"I can see why you'd feel that way, Mom," you admit. After all, your first and only outing beyond the town limits went mildly disastrously. Granted, nobody died, and you weren't in trouble with the law or anything like that, but you WERE still right next to Ground Zero for a ninja battle disguised as a terrorist bombing and general riot. That's the sort of thing any mother should get upset about.
"It's just... well... even if I'm planning on writing to the friends I made in Japan, I don't know when I'll be able to see them in person again. I'd just like to take the opportunity, you know?"
Your mother sighs. "I know, Alex. And I promise, I'll discuss it with your father - but I'm not promising anything more than that."
Her tone was a bit less scared than before, you think, but those last words make it clear she's not going to budge any further on the subject than she already has. Judging that you've done as much as you can here, you decide to let the topic go for now.
"Okay, Mom."
And then you get back to drying dishes
You consider going to talk with your Dad, maybe trying to argue him around into supporting your wish to go to Kahlua's birthday, but you're not really sure what you could say to him except the stuff you already told your mother - a line of argument that didn't improve your position with her all that much. Not to mention that your mother already said up-front that she'd talk to your Dad about your request to attend the party before making a decision. Considering how uncomfortable she was with the whole idea, even that much was quite a concession, and going to your father before your mother has had a chance to have that talk with him could be taken as a sign of ingratitude or mistrust on your part. And that's entirely the wrong message to be sending.
Besides, you have letters you could be writing. Not to Kahlua, of course - not yet, not until your folks have rendered a verdict - but you should probably get a letter to Altria written up pronto. The sooner you have the words asking the British girl to tell Ambrose...
Never having written a letter to anybody before, you're not pleased with your first attempt. It seems too short and abrupt, verging on rude. You erase it with a simple cantrip and try again, but this time you find yourself veering too far in the opposite direction. "Loquacious," is what you think the formal term is, but "wordy" will do. Again, you erase the attempt. The third time appears to be the charm, brief enough that you don't feel like you're sending Altria an entire chapter out of a novel, but still having enough salutations and "how've you beens?" up-front that your subsequent, not-at-all desperate attempt to keep Ambrose under something resembling control doesn't strike you as too abrupt.
It's not that you don't trust the old man, it's just that... well, you don't trust the old man.
Dubbing that a successful first draft, you set it aside, take a breath, and try your hand at writing to one of your friends in Japan.
You decided that getting away to LA for an afternoon was too unlikely, and the notion of bringing someone as eccentric as Ambrose to your house too unappealing, to serious contemplate either of them. And even if you were fully committed to never seeing Ambrose again, you question your ability to hint, ask, threaten, or beg for him to stay away that the old wizard wouldn't cheerfully ignore.
So you agreed to meet him somewhere in Sunnydale, OTHER than your house. You also decided to talk to Lu-sensei about any places he might recommend for receiving an out-of-town spellcaster; after all, you can't keep ducking into the dojo forever.
You'll probably end up erasing and re-writing that part of your letter to Altria again, after you've spoken with your teacher, but that's why it's a draft, right?
You're a bit torn about who to try writing to first. Leaving your first letter to Tatsuki aside is easy enough to decide on; after that business with the Hell-chains and the oni lineage, she's the most likely of the other kids to not be pleased to hear from you, and you want to get some more practice at writing in so that you can make sure your letter isn't rubbing salt in the wound, so to speak. You also find it fairly simple to decide on leaving Kasumi's letter for later as well. As the daughter of the head of a ninja clan, you want to make a good impression... and you don't know yet whether you want to let on that the renegade family member who tried to kill her and her parents decided to write you a politely menacing missive.
That leaves you in something of a three-way deadlock between writing to Ayane, writing to Ichigo, and writing to Kagome. Of the three, you'd say you have the stronger relationship with Ayane, if only by dint of the number of times you talked to her being greater than those of the other two. On the other hand, Ichigo is the only other boy in your little group of penpals, which is a major point in his favor. He even has the big brother thing going on. As for Kagome, she was genuinely nice and did you a favor even when she didn't really have to.
You end up writing brief letters to each of the three. You're not really satisfied with these even as rough drafts, but they're what you've got for the moment. On the upside, you got some practice at writing Japanese.
Gained Japanese D (Plus) (E (Plus) without Comprehend Languages)
Gained Literacy E (Plus)
Not too long after that, you glance at the clock. Seeing that it's past eight, you decide to call it an early night. It's been a long, busy day. You note that Zelda is already in bed, and that your parents are talking downstairs, the TV turned off - which is a sign that the subject in question is fairly serious, then.
The next day passes in a blur. School is normal, although you do take the time to wonder if you should let your friends here know that you're writing to your friends overseas.
Class at Lu-sensei's after school is about the same for you as always, though it's a good day for Larry, who demonstrates an actual ki presence for the first time. He's quite pleased with himself, and while you did better on your first breakthrough, you don't deny your friend some well-earned congratulations.
When you return home, you find your Dad's car in the driveway ahead of you. Evidently he decided not to work overtime tonight. That could be good for you, or bad, or just a sign that your father felt he needed more time to talk to your Mom about whether or not they should let you go to Kahlua's party.
You wonder: should you push for an answer?
Your friends' reactions to your mention of penpals is fairly muted. Amy and Larry think it's neat, if only because neither of them has ever met anybody with overseas penpals before, but since they don't know any of the people you're writing to, their interest is that of any other kid who's seen a shiny new thing - quickly caught, quickly waning.
Cordelia, as ever, has more to say on the matter. A good part of it is disbelieving disapproval that you're actually planning on writing to "the snooty little vampire princess," but Miss Chase does approve that you're going to be writing to Altria and the two ninja girls.
In her words, "They're tough, they're nice, and they have good taste in clothes," so it only makes sense to stay in touch. Though the fact that you have to deal with "the magical fashion disaster" as part of keeping in contact with Miss Drake is... unfortunate.
Cordelia also feels it's a good idea for you to keep some kind of dialogue open with Tatsuki. You dropped a pretty huge bomb on her - Ambrose may have been the one to deliver the scary news, but you're the one who pointed the old wizard in the girl's direction in the first place - and as far as Cordy's concerned, you owe Tatsuki a chance to tell you how she feels about that. Writing to Ichigo just seems to go along with writing to Tatsuki, and Cordy agrees that sending a letter of thanks to Kagome for helping you with your "magic stuff" is the least you can do.
Then the lunch bell rings, and you don't get much of a chance to pursue that line of discussion for the rest of the day.
[x] Just ask the folks if they're still thinking on it, and if so, let it be.
Kicking your shoes off as you enter the house, you glance into the living room and - in a scene reminiscent of the previous night - find your parents talking, the TV switched off. Zelda is sitting on the floor, playing with one of her kiddy concentration puzzle-games; Moblin lies nearby, watching your sister fit plastic blocks of various shapes and colors into matching spaces in a large, sort of top-shaped object.
"I'm home," you announce.
"Hey, Alex," your father says.
"Hi, Alexth," Zelda replies absently, not taking her attention away from her toy for a moment.
Feeling oddly bereft by that lack of little-sister affection, you look from one parent to the next. "Still talking about what I asked last night?"
"Now, Alex-" your mother begins.
You quickly raise your hands. "No, no, it's fine. Really, I get it. And there's no big rush - the party isn't for another six weeks or so, and I can get a letter there pretty quick."
That appears to satisfy your mother. "Alright, then."
"On that note, I'm going to be up in my room until dinner. Got some homework to do, and some letters to write. Um... do either of you have any advice on that part? I mean, I've never actually written to people before..."
"Don't use slang," your mother says at once. "Your Japanese friends probably won't understand the references. For that matter, the British girl might not get a lot of them, either."
"And keep the subject matter light for the first few letters," your father adds. "You don't just ask a person about important personal details, especially not by mail - not until you've known them for a good long while."
A few more helpful tips follow, and then - thanking your folks - you head upstairs. Homework is first, and fairly easy, just time-consuming. After it's out of the way, you spend maybe half an hour working on a rough draft of a letter to Kahlua. Since the talking bat Shinshi is due to show up this evening, you figure you ought to have something to send with him like you said you would, and Lu-sensei DID advise you to check with Kahlua and make sure that her parents won't object to her having invited you over.
Dinner comes and goes, and you spend another hour after that revising the letter to Kahlua until you're reasonably satisfied that it's neat, polite, and serious enough to pass muster. Or at least you hope so.
It's getting dark out, now. Shinshi will probably be along soon.
Where do you want to meet the bat?
Under different circumstances, you doubt that you'd even consider letting a supernatural being that you hardly know enter your house, but Shinshi was quite well-behaved the other night. And if by some chance he turns out to have sinister intentions, you're confident in your ability to handle one being who is, to all appearances, just a really very intelligent Keese.
Granted, he could be a Vire in disguise, but even then, you could take him without too much trouble.
You amble over to your window and open it up about as far as it'll go. The resulting space probably isn't wide enough for Shinshi to fly through without some clever acrobatics, but there's more than enough room on the roof for him to land and climb inside when he arrives. For that matter, you could probably climb out through the window and make your way down the side of the house without too much trouble. There's never been a need for you to try, but the thought has occurred to you a time or two in the past. Maybe one of these days you'll give it a go.
Shrugging, you return to your desk and your correspondence.
It's another half-hour before you hear a faint thump outside. Looking up, you find the red-eyed bat has landed neatly outside your window.
"Good evening, chu," Shinshi greets you with a little bow. "May I come in, chu?"
"Sure. I have a letter for Kahlua here. Just let me get an envelope..."
Having thought ahead, you have a small stack of such at hand, ready for use. Picking one up, you give your letter a final check to make sure it includes everything you wanted to ask about. A request for confirmation that Kahlua's parents know you've been invited to her birthday and have no objections? Check. An inquiry about relying on Shinshi for future correspondence? Also check. Assurance that even if one or both groups of parents nix the party idea, you'll at least get Kahlua a present? Check again.
Everything seems to be in order, and so you slide the letter into the envelope, seal it up, and walk over to the window to hand it to Shinshi, who has settled himself a bit more comfortably on the windowsill.
It occurs to you, as the bat tucks the letter away - somewhere - that you might want to say something to him. If so... what?