Love Hina Fan Fiction ❯ Legacy ❯ Chapter 13

With an angry jerk, the teacher slammed the phone back down on the cradle. The few colleagues in the teacher's lounge with him looked at him curiously. “Sorry,” he managed, inclining his head. Looking at the stack of papers on his desk, he couldn't even see them, his mind consumed with other issues. What do they mean, they won't pursue the matter any further?! he silently raged. Don't they care about the reputation of Todai?! To allow that animal to attend school there will ruin their standing!

 

“Sensei?” a voice interrupted his thoughts. Blinking, he found the class rep for his next class standing by his desk.

 

“Yes?” he asked curtly. The girl blinked at the tone.

 

“Sensei, the bell has rung.”

 

“And you came here to tell me that?” he asked her flatly. “This class will be self study. Tomorrow, I will be giving a pop test on the material from chapters eleven and twelve, so you better use the time to study!” he snapped, standing up. After carelessly raking the ungraded papers into his desk drawer, he locked it and grabbed his suit jacket. Seeing the girl still standing there, he glared at her. “Don't stand there like a drooling idiot, girl! Do as you're told!”

 

The girl ran from the room. Ignoring the disapproving looks of the other teachers, he donned his jacket, straightened his tie, and strode from the room. Silly twits like her are a waste of my time, he thought, nearly sneering at the students in the rooms he passed. No point in trying to teach those empty-headed losers anything anyway, the man told himself as he exited the school building and moved toward the small lot where the faculty parked. Only a few of the teachers had cars or bikes, most of them using the public transportation system.

 

Until recently, I did as well, he smiled, fishing a key from his pocket. But with my Maehara threatened by those perverts, freaks and thugs in that house, I have to be more mobile! Looking at the car before him, he nodded to himself. He had spent all his savings to get a used Toyota compact sedan. It was in good shape and cheap to operate, if not quite appropriate to his status as the mentor to a star pupil like Maehara. Climbing in, he cranked his car and moved out of the parking lot.

 

Pausing by the gate, he looked over at the field, where his prized student was having PE. He didn't immediately spot her, but was sure she was there. Taking a breath, he pulled out into traffic, on his way to see some people about their inappropriate attitude. He was still nervous behind the wheel, since he had had to get his license in order to drive. While he had managed, it had been embarrassing to have to sit through the classed with those loser punks and idiot adults. Still, for his Maehara, it was worth it.

 

Moving through Tokyo, he wended his way toward his destination with only a few wrong turns. During his return to the correct path from one of those wrong turns, he almost hit a pedestrian. Honking his horn angrily, he choked back the curses that sprang to mind as the old woman gave him a strange glance. What was with that expression on her face?! Doesn't she know not to walk in the street?! he thought angrily, a tire chirping as he accelerated past her. A metallic clang came from the rear quarter panel, but glancing in the rear-view didn't reveal anything. “Stupid old woman,” he muttered, hurrying onward.

 

-

 

Shinobu had never realized just how much fun being with Granny Hina could be. From the moment she had been whisked out of the Hinata, she had not had time to even think of the house. Hina had taken her places in Tokyo she had never known existed. Small shops, exclusive boutiques, offices in some of the most elite business high-rises, tiny mom-and-pop places tucked into blind alleys and marketplaces both familiar and not so familiar.

 

Everywhere they went, Hina had introduced her to the people she spoke with as her granddaughter Shinobu-chan. It had been embarrassing the first half-dozen times or so, but as the hours passed, she found herself more and more comfortable with it. Another thing the girl noticed was that Granny Hina seemed to know everyone. Most of them recognized Hina on sight, and the rest seemed to recall her when they spoke to her. Shinobu found herself wondering how Hina knew so many people so well.

 

About mid-morning, Hina winked at Shinobu and led her in the back door of a cake shop. Moving through the kitchen, she led the girl without err to the manager's office. She didn't bother knocking as she entered the office. Inside, a middle-aged man was talking on the phone. Hina smirked at him before terminating the call by pushing down the switch on the phone with her finger. The man had started to complain, but stopped when he saw who was there. Cackling evilly, she had informed him that it was a surprise raid and he better impress her.

 

In the next fifteen minutes, Shinobu had sampled nearly every treat in the shop, and been coaxed into giving her opinion on each. She had also found herself tasting several different kinds of tea and coffee with Hina, once more being prompted to give her opinions on them. Hina had then gone through the kitchen area, not missing a single centimeter of the working area, a non-stop commentary coming from her, both good and bad. A quick stop in the office - where she swiftly reviewed the ledgers - and she announced that the raid was over, and he had passed; barely. Giving him some sharp instructions, she had led Shinobu out through the front end and dining room and out onto the street.

 

When asked, the old woman had laughed and told her that she was the silent owner of the shop, and the middle-aged man was someone she had met when he was about Shinobu's age. She had gone on to say that he had become an expert pastry chef, but that if she didn't wind him up with periodic raids like that, he got lazy and complacent. Besides, she had giggled, it was fun to terrorize him; kept him young, she insisted.

 

The pair had been half-way to some appointment that Hina had when Shinobu had mentioned in passing that she wished she had a cell phone. Immediately, Granny Hina had changed direction, and ten minutes later, the pair entered an electronics store. Half an hour later, Shinobu was blinking at her new cell phone, a bag with the necessary accessories on her arm. At first, Shinobu had tried to get one of the less expensive ones, but Hina had summarily over-ridden her, stating that it was cheaper to pay more for good equipment from the very start.

 

The Motorola in her hand was the most capable unit the store had; and it had hundreds of phones. Hina had checked the phone out, punching keys furiously. Shinobu had found that her phone book now held the numbers of all the girls at the Hinata, the main and office lines to the Hinata, the tea shop phone number, Haruka's cell phone number, two phone numbers that claimed they were Kanako's and three that bore Hina's name. Shinobu knew she would have to read the manual to learn how to work all the features.

 

Hina had also somehow gotten the manager and assistant manager to wait on her and Shinobu, and had made a point of introducing Shinobu as her granddaughter. Before they left the store, Hina had spoken with the two for a moment, then made sure that they had memorized Shinobu's name. The pair had bowed deeply to the girl, thanking her for her patronage, the manager giving her his personal business card. Outside, Hina had smiled at her and told her that if anything broke, or was lost, or needed to be fixed, upgraded or swapped, all she had to do was call or come by that shop and it would be done, no questions asked.

 

To say that Shinobu was a bit confused was an understatement, but Hina had smiled, hugged her and told her that as her granddaughter, she needed to have reliable communication means close to hand. Besides which, laughed the old woman, every high school girl needed a cell phone, didn't they? Shinobu remembered that she had been the only one in her class without one; possibly the only one in her school without one. And it does make me feel better to know that I can call the others if I need them, no matter where I am, she thought, absently stroking the slim phone, which was clipped to her purse strap.

 

Of course, the next place Hina led her had been to a boutique, where she had helped the girl select a new purse - one with a pouch for the cell phone and a more utilitarian style. With that done, the pair went to the meeting of Hina's that they had originally been bound for. All the while, Hina engaged her in comfortable small talk, never once touching on school, the situation in the Hinata, or any weighty matter. It was like being with a close friend or loved one; which was, she reflected as she sat quietly in the office of some expensive-looking firm in a high-rise in downtown Tokyo while Hina spoke with the man behind the mahogany desk in a quiet voice, papers swapping back and forth from various folders that the man's secretary had brought in shortly after Hina arrived with Shinobu in tow.

 

Shinobu had wondered if she shouldn't wait in the lobby, but once more, Hina wouldn't hear of that. She introduced Shinobu to the man as her granddaughter, which made the man smile, and said that there was no need to bore the girl in the lobby. So, the two had spoken in soft tones while Shinobu tried to mind her own business by reading her phone's manual. It didn't take her long to understand the basics, and since Hina and the man were still talking, she moved into the advanced features. It surprised her to find that the phone could be used pretty much anywhere there was a cell phone tower, in addition to the camera, media player, texting capabilities, internet and wireless synchronization capability.

 

Her reading was interrupted by Hina stroking her short hair. Realizing that the meeting was over, she blushed, closing the manual and tucking it hastily into her new purse, bowing to the man as she apologized. He had waved it off, handing her a business card and telling her not to hesitate to call him if she needed his services. Looking at the executive-grade card, she found that he was an attorney. From the office and location, she surmised he was with a powerful, influential firm. Almost as if she could read her mind, Hina had told her that this was the Urashima family's private attorneys, and there would be no legal bill for anything she needed them to do for her.

 

“I'm hungry,” Hina said as the two rode down the elevator to street level. “Let's eat!” she grinned at Shinobu. The girl's stomach growled at the mention of food. Hina, of course, knew a place, and led Shinobu off again. The small domestic found that Granny's energy was highly contagious. She also found that she couldn't remember having a better time than she was then without Keitaro being with her. Smiling and happy, she nearly jogged along with Hina.

 

Just as they were about to cross a street, one of her bags slipped off her arm, and she had to stop to grab it back up. When she looked up, a car had ignored the pedestrian light and nearly clipped Hina. Gasping, she heard the car's driver honk the horn and jerk his car around Hina, nearly clipping the old woman as he did so. “Granny Hina!” screamed the young girl, dashing forward. Hina turned to smile at her, untouched.

 

“I'm fine, Shinobu-chan,” she grinned, hugging the girl. “Missed my by a mile!” cackled the old woman, “luckily for him,” she added in a conspiratorial whisper. “I think he'll learn his lesson,” she added mysteriously, tugging Shinobu free of the small crowd of gawkers. “I'm getting hungrier.”

 

-

 

A slight form slipped into the teacher's office, finding it empty as predicted. It took only an instant to find the right desk, and barely that long to bypass the lock on the drawers. With that done, it was just a matter of swiftly assessing what was there. Papers were scanned for any items of interest, folders opened and examined, and things put right back where they were. It took barely eight minutes for the slim intruder to finish looking through the desk. Locking it behind them, the figure considered the next move.

 

Nodding to themselves, they moved for the door. Just as they reached it, it opened. “Gomen,” began the teacher just entering the room, “what are you…?”

 

A hand closed over the teacher's mouth and nose, closing off the air as a fist crashed into the teacher's breadbasket, knocking the man out cold. Seizing the limp form around the waist, the smaller intruder pulled them into the room. A moment of searching, and the attacker found the instructor's ID card. With that information, the form put the teacher at his desk, arranging him as if he had fallen asleep at his desk. Hurrying out of the room, the intruder headed for the administration office.

 

Ducking into an unused classroom, the figure re-emerged moments later, pausing to adjust their tie and jacket. Moving through the halls, the figure reached the administration office and stepped inside. There was an office worker behind the desk, and the office manager in her cubical farther into the narrow, but long office. “Can I help you?” asked the clerk.

 

“Yes, I need to confirm some information on file for a student,” the man said.

 

“The student's name, sir?” asked the worker.

 

“Maehara Shinobu, third year class C,” supplied the man. A moment later, the clerk got up and moved deeper into the office area, opening a filing cabinet. Flipping through the files, the wonk came back a few moments later, empty handed, and spoke with the manager. The older woman got up, moved to the cabinet, flipped some files, went back to her cubical, and looked at some notes.

 

“You were looking for the student file on Maehara Shinobu?” she asked the man. He nodded. “You picked up that file a week ago, sensei,” the woman said. The man blinked.

 

“Gomen,” he said, scratching the back of his head, “I didn't see it when I checked my desk, so I thought I must have returned it. I'll check my desk again,” he apologized. The office manager hummed.

 

“You should return it as soon as you find it, sir,” she said. “We're not supposed to let those files out of the office, you know,” she added.

 

“I know, and I appreciate you allowing me to do so,” the man bowed to the woman. “I'll go find that folder right now,” he promised, hurrying off.

 

Once outside the office, the man turned and moved back to the empty classroom. Minutes later, a student stepped out, smoothing their uniform skirt. They had barely gotten ten steps down the hall when a girl rounded the corner. “Maehara! There you are!” the girl said, motioning to the student. “Hurry up! The teacher is looking for you!”

 

“Sorry!” the girl exclaimed, hurrying after the other student. “I was called to the office,” she explained. Her fellow student offered her a smile.

 

“Must be about your university selection,” the girl said, the two hurrying through the halls. “You still only applying to Tokyo University?”

 

“Of course,” said Maehara. “There is no point applying anywhere else,” she added.

 

“Only you would be so certain of getting in,” sighed the other girl enviously.

 

“Akiko,” said Maehara, “you should know by now that you are only as limited as you allow yourself to be limited,” lectured the girl.

 

“I know, I know,” Akiko waved her hands. “Um, can you help me study for finals?” asked the girl. Maehara nodded.

 

“Sure, Akiko,” the girl said. “Come by the Hinata this weekend; we'll get my sempais to help us,” Maehara said, the two entering the classroom.

 

“Well, there you are, Maehara,” said the instructor, smiling at the girl. “Get your apron on,” she instructed. “Then, show the class how to make your special lasagna.”

 

“Yes, ma'am,” the girl said, reaching for her apron and hair cloth. It would be a long day, the girl knew.

 

-

 

“Take your hands off me!” demanded the teacher as two security guards escorted him outside the gate of Todai.

 

“You have been asked to leave the campus, sir,” one of the security guards repeated once more. “Please do so.”

 

“I don't need you goons dragging me around!” he yelled back. Several Todai students watched curiously. It wasn't that common that a person got escorted off the grounds from the administration wing, after all. Straightening his tie and jacket, the man stalked off, muttering and waving his hands. The two security personnel returned to their duties, and the knot of students broke up.

 

“Something wrong, Narusegawa?” asked one of the students of his classmate.

 

“Wha…?” the brunette wondered, caught off guard, “oh, no, nothing. That guy just looked vaguely familiar, that's all,” shrugged the girl. “Hey, did you happen to get the notes on that problem from professor Akagi's physics class the other day?” asked the woman, the two moving toward their next class.

 

“Yeah, I did,” the man said, pulling out a notebook, “but I couldn't get the test model to work right.”

 

“My model worked, but I think I was using the wrong formula to calculate the force co-efficient in the test problem,” Naru said. “Su got it to work, but she used a weird method I couldn't follow at all,” she laughed weakly. Then that maniac went on to make an X-ray gun out of the microwave, a stereo and some parts from her latest Mecha-Tama unit!

 

Hearing the brunette sigh, her classmate patted her shoulder. “You know, Narusegawa,” he said, “I think I would like to meet this Su you keep talking about,” he said casually.

 

“I don't think that is a good idea,” Naru said. “She can play a little…rough.”

 

“Didn't you say she was still in high school?” wondered the man. Naru nodded. “Well, how rough can she play, then? She isn't a martial artist, is she?” he wondered.

 

“I wish!” Naru chuckled. I can handle martial artists ok, but not that lunatic!

 

“So, introduce me sometime, hmm?”

 

“On your head be it,” Naru grinned. “But tell me, is your life insurance paid up?”

 

“Naru-chan!” came a call from the right of the pair. Naru's eyes narrowed. “Hey, wait up!” the new-comer urged, jogging over to them.

 

“What do you want, Akiyami?” asked Naru evenly.

 

“Me and the crew were getting together again this weekend. What say you and your friend Kitsune come with?” he suggested.

 

“Can't. Sorry,” said Naru curtly. The man blinked at her tone.

 

“What's wrong, Naru?” he asked her, confused.

 

“Nothing, Akiyami,” Naru said. “Just busy.”

 

-

 

The sun was setting as Shinobu and Hina sat on a park bench, far on the outskirts of Tokyo, eating some ice cream cones. Shinobu was tired, but much happier and far more relaxed than she had been in weeks. Hina was just as energetic as she had been that morning. Shinobu wondered if she would be as full of life at Hina's age as Hina was.

 

“So, how did you like the day, Shinobu-chan?” asked Hina, finishing her ice cream cone.

 

“It was a lot of fun,” Shinobu said. “I never knew you knew so many people and so many places!” she exclaimed between licks.

 

Hina laughed easily. “My family has been here a long, long time,” she said. “The whole of Tokyo is practically the work of my family,” added the woman.

 

Shinobu considered that. She knew the history now, and looking at it from that standpoint, it was pretty clear that the Urashima family had been the foundation that had given rise to the modern capital. Family, Shinobu mused, I think that is the core of this mess.

 

“What are you thinking, Shinobu-chan?” asked the old woman next to her, jogging her free of her thoughts. “Thinking of the situation at the Hinata?” predicted Hina. Shinobu nodded. “So, what about it?” asked Hina.

 

“I…” Shinobu stopped, choosing her words.

 

“What is it you want, Shinobu-chan?” Hina pressed.

 

“I want it to be like it was before,” said Shinobu, “but not exactly like it was,” added the girl, thinking of the attacks on Keitaro and the outbursts of rage and irrational jealous competition.

 

“Not a bad wish,” Hina agreed.

 

“I grew up in a home that wasn't much like a home,” Shinobu said. Hina reached over and squeezed Shinobu's free hand. She knew all too well what Shinobu's home life had been like before she moved into the Hinata. “Mom and Dad were always fighting over things, the restaurant was in trouble, and I was having trouble at school with bullies and grades. I think that Mom and Dad loved me, but they couldn't get along with each other, so they were gone more often than not, which left me alone a lot of the time as a result.”

 

Shinobu's tone was analytical and not the least bit stressed as she talked about her previous home. “When they sold the restaurant and split up, I was so stressed about being forced to move with one or the other, but then, you stepped in,” she smiled at Hina.

 

“I tend to do that, you know,” grinned Hina playfully. Shinobu giggled.

 

“Before I knew it, I had real friends and sempais like Motoko-sempai and Naru-sempai and Kitsune-sempai to help me, and Su was suddenly always in class with me, so the bullies ran away,” Shinobu snickered. It was often hard to say which was more problematic: bullies or Su.

 

“When Keitaro arrived to take over management,” Shinobu stopped, blushing deeply. Hina laughed softly.

 

“You found your knight in shining armor,” she supplied for Shinobu. “Though he turned out to be an odd sort of knight, eh?” Shinobu nodded mutely. Minutes went by before Shinobu spoke again.

 

“But even so,” she said softly, ice cream forgotten as she watched the sun set, “these past five years has been so good. It was like I finally had a family. One that didn't avoid each other, one that was always there for me and each other.”

 

“And now, this old bit of forgotten history comes along and threatens to wreck it all,” Hina interjected.

 

“Yes,” Shinobu sighed. “I feel like I'm losing my family.”

 

“I see. That is not a good feeling, is it?” asked the old woman rhetorically. Shinobu shook her head.

 

“I…I don't care if I can't marry him, Granny!” she exclaimed. “Just as long as we can be a family like before, it's fine however it plays out!”

 

“Is it?” asked Hina.

 

“Yes,” Shinobu said.

 

“You would step aside once more for another of the girls?” Hina asked her.

 

“If it would keep us together and make Keitaro happy, yes!” the young girl said fervently. “All that really matters is that he's happy and we're together,” she repeated.

 

“Do you want to step aside?” Hina asked her. Shinobu shook her head. “Didn't think so,” Hina smiled, patting her head.

 

“But, what else can I do?” Shinobu wondered. Hina hummed, hugging the girl comfortingly.

 

“You could always compromise,” suggested Hina. Shinobu frowned.

 

“Isn't that the same as…?”

 

“No,” corrected Hina. “Compromise is not the same as stepping aside. Compromise is getting what you want while everyone else gets what they need.”

 

-

 

Motoko wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “What else must be done, nee-san?” she asked her elder sister. The two Aoyama warriors were looking at the gleaming, polished floor of the hallway on the second floor of the Hinata. They had washed the wood, then waxed it, as the floor needed it and Shinobu had been planning to do that when she had a moment.

 

“I believe we are expected in the kitchen to help prepare supper,” Tsuruko said, breathing deeply. “Does Shinobu-chan do this sort of thing often?” wondered the older swordswoman.

 

“Usually, Keitaro does the floors and windows and repairs,” Motoko said, “but if she has a moment to spare, Shinobu spends it working beside him,” supplied the younger sister.

 

“I begin to see how she has such a healthy and toned body,” Tsuruko said.

 

“Yes,” agreed Motoko, “I had not previously understood how hard she works.”

 

“I think that her daily work cycles are more strenuous than our daily drills and practices,” Tsuruko replied, the two gathering the supplies they had used and moving down the immaculate hallway toward the small utility room where the supplies were kept. Swiftly replacing the polishing rags, wax pail and assorted gear, the pair stopped by the bathroom to wash off their hands, arms and faces.

 

The two had volunteered to perform Shinobu's workload, little understanding what they were in for. Within an hour of volunteering, they had had to take a break to change out of their hakamas and gi outfits into tee shirts and shorts to keep from ruining their traditional dress. Motoko and Tsuruko had also tied back their long hair and tucked it into bandanas to keep the silky raven locks from interfering with their work. Both sisters were looking forward to a long soak in the hot spring when the day was done.

 

Moving down the steps, they could smell supper already being prepared. “Could Shinobu be back already?” murmured Motoko, sniffing the air.

 

“I doubt it,” Tsuruko sighed softly, “Hina-sama was clear about being out all day, was she not?”

 

“Punishment, then,” groaned Motoko mournfully. Tsuruko offered her sister a wry smile and nod.

 

“There you two are,” came the sunny voice of Missus Otohime. She was in the kitchen, humming a little to herself, as she fixed dinner. “Don't be shy, girls! Plenty for all of us to do!” chirped the mother. Tsuruko and Motoko glanced at each other.

 

“Yes, Otohime-san,” Tsuruko replied for both of them. “What are we to do?”

 

“Could one of you be a dear and cut the vegetables and meat while the other gives me a hand with the dessert?” directed the temporary head of the kitchen.

 

“Of course,” Motoko replied politely, the two sisters not even looking at each other as they automatically paired off, Motoko picking up the kitchen knife and beginning to carefully slice the vegetables before moving to the meat. Tsuruko stepped to the side of Mutsumi's mother, who immediately handed her a bowl with some ingredients in it.

 

“Stir this until it's ready while I start on the second layer,” directed the lead. Tsuruko nodded.

 

“And it is ready when it is evenly mixed?” she guessed. She had no experience with hand-made cakes; she had always gotten hers at a cake shop. Even before her marriage, there had been little practice in the arts of the kitchen.

 

“It is ready when the mix is smooth and creamy,” corrected her temporary boss, smiling. “Use your wrist a little more,” she added, glancing at Tsuruko's beating style. “That is a whisk you are holding, not a sword, dear.”

 

“Hai,” Tsuruko said, controlling her blush as best she could.

 

“And Motoko-chan,” the head cook turned her attention to the younger sister, “while you are very accurate with your cuts, you are wasting a lot of motion. Here, like this,” she instructed, taking the knife and demonstrating a move Motoko had seen thousands of time from Shinobu. The knife practically purred through the vegetables, each cut clean, swift and precise. “Hold the knife like this, and tuck your fingers under so they slide along the side of the blade while you rock the blade. See?” she said, handing the knife back to Motoko.

 

“I think so,” Motoko said, shifting her grip on the handle of the knife. Her entire life, she had handled blades, and though her sole focus had been on swordsmanship, her body was, by generation after generation of selective breeding, athletic, strong and capable. Watching the girl adapt after a literally twenty-second lesson told Mutsumi's mother a lot about the Aoyama.

 

With that under control, she could turn her attention to the work before her. Selecting a fresh bowl, she began to work on her next project. Pulling ingredients from the cupboard and refrigerator, she chatted up the two Aoyama girls. “This kitchen is incredibly well-stocked,” she casually observed.

 

“Shinobu and Keitaro review lists weekly,” Motoko shared, “and shop accordingly.”

 

“Keitaro shops for the food?”

 

“I do not think so, so much as Shinobu keeps a list of what she has used or needs, and the two of them go shopping for the items together. Occasionally, Naru or myself go with her, if Keitaro is not available,” Motoko clarified.

 

“I see,” replied the mother. “She certainly carries a large load here, doesn't she? Shinobu-chan, I mean,” continued the older Otohime woman rhetorically.

 

“She does,” agreed Tsuruko. There is nothing I can say in defense of myself or the others in this area, she thought uncomfortably.

 

“I wonder if…” whatever the woman had been planning to say was lost when the front door slammed open and a familiar shout echoed through the house.

 

“I'm home! What's for supper, Shinobu?”

 

This was followed by a maniacal cackle as tanned and blonde blur flashed past the kitchen, trailing a high school uniform. “Amalla!” called out Su, “check out what I made in school!” the girl bragged eagerly.

 

“Kaolla, the floor was waxed!” yelled back Motoko, but she was too late, as they heard a crash from upstairs.

 

“Slippery!” laughed Kaolla. “Fun!” giggled the girl. Motoko sighed, shaking her head.

 

“Such an energetic girl!” laughed Mutsumi's mother delightedly.

 

“Too energetic at times,” Motoko murmured, knife flashing in her hand.

 

“Hey, that smells good,” came a new voice from the front door.

 

“Welcome home, Kitsune,” Motoko said politely. “How was the tea shop?”

 

“Average, I'd say,” Kitsune shrugged, moving into the dining room.

 

“Kitsune-chan, will you set the table for us?” the oldest woman currently in the Hinata pressed the fox girl into service.

 

“Sure,” sighed Kitsune, moving to the hutch to collect her first load of dishes. “Shinobu and Granny not back yet?”

 

“Need you ask?” replied Tsuruko. “Is this ready?” she asked Missus Otohime. Nodding, the cheerful woman showed her how to pour it into a pan, demonstrating by pouring her bowl into a second pan. Both went into the oven.

 

“Speaking of Urashimas,” Kitsune said, glancing around, “anyone seen Kanako recently?”