The time has finally come for Ataru to confront Lum! Or has it? Let's find out!

CHAPTER 12: SURPRISE

After what felt like an eternity at the office, Friday evening had finally come. Ataru declined drinks at Wasureppoi with his coworkers, despite their protests and nosy inquiries, and fled into the night for the train home with every intention of making good on yesterday's promise. Except, once he got there, Ataru found himself afflicted by apprehension that had him restlessly pacing the apartment.

With the certitude of a seasoned lawyer he argued the merits of putting off such a terrifying task. Normally Ataru was a man of (situational) conviction, someone who understood when something needed to be done and could follow through. But as it turned out, when it came to matters of romance, transforming intention into decisive action was much harder. None of this was really new for Ataru; he'd always had trouble making moves when it came to Lum. This was different though, because nobody was around to keep him in check, so to speak. And there was no conflict forcing his hand and bringing them together. This problem was entirely of his own making. Everything was up to him, and if he didn't make good on his choice to reach out, there was a very real risk of never seeing her again or, worse, that she'd move on with someone else. Those fears provided a convincing counterargument, and he used them to psych himself up in the privacy of his washroom.

There is no point in delaying this anymore, he insisted to his own reflection. What good had it done him anyway? All he'd gained from that was days and nights of restless longing. Just do it quick like ripping off a Band-Aid, he ardently coached his copy in the bathroom mirror, only for it to stare back fearfully as if to say, 'easier said than done'. Stupid stubborn idiot.

Ataru dropped his head and dragged himself to the kitchen for another soda; his fifth that evening. His movements were sluggish and mechanical after hours spent arguing with himself. Behind his drooping eyes his thoughts continued to churn and turn like a storm ravaged sea, and like so much flotsam, he drifted along at their mercy. His hand reached for the fridge door, and it was there in the empty space between his fingers and the metal handle that a small spark of light snapped into existence. And with that burst of static shock Ataru came to himself.

This whole business of pacing the apartment and fighting with himself was ridiculous and wasn't getting him anywhere. Hadn't he done enough of that all Summer? Exactly how much longer was he going to torment himself before actually making a move? Where had the fearless and resolute Ataru gone? Remembering the promise he made just one night ago, he looked back over his shoulder at the invitations. He should have called the moment he got home, before allowing any of these reservations to set in. What was he doing now besides wasting time? Speaking of which, what time was it now? Ataru consulted the clock in his Livingroom for an answer: 8:45 pm. Nearly nine. Everyone would be going to bed soon, and then it would be too late.

And if he didn't call her tonight...

Abruptly Ataru whirled and left the Livingroom. Nary a stray thought crossed his mind and his face was set with resolve as he dashed for the phone, which was still sitting on the floor in absence of a proper table. No more delays, no more arguing - call now or don't.

Unwavering in his decision to act Ataru lifted the receiver to his shoulder, fingers dancing over the number pad without a single twitch of nerves. The phone pulsed in his ear as it rang once, twice, then almost a third time when it was interrupted by the sound of someone picking up the other end. In those short seconds Ataru was sure the anxiety shaved off several years from his lifespan.

"Moroboshi residence." His mother's cheerful voice rang in his ear, and he nearly collapsed from relief. All that tension and his mother answers the phone? Well, actually that made sense. Why did he expect anything different? "Hello?" She prompted when nobody responded.

"Hey Mom," Ataru replied, having caught his breath. "It's me."

Silence. And then;

"Me who?" For a second time he almost collapsed at his mother's response. Who!?

"Your son!?" He growled into the receiver. Honestly who else would be calling her mom!? "Ataru!"

"Oh! I have a son?!" Mrs. Moroboshi gasped, then added dryly, "It's been so long since I've heard from you I must have forgotten."

"I've been busy!" Ataru asserted explosively. He'd completely overlooked the fact that his mom might also feel some kind of way about his lack of communication and hadn't come prepared with an argument for her. Being busy was the only excuse he could pull from his mind on such short notice.

"Too busy for your own mother, who sacrificed her best years to raise you?" Mrs. Moroboshi parried incredulously. Then she fell to lamenting, "Nobody ever tells you how thankless the life of a mother is! You give and give and what do you get in return? An ungrateful son who can't even be bothered to give his poor worried mother a call!"

"I'm sorry! I'm awful! I'll try to call more often!" Sometimes it was easier to just surrender than fight.

"You had better!"

"I will I will." Well, if nothing else, dealing with his mother had a somewhat soporific effect on his nerves. Enough that he was actually able to broach the subject of his call with more confidence. "Anyway, is Lum home?"

"You don't call your own mother in months and the first thing you do is ask to speak to someone else?" An angry bellow was his answer.

"Fine fine," Ataru acquiesced, forcing a bit of politeness into his voice. "How have you been? How's dad? Is life everything you hoped it would be now that I'm gone?" He spoke the last part grudgingly; she'd always made it very clear what a burden he'd been on the family, stretching their finances and bringing trouble to their door routinely. Even if he knew now some of it was stress talking, he still never appreciated the way she ragged on him at times.

"Oh it's so wonderful!"

To her confirmation he rolled his eyes.

"I never dreamed we would be empty-nesters! Now that it's just me and your father it's like we're newlyweds again!" The suggestive cadence in her voice had Ataru gagging.

"Ew, I don't want to-w-wait-" What did she just say? "-what do you mean now that it's just you and dad?"

Mrs. Moroboshi tutted loudly over the phone and Ataru felt a cold shiver creeping up the line of his back.

"Well I'm not surprised you have no idea what's been going on here. It's taken you this long to call - time doesn't stand still you know."

"Would you tell me what happened already!?" Ataru snapped as more ailments of anxiety began settling over him, dampening his brow and hastening the beat of his heart.

"I really shouldn't. It would serve you right to be kept in the dark." What began as stern criticism devolved into plaintive sighing, "Oh but I could never do such a thing, the love of a mother is boundless after all." Then she paused for effect before adding with emphasis, "Did you hear that? Boundless!"

"Yes I hear you!"

"And you had better not forget it!" Mrs. Moroboshi warned before taking a second to compose herself again. "Lum moved out, right after you did actually."

The phone nearly slipped from Ataru's hand.

Lum...moved out?

A mist of questions swirled through his mind, compounded by a feeling of dread that churned his stomach. Why on earth did she move? Where-

"W-where did she go?" One quavering question managed to leap forth.

"Back to her UFO I think."

Ah, some relief. Okay. So she just went to live on the ship, not back to her home planet. Fine, that was fine. That made sense. Hah, of course she went back to the ship, obviously.

Wait...actually no, that sucked! If he knew Lum she was still floating somewhere outside the atmosphere well out of reach and without any way for him to get in touch with her.

"Did she leave any contact?" Ataru asked despite knowing the answer. No way she had a phone or anything, not when she had access to technology leagues beyond their own. He'd never once seen her use any conventional earth devices by choice, and when she did she complained the entire time. Was it...was it too late? Had he waited too long? Regret sat heavy on his shoulders, weighing them down while he mentally cursed himself for being so shortsighted.

"No she didn't." Miss Moroboshi confirmed his fears. "It seemed like she was in a rush to leave."

Ataru leaned against the wall and slid to the floor where he sat in a crumpled heap of defeat. Of course Lum was in a rush to leave. He'd done exactly the same thing. Now, if he had to guess she probably made the decision out of anger. That idiot, didn't she realize this would happen if he tried contacting her?

"I still see her around town, so she must not be far. We run into each other at the store sometimes. And then we usually get tea together and catch up – it's so nice! Did you know she's employed now?" His mom babbled on, unaware or simply inconsiderate of her son's plight.

"Yeah I've seen the posters." Despite his ability to respond Ataru was mentally checked out from the conversation. Lum moved back to her ship, which was floating who knows where, with no way for him to contact her. And to make matters worse his mind regurgitated a frightful idea; what if she really was preparing to leave him and this was the first step to that end? But that just couldn't be possible!

"You know Ataru, it was pretty callous of you not to check in with her." Miss Moroboshi's curt reprimand cut through the haze enveloping Ataru's mind and had him sitting straight up at once in anger.

"How are you blaming me!?" He argued in his defense. "You just said she literally moved right after I did!" Even if he called her a day later, she would have already been gone. How was that his fault?

"And yet you haven't called until now?" Miss Moroboshi countered sternly. "Sounds like an excuse to me. In that regard you're so like your father." From there the subject of her ire flipped from son to father and she took to whingeing, "He's just content to sit around and let the world pass him by, he never strives for anything more! I always have to force him to take the initiative, what's even the point if I always have to-" Ataru broke in loudly.

"Okay well it's been nice-!" Oh but Mrs. Moroboshi would not be silenced that easily and she raised her voice all the higher to counter his interjection.

"Don't you dare try and hang up that phone!" Her warning blazed through the other end and Ataru nearly dropped the receiver. "I did not carry you for almost two decades for you to 'hi mom-bye mom' me! We are going to have a proper conversation, and then after that I am going to hand the phone to your father and you two can have a nice long chat! Got it!?"

Ataru wilted.

"Are you serious...?"

"So tell me about your job! What is your boss like?" Came the gleeful response - yes, she was quite serious. And Ataru, in light of the revelations he'd made over the Summer, couldn't hang up on her.

In preparation for what he knew would be a long, drawn out, boring conversation about his mundane and underwhelming existence, Ataru heaved a sigh and got as comfortable as was possible on the cold wooden hallway floor. If he knew his mother – and he did – there wasn't a single aspect of his life she wouldn't ask after. Everything from his job to his living situation would be on the table. And he would entertain her curiosity as a thank you for the many years she'd put up with him. Naturally though, to avoid any uncomfortable situations, he'd be forced to omit certain events, like his drunk sleepover at Yamagata's. He would have liked to avoid any discussion of his night at the Shirai's but of course she'd already heard about it and asked all the obvious questions he'd practiced answering in the privacy of his own mind (just in case she caught up to him that day in Tomobiki).

What Ataru found most unexpectedly difficult, though, was balancing the truth with the illusion he hoped to maintain. If his mother and Lum spoke with any frequency this phone call would get back to her, most likely before he even had a chance to reach out. It wouldn't do him any good to have his mom telling her about his newfound competence and how much money he was saving. At the same time, he didn't exactly want his mother meddling in his life based off some belief that he was doing horribly. So Ataru took the truth and twisted it just enough to satisfy both ends – he was working hard, pulling lots of night shifts and splitting his money between savings and satisfying the requirements for a basic standard of living. Hearing her son wasn't living as affluently as she hoped, Mrs. Moroboshi insisted on having his address so she might send him anything he was missing or needed. A tempting offer to be sure, but not one he was ready for. His mother having his address was far riskier than Shinobu having it. And the last thing he needed was Lum showing up unexpectedly at his place before he had a chance to smooth things over with her. An argument ensued of course, one he was only able to escape after pointing out how late it was and that he still had to talk with his father.

Between the two of them, speaking with his dad was much easier. Mr. Moroboshi was not a man of many words, and what all he did have to say revolved mostly around work and money. He asked simple questions, and Ataru answered them with equal simplicity. A few times he even found scraps of joy in realizing some aspects of his job were easier than his dad's. There was a lot of 'is that how they do it now?' and 'when I first started x, y, z'. And he was flabbergasted to know Ataru even joined his peers for outings after work (not often, he lied, lest that somehow make its way into Lum's ears too). Oddly enough, talking with his father like this generated a strong sense of pride within Ataru. For a long while he'd feared becoming just like his old man; working a horrible low wage job with a wife who did nothing but complain. Now being able to directly compare their lives he could finally put those fears to rest, for the most part. His job paid well, the work was entertaining and interesting, his coworkers were good people, his boss wasn't that intrusive, and now that he had a handle on his finances, money was finally growing in his account, however slowly. If nothing else, this was evidence he was, at the very least, headed in the right direction.

Somehow Ataru managed to get through both conversations despite his mind swimming with questions about Lum's unprecedented move. At times it was hard to pay attention, especially when either parent went off on one of their tangents about this or that. All things considered, Ataru found he didn't regret calling home, even if he would have preferred speaking to Lum. No such luck tonight. But that wasn't his fault, not this time, and it did help break through the uncertainty that had been blocking his progress up until this point.

After exchanging goodbyes Ataru dropped the receiver onto its holder and sat in pensive silence for a stretch of moments, just letting the news settle over him.That moron, he thought annoyedly, what the hell was she thinking? Moving out wasn't the issue, what bothered him was the fact that she left without saying a word.

Well, then again, who was the one who left without any form of contact first?

Okay. So maybe that was a bit mean spirited of him. But still, why hadn't anyone given him a heads up?

Oh, right. Nobody could reach him. Ataru left not a single breadcrumb for anyone to follow.

Fine! So it was his fault! It was entirely his fault and now he had to deal with the consequences!

So, what was he going to do about this?

"How do I get in touch with her?" For a second time his paranoid mind brought up the possibility that she didn't want to see him. Good thing he knew that was a load of crap. Leaving without a word wasn't really anything new for Lum, at least according to his selective memory, which never seemed to register his own contributions to these misunderstandings.

First was the time she had to renew her passport – she'd been cryptic as hell that whole week to the morning (it had nothing to do with his refusal to listen). And then there was the whole cow thing; she was seriously planning on just weathering that all by herself! If he hadn't demanded to know what was bothering her, she probably would have done something foolish like wait around a cow pasture for days - at least with this situation his memory was spot on. And how could he forget the whole Rupa debacle, that was just a big misunderstanding (his unrelenting pride and refusal to be direct in any way was certainly not to blame). Getting any information out of her was like pulling teeth. But never was she trying to hide anything from him, not on purpose. In fact, in each of those instances whenever he doubted her, Lum's devotion always put him to shame. She was faithful, she just sucked at communicating. What was this if not another example of it?

Besides, she didn't get to put him through years of emotional turmoil just to conveniently skip off to sulk or whatever in her ship the second his back was turned. He'd show that fool, she wasn't the only one who could be stubborn and possessive.

So again, how was he going to get in touch with her?

Ataru sat in silence as he poured over his limited options, trying to find any point of connection he could use. A difficult task considering they hardly walked in the same circles anymore. And he couldn't exactly ask his mom to call him the second she saw Lum, or bother Shinobu who at best saw her on rare occasions. All that would do is make him look desperate, then he'd never hear the end of it from her. So that left him with nothing! What a ridiculous problem! How the hell was he having this much trouble getting in touch with his own damn - wait a second!

"That's it!" Ataru shot up with a note of triumph that died almost instantly. Whatever elation came of his epiphany was soon swallowed up by a sour grimace. Oh, he found a solution alright. A terrible solution at that. "Shit. Of course." Naturally the most direct path would be the least appealing. But what could he do? If he wanted to see Lum again this was the surest way.

Dammit.

Ataru would never understand the point of sick time if people like his boss were going to fight it so vehemently. They were meant to be used and he'd been exceptional at coming in every single day, even when he was honestly sick, his only medicine being a mask and some strong tea. So he wanted to take one measly day off? So what? They were well ahead of their holiday deadlines, why fight him over a single day? The whole situation put Ataru in a poor mood, which, in some way, was a blessing as it distracted him from the miserable task at hand. After learning of Lum's move on Friday he realized the best way to contact her was through Ten, who she'd enrolled in Tomobiki Elementary School not far from their old high school. And since school for them let out in the late afternoon and he'd be working, Ataru had no choice but to take time off.

This better be worth it, he thought, navigating his old neighborhood in search of the Elementary School. Some time had passed since he even thought about the place much less visited, so it took a bit of searching to locate. In a rare instance of foresight Ataru left early to give himself a bit of leeway should he get too hopelessly lost or delayed because of the train. Fortunately, neither happened and he arrived with plenty of time to spare. The Elementary School looked like a ghost town with all the students locked away, leaving space for his memories to fill the playground with long gone visions of himself, Shinobu, and friends from back then. A few parents came to join his lonely vigil, some casting stares at this unfamiliar man, but none bothering to inquire why he was here. And Ataru, likewise, ignored them.

The clang of a bell interrupted his musing, marking the day's end, and almost immediately a river of students poured from the door. They clustered in groups or ran to their parents; some took to the playground where they'd await their caregivers for pickup. Ataru scanned the sea of children for any signs of green hair but found nothing. Afraid he might miss his one and only chance he approached a group of young girls who were huddled near the schoolyard gates.

"Ah, excuse me, do any of you know Ten?" He flashed them what he assumed was a disarming smile. "Small little green-haired kid?" Ataru lowered a hand below his knees, emphasizing Ten's short stature.

"Ew, are you his dad?" One of the girls balked as the others snickered and cowered, unsure what to make of this unknown old man, finding him a threat by his very nature as a strange adult yet disarmed by his naturally goofy expression.

"D-dad!?" Ataru was forced back by such an egregious accusation. "Listen here I am nobody's dad!" Never mind their age, he wasn't about to let these brats get away with basically calling him old! Any misgivings about his harmlessness were instantly dismissed with that outburst and in a flash the girls took off for the school grounds screaming. Ataru was left standing there, insulted and frustrated and keenly aware he was running out of time.

"Hitting on grade school kids now? That's low even for you."

Ataru knew that voice anywhere! He whirled around and sure enough there was Ten floating toward him with a disgusted frown. In that moment the relief of finding Lum's cousin overshadowed his implications.

"There you a-wait what the hell did you say!?" He snapped once the insinuation registered. "I'm not hitting on grade school kids I came here looking for you!"

Revulsion warped Ten's face.

"That's even worse!" He cried, inching away from Ataru.

"Where's your head at!?" Ataru's fist came down over Ten's head which had him spinning in place for a moment. "Listen I came here because-" In the middle of his explanation Ten had gathered himself, huffed, and turned in the opposite direction. "Hey! I'm talking to you!" Ataru was right on his trail.

"What do you even want?" Ten leered over his shoulder.

"Where do you live?"

Again he wheeled on Ataru to fix him with an accusing glare.

"So you are trying to hit on me!"

"I'm trying to get in touch with Lum you goon!" Ataru ground his teeth at yet another misunderstanding, his fists clenched at his side. Dammit to hell, he knew this was a terrible idea!

"Ohnow you're trying to get in touch?" Ten's arms folded and he stared imperiously down his nose at Ataru. The audacity! The bare-faced cheek of him! To come out of the woodwork, asking him where Lum was, as though he hadn't disappeared for a whole damn Summer without any word. "Where have you been the last like four months?"

Four...four months? Ataru's voice died in his throat as the scale of time hit him. Had it really been that long? No it couldn't be it-every day had been the same he-he didn't realize. He didn't mean for-no, don't think about it right now, he warned himself. Ten was like a wild animal, he couldn't risk showing any weakness. Shaking his head free of this terrible realization Ataru went back on the offensive.

"Working! Work is hard!" Well that was technically true. Working was hard, mundane, and ceaseless and every day melted together. Ten had no idea what it was like to lose yourself in those postage-stamp days. "Which isn't something you'd understand!"

"Believe it or not I do," Ten countered severely. "Lum's always working and she still finds time to play with me." He floated toward Ataru, his face set in a disapproving, disbelieving glower. "You're just a loser with no time management skills. Or any skills actually."

"You son of a-look," This was going nowhere and Ataru hadn't come all this way after being yelled at by his boss to be further admonished by a child. "I can't do anything about the past okay? I'm here now aren't I?" He took a breath, trying to calm his temper before continuing, "So are you going to help me out or not?" Much as it pained him Ataru offered the plea with great sincerity. Ten regarded him thoughtfully, but evidently wasn't in a mood to forgive such a grievous offense.

"I don't owe you anything." With a deprecatory flick of his hand at Ataru, Ten turned toward the sky, rising quickly above his head and well out of reach.

"Hey!" Ataru gaped, "Wait you jerk!"Shit! That little bastard! Was he really going to just leave like that!? He couldn't! "Ten!" A note of distress infiltrated his voice that couldn't be helped. His only chance at seeing Lum again was slipping away with every inch the boy climbed. Despite everything, no matter how desperately his heart pounded or how furiously he steamed he was powerless to bring Ten down from the sky. All these feelings mounted inside of him until they became too much to bear and collapsed into a void of hopelessness. Ataru's fists fell and his shoulders dropped. He was tired and numb. Defeated.

Hungry for one last look at the pitiful human known as Ataru, Ten glanced down, fully expecting to see him raging far below or swinging his fists in a comical display of fury. But he didn't see that. What he saw instead gave him pause.

Carefully he examined Ataru through a critical lens, searching for the lie in his despondent, listless eyes. And Ten was shocked to realize he was upset! Genuinely upset! Maybe even devastated! Rarely, if ever, had he seen Ataru look so utterly miserable. An uncomfortable knot grew in Ten's stomach, and he had to look away. He had half a mind to leave and wash his hands of this heartless idiot once and for all. What kept him in place was the thought of Lum, and the many nights he'd seen her staring wistfully out into the stars, dreaming of the day her darling would return and make good on his promise. If he didn't help, then he would be just as much at fault for her continued sorrow as that sulking halfwit below him. And that's not something a good boy does.

Ten sighed and scratched his head, fidgeting with indecision while Ataru watched from below. Until finally he threw his hands up and began a slow descent, muttering angrily to himself at being thrust unwillingly into this position. Ataru, for his part, felt a beat of hope rise in his chest as Ten drew closer. Wisely he kept his mouth shut, afraid that anything he said might drive the kid away.

"I don't owe you anything." Ten reiterated with a growl as he dug through his small bag, producing at last a pen and ripping a piece of paper from one of his schoolbooks. Without sparing Ataru a glance he scribbled something down and handed it to him. "But I do owe Lum." He added just to ensure there was no misunderstanding between them. Last thing Ten wanted was for Ataru to suspect he missed his old playmate and rival...even if that did factor into his decision at least a little bit.

Still carrying some suspicion Ataru glanced down at the scrap of paper he'd been handed, confused to see a normal looking phone number. Whose number was this?

"What's this?" he asked, pointing to it.

"It's Lum's number you doorknob!" Ten snapped, incensed that someone could be so dense.

Surprise took over Ataru's face.

"Since when does she have a phone?" Did she have one all this time? And yet she hadn't thought to leave her number anywhere? How inconsiderate and short sighted, he thought, ignoring the fact that he hadn't exactly left a way to be reached either.

"She needs it for work if you have to know." Ten snorted, arms folded as he went onto rant, "It was a pain in the ass and took forever to get it working. You know how hard it is to find adapters for such old technology?" He glared at Ataru as though he alone were responsible for earth's progress. But Ten was disappointed to realize that idiot wasn't even paying attention. He was just staring at the number with a fittingly dumb expression.

"Anyway that's her number." Ten floated slightly closer, well into Ataru's space, but got no reaction. He just kept staring at that number. How annoying! Ten's face flushed at the audacity of this loser to completely ignore him when he'd just gone out of his way to do him a solid. "You're weird as ever. I hope you don't call. Then maybe she'll go out with that nice guy from her job and forget all about you." He sneered, well aware that would catch Ataru's attention.

And indeed, it did. Ataru's head shot up and he locked eyes with Ten, who was giving him a sideward glance. Aha, he had the upper hand now, and oh how he enjoyed making his rival flounder.

"What guy?" Ataru pressed, inching closer.

"Don't worry about it." Turning his back to Ataru, and subsequently hiding the mischief scrawled on his face, Ten took up the journey home a second time. Ataru deserved to squirm a little after what he'd put Lum through. Working hard? Yeah right! "See ya loser."

Ataru snarled after him quietly. That little bastard. Probably made the whole thing up just to piss him off. Lum would never run off with another man, not seriously. Maybe to make him jealous but nothing more than that! Ten was just being an ass. It was obvious! Without...without a doubt.

Abandoning Ten and his false victory, Ataru turned back over the course he'd come, stuffing both the number and his fist into his pocket. Dealing with Ten was never simple, and often proved to be a test for Ataru's patience. Today was no different. But what did it matter, really, when he ultimately got what he wanted in the end? Thanks to that brat, Ataru was now one step closer to seeing Lum again. And that alone was worth the trouble.

I think my favorite thing to write are conversations between Ataru and Ten. I haven't published anything that I've written that features them, but omg their dynamic is so fun. And huzzah! Ataru finally has a way to reach Lum!