Chapter One – Datezilla 2001 (Originally Dateira Millennium)
AUGUST 11TH, 1945
Awa Urashima cried out.
"Kameha—meha!"
His friend nodded.
"Excellent, Urashima. Yes, that was the name of the Hawaiian King, prior to the coming of the Americans. You know your history."
Masi Fudo looked out at the horizon.
"History we will soon join. I am pleased for this opportunity to serve my liege, but I wish it were not so impersonal. I would like to see the faces of the Americans I dispatch."
Urashima's prior playful tone vanished.
"In the afterlife, you will see them all as they bow down before you in acknowledgement of your victory. That is, provided you can discern one of their ugly faces from another."
The slightly younger man seemed offended.
"Is it necessary to denigrate them? Is it necessary to actually hate your enemy, in order to do what we must? When my time comes, I will ride the Breath Of God into their ships, and they will attempt to thwart me before I can do this. I need only survive long enough to let gravity guide my passage into His Presence. If a stick jammed into the throttle would do as well, even I would not be necessary. But I am, and I accept my role as well as the enemy's role in trying to keep me back. I will not hate them for trying to keep their ships well, and their friends alive."
Urashima stepped uncomfortably close to Fudo.
"Then hate them for their bombing runs, that have made a ruin of our beautiful lands."
"I hate the bombs, and I hold contempt for any American who showed thoughtless glee at such a thing. Yet how many of our bombs have I cheered? This war is a brutal thing. They have been brutal thugs, as have we. I will ask for the Breath Of God to guide me, but I am not at all certain Kami will lend this to me."
"How can you say such a thing?"
Fudo thought of his cousin Akira, a pacifist who had been executed some time back.
"If Kami favored us, then how is it the Americans draw so close? If Kami favored us, then why do we not have a weapon capable of wiping away an entire city in one stroke?"
Before Urashima could react, a voice less coherent than either of theirs intruded.
"Don't either of you get it? It's over. It's over if we go up and over and down in those planes, and if we don't? It's still over. Heh! Better learn English—and our young women better learn the exchange rate!"
Daisaku Kusama was laughing heartily at his own joke. Fudo was nervous, and Urashima was not laughing at all.
"I will you give you one brief chance to withdraw those hateful sick words, Kusama!"
Kusama, who had apparently found some sake prior to that he was to be given before his first and last flight, shrugged.
"I will soon die because this is my Emperor's wish—or is it Tojo's? Anyway, I will die, and some Americans who are probably just as hungry for some shapely female companionship will die with me. Maybe we'll all haunt women's onsens together-maybe some of those American cheer girls' showers. Just so long as it's not the English, with their warm beer. Even in Hell, they must serve it cold. Anyway, let's make it clear. I'm dying to kill those Americans. I am not dying to stop them, because they are coming anyway. This whole thing, this invoking of the Kamikaze? A Noh play, staged so a group of old men, failed conquerors all, can feel like they're doing something. But this time, God's Breath is blowing in the opposite direction. And it's blowing back every last thing we've done right on us. Maybe someday, someone they weren't expecting will kick the Americans' asses. But today, it's us. So men of Japan, learn to drop your weapons and raise your arms, and women, learn to raise your skirts and drop your drawers, because the Yanks are coming, the Yanks Are Coming…"
Urashima fell upon Kusama in a blind fury. Brought before his superiors, he was still enraged.
"He is to be permitted to fly?"
"The prisoner will remain silent!"
The higher-ranking officer shushed the guard.
"Urashima, a wastrel fool like Kusama serves a purpose. These men are about to die. Of course they have doubts. That cannot be avoided, especially in ones so young and untested. So let Kusama say the things that are on all their minds. Once out in the open, these fears and doubts can be confronted and left behind. Kept inside, they may cause hesitation when fortitude is called for."
Urashima bristled, but did not contradict his superior.
"Am I still permitted to fly after my transgression?"
"Yes. For you are Kusama's opposite number. Do you see that noble flag, Awa Urashima? That it continues to be ours will be determined by the will and courage of young men such as yourself."
When Urashima had left for an enforced bow and handshake with his squad-mate, the officer went to see his superior.
"The matter has been settled. Actually fewer problems with this lot. Sir—what word is there?"
The older officer had as much of the hard stuff in him as Kusama, but knew how to handle it.
"To hear it said, either the Emperor is a prisoner of the generals, or he has just escaped them."
"Is there any chance of the sorry order being issued before-?"
Another glass was poured, and offered to the younger man.
"You have come to care for those boys. This is not unexpected. But know that, if I received that final order here and now, my last act would still have to be sending them out immediately. They have been primed to die. Some like that hothead you just tasked are even anxious for it. They would not wish to return having not taken that last flight. One man I know of who suffered engine failure begged to be placed in another plane when he was recovered. His Lieutenant said that he was either cursed or a coward and clapped him in irons. Before his next successful flight, he filled his cockpit with grenades as well. That, my dear boy, is what we have awoken in these children. It will not be put out, even if his Majesty personally tells them to stand down."
Facing the stars, Awa Urashima shook his fist at the sky.
"I will achieve my goal, which is my dream, and I will permit no one and nothing to stand in my way, even to the fates themselves!"
A good distance away, a girl dutifully emptied endless bedpans and chamber-pots filled by fighting men now helpless to do so themselves. The head nurse called to her subordinate.
"Both cities—she was in both cities when the bright flashes came, yet she shows no signs of the sickness. Why do we have to deal with her?"
"She does do her job well, and without complaint."
"Oh? Well, she is not to be permitted such arrogant serenity in the midst of all this. Assign her also the duty of cleaning the men's backsides, after they have filled the bedpans. Put her on whatever might impact that ridiculous durability of hers."
Before long, illness would take the increasingly bitter woman who once boasted that the only soldiers who would ever see her wards would be captured enemy prisoners. Until then, little Hinata's lot was to be a hard one.
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 4TH, 2001
PRIVATE JOURNAL, NARU NARUSEGAWA
There was a struggle. It was hard, it was intense, and it got very personal. When it was all done, I was the winner. But the winner was not at all gracious in victory, and the losers were not good about explaining why there had been a struggle in the first place. For you see, the winner felt like she had already struggled against her own worst nature, and that of the man she loved, to even get to a certain point. Why, she wondered, did she also have to war with her own sisters, who did their best to shut her out, then claimed they knew this wasn't possible? In the end, that winner was as contemptuous and dismissive of her sisters as she had been of her man. For she—for I had never realized that each had undergone her own struggle with this nerve-ridden thief of hearts. A fierce warrior once thought to have no use for men suddenly wanted to be used by him. An indulgent sake-loving trickster was ready to give up what she had to in order to rise up in his eyes. The other three? Well, who didn't know? Mutsumi let him fall into her chest without so much as a cheek pull. In Su's case, the only thing that shocked us was the level of disconnect between her power as princess in Molmol and the realization that we might not like being played with as she made her play for him. Be careful who you say 'all's fair' to is the lesson there. Even Auntie was a player of sorts, in that I doubt any winner who didn't treat her nephew right would survive, including me. Even the woman legally barred from seeking him wanted that goofy smile aimed in her direction, wanted that sweet grateful blush he gets each time he sees flesh that by now he's seen more times than his own.
So why did I win? I don't know. Did I deserve to win? Probably not. I only know that I did win, and I am now prepared to fight every woman—and anyone else—who tries to keep me from his side. My sisters took me by surprise in Molmol. No one else ever will. Except maybe—her.
The devotion she shows to him often shames me. She has treated him all along the way I wish I had. I know that my victory broke her heart more than any other, and she is the one I worried about the most when he first showed up. Now I almost wish he had been just lecherous enough to make a mistake with her. I would have forgiven him by now, and she would be over him. Any man who turned her down for not being pure would have been rightly judged as insane.
But Shinobu Maehara loves Keitaro Urashima, and vice-versa, and their decency and restraint means that this love is idealized and enshrined forever. Ours will have to be rough and tumble, fought out in the arena of life. Theirs gets to be this wonderful thing that could have been.
Yet it is a wonderful thing, and I think the fact that he keeps this girl as his friend is part of what makes me love him. It is for her that he kept trying for University, and it is for him that her puppy love became fierce enough to gamble her feelings on a very stupid, poorly thought plan hatched by two sisters she knew better than to listen to.
This night, she has a date with the first boy she has even looked at since her dream moved from possibility to could-have-been. He's a good kid, from what I've heard and seen, and his mother could be called an elder sister of those here at the Hinata-Sou. So it is we all wish her well, both we violent girls and the boy who passed up his own chance to be her first in order to be her ally.
Understandably, she is anxious as this date approaches tonight. That is not the problem.
The problem? In her anxiety, sweet little Shinobu is turning into a vicious little bitch.
She got off the phone, smiling.
"That's right, Arlo-San. I've decided to give tomato gravy and pasta a try for tonight. Good! See you then."
Shinobu had all her friends seated before her in the living room as she walked over. Outwardly, she appeared calm.
"I need you all to be…"
Su's hand shot up.
"Ohh! Oooh! On our best behavior?"
Shinobu was calm but not smiling as she responded.
"I was going to say I need all of you to not be yourselves."
Before any of them could respond to this utter impertinence, she kept on. She stopped at each of her 'siblings'.
"Motoko, where his hands might wander is my business. I don't need my honor defended. You may need to call in Tsuruko, though, should you cross me on this."
"Sempai Naru—I am requesting that you allow for his nerves and possible clumsiness. Unless he pretends to be a doctor and offers you a physical—do nothing. Even then—Do Nothing. I'll throw him out. Don't make me go all frying pan on you. You wouldn't like me when I'm all frying pan. "
"Kaolla Su-I can assure you he has no interest in your inventions, or in having any portion of his anatomy struck by any portion of yours. If he offends some Molmolian custom we all never heard of—or if he turns out to be your island's prophesied champion—keep it to yourself. At the first sign of a mecha-Turtle of any kind, I will regard Molmol and Japan as being at war."
"Mutsumi, anything more than a handshake, and we will find out if they really do bounce."
"Mitsu—just don't—whatever it is, just don't."
Her gaze then turned to the man she loved.
"Sempai-is there any pressing reason for Arlo-San to know that we've been in many an embarrassing situation together? No? Then don't bring it up. Remember that game of 'beach ball' we once played? I can play a lot harder."
She resumed smiling before retreating to her kitchen and adding one last thing.
"I'm going to cook tonight's meal. Remember who cooks nearly all the meals around here. Meals that can suddenly gain—extra ingredients."
JOURNAL
I kind of wish she had just whacked us all with the frying pan. It would have hurt less. How dare she threaten any of us, especially Keitaro? I'll take the verbal thrashing I have coming for my treatment of him, but if that little girl ever goes there again, I'm asserting property rights. Maybe I'll even make her aware that a lady can feel something down there, if you apply enough force. It'll never be what a guy would feel, but it can still be special.
But we all do love her, and the one who loved her best of all sprang to her defense after she left.
"I know that she's having-"
"A psychotic break with reality?"
"Mitsu! Shinobu is trying-"
"Is she ever."
"Narusegawa! Shinobu is asking for-"
"And she will get it. If you will not make her a woman, Urashima, perhaps my blade..."
"Motoko! Ladies, what she needs-"
"You can provide her, Kei. We'll hold her down and deny everything to her parents. We'll tell everyone she's smiling because of passing gas."
"Mutsumi—everyone—she's just nervous because she wants this date to go well."
Su shook her head.
"She's being a tyrant, and you taught me that was wrong. Well, is it?"
JOURNAL
He's no longer scared of the super-strong woman. He's no longer in danger of an embolism around the super-boobied woman. He has the trickster jumping hoops to get his approval, and the warrior who once threatened his manhood now plays a daily game with him whose goal is to get her robes off—and I'm not even sure she uses a body wrap anymore.
But it's the two little girls that own him. The one, he can't help but defend, even when she's nearly indefensible. The other he desperately wants to be an example to. The princess wants to be his little sister, and his little sister wants to be his princess. Thing is, I called him Onii-Chan before I called him Kei-Kun, in that old sandbox, and I am set to be his queen. But—I can't deny them the kind of confidence-building, stabilizing influence Seta was on me—well, he built my confidence, anyway. Stability and Noriyasu Seta should probably not be mentioned in the same sentence—good luck on getting him into that house, Auntie.
Anyway, he told Su to be patient a little longer, and then headed for classes. He and I have two alternating days, two concurrent days this time around, chock-full of classes so we can leave the weekends free for upgrade work on the Sou.
That leaves me to keep a lid on the boiling pot that is Shinobu.
Naru entered the kitchen and was immediately placed under assault.
"Taste this one."
"Now this one."
"Now that one."
"Now-"
"Shinobu, let me breathe something other than tomato sauce!"
"Tomato Gravy. No real gourmand of Italian cooking ever calls it sauce."
"Ummm—no offense, but this isn't terribly Japanese."
The girl glared at her sempai.
"I know Japanese dishes like the back of my hand, except for blowfish, which I'm not trained for. There's no challenge there anymore. Those grand dishes will always be my first love, but it was time I moved on."
There was so very much psychology in that statement, Naru felt compelled to sidestep it entirely.
"You know, I tickled him relentlessly, until he gave in and rated the ladies of the Sou for various aspects of their bodies and beauty. I have his heart and soul, so I told him to be honest. He gave Motoko best overall body because of how limber she keeps, Su had cutest face, Mutsumi duh, Mitsu got smile, and you-"
Shinobu began to shake.
"Yes?"
"Best butt. Period."
"Really? I mean-wow."
Naru put a finger under her chin.
"Now, if you should ever—EVER—again make a speech like the one you just did? I will bronze and mount that butt on my bedroom wall, so he can always remember it. Maybe in our old age, he can use it as a turn-on."
Shinobu pulled away.
"I suppose you are the only one who's allowed to be upset by thwarted plans and goals thrown off course."
"Noooo you don't, Maehara-San. My behavior, Su's behavior, Mitsu's, whoever—does not justify tearing the guts out of people who haven't even sat down to the dinner you're warning them not to wreck. Your plans and goals haven't even launched yet."
Shinobu stirred the gravy, then folded her arms.
"This is the Hinata-Sou. We could be invaded by someone's secret family member. We could be attacked by Seta-Sama's college archeology rival. All the pettankos whose busts Mutsumi absorbed to achieve her dirigible status could come seeking redress. Or Kenny Sakata. Or Auntie drops off Sarah, who then spends my perfect evening hitting my date with the Rosetta Stone or the Ten Commandments. Or maybe Amalla Su decides to steal Kei away this time. Maybe Mitsu's real mother is a real Kitsune, and the shock of the revelation drives her inside herself."
"What kind of crap have you been reading?"
"Sempai Naru—ask yourself. How many pointless interruptions, planned and otherwise, have you and Sempai Kei had to endure over the past three years?"
"Does that include kawaii-ambush skillet-strikes from behind?"
"You know damn well what I mean."
Naru withdrew from the pointless argument after giving her answer.
"As many as we had to—and then however many more past that. Those interruptions are called daily life, Shinobu."
JOURNAL
How does he always know just how to handle her? Simple answer—those two are cut from the same cloth. Timid as all get out, until they reach their full height. I may not have to worry about them climbing into bed together, after all. Don't like charges repel, when up close?
I pulled out of that Twilight Zone and decided to check on the relatively saner sisters.
I think her ponytail may be pulled too tight.
Up on the rooftop, Naru found herself assaulted by music. The bikinied Motoko did her rolls, jumps and stretches to it.
"Aren't you afraid of being seen in that skimpy thing?"
Motoko answered, while never interrupting her routine.
"The only one I care about who might see me like this has seen me in less than this, and his blush makes me feel-sexy, for want of a better term. In any event, he is not here."
"Ummm-I tried talking to her."
"You have my pity, then."
"Look, we all-almost all—spent the last three years beating on a guy out of some misplaced feelings we were in denial about. Maybe our room to dump on Shinobu's snit isn't as great as we'd like."
Motoko sliced at the air with her arms.
"The difference is, we didn't mean it. She on the other hand, meant every word. Naru, I wish to discuss neither Shinobu nor your man, for right now. You may listen to the music as I go, but I need to do this. My tension level is too great. Since I cannot kill one friend nor jump the bones of another, I need this. Alright?"
Naru nodded, and listened to the music Motoko had taken from Su's Western karaoke selections.
*…so have you got yourself a brand new baby? Don't tell me maybe-is it so—I got to know—what's it gonna be-Her Or Me?...*
*…I've got your picture, She's Got You…*
*…you don't have to say you love me, just be close at hand, you don't have to stay forever, I will understand…*
*…not to be the crying kind; not to be the girl you left behind; You gotta go where you wanna go and do what you wanna do…*
*…walk right back to me this minute, bring your love to me don't send it—I'm so lonesome every day…*
When Motoko was done, she asked Naru a question.
"Does my choice of music selections seem like ones that might inspire?"
Naru raised an eyebrow.
"They may inspire me to put a restraining order on you."
JOURNAL
To be fair, Motoko admitted her feelings in public and is not ashamed of them any longer. I suppose that's a form of balance. On the other hand, while newly focused, Mitsu seems like someone badly out of balance.
"We might need to tell some of our more conservative guests that you two are already married. And bathing suits in the onsen for those months. We might also need to gently inform any family members that those months won't be a good time. And we should rubberize the corners of that old sandbox. People are just so litigious today."
Mitsu was being so deadly serious, Naru felt she had no choice but to seize an opening.
"We never used rubber as kids. Of course, Keitaro promised to marry both of us if anything should happen. Liddo-Kun was to perform the ceremony."
A light glare emerged from the new Ryobo's eyes. Naru challenged it with more foolishness.
"So you don't think he would have married us?"
Mitsu slapped down her pad of paper, chock full of random improvement notes.
"This is about making this Inn a going concern again. Forget Kei. We are all of us unlucky, and you know damn well everything we overlook will explode in our faces."
"Sounds like fun. In fact, it is. Just last night, Kei and I-"
"I was thinking of a continental breakfast. Some hard boiled eggs, some toast and jam, some coffee and tea. Won't cost us much, and it'll make the guests feel like they're really getting something."
Naru stared dumbly ahead of her. Mitsu shrugged.
"Any reasonable suggestions that don't involve adverting your sex life?"
Naru sighed.
"Have we asked ourselves where these customers are likely to come from? Are they Tokyo residents looking for a weekend hideaway? Are they rural folk looking for a halfway house while touring the big cities? Tokyo U rich brats? Americans, Chinese? That could potentially tell us a lot."
As Mitsu gained a panicked look at hearing Naru's question, she began to jot ever more notes at kilometers per minute. Naru gave up when she realized neither hard liquor nor Keitaro's lap had ever held Mitsu's attention like this new notion did.
JOURNAL
Okay. It is possible that, faced with the wrath of all her friends and the prospect of indebted homelessness, Mitsune realized that she couldn't be Kitsune and just decided to go super-serious until she's all caught up and trained at the job. But I'm not buying it. Even as a pretense, Kitsune could never keep this up 120%. Something out there scared the trickster right out of her. She won't tell me what that was, or even confirm that there was something. Her old best friend needs to talk to one of her new best friends.
As Naru scrubbed her back, Mutsumi was not giving up very much.
"She's not sick. No one is threatening her. No one hurt her. She isn't pregnant, and she doesn't have any more debts than the ones we know of. All she's done to me is pepper me with questions about calculating cooling costs during the worst of the summer days and nights. Naru, if there is something to talk about, she will tell you when she's ready."
Naru turned and got the same attention back again.
"She's not herself. No one has to remind her of her duties anymore. She's made no snarky remarks for over a week. She hit the futons with Kei, and never once tried anything. She's lived off what's in the fridge and some instant ramen. Running this place has become the whole of her existence."
Mutsumi shrugged, her hair for once bouncing more than her chest.
"You mean, exactly like Kei said it would?"
Naru got up and wrapped herself with a towel.
"If you knew something, would you tell me?"
"If I knew something, I would tell you to not worry so much. Are you really that anxious to see Kitsune again?"
Naru smiled.
"Maybe. But I'm more anxious for Mitsu to be herself, and right now it's like she's trying to be someone else."
Mutsumi not only chose not to dispute this, but changed the subject entirely.
"Naru? About tonight's dinner?"
"Yes?"
Mutsumi poked a finger in her oldest friend's chest.
"Tell Kei to rein that brat in. If she starts in again like she did this morning, I won't be the only one letting her have it. She was way out of line. My grandmother would have smothered her face in her chest for speaking like that."
"She would? Did that make her grandkids behave?"
Mutsumi shook her head.
"Well, it worked for her granddaughters. The grandsons seemed to act up worse."
JOURNAL
Shinobu is not winning any popularity contests with her new book about how to gut friends and defenestrate people. I've been where she is. A large part of the ultra-rotten (as opposed to just plain rotten) treatment I gave Kei early on came in part from feeling like he had messed with my master plans. But she's on such a short fuse, I actually welcomed inspecting Su's newest invention.
Then I learned what it was. Implications much, anyone? Kei told me, but I had to see it for myself.
Naru stared at the large orb-like device.
"A time machine. You built a time machine."
**Dinosaurs walking like Humans. The Roman province of Nihanus with Tokyopolis as its capitol. Headlines like 'Yamamoto Beats Truman For US Presidency'. Films like 'Terminator 2' starring Jet Li and Eve Plumb. A world where Keitaro was a young wizard who—**
*Cut the crap, Narusegawa. Just talk to Su.*
"Su? Have you actually traveled through time yet?"
"Oh, no. That'd be too dangerous."
Naru prepared to breathe a sigh of relief. It seemed Su was learning of certain things, like not doing something just because you can.
"I mean, air pressure in a past time period could be different, or you could carry a cold virus that mutated in the present but no one in the past has a defense against."
*Well, that's something like what we wanted.*
"So it can only look at the past?"
Su pointed at the viewscreen.
"I deliberately keep the portal at a microscopic level and then look through it with magnification. Here!"
Naru saw a young man enter the Sou, and then strip down and enter the Onsen. She saw the stunned look on his face as a nude young woman sat beside him, calm and serene-just not for long. Naru's mouth opened in the present, but Su made a motion urging her to be quiet.
*You two idiots. You don't know what's ahead of you. I could save you so much trouble—or cause even more. How would I convince myself? I could be so stubborn back then. Heh—not like now, right?*
Su shut it off, then began to form a frown.
"I think Onii-Chan is a little afraid of it."
"Well, Kei-Kun is a very moral person. I think he worries what less moral people might do with such a powerful device."
Naru was not merely reflexively defending her man in saying this. She had come to realize, even before the two had finally started becoming serious, that Keitaro must in fact be quite moral. One man in a houseful of girls could easily have gotten away with a lot more than just punished peeps and awkward collisions of flesh. Especially when two of those girls were young and easily swayed by him, one was not shy around him or about loving him, and one was so fearful of her emotions for him, the right gesture could have had deflowered samurai as easily as castrated ronin. Naru wasn't sure where she fit in there, but with so many awkward moments between them, she wasn't sure what she would have done had he just once kept on going. Ironically, probably only intercourse-skittish Mitsune would have been a definite no.
*We could have ended up as one Kei's stupid ecchi manga, the ones where the one guy nails every woman he knows, relation or age notwithstanding. Then again, the thought of Shinobu crying out 'Sempai always falls asleep right after!' probably kept him back as much as any morals.*
"Su? Can you scan any moment in history you like?"
"So far. Why, Onee-Chan?"
*Oh, this thing is so dangerous. But I can't resist.*
"Show me Grandma Hina-in 1945."
Su tried this, but had to shut the portal off again.
"Huh-lights and radio interference. What were those two bright flashes?"
"Ummm—what was the date, Su?"
"August of that year."
*Was Grandma present when the bombs fell? And am I standing next to something as earth-shaking as either Fat Man or Little Boy?*
A new idea struck Naru.
"Su-Chan, show me Molmol on the morning of the date we left for home. Early morning, like between 5 and 6 AM. Scan around by that hillside buffet."
"I know that one! They serve the best waffles!"
*Banana waffles, no doubt. Okay, Urahsimas. Auntie and her nephew like to tease Naru-Chan? Well, next time you start in, I'll have evidence of what you were really doing that morning.*
Su and Naru saw Haruka and Keitaro jump over a waterfall, laughing and screaming the way some might on a roller-coaster. Smiling, Naru saw Kei emerge in just his underwear and grab some clothes they had stashed aside. Haruka, however, was not wearing a damned thing, and stuck, was aided by her nephew—who for at least a moment was plainly scoping her out, and this was not unwelcomed by the older woman. Su saw this as well.
"I don't blame Onii-Chan for staring. Auntie's boobs must be nearly as big as Mutsumi's. Did she ever feed him with those? Onee-Chan?"
JOURNAL
I held off on telling her to get rid of it, instead recommending she read fictional treatments of time travel for cautionary tales. I couldn't think straight. Suddenly the silly flirtation meant to fluster me and Seta had a component to it that could not be explained away by pranking. A hungry look had passed between them. I suddenly remembered being a child and seeing my playmate summoned away by snapping fingers, and my glare met with a glare of a girl who looked like a giant. I've known all this. But like Shinobu seeing him and me in the clinch, this is raw evidence, and it's a bit harder to take. I didn't hate her. But I needed to call her.
Haruka had almost gotten used to hearing from her former charges on a daily basis. The trick, she knew, was defusing the crisis de jure.
"Naru? Hey, kid, how's tricks? I—should know? What did he tell you about that waterfall? Nothing—like what I was wearing. Naru—Naru stop. I'm not gonna apologize for one of the most tender moments of my entire life. I-of course we're just joking around. Could I ever see us-? Yeah—if we were five years into a Go Nagai apocalypse or something. Look—you have a ki warrior, a fun-loving prankster, a kawaii Near-Yamato Nadeishko, a girl whose IQ lines roughly up with her bust size squared, and an ultra-cute island princess living within a hundred meters of him at all times, and yet you worry about his preggers Christmas Cake of an Auntie?"
Haruka fought back a tear.
"I am not the most beautiful woman you know. I could not have him in a heartbeat-why do you do this to yourself? Geez, that cadre of back-stabbers did their best to beat your time, and he still fought to be with you. Kid, I'm gonna say it bluntly. He could be getting freebies from every last one of us whenever he wanted, and it would still be you. Now, if he didn't tell you and you weren't peeping, how did you find out about-she invented a what? It actually works? It's what she was working on all those times she nearly blew us up? Naru, I understand it's an astounding creation, but hasn't it hit you yet that a girl who wants your man can now change history? She said-that would be cheating. Naru, get that thing dismantled ASAP. Just hearing about it makes my skin crawl. Now, what else goes on?"
"I always pegged Shinobu for a possible Bridezilla. Let Kei take point in slapping her back to reality—you know he's the only one she'll listen to. Mitsu? No, that doesn't sound like her. Me, when I was new on the job, the amount of things I had to do curdled my brain. I sure as hell wasn't seeking out more. If need be, I have a friend she can speak to—let's hope it doesn't come to that. As for Motoko, face it—your guy is her means of loosening up. Mutsumi said what? Heh. Maybe she's taking too much iron, now. No-don't apologize for calling. Whatever burdens you all put on me, I'll repay come summer when we dump Sarah in your laps."
"I'm-right—here! Geez—doesn't Naru-Chan have a life of her own?"
Haruka heard something on the other end, and smiled.
"I'll tell her that. Toodles, kid!"
Sarah saw the wicked smile.
"Mom?"
"Naru said something about a birthmark…"
Cries of 'Traitor!' filled the area surrounding the rented home.
JOURNAL
Thank God she always keeps her head. I wish we could all be as free as Kuro and Tama-Chan. I thought Kanako's cat would fight with our turtle, or worse. But Kuro finds a perch on his shell, and off they go flying, exploring the forest. Normally, Shinobu tosses them a snack about this time of day. But today, their flight path avoids the kitchen entirely. Animals instinctively know when natural disasters are about to happen.
"But everyone does that!"
"Get Out Of My Kitchen!"
"Shinobu, all Su did was dip some bread in the tomato…"
"Get Out Of My Kitchen!"
"Shinobu, this unseemly behavior…"
"Get Out Of My Kitchen!"
Mutsumi stood at the doorway, refusing to even enter. Naru had no such hesitancy, and had cell-phone in hand. She held it near Shinobu.
"Answer it."
Naru's eyes showed no signs that this was a request. Shinobu took the phone.
"What? You don't understand! You can't do that! Don't you dare hang up on…."
Shinobu turned off three of the pots she had on the burners. As soon as the boiling water in the last one was done, she poured out the pasta within to a strainer.
"What time is it?"
Shinobu's question was calm and straightforward. As if to make a point, Mutsumi answered.
"One-Thirty."
"I see. Could someone please wake me up at 4:30? That'll give me enough time to make the garlic bread."
Naru now looked concerned.
"You're going to bed?"
Shinobu refused to meet any of their eyes.
"I've been ordered to take a nap or face having the date cancelled. Excuse me."
She left, looking badly shaken, but not speaking either. Mitsu nodded.
"Good on Bro! He nuked her down to size."
"Interesting. It seems a few words from Urashima can break an iron skillet."
Mutsumi had a definite 'be careful what you wish for' look of regret on her face.
"How much did it cost him to do that? And how many more times are we going to have to see it happen? She has four or five more teen years yet to come."
"How does Onii-Chan have the power to order her to take a nap?"
JOURNAL
I said it before. Cut from the same cloth. She would never dream of defying Kei-yet. Mutsumi is right. Between throwing in with the others at Molmol, her rampaging snit when we got back, and now this bout with 'Datezilla', Shinobu is turning into a full-on challenge. Worst of all, I know this routine. See, at times, Shinobu behaves just like her Sempai Kei at his best and worst-and other times? She behaves like her Sempai Naru—again at best and worst. Karma or no karma, I do not want to handle myself. I have got to use my power to make her move faster through my unreasoning stage than I did. Because if I can't, then I will follow through with my threat and mount her little ass on the wall.
It is a cute one, though. I wonder if he thinks about violating her—that way. Maybe I should cosplay my sisters, to get him worked up—someday. Right now, we both get worked up by looking at the linoleum.
The three hours came and went. Shinobu looked no different, but spoke more calmly.
"I have nothing to say to any of you right now. I don't mean that in a vicious way. I literally am so nervous about this date that I can't think. So please-demand apologies later, and help guide me through this. Because I am so worked up, I can't even cry."
Kaolla Su raised her hand, but the question was a well-thought-out one.
"Are there any things with the food that we should never ever do?"
"Yes. Try using a fork for the pasta instead of sticks. It's traditional."
Mitsu breathed in, trying to keep control when the target was so alluring.
"Do you want to sit next to him?"
"Probably. Let me decide when he gets here."
Mutsumi did not bother to resist a dig.
"Are you sure you're up for this? Are you really ready to deal with what actually happens, and not what you fear might happen? I will not support you if you start accusing again."
"I am ready—and I don't want your support, if I start acting like that again. The sleep helped, so I don't think I will. Please remind me of everything I said later. My mind is already blocking it all out. I should remember it all later."
Motoko also offered a dig.
"It is likely best that you don't."
Since she was presenting way too easy a target, the girls backed off as Shinobu's 'control' came home from classes. Keitaro was almost bowled over by her rushed embrace. His eyes briefly showed signs of air deprivation as they bulged out.
"Sempai, please don't cancel the date—I just got soooo nervous!"
He returned the embrace, while color commentary was offered.
"She did get nervous, Bro. The seismic people called up about a localized Earthquake."
"Indeed, Urashima. My sister called, fearing a rising of dark ki."
"I tried to bounce off her head—but her shakes repelled me!"
"People accused me of becoming a go-go dancer."
When Mutsumi's dig seemed likely to start another round, the ladies learned something of Kei's private rankings, Naru aside.
"You know, one would think that, since she's done cooking and laundry every week out of the kindness of her heart, we could all forgive her having one bad day when something really special is making her nervous. I think one bad thing can easily be put aside."
Mutsumi, still offended from earlier, added on nonetheless.
"One bad thing-except for striking you from behind when pretending to aid Naru's rescue, ditching Naru with the others to get you on Molmol, getting you hit repeatedly when her vague messages went undetected by you, rampaging over lies told in Molmol…"
In that hypothetical ranking, Mutsumi's rank would also be very high, but even she could cross a line.
"Mutsumi?"
"Yes, Kei?"
He pushed her face forward into his chest.
"Let's not talk about getting me beatings, alright?"
Shinobu breathed, looked at Mutsumi and then at all of them.
"I'm a wreck around guys, alright? I tried not to let this get to me, but the more I did, the more it got to me. Plus, you have to admit—disasters around here are not unheard of. I mean, we're all in love with the disaster that came to live with us, three years ago!"
Keitaro kind of glared at her as she went.
*Dig that hole deeper, Shinobu. That's a girl.*
"I'm so sorry that I made those vague and some not so vague threats about poisoning your food. But really, was my behavior any harder to tolerate than Sempai Naru's months of obsession over the Todai Exam, her years of sometimes-violent denial over Sempai Kei, and her months of obnoxiously rubbing her victory in our faces?"
Naru whispered to her man.
"You do realize she gets this from your side of the family?"
Kei raised a finger.
"Shinobu—Arlo will be here soon. Garlic Bread?"
She ran off for the kitchen like a shot, after which Kei looked at Mitsu and Mutsumi, nodding.
"Come up with something. Make it awkward-with at least the possibility of pain."
In a fluid motion, the two busty beauties nodded at each other.
JOURNAL
I had to wonder if Shinobu knew what she had lost, when even Keitaro had enough with her. But we would still try our damndest to give her this big moment. And then she would surely pay.
Then again, her words about the Sou and the course of events would prove prophetic.
Arlo was dressed near to formal, but not so much as to make anyone else feel awkward. Motoko complimented this. He shrugged.
"Non-Formal Dinner at a local inn whose owners you know demands some attention to detail, but not obsession."
They realized that, as the son of a restaurateur, Arlo knew quite a bit about dining etiquette. This status also meant he knew something else, as a thermal-insulated case he produced demonstrated.
"I made beef sauce. Hope that doesn't leave anyone out."
When Shinobu learned of this development, you could have heard a pin drop.
Motoko. *Impale Me. Impale me now.*
Mitsu. *Take me down to a B Plus. Just let this pass—okay a low C. But let it pass anyway.*
Mutsumi. *You know, we did make our new Todai oath a respectful one.*
Su. *I think I saw a cartoon like this once. The fat caveman found out the short one had eaten a pizza pie meant for all of them. That was funny.*
Kei. *Naru, forgive me. I may have to offer to marry her. Then, when she's distracted, you knock her out.*
Naru. *Somebody brought food to a Shinobu dinner. Su, hook up the time machine.*
But Shinobu was confident and even smiling.
"Well, we'll just have to see whose is better. It'll be like a little contest!"
A half an hour later, Shinobu's tomato sauce was mostly untouched, and Arlo's mostly gone. Mitsu tried to be supportive to a crestfallen Shinobu.
"Well, kid—he has spent most of his life working in restaurants. Arlo? What, did this take you all day to make?"
Arlo, who was writing down a banana bread recipe for the monarchs of Molmol, looked up.
"Oh, no. Don't I wish. If I'd had all day, this would have really been one to remember. Nah, this was less than two hours."
The blood vessels in Shinobu's eyes began to expand apace.
"Two-Hours?"
Mutsumi also tried to help, with similar success.
"How much did your mother help you?"
Shinobu seemed to take heart at this. To be outclassed by a restaurant owner was no sin.
"Not at all. I made some fundamental mistakes with this sauce my mother would slap me for. I'm glad you were all so generous towards it. Hey—almost no one tried Maehara-San's sauce."
"Gravy. Shinobu said its tomato gravy."
"No, Su. Only people with stuck-up affectations and huge egos call it gravy. At least that's what the Chefs Association Di Roma says. My Mom was so upset to not crack the top 20 at last year's competition. But she got there with the French Pastries Parade."
Arlo grabbed a piece of bread and tasted Shinobu's sauce. He then grabbed up the pot.
"I know what's wrong. I can fix this."
To the stunned look of all, Arlo entered the kitchen. Chopping sounds were heard.
JOURNAL
To make a long story short, Shinobu's date was a much better cook than her, and had now invaded her kitchen.
Had he simply tried to mount her on the dinner table, he might have gotten farther. At least then, she would have been curious.
After beginning his emergency surgery on her sauce, he was escorted out by the girl of his dreams and our nightmares. I told myself the evening had to get better. Yeah. And I'm sure Kei thought 'Well Maybe They'll Only Hit Me That Once'.
"Sorry she kicked you out of the kitchen by you know—kicking you. Twice."
Arlo seemed to have an almost Seta-like calm about such things.
"That wasn't a kick, Mitsu-San. My Mom? Now, she can kick. Oh, it's so good to have a night off. Of course, when I get back, I have to dry-clean all the staff uniforms."
Motoko gulped.
"You mean—you have to drop them off at the dry-cleaners, right?"
"No, Aoyama-San. Mother trained me in all the laundering arts a while back. I still can't do starch quite correctly."
Mutsumi felt her heart threaten to go through even her considerable chest. Shinobu's date was also better at doing laundry.
"So-doing anything else tonight?"
"As a matter of fact, Otohime-San—I plan to get up to see Room 201 before I leave here. I have plans to offer a prayer of thanks there, for an event…"
Shinobu came out of the kitchen, shaking her head.
"You know, it does taste better with the extra cheese…what the hell?"
Arlo was being held fast by Naru and Mitsu, while a third party held a sword at his throat. That party was not Motoko.
"Sempai Kei? Why are you threatening my date's life?"
His eyes were ablaze with rage.
"This pervert wanted to go up to your room! Bragged that he would offer up a prayer of thanks afterward! Let's see him be thankful without any-"
Shinobu pushed them away, and got Arlo out of the line of fire. She then walked up and poked Keitaro in the chest with her finger.
"I count on you to stay sane. You're not like these psycho witches."
"But—but—he said he wanted to go to your room. First date—in front of everybody!"
She rolled her eyes.
"Sempai, Alice-San gave birth to him in my room!"
All three would be defenders of Shinobu's purity went pale.
"That would explain-"
"-a lot."
Mitsu sat back down.
"Damn—that almost made me nostalgic."
Shinobu took Arlo's hand.
"I believe you asked for a dance a few weeks ago."
He smiled, despite the attack.
"I believe you owe me one after that."
"No—if I gave you what you were owed after tonight—we'd have nothing to look forward to."
Su's equipment began to play the instrumental 'MusicBox Dancer', and Shinobu at last seemed to relax. At the end of the tender dance, the doorbell rang. Kei answered and was pushed past by a young man wearing the garb of a monk.
"Maehara-Chan, I have returned to you!"
Shinobu looked him over, up and down.
"Who are you?"
"It is I, Kenichi of Class 7-5! I know that I broke your heart so long ago, but I have returned to fight for it, if I must!"
The overly-dramatic young man pointed at Keitaro and Naru.
"Sir—Madam-I have come to petition you for the hand of your daughter Shinobu."
"Our-"
"-DAUGHTER! Kei, let me at him!"
As Kei tried to keep Naru from strangling this man, Kenichi turned to Shinobu.
"Obviously, your mother still holds a grudge for last time. Is this man your Onii-Chan?"
Arlo looked badly confused.
"I'm her date."
"Whoa-that's a bit rural, not to mention ecchi. To think that my breaking Maehara-Chan's heart made her that desperate."
Mutsumi turned to Mitsune.
"Not too bright, is he?"
Mitsu shook her head.
"I've seen him before—but where?"
Mutsumi had forgotten to take her iron supplement during the day's excitement, and faltered a bit as she turned towards Kenichi.
"Look, kid, you can't just burst in here and…"
Kenichi helped Mutsumi to the couch.
"Maehara-Chan—I think my return is too much for your grandmother to bear."
Mutsumi rose from the couch like a comet, grabbing one of Motoko's weapons.
"Okay-he dies."
"Everyone stop grabbing my swords!"
Su whispered to Motoko.
"Is this whole thing a set-up to teach me some sort of lesson?"
"No, Kaolla Su. I fear that it is not."
"Oh. Could we pretend that it was? It makes more sense that way."
Motoko took control.
"Young man—identify yourself—and only identify yourself. No declarative statements—please, I'm getting a headache."
"Very well. Four years ago this very night, I came here to meet those closest to my beloved Maehara-Chan. But I was only a boy, and the powerful women here caused me to flee in abject terror—especially the one who put me inside-"
Shinobu grabbed her head.
"A giant glass pinball. Oh, why now?"
Su smiled.
"I remember! We had to invent a new rule because of you."
"A rule dictated by Maehara-Chan's broken heart never to speak of me?"
Kei sat down.
"No. A rule suggested by my grandmother's lawyers not to put people inside giant glass pinballs."
Shinobu gingerly approached the former novice monk.
"Kenichi—how shall I put this-I have not thought about you almost since that night, which up until this one, I had the foolishness to believe was the worst one of my entire life. See that man over there? That's my Sempai. That man has been beaten silly, dropped out of moving planes, fired on with missiles, and like that. I once kicked him in the balls. But right now—that man, who has been through so much, is looking on the evening that I'M having with pity. Do you get it?"
"I do, Maehara-Chan."
Kenichi pointed at Arlo.
"You sir-will have to leave. You are bothering Maehara-Chan."
JOURNAL
We sent him flying, and this time, Kei was with us as we did. It would have been a heartwarming moment, if our hearts weren't beating so fast.
Finally, the evening ended, on a better note than it had any right to.
"You what ?"
Arlo shrugged.
"I said I had a wonderful time."
Shinobu looked back at her family, and then at Arlo.
"How? And—where?"
He smiled, and placed a hand gingerly—and briefly—against her cheek.
"Here and tonight, dummy—with you."
"But—what about my horrible tomato gravy?"
"Wasn't that your first ever attempt? I'd say it was pretty good for that."
"You were attacked!"
"So your family is concerned for you. I wish mine was."
"What about Kenichi?"
"That-was just weird. But my mother told me to expect weirdness and violence at the Hinata-Sou. She also set me up by not telling me 201 was now your room. I'm glad everyone let me offer up my prayer in there—under guard of course. Is there anything else I should know?"
Shinobu finally managed a smile.
"Never make me cry. It won't go well for you. And never 'fix' my food ever again."
"Shinobu-San?"
"Yes, Arlo-San?"
"I did offer up a silent prayer while in your room, in addition to the spoken one."
Shinobu blushed, and so did Arlo a bit.
"Until the day that prayer should become a reality, may I see you again? Perhaps next Tuesday?"
She nodded.
"Yes. After all, since September 4th was such a trial, surely the 11th will have to be a better day."
They stared into each other's eyes. Shinobu chuckled.
"Should one of us try to kiss the other, they'll go insane."
"Since in their case, I take that to be literal…"
He took and squeezed her hands in his.
"…that will have to do."
Arlo bowed before each member of Shinobu's family at the Sou, presenting Keitaro with a picture of his mother Alice and Haruka, taken almost fifteen years before. Shinobu would tease her Sempai sometime later, for Shinobu and 'Auntie' at that age bore a striking resemblance to one another. After he left and was out of sight and possible earshot, Shinobu pumped her arm into the air in triumph.
"It's over!"
She then turned and saw her assembled family, evil wicked grins pasted on their faces. Naru gestured.
"C'mere, Kid—c'mere. We—have to talk."
On another front, war seemed likely to erupt.
"Where were you? We're only one week past grand opening, and you take the night off?"
Arlo was half again this woman's size, yet he would always feel a foot tall in her presence.
"Mother—you gave me tonight off. To go and have dinner with Maehara-San at the Hinata-Sou."
"So? You couldn't have checked in, to see if we needed you to come back?"
"I get one night off a week-"
The kitchen knife flew past his face, grazing his cheek. Alice stopped and seemed horrified.
"Arlo, I didn't mean it-it's just been such a night. You do—deserve a night off. I-I—"
He held her.
"My face is my own, Mother. I am not him. Don't torture yourself so over a man who was never worth it."
"You—you are bleeding-"
"It's just a cut—just another cut. I know how to treat them by now."
When he had gone—or retreated—to the chain restaurant's office, Alice Guthrie found herself facing her own loyal staff. The Head Waitress, a woman Haruka had trained during her brief time with Alice, spoke for all of them.
"Ours is a land of traditions and loyalty. But we here would be so loyal to you in an anarchic realm with no morals. We just owe you that much. But we must see no more knives, or even slaps, Guthrie-Dono. Arlo is that good of a boy. He is like our own. Even for you, we offer this warning : Do Not Make Arlo Cry. Ever Again."
To be fair, Alice was not a Jekyll-And-Hyde. She was just a woman who had known some pain, which she kept in a very dark corner. That darkness had begun to bleed out. A call to Haruka gave her the name of a doctor. It was one she put aside for the present. She would have cause to regret this.
Her son, who did indeed know how to fix his facial cuts, was thinking not of his angry mother but of the smile of a young woman Naru Narusegawa considered her greatest rival for the heart of her fiancé.
JOURNAL
If she thought that we would be anything but delighted by her apparent choice of boyfriend, Shinobu Maehara was being foolish.
If she thought that we were just going to let this day and the nervous wrecks her nerves had made of all of us go, Shinobu Maehara was being insane.
Kei.
"A—disaster."
Naru.
"Making you—miserable."
Motoko.
"Psycho-Witches."
Mutsumi.
"Bouncy."
Mitsune.
"Just—don't."
Su.
"Extra ingredients-say, that was a threat to poison all of us, wasn't it?"
Shinobu closed her eyes, then opened them with a smile on her face.
"If I say that I love you all and that I will make it up to you for the way I've acted, will that be enough?"
Their faces melted to see this smile, and each turned to look at the other, the verdict being a no brainer.
"NO!"
"Hell No!"
"You think you can just spout off that much garbage..."
"I mean, he was a cute kid, but to go all 'Bad Seed' on us…"
"Do you really have the slightest idea how you acted?"
Mitsune stepped forward.
"Stop, stop! Folks, as Ryobo, I have found that our tension levels are rising. There are three main reasons for this. One is that two of us hump the night away uncaring of those of us who have to listen. Two is that one of us chose today to use up nearly all the goodwill she's built up and turn into The Return Of Datezilla. Three is-we're simply not getting enough exercise anymore. Face it, the intruder pervert is now our brother—and we've all seen so much intrusions alone don't matter as much. So I combined problems two and three."
Mitsu raised a finger in the air.
"Each night, time and weather permitting, we will have a Keitaro Hunt. The Keitaro will be chased like in olden days, happy golden days of gore. Faithful friends who are dear to us—will hunt the Keitaro down like the horn-dog he is."
Shinobu objected.
"Sempai Kei hasn't done anything to deserve this. You can't punish him just for our exercise!"
Mitsune pulled out a cap. It showed on its front the combined spelling of Keitaro's name written in katakana with a stylized English 'K'. Keitaro himself pulled out a set of his old glasses minus the lenses. Both of these were placed on Shinobu. Mutsumi hugged the girl's face into her chest.
"That's why each hunt will have a 'Designated Keitaro'. Now run along."
A skillet in hand, Kei nodded.
"Run fast."
"But I'm not immortal!"
"Then run even faster."
Shinobu quickly realized her peril, and got into the act as she ran off, the others in hot pursuit. Despite everything, she couldn't help but smile once she was out of sight.
*If I can't have him, I'll be him.*
"Waaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!"
JOURNAL
She played her part so well, we decided to let her keep on being Kei each night for the next week. She may not love her sempai as much after this.
As the day finally ended, the worrywart Urashimas heard from Grandma, who is fine and is enjoying a city actually built below sea-level. Grandma spoke to me, and said what she was doing next Tuesday, but I honestly can't remember right now.
END JOURNAL ENTRY, 9/4/2001
THE CITY OF NEW ORLEANS
The musicians finished their classic number for a delighted older lady. The outdoor café's owner approached her.
"Glad you liked it, Ma'am. That one song all but defines N'awlins in some respects."
Hinata nodded happily.
"*When The Saints Go Marching In* was always a favorite of my late husband Awa. It could even make him cry—oh my!"
She looked overhead.
"Those planes are flying awfully low."
The owner pshawed this notion.
"Nothin' but an illusion caused by living in our little fish bowl, Ma'am. Because the city is so far down in, planes landing at a normal height look all off. Not anything to worry about."
Yet it was that Hinata could not shake the chill she received from the thought that the planes she saw were flying way too low for her comfort. Even the fun and festivities of life in the Big Easy could not shake that off. At a very old French church, she lit candles for all her children, including Haruka's unborn child, and then one for the spirit of her beloved Awa.