Chapter 22: The Nature of Bees

Hannah waited for the little honeybee to lap up the rose pollen on her finger, its velvety yellow body tickling her skin as it licked and buzzed. After a minute or so, the task was finished, and bidding a fond farewell, the little honeybell turned herself around, flicked her small antennae at the generous human in thanks, and flew off.

"You're welcome," Hannah chimed as the insect departed, possibly returning to her hive with the saddlebags of fresh pollen clinging to her legs.

Honeybees were such amazing creatures; Never stopping, never tiring, hurrying from one pollen-filled bloom to the next. Unafraid of new opportunities. Hornets and wasps, however, were mean spirited and highly aggressive, as were German dark bees and the African "killer" bees. Common bumblebees were often mistaken for their honeybee cousins, but were not the same in both size and mannerism and could not produce honey. Other honey-less, distant relatives included ants, sawflies, and the noblest of all hymenoptera, the praying mantis, but none worked harder, nor carried as much environmental importance as the honeybee, which was why Hannah loved them so. The same golden insect emblazoned all over St. Peter's Baldachin and who's wax was used in making Paschal candles were a gardener's best friend. It was said that a single bee colony could pollinate close to 300 million flowers in a day, meaning if there were no honeybees - or bees in general - there'd be no flowers. If there were no flowers, there would be no flower gardeners. If there were no gardeners the world would be a much darker and less beautiful place. Crops would fail, as would roughly of all flowering plants without some sort of human intervention. Not good.

For this reason, Hannah's affection for the honeybee was insatiable. They could do no wrong in her eyes and not once had she been stung. Mother Nature's little helpers.

Having done her good deed for the day, Hannah wiped her hands over her dirty overalls, put her gloves back on, and picked up her gardening shears and disinfectant wipes. The roses weren't going to trim themselves.

Last week was spent tirelessly transplanting the roses from Jujutsu High to the Gojo estate. These were the same roses she had planted her first week; the night she was attacked from returning to her dorm after dark. Hannah had woken before sunrise carting the wheelbarrow and a shovel. Finally August, the rose shrubs were now rose bushes and had prospered beautifully in their foreign environment, taking on a deep reddish-purple hue reminiscent of merlot. To minimize any damage she might incur, Hannah surgically dug a moat around the thorny rose shrubs with the shovel, avoiding the delicate root hairs, and used her gloved hands to (again very carefully) unearth each prickly rose bush from the soil. Technically, it was not advisable to transplant roses in the middle of summer when the flowers were beginning to bloom and the sun was at its hottest. They were also covered with leaves and very heavy (for her). Hannah worried the whole procedure would stress the plants, causing them to go into "transplant shock," but these were no ordinary roses. They would endure, and once all six roses had been successfully uprooted, she enlisted the help of Mr. Aoyama to wheel them up (yes, all the way up) the hill to the house.

They had placed the bushes in their own individual pot. Hannah's homemade compost wasn't ready. So she bought a light soilless mixture made of peat moss and perlite instead. Excellent for retaining moisture, yet allow for water to drain properly from the drilled holes at the bottom of the containers. In the end, the hardy roses not only survived the shocking ordeal, but thrived, their ruffled petals blooming like plumage, untraumatized by the event. They weren't going anywhere. If the attracted honeybees were any indicator.

Hannah ran a disinfectant wipe over the blades and went back to trimming, cutting at a clean forty-five degree angle right above where the stem met another leaf. The clipped rose was then transferred to a water bucket with the others. So far, she had enough roses to make a bouquet for the English dining room. They hardly ever ate in there, but the wine-colored flowers would pair lovely with the oak furnishings.

She began humming a tune. A shadow eclipsed her as she clipped another rose off its stem. She felt a weight land on her braided crown, something like lips and a nose.

"Why're you doing that?"

Hannah didn't have to look up to know who it was, not that his voice didn't give him away. Lately, Satoru liked perching his head on top of hers as a way of grabbing her attention.

"To clean the shears," she answered, showing him the shears and wipes, his head staying nestled where it was. "Roses are prone to infection, so it's best to sanitize the blades after each use." She held up the freshly cut rose for him to take. "Here, smell one."

Satoru took the multi-layered rose, aware of the thorns, and drew it to his nose. His brows shot straight up. "Woah." The smell was so sweet and fruity he could literally taste it on his tongue, forcing him to comically choke down a cough.

Hannah tried suppressing a giggle. "Intense, isn't it?"

The Six Eyes wielder nodded, blinking a few times. "Boy, you're not kidding." He cleared his throat and held the fragrant bloom to his nose once more, taking a more moderate whiff. The deep burgundy petals felt velvety soft on his skin. "Smells almost like candy."

Hannah's smile widened. "These roses were a gift to me from Sister Edith before I came here."

"Sister Edith," Satoru mused in thought, rose still pressed to his nose. "You've mentioned that name before. Who was she again?"

"She was my Japanese instructor during my stay with the Sisters of St. Horatia. Every word I'm speaking to you is because of her."

"Ah, now I remember. Sounds like she was quite the lady."

"Of course. The best."

"You must miss her then."

Hannah's smile slipped a crack. "Very much so," she spoke somberly, running her hands over the rose petals in her lap. "Edith was fluent in almost every language you could think of, from Greek to Juǀʼhoan. I'll probably never see her again, circumstances being what they are."

Satoru's brows furrowed. "How come?"

Hannah snipped off another rose. "The Sisters of St. Horatia is a cloistered order. They're not permitted to leave the convent."

"Wait, for real? Like ever?"

She turned to nod solemnly. "Like ever."

"That's a little extreme, don't you think?"

"It's the life they chose, Satoru." Hannah rested the rose on her lap. "The Sisters of St. Horatia are unique in that they're archivists. They specialize in preserving and interpreting ancient texts. Magical texts. It's believed their library holds some of the West's oldest sorcerery. Mother Superior oversees the whole operation."

"Mother Superior?"

"The abbess," Hannah said. "In convents, the head nun in charge is called 'Mother Superior.' I don't know what her actual name is. She's tied closely to the Association and was tasked with facilitating where I went as a child, including my education."

Satoru's face perked up. "Oh right, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

She stared blankly at him. "You want me to join a convent?"

"Wha — No." He seemed partially offended. "Why would I want you to join a — "

"Relax, silly. I'm teasing," Hannah said, perhaps a little too happy he took the bait. "Married women aren't allowed to join convents. As soon as they saw our marital records, I'd be swiftly booted out."

"Oh." Her husband's shoulders drooped. "Well, I wanted to get your thoughts on something. See if you might be interested."

"Sure, but can you give me a moment to finish with these? I'm almost done."

Satoru eyed the bouquet of roses she was assembling. "Anything I can do to help?"

Hannah stopped her pruning and thought for a moment. "Actually, now that you've mentioned it…." She leaned over and patted the large rose pot in front of her. "I'd like to move this one up to the house, but it's too heavy. Think you could lend a girl a hand, Mr. Muscles?"

Satoru issued her a mock salut. "Ma'am, yes ma'am," and rolled his shoulders, biceps and triceps rippling under his shirt. "Watch and be amazed, kiddos. Mr. Muscles is gonna show you how it's done."

Topped with heavy soil and plant, the large clay pot weighed well over a hundred pounds. It would've easily taken two average-sized people to lift, but Satoru managed the feat on his own no problem, a testament to how strong he physically was. Hannah had seen him bench press more than half his body weight with workout equipment. Yet she stayed close behind as he hobbled to the house, awkwardly carrying the pot, for fear he'd throw out his back. She didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until he stationed the container near the stairs leading up to the porch. Hannah nodded. This new spot would do nicely.

"Woo, that was good," Satoru said, wiping the sweat off his brow and looked up at the sky. "Sun is brutal today."

Hannah agreed. It had grown considerably hot since lunch. Deciding to take a break from the summer sun, the couple collected the clipped roses and walked back inside the house to the reception hall. There on the center table was a glass pitcher filled with ice water, two cups, two damp towels for each to cool off with, and a vase to put the roses in. Makoto sure was sneaky.

"So," Hannah said, after finishing her first glass of ice water. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

Satoru ran one of the cool towels over his neck and chin. "Tsumiki and Megumi's school evaluations came in."

Hannah poured herself another glass. "And the verdict?"

He put the towel down and smirked. "Take a look for yourself." She observed him reach inside his back pocket and pull out two opened envelopes. Curious, Hannah walked over and took them from him, re-opening each and laying the contents on the table for a better look.

Japanese primary school evals (from first to sixth grade) were assessed by a three-tiered rank system (1,2,3), with 1/C indicating the student "needs effort," and 3/A indicating the student's grasp on the subject was "satisfactory" or higher. Hannah eyed the two report cards, noting how Tsumiki scored nothing below a 2 ("almost satisfactory") with Music, Social Studies, and Japanese being her best subjects. Megumi also received high marks. The lowest he scored was a 2 in Music and English, with Mathematics, Science, Sports (and surprisingly enough, Art) all scoring a 3.

Below the subject lines were the behavior evaluations where teachers listed the students' cooperation in class, both towards staff and the other children. Hannah skimmed those parts, but caught the underlined text "gets into fights" on Megumi's page. Perhaps she would ask about it later, though overall she was pleased by the outcome.

"See, I told Megumi he had nothing to worry about," she laughed. "He did well, and from the looks of it, so did Tsumiki."

"Tsumiki's scores are always good," Satoru said. "But Megumi? His English scores? I've never seen them stay above a 1. It's the only subject he struggles with on top of socializing. These are his marks now." He then revealed to her two other evaluation cards, placing them next to the newer one on the table. "And these were his marks from December and March."

Hannah examined the older evaluations. His grades looked relatively the same, except for English, which showed a glaring 1 printed in the center box on each. His new score was 2. Megumi had improved his grade by a full number in the course of a single semester.

"Any chance you had something to do with it?" Satoru added slyly.

Hannah looked up. "I didn't do much," she said, shaking her head. "He understood the basics. All he needed was someone to explain them better."

Butterflies swarmed her stomach as his lips came together, grinning so wide it seemed almost maniacal. "Excellent. That's exactly what I wanted to hear." Hannah blinked at him confused for a moment, but then he explained his reasoning. "I had a meeting with the school board this morning at Jujutsu High."

"Yes, I remember you telling me. How'd it go?"

He gave her a wink. "The wait is officially over. You, my dear Hannah, are looking at Jujutsu High's new hire."

Hannah's eyes widened. "Really? They gave you the teaching job?" Satoru nodded and a beaming smile soon appeared on her face. "Oh Satoru, congratulations. That's wonderful news. I'm happy for you."

Her husband bashfully scratched his head. "Thanks. My first day won't be till next year, so there's still time, but that's not all." He lifted a finger, tapping her lightly on the nose. "The department will also be in search of a new English teacher soon."

Her smile faltered. "An English teacher?"

"Yeah." Satoru walked over and situated himself down on one of the cushions, leaning his elbow on the table. "Seems the current one is looking to throw in the towel. To be honest, I don't know much about him - cause yours truly tested out of English freshman year - but apparently he's been teaching for a long time or whatever. During the meeting he asked whether we knew any potential candidates to replace him." He pointed at her. "And I mentioned you."

"Me?" Hannah said.

"Yeah, you."

A couple seconds slowly ticked by.

"You're joking."

"No, I'm not joking."

"You think I could teach English at Jujutsu High?

"If you wanted to," he caveated.

"And the school board wouldn't mind? Spouses working together, I mean."

"I don't see the harm." Satoru shrugged. "It's not like English and Jujutsu orbit in the same circles."

"Why would you mention my name, Satoru? I don't have a uni degree or a teaching certificate."

"Neither do I," her husband chuffed. "I never went to university. The only certification I have is a high school diploma."

"But that's still more than I have. And my Japanese citizenship hasn't been finalized. Won't that hinder things?"

Satoru waved his hand. "Naw, we can find a way around that crap. We do it all the time."

"Then what of the estate? If we're both busy teaching, who's going to run it? Makoto can't juggle it all by herself."

"The estate is busy now because I've been putting off renovations for years. Once those are completed things'll start to die down."

"I have no credentials, Satoru," Hannah pleaded, hammering the message home. "No references. No formal education. I don't even know the first thing about preparing lectures or grading papers, and this would be high school level English, not sixth grade. My public speaking skills are rubbish. I'll make a complete fool of myself in front of everyone."

"No you won't," Satoru assured. "I'll be here to help. Plus, you'll have a year to prepare, and Jujutsu High's enrollment has been on the decline for decades. The classes shouldn't exceed more than a handful of students at most."

"But what if someone else needs the job?" Hannah kept lamenting. "Someone with experience who's better qualified. I'd be selfishly taking the opportunity away from them."

"Then that's their loss," Satoru tisked, rolling his eyes. "Don't get me wrong, Princess, I admire your compassion - love it even - but we gotta strike while the iron is hot here. Nobody is gonna shame you for being ambitious every once in a while. The reason I'm asking is because I think you'd be right for the job. Give you something to do besides loafing around the house all day making flower arrangements," he tucked a strand of loose auburn hair behind her ear, his new favorite habit, and tilted her chin to look at him as he spoke softly. "Can't have those brains go to waste now, can we?"

Hannah looked away, a flush forming on her cheeks. "Flower arranging isn't 'loafing around,'" she pouted, crossing her arms. "I've been outside since dawn."

She felt Satoru bridge the gap between them, wrapping her in his embrace.

"Look," he sighed defeatistly in her hair. "Forget I said anything. Clearly you're not interested."

Rather than push him away, Hannah leaned further into him, resting her head comfortably on his chest. She felt so safe there, entranced by the steady rhythm of his heart. "I never said I wasn't interested," she mumbled into his cotton tee. "I'm simply questioning how it would work."

"Oh, it would work," he said deeply, voice rumbling under her cheek. "I'd make it work."

"You shouldn't use your position to land me a job, Satoru. That's cheating."

"Hey, there's gotta be some perks to being me," he chuckled. "Not like I'd have to say much. You're from England, the frickin' motherland of English. What other credentials would they need?"

"A lot."

He laughed and undid her braid, combing his fingers through her long hair. She didn't tell him no because it felt nice. "Just tell me you'll think about it, okay?" he said. "Pretty please with a cherry on top?"

"But what about — "

"Nope, no more buts."

"But I — "

"Access denied."

"Satoru."

"Satoru is unable to take your call at this time. Please leave a message and he will get back with you after this obnoxiously long beep. Beeeeeeeeeee…. "

Hannah slumped and let out the smallest exhale, thus giving up the fight. "Fine, I'll think about it."

He paused mid-beep.

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Yay!" He hugged her closer, lifting her off the ground and swaying back and forth. "Knew you wouldn't let me down, Princess. I knew it, knew it, knew it."

Hannah couldn't help but smile. Cheek smothered against him, he placed her back on the ground, allowing her to tilt her head up.

The Six Eyes were like twin spheres of blue abalone, shining down at her. She could see every shade and tint; turquoise, chalcedony, larimar, the sky and sea. How she adored looking at his eyes. They were none of this world. Magnetized, she found herself standing on her tippy toes, lips soft and pliant, wanting to be nearer. Words did needn't be exchanged. Satoru got the message and lowered his hands to her hips. Gravity became weightless as he propelled her upwards again, bringing their mouths together, her body melting into his sweet kiss.

It was good they had these moments to fall back on because the next few days would not be as kind. This was but the calm before the storm.

Rougher waters lay ahead.

AUTHOR'S NOTES

For this chapter's notes, please visit AO3 (Same name).

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