Disclaimer: I disclaim. There.
Author's Note: I'm inspired, so before I run out of creative brainpower and get back to talking about genomes and GMOs, here's the update. :D
PrussianBlue Cross: Thank you for the review! Rukawa and Ella...well. They might. :D
Chapter 6
"And how blue were his eyes again?"
Ella grit her teeth to keep from screaming. She had called Erica up so that she could attain a false sense of security, not so they could fantasize about the guy she'd just coshed on the head. She was alone in her room and it was well past nine o'clock. The whole house was quiet—Mr. and Mrs. Kano had gone to the hospital with Mr. and Mrs. Sendoh. Ella had faced both couples three hours before and while everyone had been horrified beyond words, she had overheard a shaking Mrs. Sendoh cry, "I will never..." before Mrs. Kano had sent her inside.
Never forget this? Never forgive her?
Wearily she lay back on the futon she had dragged into the room. Akira Sendoh—the poor guy she'd mauled—was supposed to bring in it last, when all her stuff was put away and everything else set up in the proper places. If he was very lucky, he'd be able to lug things around again in two weeks or so without experiencing a very sharp pain in his head. If she was very lucky, he wouldn't press charges.
"Blue," she said dully, wondering how many times Erica would press her for a head-to-toe description once she got home.
"Oh, come on, there has to be more than that!" Erica exclaimed exasperatedly. "Honestly, Ella, you suck sometimes. Can't you give me something like, 'Oh, blue like the mouse pad in your Dad's office'."
Ella snorted. "Right. I'll write that down. 'Blue like'—oh—hang on."
She pressed a hand over the receiver to drown out Erica's laughter and lifted her head. The noisy, probably belching engine was Mr. Kano's worn-out old Toyota. The smooth purr of the engine that died moments after Mr. Kano's could only be the neighbors' classic Cefiro.
"I'll call you before my flight," she said glumly, steeling herself. "The lions are here."
"Okay, but make sure to get a picture of the guy, okay? Send it to me, if you can!"
"Right. Sure. With or without his lump?"
When Erica actually seemed to ponder the question she hung up, pulling herself to her feet just as the screen door slid open and her foster parents stepped into the room.
"Have you been up all this time?" Mrs. Kano asked worriedly, though Ella didn't see it through her nerves.
"Yes," she said nervously, feeling sweat beading in her palms and she rigidly refused to wipe them on her pants.
"Why didn't you eat dinner?" Mr. Kano asked, looking at her curiously. "Misane was planning to cook it for you, of course, but with what happened to poor Akira—"
"I'm sorry," she burst out, unable to keep her hands still except by holding them together tight behind her back. She stared down at her pedicure. "I'm really sorry. If you want to send me home I'll understand."
"Now, now, don't upset yourself," Mrs. Kano said soothingly, casting a look at the futon that had been haphazardly dumped in the center of the room. Making a mental note to make Sendoh-san come over and fix that tomorrow—Akira needed rest, of course—she took the girl's arm. "We can't send you back now, and we wouldn't even if we could. It's not your fault. I should have let you know that I was going to let Akira do your unpacking for you."
Ella couldn't quite suppress her horror. "But he's a boy," she breathed, mentally slapping herself on the forehead for how dumb she sounded.
"Yes, he is, isn't he?" Mrs. Kano murmured, as though realizing it for the first time. "I suppose I should have just let him move the furniture, but I knew you'd be exhausted from school. How was your first day, by the way?"
"Wonderful," Ella said automatically, realizing just a bit later that she meant it. She had left the house a newbie in Japanese society and had arrived back with her tally listing one new friend. Her happiness lasted only a moment though—recalling her actions when she got home, she was certain she was also officially a disaster in society now.
"Did you make any new friends?" Mr. Kano inquired, leading the two ladies from the room and making his way to the kitchen.
"One," she said, feeling a weak spurt of happiness at the thought that she was going to see Ayako again after all.
"Good, good," he said absently, already digging in the refrigerator. "Misane, are you still up to making us that dinner, or do I order take-out?"
Fifteen minutes later Ella was cleaning fish with Mrs. Kano while Mr. Kano sat reading a worn copy of Time. When the couple did not immediately tell her about what had happened at the hospital, she felt a beat of tension make its way back into her chest.
"Akira-kun...he's all right, isn't he?" she asked hesitantly, watching Mrs. Kano's profile intently.
"His skull was nearly cracked, the poor boy," Mrs. Kano said with a sigh.
A spasm jolted her into making a gash into her left thumb and she hissed, the knife and fish clattering and splattering the counter. Mrs. Kano clucked her tongue disapprovingly and put her work down, dragging Ella towards the sink.
"Always look at what you're doing, dear," she scolded, running the tap water over Ella's bleeding thumb.
"What's going to happen to him?" she asked, much to worried to care if Mrs. Kano decided she'd pour vinegar over the wound.
"Nothing," Mrs. Kano said impatiently, peering her weak eyes at the wound with ferocity. "It doesn't look deep..."
"He's all right then?"
"Yes, yes, now keep still." She pressed the skin around the wound down firmly until no more blood oozed out. "Akira-kun will be all right. He'll have a nasty bruise and a bad headache for a few more days, but he'll be fine."
"He ah...he...er...did he say anything about me?"
Mrs. Kano smiled at her knowingly, delight dancing in her dark eyes. "He's very handsome, isn't he?"
Ella blinked and then burst out laughing at the old lady's misinterpretation.
"Yes, but that wasn't what I meant!" Her smile faded and she continued soberly. "He's not—he's not pressing charges, is he?"
"Akira-kun?" Mrs. Kano looked genuinely shocked. "Of course not! Goodness! If he pressed charges for every time he got hurt when he was in this house, why—I used to whip him all the time because he was very naughty and he's never complained!"
"But never with a frying pan, dear," Mr. Kano said dampeningly.
"And a broom isn't as bad?" Shooting him an irritated glance, Mrs. Kano went on to reassure her fervently, understanding her distress. "He's a very nice boy, Ella. He understands why you hit him."
She felt much better, but there was more. "What about his parents?"
"What about them?" Mrs. Kano replied, closing the tap and guiding Ella back out into the hall, where one of the cabinets held a first-aid kit.
"They're not any angrier with me, are they?" She felt a sour taste in her mouth as she added, "Or with you?"
"What makes you think that they would be?" The old lady peeled the strips off the band-aid and wrapped it neatly around Ella's thumb, securing the wound.
"Well, before you all left...she—Mrs. Sendoh—was saying something about never doing something again."
"Oh, that." Mrs. Kano actually cackled. "She said she would never let Akira stay home again unless he was sick or dying. And she would never let him come over to do something if I left him alone in the house." She gave Ella a comforting pat. "It was my fault, dear, but when you are winning a game of dice for the first time in three weeks..."
Ella felt so good and light-hearted she forgot to feel shocked at the fact that the crotchety old lady played dice.