Chapter 2

"How would you like to nanny his kids?"

Hino gaped at her professor in unconcealed shock. Tsukimori? Tsukimori's kids? Nanny? Nanny Tsukimori's kids?

The professor, oblivious to this, went on. "Not nanny, per se, since the kids ARE already old enough to get on without one. Just someone to watch over them, make sure they're fed, bathed, do their homework, all that. Tsukimori Len is hardly ever around, so, you know…"

He looked uneasily at his pupil. Hino was still staring at him, as though she had gone catatonic with shock. He wagged his pen between her eyes, trying to get her to snap out of it. "The pay's not bad, you know, and his kids couldn't possibly be that bad…"

She blinked out of her trance and looked at him, surprised. "No! I wasn't—I mean—it's not that I don't want to, I just don't know if Tsukimori-kun would approve of me taking care of his kids. I like kids, but considering…" she trailed away.

"What?"

"Well, I can't say that I've been the most responsible girl he's known…"

Hino recalled all the times she'd earned his scornful, reprimanding gaze because of what she'd done. Always being late, throwing water on him…blistering her feet… After all those years, she still blushed when she recalled that night when he put bandages on the backs of her feet after that concert… It was true that, back then, she might have had a…teeny weeny crush on the blue-haired boy, but it had been, what, seven, eight years since she'd seen him. Surely those feelings were gone.

"Oh, I'm sure Tsukimori will approve of having someone he knows take care of his kids. Besides, you're a teacher. You know what you're doing. I'll call Kanazawa now, tell him you'll take the job."

"We-elll…." Hino twiddled her thumbs uneasily. She still wasn't sure about this. Tsukimori's kids…

"You can go now, Hino-san. I'll talk to you tomorrow. It's getting late."

She sighed. That was that, then. "Alright. Arigato, sensei. Goodbye."

Hino walked back out the halls, thinking about everything that had happened that day. She smiled to herself. I wonder what his kids are like…

Tsukimori and Tsuchiura settled back into their plush leather seats on the airplane. It had been quite a while since their high school days, but the two musical geniuses were still quite handsome. Tsuchiura's hair had grown out of its short, cropped style, and he now wore it in a small ponytail. He was still quite buff, since he'd still made it a point to play soccer at least twice a week, even with his busy rehearsal schedules. Tsukimori, on the other hand, had grown thinner since his days at Seiso. His blue hair was still a brilliant shade of cerulean, still soft, still perfectly groomed, but his face had become more angular. If he'd looked mature in high school, this Tsukimori had the air of a diplomat. Refined, cultured, and with a permanent scowl on his face.

"Aah, feels good to be going home, right, Tsukimori?" Tsuchiura turned to over at his companion, who had been reading The New York Times. They were, of course, in the first class section of the airplane, and, as celebrities, had been allowed to board earlier to avoid making the commotion that would surely ensue once everyone else on the plane got word that the Tsukimori Len and the Tsuchiura Ryotaro were on the plane as well.

"Mmm," was the violinist's only reply. Suddenly, they heard an increasingly loud squabble in front of them.

"No—"

"Come onn—"

"No!"

"Give it to me—"

"But I was first!"

Tsukimori quietly folded his paper and cleared his throat.

"Ahem."

The noise in front of them immediately subsided. Tsukimori unbuckled his seatbelt, got out of the chair, and walked towards the front, where the noise had come from. He eyed the two noisemakers, a young girl with blonde hair and blue eyes and a smaller boy with blue hair and sea green eyes. They grew stiffer as his stern eyes passed over them, backs straight as wooden planks, hands tightly folded at their laps. A few feet away, Tsuchiura turned his head from the window of the plane and sighed to himself as he watched them.

"Kaoru. Sei."

"Yes, father," the two children said automatically, their trembling voices betraying their frozen, militaristic form.

Tsukimori's eyes fell on the object they had been arguing over, a small, bright yellow plane made of plastic that had been given to them, presumably by a stewardess. He picked it up from the floor between them and placed it in the jacket pocket of his suit, deciding to ignore the crestfallen looks of his children.

"I should like to remind you two that, in the future, you are to refrain from making any commotion concerning trifle objects, whether in public or in private, am I clear?"

"Yes, father."

"Good," he said, walking back to his seat, pretending to ignore the look Tsuchiura gave him.

"You didn't have to be that harsh, you know," Tsuchiura said softly.

"I don't know what you're talking about." The violinist picked up his paper and resumed poring over the business section.

"They're just kids. You can't expect them to act like adults, even if you probably DID use to act that way."

"They are my children; I should be given the right to raise them in the manner I wish."

His cold tone signaled the end of their conversation, and Tsuchiura sighed as he turned back to look at the glimmering white and orange lights around the runway. You're not the only one who lost Michiko, Tsukimori. Kaoru and Sei needed her too. Tsuchiura turned back to face the front of the plane, and decided to give his dessert to the kids after their meal.