I realized I've been moving very slowly though this story, and I apologize. There's been a lot of in and out of classrooms. This was going to be another part to this chapter but it got too long, but I'm getting there I promise! Just stay with me please! That's all I ask (and review!).
As the last chattering students trouped past the open classroom door, Momiji slid his bag onto the desk across from the one occupied by Namie. School was out and they had the classroom to themselves to work on their project.
"Ready to doze off?" Momiji asked when he glanced up to see Namie covering a yawn.
She shook her head blearily. "I'm just tired."
"You're always tired! How much do you sleep at night?"
"I don't sleep," Namie murmured distractedly, running a hand over her face and hair.
Momiji blinked. "You don't sleep? What? Why not?"
Now it was Namie's turn to blink. "Stress and stuff I guess," she replied with guarded casualness. She seemed more awake now as she opened her history book.
"Stress about what?" persisted Momiji.
"Our history project," Namie answered curtly. "Now can we start working on it?"
Momiji watched her curiously as she turned a few pages. Then, when he made it clear that he was not going to move, she sighed. To his surprise she didn't offer an explanation or get annoyed. She simply looked at him with green eyes full of weariness and asked "Please?"
Without another word, Momiji picked up his pencil and began looking through his own book for ideas. "Ah yes," he muttered. "Now we simply face the problem of making economics interesting." Out of the corner of his eye he saw a smile float around the edges of Namie's mouth.
Their study session was interrupted just fifteen minutes later, however, by a tinny pop song emanating from Namie's pocket.
Momiji raised an eyebrow and gave her a smirk. "That's your ringtone? You know it's aimed at pre-teen girls right?"
Namie rolled her eyes but couldn't completely suppress a small smile. The more time Momiji spent with her, the more he noticed her starting to relax. "It was not my pick," she said as she pulled the phone out.
The smile disappeared when she saw the name on the screen, to be replaced with a look of confusion.
"Who is it?" Momiji craned his neck to get a look at the name.
"My brother," frowned Namie. "Why is he calling? I told him to go straight home and I'd be there later."
The phone continued to play its upbeat tune.
Namie glanced at Momiji. "Do you mind if I take it?" He shook his head and watched her walk out the room, putting the phone to her ear. The door clicked shut and Momiji was left by himself.
Patience, along with self-containment and respecting personal boundaries, was not Momiji's strong suit. He fiddled with his pencil for a few minutes, read half a paragraph, and finally gave up. Unable to contain his curiosity, Momiji pushed off from his chair and opened the door just wide enough to peek down the hall.
Namie's back was to him but Momiji could hear the same note of forced calm that she had used with the teacher.
"Jeez Jien," she was saying. "We've talked about this." Pause. "I don't care what happened." A sigh. "Honestly, of all the times to pick, Jien." She ran her hand through her hair agitatedly. "No don't bother Dad with this just yet." Another sigh and in a more dejected tone she continued, "I'll figure something out. Tell Anii to wait in the library until I get there. Yeah, I'll see you later."
Namie hung up the phone. Momiji was now leaning in the completely open doorway watching her, but she didn't seem to notice. Instead she put her face in her hands and leaned headfirst against the wall.
"Damn it, Jien," she whispered in a cracked voice.
Unable to stand back anymore, Momiji left his hiding place and came towards her. "Are you ok?"
Namie dropped her hands to look at him, and he stopped in his tracks. For a long moment he stared into her face as the obvious tears filling her eyes threatened to spill over. Then she was wiping them away, scrunching up her face, and pinching the bridge of her nose to stop the rest.
"My idiot brother," she began, her voice still thick, but getting stronger, "has landed himself in detention for fighting. Again. And they will not let him go until a parent or older sibling comes to sign him out."
Momiji didn't quite know what to say.
"I'd be temped to let him rot there for a little while," Namie went on. A sort of deep anger both seemed to calm her frustration and make her much more blunt. "But my little sister is there too and now she's stuck at school without a way to get home. Arg!" Namie balled her fists in her hair again. "I don't need this right now!"
Still shocked by the outbursts, Momiji approached her cautiously, hoping to bestow some type of helpful comfort. As he came closer, he reached out his arms to hug her, but at the last minute, reflex kicked in and his could go no further. Whatever it might be to other people, to him a hug was a big deal, and still a gesture he was unused to around most people. Momiji finally settled for patting her awkwardly on the arm.
Namie jumped slightly, as if she had forgotten he was there. "I'm sorry," she said, also looking surprised at her rant. "I don't mean to bother you with this."
That phase again. Don't want to bother you. Momiji cocked his head but smiled. "S'ok. Wish I could help. Do you need to go get him now?"
"Yeah," sighed Namie. "Sorry to cut our work short. I'll make it up to you." She brushed passed him to gather her things from the room.
Momiji stood in the hall. It was probably better that he go home anyway. It would be quiet at the main house with only a couple servants there and later he had to go visit his dad so he should get his homework done before he spent his evening wandering around an empty office building and making halfhearted stabs at conversation and— "Can I come?"
The words were out of his mouth before he had even really thought about them. Namie paused with her bag half way on her shoulder. Conflicting emotions flitted across her face and Momiji thought she was going to say no. But then she shrugged, settled her bag, and said skeptically, "If you really want to."
Momiji grinned and ran to get his things. "Of course! I want to meet your delinquent siblings."
Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya