A/N: Another two-parter. This chapter will set of the plot of the mini-arc, and the next chapter will have more details about what all goes on in the Saiou family. I hope people don't mind these two-parters...I'll find a way to switch POV's in the next chapter if that's what you all want.

Disclaimer: I don't own either GX or the random stretches of desert that are in this chapter.

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It was the middle of the night, and Mrs. Manjoume couldn't sleep. She was wondering just where she had gone wrong in her dealings with her kids, particularly Chosaku.

She had been sure that she was finally getting through to her oldest kid. Sure, that might not have been evident to most people, but Mrs. Manjoume had thought that maybe her maternal instincts had noticed a change.

Obviously, she had been deluding herself this whole time. Chosaku had just deserted the family after Mr. and Mrs. Manjoume had worked hard to find an activity the whole family could enjoy. Mrs. Manjoume found this to be disappointing at best, and heartbreaking at worst.

Mr. Manjoume had reassured her that it was simply a case of teenage rebellion on Chosaku's part. Nevertheless, deep down, Mrs. Manjoume was still blaming herself. A good parent would have foreseen that an event like this might happen. Mrs. Manjoume had always thought she was a good parent before. Now, she wasn't so sure.

She just hoped that Jun could forgive her for any wrong she had done him. He had been unusually cranky at times during this vacation. Now Mrs. Manjoume wondered if that was because she had been too strict with him. She would have to try harder to keep him happy by any means possible.

As for Chosaku...that might be a lot more difficult. Mrs. Manjoume would have to keep a closer eye on him.

Just to be on the safe side, she looked over to the bed on the opposite side of the hotel room, where Chosaku and Shoji slept (Jun was in a collapsible travel crib). It didn't look like Chosaku was doing anything other than sleeping, though Mrs. Manjoume did notice that he had scooted over as far away from Mr. and Mrs. Manjoume's bed as possible.

With that reassurance, Mrs. Manjoume tried once again to fall asleep. She must have dozed off at some point, because it was 5 AM when she next looked at the clock. Already, she and her husband had to get out of bed and start getting the kids ready for another day of traveling.

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Since Las Vegas was so close to the Arizona state line, Mr. And Mrs. Manjoume had decided that the Grand Canyon would be the next stop on their itinerary.

If they took the main road, they'd only have to drive 250 kilometers or so-they could make it to the Grand Canyon National Park a bit after lunchtime. However, there was also a high possibility of traffic in that route. Mrs. Manjoume really didn't want to get in another fight with Chosaku, so she had convinced Mr. Manjoume to take an alternate series of roads. This route would loop around farther south.

Mr. Manjoume wasn't too excited at the prospect of driving through a desert in July, but Mrs. Manjoume had heard so much about deserts from American cartoons. She was dying to see what the real thing looked like.

And now, she could safely say that it didn't look like much at all. There was the occasional intriguing cactus or rock formation, but mostly it was an expanse of sand and stunted plants.

Oh well. At least this was nothing like the road going into Vegas. It was so quiet and remote. There were hardly any other cars to get in their way.

Unfortuntely, the family would soon find that this isolation had a flip side.

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They were in what could safely be called "the middle of nowhere" when the van's engine started making weird noises.

Mr. and Mrs. Manjoume just ignored it at first. After all, it was a brand-new van. They might not have known too much about cars, but they could surmise that new cars didn't have a big tendency to have problems.

So they just turned on the air conditioning up a bit to disguise the noise. For an hour or so, that fixed the problem.

They were about 100 kilometers away from the Grand Canyon when they decided to take a lunch break. It was almost noon, and the kids were getting restless.

Lunch went well enough. There were no food fights, spilled drinks, or other such complications. Jun did get upset when he realized that the dill pickles on his sandwich had been put on horizontally instead of vertically. But Mrs. Manjoume fixed the problem immediately, and a potential crisis was averted.

After everyone was done, Mrs. Manjoume packed up the cooler in the trunk while Mr. Manjoume went into the driver's seat to start the van back up.

However, by the time Mrs. Manjoume had closed the trunk door, there was no evidence that the engine was running. She angrily walked over to Mr. Manjoume.

"I thought I told you to start the car back up! Why aren't you doing that?" she exclaimed at him.

Mr. Manjoume threw his arms up to denote helplessness and replied defensively, "Well, it won't start!"

Men could be so clumsy sometimes, thought Mrs. Manjoume. They thought they knew everything about machinery, but more often than not their wives had to fix stuff for them.

So she asked Mr. Manjoume if he had checked the engine. She was not surprised in the least when he shook his head.

"Well, go check it then!" snapped Mrs. Manjoume. It was over forty degrees Celsius in this desert, and Mrs. Manjoume wanted nothing more than to get back on the road in the air-conditioned haven that was the van.

Mr. Manjoume obediently got out of the car and lifted the engine hood. He instantly recoiled as a cloud of acrid smoke issued from the car's innards.

"It looks like it overheated! We're in the desert in the middle of summer-we should have probably known something like this would happen!" he called over.

Now Mrs. Manjoume REALLY got mad. She took this last remark as an insult at her road-choosing abilities.

"Well, can you FIX it?" she yelled back.

All Mr. Manjoume said was, "I'm not sure. You stay with the kids until I figure out what needs to be done."

Mrs. Manjoume agreed, if only because it would mean they would stop bickering.

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It was nearly two hours later. Mrs. Manjoume hadn't thought the temperature could get any higher, but it evidently had.

In an attempt to distract the kids, Mrs. Manjoume had been playing endless rounds of games such as Go Fish and Hangman. Chosaku had only participated for about five minutes before declaring the activities to be "stupid". He was now aimlessly kicking around random clusters of tumbleweed.

Shoji and Jun were more easily entertained, but were starting to grow listless from the extreme heat. Mrs. Manjoume was making all the kids drink as much water as they could to keep hydrated, but couldn't really do anything about the heat.

Jun repeatedly tried to take off his clothes. At first, Mrs. Manjoume hadn't allowed it, because she was worried about sunburn. Even SHE could tell that Jun's skin was the kind that could get nasty burns easily. However, Jun had started another tantrum, so now Mrs. Manjoume had let him strip down to his T-shirt and diaper.

And then, to make matters even worse, Mr. Manjoume came back with his car engine report.

"It looks like we'll have to visit a repair shop. So there are two choices: we wait for another car to drive by, or we go get help."

Even Jun knew that the road was too isolated for the first option to be very plausible.

"No car!" he said proudly while pointing off to an indeterminate point in the distance.

Mrs. Manjoume was too distracted to even praise Jun for what he obviously believed was an astute observation.

They eventually decided that Mrs. Manjoume would be the one to try to find help. Mr. Manjoume had wanted to be the one to do so, but Mrs. Manjoume felt more than a bit of responsibility for their predicament, so she wanted to try her best to fix it herself.

So off Mrs. Manjoume went. Mr. Manjoume stayed behind to watch over the kids and make a last-ditch (and futile) attempt to fix the engine.

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For once, luck seemed to be on Mrs. Manjoume's side. She had only been walking for twenty minutes or so before she saw a car in the distance. She hoped beyond hope that she could get help from the occupants. If she walked any farther, she'd probably get heatstroke.

She waved frantically at it, and the driver somehow noticed her and drove her way.

It was only when the car had almost reached her that she noticed that it was a white limo. More specifically, it was a VERY FAMILIAR-LOOKING white limo.

Well...her husband wouldn't be too happy about this...but it was their last chance, really.

The limo pulled up next to Mrs. Manjoume. This time, it was the wife who was in the driver's seat. The reason for this became apparent as soon as the window was rolled down.

"Are you SURE she's not an alien?" a familiar loud voice said from the passenger's seat, "The aliens are going to invade at 3:38!"

One of the kids in the back seat reminded Ichiro that it was 3:51, so maybe the aliens wouldn't arrive after all.

"No, they're just late!" insisted Ichiro. No one saw fit to argue with him further.

Mrs. Manjoume cleared her throat and said, "Excuse me, but could you please call a tow truck for our van? The engine overheated, and we need to get it to a repair store."

As if Ichiro had not been accusing Mrs. Manjoume of being an alien seconds before, he genially said, "Of course we'll help you out! We'll even pay for the repairs, since we're just nice like that. Right, Takuma?"

An obedient yet slightly exasperated "Yes, Father," came from the backseat.

Fortunately for the kid, Ichiro didn't hear the note of annoyance. He told Mrs. Manjoume that she could sit in the back seat as well while they drove over to the Manjoumes' van.

"There's plenty of room back there, so don't worry!" he reassured Mrs. Manjoume as she was looking for a place to sit, "You can sit between Takuma and...um...the girl, whatever her name is..."

"Mizuchi," prompted his wife.

Ichiro glared at the young woman and shouted, "I KNEW that, you fool! Don't correct me ever again! Now I just figured out that the aliens changed their invasion time to 3:59, so we have to hurry if we want to outrun them. Here, just to be safe, everyone wear these!"

He passed out tinfoil hats to everyone in the car, including the servant and Mrs. Manjoume.

'Well, this drive should be interesting,' thought Mrs. Manjoume as she dutifully put the foil hat on and fastened her seatbelt. What KIND of interesting remained to be seen.