Halkegenia Online – Arrun Parallel Stories - [<Melancholy Heart]> - Part 2 of 3
Her name was Takeda Mutsumi, and to a fourteen year old Shoichi Saitou, she had been the most beautiful girl in the world. Dark eyes and long, jet black hair. Pale, full moon face, and thin, peach colored lips. When she smiled, everyone noticed.
She was always smiling. A radiance that had been nearly blinding.
He wouldn't say that it had been love at first sight. He'd never put much stock in those sort of fairy tale ideas. More like awe, and shy fascination that someone like her would give someone like him the time of day.
But by the time they'd both graduated from high school, that first infatuation had blossomed into something far stronger, and the discovery that the feelings had been requited. Sixty two years later, Saito still hadn't figured out how someone as wonderful as Mutsumi had ever managed to fall in love with someone as ordinary as him. But she had. And for that, he had been blessed.
If only . . . If only he hadn't squandered it.
They'd married young, perhaps before they had really been ready, and life had not always been easy for them because of it. Moving to the city so that he could attend university, both of them working jobs to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads. The long commutes had eaten into their time for one another, until they were lucky to be home at the same time except late at night.
Things had only grown more hectic once he'd passed his medical exams and become a practicing physician. By then, Mutsumi had been pregnant with their first child, their eldest son Takeo, and Saito had been hard at work providing for them while Mutsumi cared for their child and home.
She'd been so proud of him when he'd been promoted to department head, and then made it to the board at such a young age. Mutsumi had her hands full with their daughter Kio as well as their youngest son Abe and the time they had to themselves had shrunken to almost nothing.
He knew Mutsumi had never been unhappy with her life. Their children were her joy, and what little time they had for one another had been made all the more precious by its scarcity. Even so, he'd always felt like there had been more he could have done to ease the burden on her.
Mutsumi had simply teased him and told him time and time again that there was no shame in working hard to take care of his family. They were a team, she'd told him, they were meant to cover for each other. And there would be time later, for all of the things they'd always talked about when they were younger, she'd always say.
There would be time once he graduated. She'd promised as they lay in bed one hot summer night.
Then later, it would be after he was established as a doctor, told to him as she served dinner in their new apartment.
After he made department head, she'd urged while patting her swollen belly, both of them thankful to know that she and their unborn child were in good hands under the care of one of Saito's best friends and colleagues.
After he got settled in on the board. After he showed the new members of the staff the ropes.
As her dark hair had begun to gray and her face had grown marked with crow's feet and laugh lines. Mutsumi had been just as beautiful to him then as she had been when they were young, but Saito had started to worry that, despite his wife's assurances, there wouldn't be enough time.
And then, there wasn't.
In the end, it had been her heart that had given out.
The murmur had been spotted after the birth of their youngest son, and Saitou had done everything right. He'd had Mutsumi put under observation, the cardiologists had studied the results, made their conclusions, and prescribed the appropriate medication. Saitou had urged his wife to rest a little, Takeo and Kio were in their teens and Abe was in school at last. She deserved to take it easy now. She'd just smiled and told him not to worry so much on her account.
She never listened, he thought.
The day Mutsumi had passed away, Saitou had made it home early to an empty house, intent on surprising her. The absence of his wife and children had alerted him at once that something was wrong, and it had not been long before he'd received a call from his own hospital.
When he'd heard, he'd rushed back as fast as he could. But by then he was caught in the commuter rush that he'd previously evaded. By the time he'd made it to the emergency room, she'd been gone.
The attending physician had just finished by the time he arrived, tears in his eyes. He was young, and talented, and not yet accustomed to losing a patient despite his best efforts. Saito had listened to the younger man's explanation, delivered in a shaken voice. The complications that had arisen that had made it impossible to save his wife.
He'd walked out the front door that morning, kissing Mutsumi on the cheek fondly, not for a moment thinking that she wouldn't still be there when he got back. And if he hadn't left early, maybe, at least, he could have had a chance to say goodbye. Maybe he could have done something if he'd been there, he knew that wasn't true, but his heart insisted that his mind was wrong.
Maybe if he'd just made a little more time . . .
Then, Saito had put a hand on the surgeon's shoulder and told him that he'd done everything he could, and thanked him for his work.
He hadn't wanted to see the body, not yet, he'd told himself that he was going to find his children first, that he wasn't running away. He'd almost managed to make that lie into the truth before he was confronted by his sons and daughter, and had to explain to them that their mother wouldn't be coming home.
At the end of that year, on their anniversary, Saitou had quietly stepped down from the hospital board, burying his grief in the work of healing, and when that grew too numbing, punishing himself as he steadfastly comforted the dying and their next of kin. He'd worked until he forgot himself, where he'd come from, and where he was going. Worked until he was so tired that the dreams wouldn't come. He couldn't stand to see her while he slept only to wake up and know that she was really gone.
If his coworkers hadn't been so worried for their former department chief, he might have continued on that path until he worked himself into the grave. Instead, he'd been taken aside one day by his superior, a man who had once been his subordinate, and kindly urged to rethink what he was doing.
Saito had told him honestly that he didn't know what else to do with himself.
He had the seniority, they pleaded with him, and a passion for medicine. Why not teach?
Teach?
Yes, teach. Get away from the life he was living. Get away from the habits that continued to reopen old wounds. If he went to teaching, he could stop reminding himself about what had happen, distance himself from the pain. And most of all, it would give him a little more time to spend with his children.
Children, he realized, that he hardly knew, despite loving them with all his heart. It had been a year before he'd really been able to face them, and be there for them as he should have been from the moment their mother had passed. Guilt over his failure had been the last straw, he'd turned his attention back to his family.
And so, he'd taken his colleagues' advice. They'd stayed in their family home, but his daily commute had started taking him to the University, this time as a professor at a teaching hospital. The work was much the same, but the change of faces, and of tempo, had at last started to break down old habits. And in the time that he'd gained, he was at last able to meet his children, seemingly for the first time, and discover just how much he'd been missing out on all of these years.
Making up for the lost time had certainly dulled the pain, buried it at last beneath all of the joy that still existed, and never ceased to come into his life. Such as seeing Takeo's graduation from medical school, and holding his granddaughter for the first time, a little wriggling baby girl, squawking indignantly at being handed to an old geezer like him.
He'd convinced himself that he was happy. He was. And that it didn't still hurt to think about Mutsumi. Time healed all wounds, as they said.
If that were the case, then now, it felt like years had been obliterated before his eyes. He was thankful that Kiriyu was there to help, he didn't know if he could have endured staying in the examination room otherwise.
As it was, once the exam was finished, he'd given Kiriyu his notes and left her to finish filling out the patient forms alone, he'd needed a breath of fresh air.
Her name was Kirigaya Yui. She was, he estimated, nine or ten years old, if biology meant one iota to their Faerie bodies. And just about the most beautiful little girl he'd ever seen. The resemblance to a young Mutsumi was uncanny.
Personality too, bright and cheerful, and decidedly unafraid of being made to sit up on the examination bench to be poked and prodded by perfect strangers. She'd observed curiously, asking an endless stream of questions of the Sylph and Undine healers while they went about their work. Such an observant child, so eager to learn.
If he didn't know better, he could have easily mistaken her for his deceased wife when she'd been only a girl. Even knowing better, if this had still been a full dive game, he thought, if he had still been dying slowly in bed, he might have gathered up the courage to confess his love to a girl like Kirigaya Yui. If only so the world knew it properly before he passed.
But that would have been grossly inappropriate in this new world where he could not simply bow out after such a confession. Professionalism had thankfully won out.
"A good thing too. I would have embarrassed myself saying some fool thing like that." Saito muttered under his breath as he leaned against a windowsill, looking down from the second floor onto the open plaza. He wondered if fate was toying with him. He'd cheated death after a fashion, so he couldn't expect to get off Scott-free.
"She would have loved it here." Saito realized as he looked out over the tile rooftops and crowns of countless trees. Loved the sights, the smells, the adventure, flying . . .
He heard the door behind him opening. "Yurudo for your thoughts." Kiriyu asked as she tapped him lightly on his shoulder. "If you don't mind me asking, Shoichi-sensei. I'm guessing there's a reason for that melancholic expression, it isn't like you."
"What?" Saito blinked, he'd merely been reminiscing was all. "Oh . . . no . . . Nothing like that. I was just reminded of . . . of something."
Kiriyu was observant, and polite enough to understand that it wasn't something he wanted to talk about just now. Handing him the file containing Yui's patient record for final review. "That's everything we discussed with Asuna-san and Yui-chan. Sorry that there's a few parts I couldn't fill out."
"[<Pre Existing Conditions]>." Saito noted the first block of blank lines in the form. Not that anyone really believed that the medical history of their human bodies was at all relevant now. But for the sake of completeness the hospitals had been collecting as much information as they could. Who knew what might end up being valuable for future study.
The parental health section was also empty. As were almost all of the rest of the pre-existing information sections. Not at all surprising given Yui-chan's unique circumstances.
Listening as Kirigaya Asuna and then Kirigaya Yui herself had explained her nature in the calm, confident voice of complete honesty. Saito wasn't really sure what to make of it.
After retiring, he'd kept abreast of current events, and especially developments in the medical fields. Surgical robots that were improving the quality and safety of medical operations, and highly sophisticated [<Expert Systems]> that could diagnose patients more reliably than a human physician. So he hadn't been completely at a loss when terms like [<Self Learning Algorithm]> and [<Machine Iteration]> had been brought up.
At first it was difficult for him to believe that such a vibrant personality was the product of a computer program, but he'd found himself excepting it as the truth. The Faerie Lords believed it. And the weight of evidence in this world was on the side of Yui and her mother. If the Pixies could gain sapience and sentience, then the same went for any other AI.
Given that it made Yui astonishingly unique, even among the Fae, Saito could understand why her mother and father had wanted to keep their daughter's nature known only among those they could trust. Especially with the ugly rumors of trafficking that had been cropping up recently. ALfheim goods and denizens stolen or poached for the lucrative black markets.
This had been a reason he'd been requested by name . Working closely on the 'autopsy' of the undead, and then examining Louise Valliere, his [<Security Clearance]> made him the natural choice as Yui's primary physician. Kiriyu as well, her status as a member of the TRIST Biological Research Sub-Committee likewise qualified her.
"So, I'm guessing this one counts as extra confidential." Kiriyu said dryly. "Right, Shoichi-sensei?"
"Right." Saito agreed as he closed the report.
As best as they could tell, Kirigaya Yui was a perfectly healthy little girl, or at least, her examination had been well within the range of what had been observed in other healthy Faeries, despite her mother's urgings for them to take note of anything at all out of the ordinary.
Saito's feelings on the matter were mixed. He was relieved of course, as her doctor, that she was healthy. But he was worried that the relief he felt wasn't just that of a Doctor to his patient. Seeing Mutsumi in her made it too easy to slip.
'But she isn't Mutsumi.' He had to remind himself of that. He was surprised by how much he wished she had been.
"I just don't get why we weren't fully briefed beforehand." Kiriyu grumbled. "It's not like either of us was going to go and blab. Did someone screw up?"
That was the question of the hour, Saito supposed, but giving it a little thought, he knew the answer. The name of the person who had recommended him and Kiriyu had been his own Lord. "We probably have Sakuya-sama to thank for that."
"What?" Kiriyu leaned over the windowsill beside him. "Hey, Saito, if you know something, spill it to us who are still the uninitiated!"
"Sorry, sorry, you're right. I was just thinking." Saito smiled as he caught sight of black and chestnut heads of hair making their way across the plaza below, each wearing a wide straw hat. "Sakuya-sama is a smart one. I think she's even smarter than she knows. I bet she wanted to see how we'd react to the news."
"About Yui-chan?"
Saito nodded. "Asuna-san was very forward with the information when it came up. I'm sure we could have learned beforehand if we'd thought to ask." And Saito was doubly sure that any medically relevant information about Kirigaya Yui would now be made fully available to him at request. As her medical caregiver, he could not oversee any treatment in the future unless he knew everything.
"Then you're saying . . . that Sakuya-sama deliberately didn't tell us, to gauge how we'd react to meeting Yui-chan for the first time." The Undine rubbed at the back of her head. "This is weirder than the pregnancy thing."
"Not at all." Saito pushed off of the windowsill, straightening his white lab coat. "I think Sakuya-sama did not want us to make up our minds about Yui-chan until we had the chance to meet her for ourselves."
"Are you implying that we can't keep our objectivity?" Kiriyu grimaced. "That seems a little insulting to me."
"I'm implying that we need to be self-conscious." Saito corrected. "Kiriyu-san, if you had many injured and sick patients, and only limited supplies and staff, what would you do?"
"Socratic method?" The platinum haired Undine stuffed her hands in her pockets. "Okay, I'll bite. Standard triage procedure, construct a list prioritizing the patients who are critically injured but likely to survive if they receive treatment and make everyone else secondary. Work my way down the list based on immediate need and reassess as the situation demands." Kiriyu frowned. "It's not pleasant, you probably know that better than me Shoichi-sensei, but that's part of our work."
"And what about if two of your patients were equally in need. Which would you pick?" Saito's eyes followed Yui and Asuna to the edge of the plaza, where they became lost in the foot traffic.
"There's always variations." Kiriyu complained. "Two patients are never exactly the same. But if it happened, I'd just have to act on my judgment."
"What if one of those patients was a Faerie and one was a human?"
"You have to ask?" Kiriyu sounded offended. "I'd treat them both exactly the same. In my eyes we are all human, regardless of what species we are."
Saito nodded, Kiriyu was a compassionate woman, he had no doubt in his mind that she would do her very best if she was one day confronted by such a difficult decision. Which was why, to prepare her, he had to confront her with difficult questions. To do less would not be teaching her.
"And what if, between these two patients, one of them was one of them was 'human' and the other was, for instance, a Coinen Sidhe . . ."
"I . . ." Kiriyu leaned back, her eyes sparking with thought. "You're joking right? One of those savage hunters?"
"So they're savages?" Saitou wondered out loud. He'd never had the opportunity to journey into the regions of Cait Syth territory where the Sidhe mobs were most numerous, so he couldn't really say.
"You know I don't mean it that way." Kiriyu pressed her lips together angrily. "I read the news. Someone's been harassing the mob patrols that get too deep into the forests, people have been hurt. And you're not going to tell me those scalps that got found by the army were put up like that by the local orcs. Pixies might be peaceful enough, but there were always passive mobs, the Sidhe were created as enemies and are just as aggressive now as they were in ALfheim."
"If you'd read the news today, you'd also know that one of the hunter guilds finally managed to make peaceful contact." Saito said softly.
"What?" Kiriyu blinked suspiciously. "You're kidding right?"
"It was thanks to one our paramedics in point of fact." Saito couldn't help but feel a little pride. Such a vulgar, angry young woman when he'd first met her. She'd mellowed some as she'd made a place for herself. And now, thanks to Boo-san, one of Lady Sakuya's ambitions might be a little closer to reality. "They found a Coinen huntswoman who had been badly hurt. As I understand, the lesser Sidhe don't possess a great mastery of magic. They were in awe that a Faerie healer would treat one of their own and were willing to speak with them because of it. This means that we might have a chance to communicate with them and make peace."
And gain the help of as many as two to three thousand additional Faerie warriors. Faeries who had been created with a knowledge and culture that suited them better to this harsh world. If nothing else, they might be able to get them to stop harassing the locals. If healers could help in that process, then it was their duty to do so. And that would mean treating the lesser Sidhe with humanity and kindness.
"They obviously don't just want to fight us. They understand debts and decency." Saito reasoned. "And even if they did not, being a doctor means that you help everyone Kiriyu. You heal even your worst enemy. When you have the power to save a life, it is your obligation to use it."
The Undine looked ashamed. "Yes, Shoichi-sensei."
"No." Saito agreed. "But my point stands. If the Coinen Sidhe become recognized as Faeries of ALfheim, then we will need to lead by example and treat them as we would anyone else. Their world and memories tell them that they have no reason to trust us, so we need to convince them otherwise. Accepting beings like Yui and the Pixies is the first step to making a habit of it."
"Habit huh?" Kiriyu's lips twitched.
"Meaning?" Saito, stumbled back as the Undine took a step forward, grinning. "Does that mean we get to talk about your habits too?"
"You're not going to tell me I'm a workaholic now, are you?" Saito asked tiredly. "I've already heard it from Et-chan." And just now, had been reminded of why she was right.
"Well, your little sister has you pegged." The Undine nodded seriously.
"She's not . . ." Saito began, and then stopped. Naturally, people knew he was much older than he looked. But when they thought of a physician playing games, their image was a young professional, certainly not a middle aged, or even elderly man. Helped along by the way Nanami treated him in public, and it was likely as true in this world as anything else.
Kiriyu shook her head. "But that wasn't what I was talking about. Your bedside manner wasn't so good in there. What gives?"
"I . . . don't know what you're talking about." Saito looked away.
"You were pretty off putting." Kiriyu pushed. "Even if Yui-chan was an AI like Asuna-san said, she's a real little girl now. She was trying to get you to like her, but you didn't bite."
"Like her?"
"All that chattering." Kiriyu frowned. "Didn't you notice? She got really quiet after a while. She probably thinks you hate her now"
"Oh."
No, of course not! He wanted to say. He'd thought he'd been hiding it better. But it seemed he wasn't the master of his own heart that he thought he was. "I was just distracted is all."
"Still, not like you." The younger physician said suspiciously, giving him an appraising eye. Saito stood his ground, he really was getting too old for this. At last, Kiriyu broke into a smile. "Kay."
"Kay?"
"Everyone has an off day. And you're too reliable a person for me to worry much, Shoichi-sensei."
"I see." Saito felt his relief returning. "Well then, I hope this isn't too much to ask, but could you file this for me?" He handed the patient record back to the Undine. "I think . . . I think I'm going to leave early today."
"Sure. Going to go surprise Et-chan?"
"I think so." Saito replied. Mostly, he just needed to get away from the hospital. But his thoughts went with him, even as he shrugged off his lab coat and grabbed his jacket from his office.
He was greeted along the way, by the vendors along the main street, and a few of the hunters taking advantage of the day of void to get their equipment checked out. He'd helped more than a few of them, men and women who had been hurt in battle, or carried back to town suffering from status ailments, poisons, or burns delivered by the more dangerous mobs.
He didn't pay most of them much mind. But they understood and didn't take offense, there was hardly a day when he didn't travel to work with his nose in a notebook, or stumble home bleary eyed to sleep. Being lost in his own thoughts was perfectly normal.
A man started to reminisce more as he aged, and Shoichi Saito was no exception, spending as much time in the past as the present. He supposed then that by the end of this second life his head would be jam packed with the past.
The weather wasn't helping. A hot day like this, with the Cicada's chirping as he made his way downhill towards the edge of town. It had been a day like this when they'd first met, and a day like this when Mutsumi had passed away. And thinking of it that way, of home, and Nanami, and coming home early, his stomach had begun to twist and turn. An ill premonition.
Saito's pace had quickened, first to a jog, and then into a sprint, running downhill full tilt until he managed to get off the main road and into the more sparely populated residential areas where it was safe to get airborne.
The home he shared with his granddaughter was in Arrun's western district, where the markets and manors started to thin out and were replaced by park ways and herb gardens built within the the safety of the outer curtain wall. It was a small, wooden residence, reminiscent of a traditional home. Hardly a luxurious place, but it suited them just fine, and reminded him of the little house he and Mutsumi had rented when they'd first been married.
He touched down in the garden ,hardly noticing he was out of breath as he vaulted onto the patio and threw the door open on its slider. "Et-chan? Et-chan?! Nanami!"
"You're home early, Saito-kun. Is something wrong?" The voice at his back caused Saito to spin around, catching sight of his granddaughter making her way across the garden with a basket full of damp clothing. "Hey Jii-chan, why are you so out of breath?"
"N-Nanami . . ." Saito whispered, releasing his breath with a sigh. Of course, just the baseless fears of an old man.
"N-no . . . No, I'm sorry," his heartbeat began to slow again, "I just didn't know where you were is all."
"Getting the laundry." She answered. "Those Leprechauns down the way are pretty smart." She started to explain as she set the basket down. "They set up these belt driven tumblers that they can drain and fill with water. It's not quite as good as a proper washing machine, and they can't dry them just yet." She smiled. "But it really saves a lot of work. Oh, could you help me with these?"
Saito had found himself clipping clothes to the line that Nanami had strung between the side of the house and the tree in the garden. With the sun like this, they'd be baked dry in no time.
"Still, I'm surprise to see you home so early." Nanami mused. "Things must have been really slow at the hospital today."
"I wouldn't say slow . . ." Saito let his mind wonder. "I suppose I just received a reminder is all.
"A reminder?" Nanami shook her head. "No, never mind. But you better not think this gets you out of dinner tonight!" His granddaughter pouted cutely.
Saito chuckled. "Right, right, of course not. Like I said, wherever you want."
"Wherever?"
"Wherever." Saito promised again. "Wherever! Honest."
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"You did say wherever." Nanami chided as Saito did his best not to feel like he was being crushed against the corner wall of the bustling establishment. He had indeed said wherever, but he'd never expected wherever to lead them to this little [<Hole in the Wall]> restaurant.
"How did you even learn about this place?" Saitou pondered just what his granddaughter was doing spending time at a place with a full bar, even if the atmosphere inside was more open and cheerful than he might have expected. Wood tables, floor, and walls polished to a gloss that shone in the reflected ore light. Less like a dive, and more like a tiny Italian restaurant he'd once frequented. That at least brought back fond memories.
Nanami scowled as she sat opposite him at the small table. "Recon told me about it. It's apparently really popular with people in the Watch and defense forces."
"So this is Recon's doing?" Saito thought aloud. "I take it back, maybe that boy isn't such a good influence on you."
Nanami stuck out her tongue. "Lighten up a little Saito-kun. Besides, where else in Arrun could you order dragon cutlets?"
Which, to Saito's considerable surprise, tasted absolutely nothing like chicken, he thought as he cut through his own serving with a knife and fork. The texture was in fact closer to a very tender beef, garnished with a faintly tangy sweet sauce that was akin to barbecue sauce, though Saito wasn't at all sure where they would have found the sugar. Probably some sort of fruit base.
"Where do they even manage to get dragons for eating?" Saito wondered.
It couldn't possibly be easy. In fact, he knew it wasn't, the cutlets had just about been the most expensive thing on the menu. But splurging like this didn't feel undeserved. Anything to make Nanami feel special. He looked over to his granddaughter who tonight had traded her kimono for a lightweight dress and sweater in light azure that complimented her hair, accessorized by a small, blue purse she'd picked up just recently. "You look lovely tonight Et-chan." He smiled.
"And you cleaned up really well too, Saito-kun." She smirked triumphantly as she nodded to his own clothes. He'd lost that battle a while ago. For the longest time he hadn't bothered much with his clothing. That too was a prerogative of the elderly. Practicality and comfort had been his only real considerations. Even the Transition had merely caused him to add more of the same so that he could do laundry now that clothes got dirty.
Nanami dragging him to a tailor's shop had been a surprise. Being fitted with an informal dress jacket, pants, and blouse, all themed in deep greens had ended up making him feel like some sort of clothes horse. But his granddaughter wouldn't hear a word of it. In her own words he needed something to 'Brighten up his wardrobe'.
Seeing himself in the mirror before setting out, he supposed she was right after all. He'd have looked under dressed going out without at least putting something nice on.
And the mood of this place was growing on him, he decided as the hostess, a tall Gnome woman with long black hair, came by to refill his teacup. Taking the opportunity to watch the rest of the of the guests.
"So, let's hear it again for Irene-sensei!"
He didn't mean to eavesdrop, but given the rather [<Intimate]> seating, it was impossible for him to ignore the trio seated at the table over.
"For surviving another year." A handsome young Salamander raised his shot glass.
"And thriving in this place." A Puca woman with golden hair curled into ringlets agreed. She was smiling, eyes closed, and with a definite flush to her cheeks that suggested inebriation more than embarrassment.
"Happy birthday Irene-chan!" The two said, clinking together their glasses before the third member of their party whose blush most definitely was from embarrassment.
An Undine, younger in appearance than both of her companions, her silver blue hair drawn back, and dressed in a beautifully patterned blue and white kimono. She clutched a cup of tea in both hands, and despite the festivity of her companions, looked in no mood to join in.
"Really now you two . . . We didn't need to go out like this on my account." The Undine addressed as Irene-sensei stuttered. "I shouldn't be away from the children for this long. And Takai-sensei, you shouldn't be having so much to drink. You have defense drills tomorrow. You'll set a bad example for your students."
"Lighten up a little Irene-chan. This is a celebration. There's nothing wrong with taking a little time off." The Salamander told her good naturedly. "Besides, it's the duty of men to endure hangovers after a night out. That's an important lesson too!"
The Undine sniffed indignantly.
"Don't tease her like that Takai-kun. And don't worry Irene-chan, the children have their minders for the night. Everyone was settled in before we left."
"And if you knew children at all, Ophelia-san, you'd know that they never stay settled for long. I've had a wonderful time. And I appreciate what you two are trying to do, but for the sake of my peace of mind, I really need to get back." Irene said as she got up from her seat and started squeezing out from between the table and wall. "Just let me go get the bill and . . ."
"You're not paying the bill on your own birthday!" Ophelia protested. "Come on, it's what makes this a little bit special."
"You didn't even have one drink with us!" Takai added, refilling his own glass. "You're supposed to take a sip for every year. If you can make it to your current age, it means you've gained a year of drinking experience. Which reminds me to ask, just how old are you now Irene-sensei."
It was hard to miss her flush, it stood out so well against the pale skin of most Undines. "That's none of your business Takai-sensei! You really are drunk aren't you?!"
"Just a little." He smiled. How much alcohol had that taken, Saito wondered.
"I'll go get the bill." Irene declared firmly. "Honestly you to need as much watching as the chil –"
It was a chain reaction of sorts, one that Saito would only have seen the end of if his attention hadn't already been on the table. A Salamander picking his way between tables had bumped into the edge, driving the table closer to the wall. In the process he'd indirectly nudged the Undine who was in the midst of working her way out from her seat. Trying to regain her balance, feet had been caught between chair legs. And the rest was simple physics.
"W-waagh!" The Undine girl pulled hers arms in close around herself, a defensive reflex that prevented her from grabbing for a handhold.
Saito's reflexes had still been respectable for a man of his years, and being in a young body had only improved them. It took him only a heartbeat to follow the trajectory of the girl's fall and note that she was going to end up slamming face first into the edge of their table. An outcome that ranged in severity from merely painful to outright dangerous.
Nanami was just starting to realize something was wrong when Saito shot out of his chair, planting one hand on the table edge for balance and throwing out the other to arrest the girl's fall. When she hit, caught around the waist, Saito was surprised by the weight, but kept his own balance as dishes were knocked from the table and the girl's purse was flung from her hands.
"Are you okay, Miss?" Saito asked the Undine pressed against his side. 'Shivering?' He thought. Her eyes only a few centimeters from the table edge.
Shaking her head, the girl let go of the front his shirt, steadying herself. Through the rest of the dining hall, hardly anyone had looked up save the manager and his wife. Spills and broken plates were a fact of life here.
"I'm . . . I'm fine." She breathed. "Oh . . . Thank you." She turned to Saito, giving a small bow as she gathered her hands into the sleeves of her Kimono. "That was clumsy of me."
"It was that jerk who bumped the table." The Salamander, Takai, said, eyes narrowing suspiciously as he made to get up from his seat. Only stopped by his Puca companion.
"No heroism tonight Takai-kun." She sounded suddenly like the picture of sobriety. "Irene-san, please, this is your party, I'll get the bill." Ophelia got up, displaying surprising coordination for someone who'd been drinking. She had no trouble picking her way through the crowded dining hall to reach the front desk.
"Jii . . . Saito-kun, that was pretty quick." Nanami sounded almost impressed with her old Grandpa.
"I was kind of paying attention beforehand." Saito admitted. "I should be the one who's sorry." Whether he'd caught her or not, he had been eavesdropping.
"I'm sorry about that, they can be a little . . . boisterous." The Undine girl said. "I don't think we've been introduced yet, I'm Irene, the head instructor at Arrun home."
"Saito." Saito provided politely. "I'm a physician at the Central Hospital. It's a pleasure to meet you Irene-san."
"Oh, well . . ." Irene seemed to realize for the first time how close together they were, very carefully taking a step back. "Thank you again Saito-san. Bowing once more, she reached down to retrieve her handbag from the floor.
"Okay Takai-kun, upsy daisy." Ophelia grunted as she prodded the Salamander to stand up. "Irene-chan, let's get going, okay?"
"Right, just a moment!" She called. "I hope we haven't caused you any trouble this evening."
No, it hadn't been any trouble at all, accidents happened, and at it turned out, the owners were very easy going about the damage, settling to simply add the fair cost of the dishes to the bill.
Thankfully, the rest of the evening had been less eventful, though Nanami had still kept them long enough to get desert. By the time they'd made it home, traveling on foot, Saito had been feeling distinctly ready for bed, and Nanami was practically in a walking coma from all of the good food.
Too late for a proper bath. All of the public houses shut down relatively early. Saito had resorted to a fire spell from the utility class to boil a pot of water to wash up with before bed. By the time he'd been finished, Nanami had already changed into her sleep clothes and was seated looking out the window.
When his granddaughter saw him, she giggled.
"Is something funny?" Saito asked as he finished drying his hair with a hand towel.
"Not really . . . well . . . maybe a little. I was talking to Recon on my way home. He's doing well by the way, he's working for the papers now. Probably a good place for him." Nanami shook her head in disbelief. "You know, he thinks you're my older brother, right?"
Saito sighed, of course he did, coming to sit beside Nanami. His granddaughter leaned against him like she had when she was still little. "That's going to be what people will think as long as you don't go telling them." Siblings playing games like ALO together must have been a lot less rare than grandchildren and grandparents doing the same. "I have the same problem with my staff. Though I don't think it's really much of a problem." A loving elder brother and a grandfather were much the same in many ways. What people labeled them didn't really matter much in the end.
"Yeah." Nanami agreed as she closed her eyes, smiling. "Though, I don't know, I think you'd make a pretty cute Nii-chan."
Saito couldn't help but scowl at his granddaughter's teasing. Except he knew it wasn't just a joke. Being able to do these things with her, fly, and travel at her side, and be relied upon. It was a change in their relationship that Saito had been giving some thought to.
Before he could open his mouth to answer, Nanami perked up. "Oh, that's what I forgot. I mean to give it to you at dinner." She got up quickly, brushing aside his arm to hurry over to closet.
"Something for a me?" Saito asked.
"A present." Nanami confirmed. "You're paying for all of our food and clothing, but you never do anything nice for yourself, Jii-chan. Sometime it makes me feel like I'm taking advantage of you."
"That's because you should be spending your time learning." Saito argued. Even without schools, young people ought to spend their time studying important things so that they'd be ready for the world. He was rather proud of Nanami for taking that advice, and especially for not over specializing like some of the young people. "And enjoying life."
"Uhuh." Nanami sounded unconvinced as she pulled her purse from the closet. "Well, I've been taking odd jobs too, and saving up. It ends up being a lot when you don't have to pay for your own food plus all the reagents I sold for the mob patrols. Then, just yesterday I saw this and I thought about how much you have to keep a schedule so . . . oh."
"What is it?" Saito asked.
Nanami's frown turned to worry and then panic. "It's not here!" Hid granddaughter pulled her purse full open. "Where could it have gotten too?" She fished around. "I know I put it in here and . . . and . . ." She stopped again, extracting a smaller leather coin purse. "This isn't mine." Nanami said seriously, falling back onto her rump as jingled the small pouches contents.
"Nanami?"
His granddaughter flushed. "Erm . . . This isn't my purse. I think . . ."
"Back at the cafe." Saito finished.
"Yeah."
They were both silent for a moment as the magnitude sank in. "It must have gotten switched with that Undine girl's when you caught her."
"You were both wearing blue." Saito agreed, it made sense that they'd have both had complimentary purses. Saito looked to his granddaughter, her dejected expression made his heart ache. She'd wanted to something special for him. "Rest easy Na-chan, it's nobody's fault." He told her reassuringly. "I'll go fix it in the morning."
"That's right." Nanami realized. "She introduced herself, didn't she."
Exactly, Saito agreed, if she worked at the children's home, than finding her shouldn't be too difficult. And if that failed, the Watch ran a lost and found.
Relief turned to embarrassment as Nanami flushed. "Silly of me to have lost it though. It was expensive too . . ."
"It's alright." He put an arm around her. "It's not a big mistake and we can fix it." He grinned. "I don't suppose you'd mind telling me what it is?"
Nanami crossed her arms and closed her eyes, features taking on a defiant countenance. "A-sur-pri-ise." She said, only cracking an eye when he started to chuckle.
"Well then, I best find it tomorrow!" He told her, yawning. "But for now, I think I'm ready for bed."
Sleeping was another of those things that he'd learned to appreciate as a full night's sleep had become a luxury in his old age. When he'd been young the first time, Saito had been able to fall asleep just about anywhere. But in recent years, he was always waking up at all hours of the night and then unable to get back to sleep again. Like an old automobile with all its mechanical belts and timings slowly falling out of tune, his body's rhythms had gradually grown erratic.
And though rhythm had been restored, the habits that caused him to remain awake were still with him. Laying in the dark, his futon spread out beside his granddaughter's, despite what he'd said, Saito had lingered for a while as he recalled the day.
"Mutsumi . . ." He muttered under his breath. The night was dark, and even with his eyes opened, they felt closed. It wasn't hard to see her in his mind. And realize he was facing the prospect of another lifetime without her. He hadn't cried since his wife had died, after losing her, it hadn't seeming like anything else was so bad, which was why he was surprised by the burning at the corners of his eyes.
'I thought eighty years would be enough to become more mature than this.' He thought as he covered his eyes with a forearm and tried not to sob. He didn't want to wake Nanami at a time like this.
He worried briefly that he had when he felt her turn over, grumbling in her sleep. "Mmm . . . nngh – jchan . . ." She mumbled inarticulately, one arm blindly reaching out towards him.
'A brother, huh?' He wondered, sitting up quietly and turning his dark adjusted eye to Nanami. Blue hair feathering all about her head. In his opinion, she was as cute in this world as she had been in the one she'd been born in.
Climbing to his feet, when he couldn't sleep, he needed to find something useful to do. Exercising, studying, or simply tidying. Nanami had left the purse out beside her mattress. 'She should have at least put it back.' He thought, someone might trip over it in the morning.
Padding barefoot around her, Saito crouched down to carefully return the contents to their rightful place. Pouches, a bundle of envelopes tied up with twine, a few small potion vials, and of course thee change purse. Then, one other item, caught in the feeble sliver of moonlight.
'A screen cap?' Saito thought as he picked it up and turned it over. Not from ALfheim, it was an imported picture from IRL. Two women standing outside the gate of an elementary school. The younger, a dark haired girl, proudly held up a diploma declaring her teaching credentials. The other, an iron haired woman who looked to be late middle aged stood with hands on the younger woman shoulders, smiling along with her for the camera.
-June, 2020, Aoi and Sensei- It read on the back in messily penned handwriting. Someone who had made a big impression on that young woman's life. Saito thought before carefully returning the photograph to the purse, making sure it remained undamaged. It really hadn't been proper for him to look at it like that without permission.
'Don't worry Irene-san.' He thought tiredly as he returned the bag to the closet. 'Your belongings are in good hands.'
