It was right at the end of March that I decided there was no such thing as coincidence anymore, if there ever had been. From finding the strata-orb to being affected by it to suddenly moving to Japan to ending up in the same school as two others like me... the long and the short was, when it came to being an armor-bearer, the word 'coincidence' got erased right out of the dictionary. 

So naturally it wasn't coincidence that they picked that particular day to return the suitcase I'd loaned 'em again. If it hadn't been that, it would have been something else that brought them to the apartment half an hour before Mokei-san came knocking.

It was Sunday, the last Sunday in March; exams were starting the next day and I was sitting at my desk, reviewing my kanji. Japanese was the only subject I was at all leery of my ability to pass, and that was a very strange new feeling for me. I was alone, of course; my mother had come home on Tuesday and left again on Monday, and the time in-between had not been entirely pleasant. Predictably.

...Well, I had predicted it would be unpleasant when she got home, but I hadn't guessed quite how it would shape up. I'd assumed she'd be kinda quiet and moody, but she surprised me by coming in all bubbly-cheerful, like usual, and suggesting about a million 'fun things' we ought to do before she left again. I think Mom was on a trip of a new sort for her- a guilt trip- and her reaction to it was to try and shower me with attention. It didn't work. I wasn't too happy with her in the first place, and I didn't want that kind of attention anyway. I mean, really: you fight with your spouse for a month straight, decide to get a divorce in a span of maybe two minutes, then jauntily grab a new assignment and head out of the country for almost three weeks, knowing damned well your spouse is off to America and ain't coming back... Kid? What kid? Oh that one, well, his friends from school took care of him while he was sick, so why should you bother to do anything motherly- especially when you haven't got everything you need for your expose`. Insecurities? Worries? Hurt feelings? Loneliness? Aftershock from all the fighting? Why, no- why would there be?

I'd said it for years: she paid attention to me when she had nothing else better to do, and the rest of the time I was ranked somewhere between a box tucked up in somebody's attic and an annoying insect that needed to be shooed away. And I'd always denied it to myself, hoped it would change, because when she did bother to spend quality time with me, we both enjoyed it a lot. But not this time; I wasn't having it, not anymore. If she'd put some major project on hold to spend time with me- and forget doing 'something cool' together, all I really wanted was a chance to talk and maybe be taken seriously for once in my life- I think I could've forgiven her almost anything. But I wasn't about to let her bribe me with some charitable donation of leftover, nothin'-better-to-do, go-out-and-play time. Especially since it was mostly about her feeling guilty. I told her straight out that I knew her suggestions weren't sincere, that she was just trying to salve her conscience, and that I wasn't in a mood to do anything fun with anyone, seeing how my family just got metaphorically trainwrecked and I was still trying to accept the idea. She got not too happy with me in return, which kinda proved my point. If she really wasn't feeling guilty, like she claimed, she wouldn't have gotten so defensive about it. 

Anyway, back to the point, which is that Mom took off again on Monday and had been gone all week. I had spent most of my free time reviewing the things I felt I needed to know for the spring exams, to keep my mind busy, and it did that, all right. I have a pretty good head for shape-recognition, but trying to cram a couple-hundred similarly-shaped squiggles into my memory was a real challenge and after a while all the little shapes started dancing before my eyes. To be fair, the sound-based systems were not too tough, but whoever decided each shape should stand for a different word must've been smoking opium, if not something worse.

And don't even get me started on writing kanji. Get a curve wrong or a line not long enough and all of a sudden your 'good morning' is a 'pig foot' or something. 

I was deep in the mystery of how to write 'cherry blossom festival' correctly, since we were in the middle of that, when I heard the knock on the door and put down my pencil with a sigh of sheer relief. I got up, stretched for a second, then hurried down the hall and opened the door- and grinned when I saw who was standing there. 

"Hullo," Sage said amiably; "we thought it was time we brought this back." He gestured at my suitcase, which was sitting between him and Ryo.

"It's homesick," Ryo added, and I laughed. 

"It likes to travel, but it always comes home," I joked. "C'mon in, guys." I stepped back and swung the door open. Sage stepped through first, pulling the suitcase behind him, and Ryo followed. I closed the door, then played host, ignoring their automatic declines of something to eat or drink. In Japan, I had learned, it's courtesy to politely refuse the first few offers of hospitality; you have to issue three or four invitations before your guest will accept, usually with a show of reluctance. I tended to skip the interim steps and assume 'no thanks' meant 'yes, please'...especially when it was a little after lunchtime. And especially when I had a fresh batch of Crispy Treats sitting in the kitchen; I had planned to bring a few to school the next day, since Ryo was so wild about 'em. Sage, who didn't care as much for sweet stuff, got rice crackers and pretzels. The way they tucked in made it clear I'd been right to insist, so I added some quick sandwiches and a cup of carrot and celery sticks to the increasingly-crowded coffee table. 

I have never understood why anyone would willingly eat celery, but I seem to be in the minority on that.

"What're you doing inside on such a nice day?" Ryo asked, munching a crispy square. "Thought you'd be down in the garden or something."

"Kanji," I told him, and complained about that for a few minutes, ending with, "I think I'm going to fail that exam."

"Probably the teacher will take into consideration that you never had the chance to learn it until this year," Sage consoled me. "Try talking to her about it, anyway."

"I'll try, but exceptions aren't the rule, are they?" I asked ruefully.

"I suppose not..." Sage shook his head.

"Speaking of sensei, how'd your first lesson go yesterday?" I asked, changing the subject, and he smiled. 

"It was interesting. Sensei Jiro- he told me to call him that, since Kigan is too confusing, with two of them- he wasn't strong enough to duel me himself yesterday, so he had me fighting the air. I'm not used to that," he added as I grinned. "I've always had a visible opponent before- that, or just drilled. You know, using the same maneuver until you get used to it."

"Fighting the air," I mused, "that's nice and descriptive."

"He's not supposed to be fighting air, he's supposed to be fighting the enemy in his imagination," Ryo explained. 

"Oh, like a virtual-reality game. Or an invisible man." I considered Sage for a moment, then asked, "What's he like?"

"I'm not sure if I like him or not," my friend replied thoughtfully, pushing a hank of golden hair from his forehead. "Certainly not as much as this one-" with a nod at Ryo, who smiled. "He's...I don't know. My first impression was someone pleasant; my second was of someone very strange, with odd ways. I think you call it cryptic. He spent some time questioning me about what I know and had me demonstrate most of it, but he never did say just what he was going to teach me, or how. I mean, no-datchi swordwork, yes, but...he doesn't seem to like explaining. He's more knowledgable of swordwork than I'd expected a non-weapons trainer to be, too."

"Kinda has to be, to fill in for his brother if he needs to," Ryo pointed out quietly.

"And he's not really supposed to explain, though, is he? Thought it was all about, they tell you what to do and you do it, no reasons required."

"True. And also true. I suppose someone has spoiled me," Sage remarked with a sly look, and Ryo and I both laughed. 

"Both of us," I asserted. "You got so used to explaining stuff to me that now you're used to it."

"Hmm." Sage helped himself to a sandwich. "Anyway, I think I'll be able to learn from him, though perhaps not as much as from his brother."

Ryo frowned and I nodded. They had told me the whole story of how Ryo's sensei, Daisuke Kigan, had refused to teach Sage swordwork since he was a foreigner and it was 'untraditional'. But Daisuke's younger brother, who wasn't well, had decided to leave the dojo, and he had agreed to teach Sage- quietly, so that his brother wouldn't get wind of it and forbid it. Apparently, as the elder, Daisuke could do that, even if Jiro wasn't working for him anymore. That, Ryo had explained, was a matter of family honor; it was pretty unusual for a younger brother to subvert an elder brother's wishes like that. Jiro, we concluded, either felt very strongly that his brother was wrong, or saw something rather remarkable in Sage's potential. Or, just as likely, both.

"So...do you know what's wrong with him, why he's not well?"

Sage merely shook his head, frowning around the sandwich. 

"He doesn't say, and it would be impolite to ask," Ryo told me. 

I looked at Sage. "You wanna heal him, don't you?" 

"If I can."

We were all three silent after that soft remark, feeling the implications of it. Healing Jiro would mean revealing the Halo armor, at the very least, and there was no guarantee Sage would be able to do the job anyway. He still didn't know the limits of the power. Healing me of a fairly common illness had left him very tired; healing himself had been worse. Rather more to the point, though, he might need to use those energies against the Dynasty, in which case using them on his sensei would be not a very good idea. None of us were going to use the word 'waste', but 'conserve' was kinda hanging in my head.

But what if the man got too sick to teach, or died of his illness before he could teach Sage anything very useful? 

"Let's not borrow trouble," I suggested after a while, and grabbed a Crispy Treat. "He's at least well enough to teach, if not energetic enough to run around, and with you as his student, he'll have help nearby if he should need it- even if he doesn't know it."

Sage's expression brightened and Ryo thumped my shoulder with gentle approval. "Practical."

"Well, I try to be."

"You're better at it than I am. You're logical- you'd do great on the debate team, I bet."

"I'll pass, thanks." The idea didn't appeal to me at all. I like discussing theories and possibilities, but arguing someone into a corner and making them accept my view isn't really my way. At least, not unless they're being a total ignoramus and deliberately closing their mind to other views. Debating, to my mind, was more about right-wrong, black-white; I much preferred shades of gray. 

"Speaking of teams, I didn't see you at the field yesterday," Sage said suddenly. I blinked at him. 

"The field...?"

"Yes, for the soccer game."

"Game?" I repeated in shock. "What do you- the sports teams had only had their tryouts on Monday, they can't be having games already!"

Sage and Ryo looked at each other over the coffee table, then at me. "Why not?" Ryo asked.

"Well it- it's too soon, you've hardly had any time to practice...you mean, you did have a game?"

Sage tsked. "After all that buzz in the halls all week about how Sanada-san, and incidentally the rest of the soccer team, were going to obliterate-"

"Oh, stop that." Ryo nudged Sage, color rising into his cheeks. "It's true we haven't had a lot of practice yet," he went on as I stared at them in dismay. "But neither had the other team. So it was fair. Though 'obliterating' isn't exactly what happened."

"And I missed it!" I put my chin in my hands and sulked briefly. 

"I wondered why I didn't see you," Sage said mildly. "I looked in the library, but I didn't see you there, either."

"I was in there," I sighed. "In the stacks, not at the table."

"Oh. Well, I don't think I'm going to be allowed to give you a play-by-play-"

"Only if you're objective," Ryo snorted, and Sage chuckled. 

"That I'm not. But someone did extremely well, and I was not the only one who thought so."

"Ah, not-so-fleeting fame," I observed, trying to shake off my disappointment. Chalk it up to poor communication and erroneous expectations and make a note for next time.

"I'd rather it was fleeting," Ryo remarked. "It'd be less awkward."

"Awkward? Oh, the fans are gathering, are they?" I asked, cynically amused at the thought. "Wonder how many of 'em are gonna start eating in the halls like their idol. Could be we'll need to find a new, more private place to sit, otherwise you might get too busy to eat..."

Ryo gave me a rather sour, very red-faced look. "You're going to be pestered too, my friend," he observed, emphasizing the last two words.

"Well all the more reason to find a more private spot, don'tcha think?"

"And deprive the school of its foremost hero? Surely you can't be serious, Rowen," Sage observed in that deadpan way of his, and set Ryo sputtering in embarrassment. 

"Don't worry, buddy, we'll protect you from the crowds of cooing girls and chattering boys." I put my hand on his arm and he gave me a look that would melt rubber. Not being made of rubber, I wasn't much affected. "Maybe a disguise..."

"Ha. And me hanging out with two of the most easily-recognized kids in the school?" Ryo tousled my hair, and not as gently as he usually did. I ducked away and scooted closer to the sofa, out of his reach.

"True, we'd all have to wear disguises," Sage said gravely, trying hard not to smile. 

"You're right. Hm, wonder if the principal could be persuaded to spring for some bodyguards. Heck, before you know it, you could have an entourage-" I caught a look at the expression on Ryo's face and immediately shut my mouth. I couldn't really put my finger on it, but he seemed more depressed than annoyed or embarrassed and that wasn't good. "Hey...just teasing," I offered after a moment.

Ryo looked down. "I almost didn't..."

Didn't? He had to know I was teasing, surely. "Didn't-?" I asked cautiously.

"Soccer. This time."

Sage, who had just picked up another celery stick, froze as he was about to bite into it. I blinked at Ryo. "You almost didn't go out for soccer? Because... of all the fuss?"

"Well, that." Ryo threaded his fingers into the carpet and pulled upward, letting the fibers slide free. "I never liked it. But I like it even less when you call me 'hero' or something. I'm not. I'm your friend."

"You're both," I said simply, taken aback, and Ryo turned his face away from me. "Don't, Ryo, it's true- you are my friend, but you're also someone I admire a lot. Part of that has to do with you bein' a great athlete, but that's certainly not the only reason." 

His shoulders loosened a little and he nodded, his eyes half-shut. Sage put down his celery and reached across the coffee-table to brush his hand across Ryo's hair in an amazingly affectionate gesture.

"Niichan..."

I wondered what that meant, but it didn't seem the time to ask.

"I know. I never got into it to be popular, I just wanted to have fun. And now- I don't know. I still like the practice and the games, but...I don't like what goes with it. And- you two- if you ever..." Ryo shook his head wearily. "I need my friends. I need you to treat me like an ordinary person, 'cause that's what I am."

I slid back beside him and laid my hand on his back as Sage sighed. 

"Ryo, I dunno that anyone's ever all that ordinary, but I do see what you mean," I said slowly. "In fact, to be honest, I'm kinda proud of you for insisting that you are ordinary. 'Cause if you ever started saying you were special, I'd know it'd all gone to your head and made you arrogant- and then I wouldn't want to be your friend anymore." I paused as he smiled slightly, then added, "Didn't mean to bring you down- I'm not really making fun of you, y'know, but of all the kids who think you're the greatest thing since rice-balls during the soccer season and forget your name when it isn't. Reminds me how I used to be all popular at exam-times and avoided like the plague the rest of the year. People are fickle that way. But you can trust me when I say I wouldn't ever do that to you." I felt him relax even more, and then he put his head down on my shoulder for a moment.

"Thanks, Rowen. That was good to hear. Maybe I overreacted..."

"I agree," Sage said quietly. "I can't ever think of you as ordinary, but I do know you're human, with all that implies. ...Does that help?"

Ryo nodded and summoned a smile. "I'd prefer to talk about something different, though."

I made a mental note to the effect that he wasn't as willing to take teasing as he had been, and wondered what was behind that. 

"I guess I'm still kind of stressed about the sensei." He almost seemed to be answering my thought. "It's made me...I dunno, kind of disillusioned about people. You think you know someone, you...admire them, and then they pull something like that on you." He shrugged, then glanced at me. "Not as stressful as you've had it, though, hm? Things okay?"

I knew he meant 'things between you and your parents'. Strictly speaking it wasn't a polite question, but it was one I didn't mind answering. "I know how that is... Yeah, Mom's still off wherever and I still haven't heard a thing from Dad. If I didn't know his plane got there safely, I might be a bit worried." 

"So no change," Sage observed, and I nodded. "Lonely?"

At that, I hesitated. I did get lonely at night, though the past week had been a lot easier in that regard than the one before it. I had gotten sort of used to having them around while I was sick- well, recovering- and being alone had been a little depressing. But I knew if I admitted it, they'd suggest I come stay with them while Mom was away. The offer was tempting, as a matter of fact, but there were a few little details that stopped me from accepting- not the least of them being Byakuen, Ryo's tiger. He and I had not hit it off on our first meeting. "A little bit," I admitted at last, rubbing my temple. "It would be nice if you guys were on the Internet, or at least on the phone..."

Ryo shook his head. "Not for another ten or fifteen years, probably."

"If that," Sage murmured. "All the trees."

"Ah, yeah, you don't get very good reception up there, would you?" I shrugged again and grabbed a Crispy. "Well..." 

"You know you're always welcome," Ryo said simply, touching my arm lightly, and I smiled despite a sudden wistful feeling. Maybe I would go up and stay a night or two. 

"Your 'friend' wouldn't mind?" I asked.

"Of course I wouldn't," Sage teased. I twisted around, grabbed a pillow off the sofa, and tried to whack him one. 

"Not you, baka, the other friend, the four-legged one!" 

Sage fended me off with surprising agility, laughing, and then suddenly my hands were empty as Ryo plucked the pillow away from me. "Oho, is it a duel?" he asked, grinning and holding it out of my reach. I decided I wasn't going to take that sitting down and a full-fledged rough-and-tumble was just getting into gear when there was a knock on the door that startled us all into silence. "Your mother?" Ryo murmured, glancing uneasily at me.

"She wouldn't knock, she'd just walk right in," I responded softly, and untangled myself to go open the door as the guys took more decorous seats on the sofa instead of the carpet. The very picture of propriety, I thought with amusement as I twisted the knob. And looked into the gravely serious face of Mokei-san, the landlord. Uh-oh... did we make too much noise? "Ah, good afternoon, sir-" I tried to make a graceful bow, something I still wasn't as good at as I'd like to be. 

"Young Hashiba." Mokei bowed back, his expression softening. "I have come to speak with your father, at his convenience of course."

I stood blinking for a moment. "My- father? Um... come in, please." I had a feeling something was way off- why was he here looking for Dad?- and I didn't think it was polite to leave him hovering in the hall while we got to the bottom of it. Mokei stepped inside, nodded with dignity to Sage and Ryo, then looked expectantly at me. I closed the door and rubbed uncertainly at the back of my head. "You...want to contact my father?" I repeated, just to make sure. Mokei-san's eyebrows lifted in an eloquent, silent question.

"Perhaps your father is not available at this time, in which case I would be happy to leave a message for him. His secretary has been other than helpful on the matter," he said delicately. "Perhaps that is a company policy."

Needless to say, I was a bit out of my depth, and glanced quickly at my friends. Ryo looked concerned; Sage regarded me with a calm, encouraging expression. I took a deep breath, reaching for Japanese poise and subtlety. "Sir, I'll willingly take a message, but I couldn't estimate when my father would be able to receive it. I have not heard from him for almost three weeks now." I paused, double-checking. Yep, the week I was sick and then the two weeks since then...where did the time go? 

"Three-" Mokei-san's eyes widened. "Is he unwell?"

"Not...as far as I know..." I rubbed my head again, wondering what the hell was going on. Come to that, maybe I had given Dad my pneumonia; was that why he hadn't called? But what I really didn't get was the bit about Dad's secretary and company policy. "He went to New York," I added belatedly, then bit my lip for stating the obvious. Naturally he would have informed the landlord of everything-

"New York? Ah, something related to his esteemed research, of course."

I blinked again. No way. No WAY would Dad have-

"-Talk to your mother, then, perhaps? Ah, but she is traveling as well, is she not? Hmm. Perhaps if I knew when she would be available..." 

I gulped. "Sir, forgive me, but I think I need to be blunt," I said rather weakly. Mokei-san looked at me with concern, then glanced at Ryo and Sage. I followed his look, took another deep breath, and walked over to sit down on the arm of the sofa, feeling a bit better when Ryo's hand pressed lightly against my side. "Please sit down, this will take a moment or two." 

"It seems there is something I am not aware of," Mokei murmured, and carefully sat down in the armchair. "Rest assured, young man, I do not hold yourself responsible for whatever ...difficulties may lie in the way," he added quickly, looking straight into my eyes. 

That was good to know. "Thank you. Well, sir, the situation-" I had to pause and brace myself. "i-is that my parents have- divorced. My father was unhappy in his work and decided to return to the U.S., and my mother- uh, was unwilling to go with him. That was the source of- of the complaints, their failure to agree or compromise." I hesitated; Mokei-san had closed his eyes and only Ryo's quick pat on my ribs indicated that I should continue. I'm not used to this, I don't know the way... "So they sp-, uh, parted, and my father returned to New York, where he was hoping to go back to his old job. My mother plans to remain here and continue her career, but naturally, she is away often. I- I know she'll be back, but she didn't really say when, and even when she does say, it usually changes." 

Silence- silence so thick it would've taken a cleaver to cut it. 

"I...see," Mokei-san said at last, opening his eyes. "Your parents have divorced, your father has left his job and returned to his old one, and your mother is away indefinitely." 

I nodded, hoping 'indefinitely' meant what I thought it did- I hadn't run into that word very often- and tried not to shiver at the glacial anger in the landlord's voice. "I- thought they must have told you. My father said he would take care of the, um, arrangements."

"Ah." The little man sighed, his brow wrinkling. "This explains things. Why," he went on patiently at my puzzled look, "the secretary would not take messages for him, and why the company terminated the agreement. This is a difficult situation...but as I have said, it is not correctly your concern, but your parents'. I- your mother will not be gone much longer, I hope?" 

"I wish I knew, Mokei-san," I said helplessly. Something about that was bothering me. What agreement did he mean?

"Surely," Sage spoke up, startling me, "-her employers...she must be in contact with them, to report the status of her work."

If Mokei thought it odd that Sage would join the discussion he didn't say so. "Indeed, they have been most punctilious about taking messages for me." 

"Ah." Sage glanced at me. "Delivering them may be another matter." I didn't answer, too distracted with the other thought to even pay much attention. Agreement- agreement with Dad's company- Dad had said his new job in Japan would 'arrange' a place for us to live. And now that had ended, and it didn't take a genius to understand what Mokei was concerned about and it all added up to-

Oh...shit. 

"The company- they- my father said they had arranged a place for us to live, but he never told me they were taking care of the- the payments," I said in a small voice. Beside me, Ryo sucked in his breath; Sage turned quickly, his eyes widening. Mokei-san looked surprised, a bit impressed, and unhappy.

"This is not a burden for you to take on, young man," he said kindly. "That is not why I am here; I simply wish to establish contact with one or another of your parents to settle this matter."

I resisted the urge to stand up and pace, figuring that wouldn't be too courteous. "I understand that, and I'm grateful, but...the way it's going, it doesn't look like that's going to happen anytime soon, and it's not fair on you, sir." I could feel the heat in my face; how could Dad have been so- how could Mom have- why did I have to deal with this?! Hadn't they shamed me enough? Had they no sense whatever of responsibility? Paying your rent was the most basic, obvious necessity... "Dad's been gone three weeks, and he must've put in his two-week notice before that-"

"Two-week notice?" Sage wondered softly. 

"Uh, that's how we do it in America, give two weeks of warning before we leave a job. Quitting without warning is highly irresponsible, makes you look unreliable." I took in his expression and my heart sank. "I guess it's different here?"

"A month's notice is more common here," Mokei put in, "and I have reason to believe Hashiba-san followed this custom."

So we were two months behind on the rent. Fabulous. And just how long did I have before he'd be within his rights to evict us? "I, uh, suppose there's an...upper limit to that?"

The landlord regarded me gravely. "I would not trouble you with the details- it is, to some degree, at my own discretion, as I am the owner of the building. However, it would be best to see to the matter as quickly as possible. It might even qualify as an emergency, since there is so much uncertainty as to their- her- return."

Oh, boy, that sounded bad- real bad. "Emergency," I repeated, a little rattled. "Actually, yes, I think- excuse me a moment, I'll look in her office and see if I can't find...something. She does have a cell-phone," I added in explanation as I stood, "but she rarely answers it, and she tends to let messages pile up when she's, um, preoccupied." Mokei-san nodded, making some remark about it being a place to start as I hurried out of the room. 

I don't know why I thought her cell-phone number would be in her own address book, except that, flutter-headed as my mom is, she might well forget it. Especially since, as I said, she rarely used it. On failing to find it in the logical (?) place, I started searching through her desk. Between the clutter (she's never been very tidy) and my own preoccupation about the situation I was in, it took me a while to find the thing, and the fact that my hands were shaking a little probably didn't help much, either. 

I still can't say whether I was more angry or apprehensive; I was such a mix of both that neither was really dominant. There was also a healthy dose of embarrassment, though that was secondary to the nerves; I had a notion I'd be out and out humiliated when all this was settled. Adolescence tends to consist of embarrassment of kids by adults, but this was overkill to a major degree. As I sorted hastily through drawers and rummaged among papers I wondered for the first time if my parents were really as intelligent as I had always thought they were. But it doesn't take a rocket scientist to remember to pay one's rent, and forgetting to do so doesn't make one an idiot. What I concluded as I hurried back to the living-room with an old telephone bill clutched in my hand, was that my parents were not dumber than I thought: they were more self-absorbed than I had thought. 

Or maybe they were just so eager to get away from each other that they rushed things and failed to communicate properly, but I wasn't willing to give them the benefit of that doubt at the time. 

"I found it," I said rather breathlessly as I re-entered the room and hurried over to the kitchen to use that extension. I didn't want to use the one in my parents'... in the master bedroom. "Sorry to take so long..." I didn't wait for an answer, just skidded into the kitchen, grabbed the phone, and then forced myself to slow down long enough to dial properly. And if this didn't work...

The phone rang. Once, twice, three times- and then it clicked on and my mother's voice said curtly, "Hello?"

Thank goodness. "Mom, it's me-"

"Touma?" Her voice didn't soften much. "I really can't talk now, I'm expecting an important call, but since I've got you, this is looking like another extended trip. Some people aren't cooperating and I have to go digging. So don't expect me home for at least another week, more likely two. All right? Be good-"

"Mom!" I half-shouted. "Wait!" I took a deep breath. "It's the landlord, he's here, he needs to talk to you about the rent! It hasn't been paid for two months now, and-"

"Oh, Touma," my mother interrupted irritably, "why are you pestering me with this? Your father said he'd handle all that, tell the landlord to contact him. It's not my problem. I have to go now." And before I could say another word, there was a click and the buzz of the dial-tone filled my ear. I slowly drew the phone away and stared at it for a long moment, teetering between fury, fear and frustration. How could she be so...so....?!

A brown hand reached across me, taking the buzzing phone from me and replacing it on the hook. I blinked, turned, and looked at Ryo, who was frowning; at Sage, who was standing behind him, also frowning; at Mokei-san, who was standing in the doorway, his face blank but his eyes kind and troubled. I tried to speak, but all I ended up doing was shaking my head at him. 

"She's not coming back to deal with it," Ryo concluded quietly, placing his hand on my shoulder. I shook my head again.

"She- she won't be home for a week, or two, or three, or- I don't know. And- and she doesn't care." I looked over at Mokei-san. "She- said that since my father was supposed to make arrangements, it's for him to deal with. It's not her problem. We're not to pester her with it." I bit my lip as the man's face darkened and wondered if I ought to have put a shine of tact over my words. No. No, let him hear it as it was, he deserved to know what kind of tenant he had. 

"Well." Mokei sighed rather forcefully. "Well, this is...difficult."

Difficult didn't begin to describe it, I thought, and looked back at Ryo just in time to see him turn and trade a glance with Sage. Something passed between them- a tilt of the head, a lift of eyebrows, the slightest hint of a nod- and then Ryo turned back to me with a calm smile. "It's a good thing we brought your suitcase back," he observed. "Here's what we'll do: you pack your things up, whatever you want to take, and come home with us. Mokei-san-" he turned to the landlord, who looked interested, "can then do as he wishes with the empty apartment. If he wants to get rid of what's here, perhaps sell it toward the debt, he can; if he wants to confiscate things and hold them until it's settled to his satisfaction, he can do that too. This really is between your parents and him, so there's no good having you stuck in between while it's all getting cleared up. And you won't have to worry about it." 

I stared at him in amazement, my head spinning. It would solve the problems- perfectly. Mokei wouldn't feel obligated to let me stay free; I wouldn't feel embarrassed about inadvertently mooching; I would be with my friends... and Mom would come home to her just desserts! That would teach her a lesson or three about responsibility! And it needn't be for long, either; as soon as she got back, she'd settle the situation one way or another- either by paying up or finding a new place to live. Then I could rejoin her, and in the meantime, I could make myself useful at Ryo's. Somehow. 

"I- think that's a great idea," I said rather faintly, suddenly aware that Ryo was giving me a questioning look. I was too stressed to grin at him, but I managed a smile. "I can't think of a better solution...and, Ryo- Sage- thank you, God, thank you so much- this- oh, you guys..." 

Ryo smiled and put his arm around my shoulders. Sage ruffled my hair, his eyes shining. "It'll be good to have you. Especially during finals- we can study our languages together- and then when school's out, it'll be like vacation camp," my blond friend teased gently. 

"At least until your mother gets back," Ryo added, and looked at the landlord again. Mokei-san, I noticed, was smiling. "I live in Azu," Ryo told him. "I'll give you the exact address- you can give it to her when she returns?"

"I will be most pleased to do so, and I thank you for your excellent suggestion, young man." He bowed quite deeply, then looked at me. "You are fortunate to have friends like these. It is a great honor for me to have met them." 

"I know," I agreed, touching Sage's arm. "I must have done something really tremendous in a past life to end up with such wonderful friends." Mokei-san chuckled at this and Ryo and Sage- who were both blushing- grinned. "I- I'll get my stuff and we'll go- and I'll bring the keys by your office."

"Thank you. If there is anything I can do to assist, please don't hesitate to ask," the landlord offered, bowed again to each of us, then turned and left. As soon as I heard the door click, I turned and tried to hug both my friends at once- it didn't work too well, but I think I made my point.