Speak: Chapter 02

"Incident"

I met Yuuki at the train station the next morning, just like we always had through each and every year of both middle and highschool. She waited for me on the platform with a cellphone in her hand, chatting amiably away to someone on the other end, and when she saw me trot up the stairs and into view her eyes lit up. She waved her school-issued bag over her head. I waved back and went to meet her; I got there just in time to hear her bid the person on the line goodbye.

"Well, we'll see ya when we get there," she was saying. "Thanks for the good news. Yeah, I'll tell her. Bye!"

She slipped the vibrant pink cellphone shut and threw her arms around my neck.

"Ohmigod, Momo, I missed you!" she squealed as I straightened my back. Her feet hovered a good fifteen centimeters off the ground; I'm pretty tall, at least 170 centimeters, and she's no bigger than 155 on a good day. "I just talked to Sugi and Akko! They already got to the school and looked at the room assignments, and we're all in the same class again this year!"

Sugi and Akko were my other closest friends. The four of us went back to middle school, back when I was awkward and shy and Yuuki took pains to open me up.

I put Yuuki down and shot her a thumbs-up with a very excited expression to emphasize my happiness.

"We also got Shouchiro as our homeroom teacher again," she continued.

I clapped my hands, excited, and then the train pulled up. We bundled inside with the other passengers, pressing close to salary men and other students, and Yuuki chatted happily over the roar of the train as it swayed alone the tracks. We were only two stops away from the school, so luckily the jam-packed ride was a short one.

I listened to Yuuki regale me with stories of her summer trip to Spain and all the boys she met there with only half of a mindful ear. Shouchiro-sensei had been my homeroom teacher ever since my first year of highschool, but even my best friend Yuuki didn't know that us always getting her was more than just a lucky break. The administration put me in Shouchiro's class each year on purpose. Shouchiro knew about my lack of speech and therefore didn't have to adjust her teaching tactics to have me in her class year after year; any other teacher would have to learn from scratch if I were put into their pool of new students.

We reached our stop a little later, Yuuki still talking, and we walked the rest of the way to school. We passed a few of our classmates on the sidewalk and stopped to talk with a few of them, and I brought out my hand-sized dry erase board and marker in order to speak to a few. I kept both the board and the marker on a key-chain connected to my bag for easy access. I tend to punctuate my sentences with sketched faces and the like, which keeps many people entertained during our somewhat painstaking conversations.

With Sugi and Akko and Yuuki, though, conversations are never too painstaking. When the four of us saw each other at the school gates we converged like a quadruple lightening bolt.

"Are you even taller?" Sugi, whom I had not seen all summer, asked. She was a tan-skinned girl with hair dyed pale chestnut brown and wide brown eyes, and everything she ever touched had to be in style or else. Perfectly curled hair, manicured nails, flawless skin; she was the beauty of the group considering her fashion tastes and killer figure. She was also almost as tall as I was, so I felt the height comment wasn't too justified. In response I rolled my eyes and jiggled my hand between the top of her head and mine, indicating our similar heights with skepticism.

"Hey, don't get snippy so soon," Akko said, hands on her hips in mock anger. The pale, black-haired girl was considerably shorter than both Sugi and myself, although she was still taller than Yuuki. "You still gotta put up with us for the rest of the day."

I moved the height-comparing motion to encompass Akko and I, and then I rolled my eyes again. I can take you, short stuff, I wanted to say, and Akko understood completely.

"Oh nuh-uh, I can beat your ass six ways from Sunday!" she giggled, hiding her glossed lips behind one delicate hand. Akko was definitely lady-like as far as her classic Japanese looks went, but she was anything but a lady with her mouth.

"Round one," Yuuki intoned in a voice fashioned after a boxing announcer's. "In this corner, Akko the Acclaimed! And in this corner, it's Momo with the Mojo!"

I raised an eyebrow at her. 'Momo with the Mojo'?

Yuuki giggled. "Hey, it fits!"

Yuuki is definitely the group's biggest stand-out. She dresses flamboyantly with a cross between punky and trendy that only she can pull off. Black nails, hair striped with wild colors the teachers could never punish her enough to get rid of, lace and ribbons and chokers and cuffs... she always wore pigtails, like someone who likes the 'Lolita' look, and her wide caramel eyes, pale skin, and small body make her look a lot like an imported doll.

I, in contrast, am tall, slender, and fashionable without being obvious about it. I like to look good, but my softball career makes me more concerned with staying in shape than keeping my hair up to date. I wear said hair (black) to about my breasts and like natural-looking makeup. I have little by way of curve and a lot by way of lean muscle, which suits me just fine. Sometimes people call me the group's guardian, of sorts, given my height and build, but then people see that I hardly ever stop smiling and I become the under-the-radar goofball.

My school day will probably bore you to tears (I know it bored me, after all), so I won't dwell on it for too long. Basically I went to my classes, ate lunch with my friends, and just generally survived. You know, highschool stuff. After school we all split up to go to our club meetings, and I headed for the softball field. Running, batting practice, throwing drills, a scrimmage...

Softball is something I am just as good at as any speaking person out there. I love it beyond all reason; it's one of my few hobbies besides cooking that make me feel like I actually belong somewhere, you know? I can move and feel and do things that talking only seems to hinder. It's a release, a breath of fresh air, and one of my true, unadulterated passions.

I spent two hours working on techniques and my various forms before our coach called an end to practice. I showered and met up with Yuuki, Sugi and Akko at the school gates to walk to the train station.

"Well, girls," Sugi said as she checked her hair and makeup in a pocket mirror. "We survived our first day."

"It was long, boring, and difficult," Yuuki said in a solemn voice, "but I think I convinced most of my teachers that I shouldn't have to dye my hair to solid black."

"And I got hit on. A lot," Akko sighed, acting like she hated it when we all knew she drank in the attention the way a flower drinks in the sun.

I picked up my board and scribbled on it. "I hit a home run!" I told them, drawing a smiley face underneath the words.

Akko offered me a high five. "Wanna hit up a karaoke joint to celebrate?" she asked, smiling at me before she looked to the others for confirmation.

I pantomimed hitting and shaking a tambourine, using my board as a prop. I enjoy karaoke just as much as the next teenager; it's the social aspect that makes it fun, not just the exaggerated singing.

"But you always call the tambourine!" Sugi groaned at me. "I can't sing worth a damn!"

"Neither can Momo," Yuuki pointed out.

Their banter, by the way, didn't bother me. They meant it out of love. I put my hands on my hips and bobbed my head in a 'hell yeah, girl, you got that right' sort of way.

"Well, I'm down if you guys are down," Sugi said, putting her mirror back in her bag. She glanced at my face and frowned. "Actually, I'm down only if Momo lets me put some makeup on her. Did it wash off in the shower after softball practice?"

I nodded, because it probably had. Then I reached into my bag and pulled out my cell phone, offering it to each of my friends in turn with a pleading look on my face.

"I'll do it!" Yuuki chirped, and she dialed my mother's cell with practiced ease. "Voicemail," she whispered, and then she said: "Hi, Miyamoto-san! It's Yuuki-chan! Well, as a way of celebrating our first day back at school, I, Sugi-chan, Akko-chan, and Momo-chan are all going to go to karaoke! Momo's cell is on and ready to go, and you can also reach the rest of us if you need to. Thanks so much! Momo hit a home run today, and she says she loves you and to have a great night. See ya later!" She hung up with a smile and handed me the phone; I signed 'thank you' and returned the look.

"Cheerful," Sugi said, looking at Yuuki out of the corner of her eye as we walked away from the school.

"That's me!" said Yuuki. "Now lets go belt some tunes!"

~

Sugi, predictably, was able to flaunt enough cleavage to get away with ordering alcohol despite us being underage, and Yuuki (also predictably) drank so much that she couldn't stand. I kept her alive in the corner, forcefeeding her water and salty chips so she'd get thirsty and drink even more water, but she did not sober up as Sugi and and Akko danced around to music and made general idiots of themselves.

I clapped my hands during a break in the music to get everyone's attention. My board had been pre-prepared to say: "Yuuki can't make it home like this, and it's getting late. What should we do, guys?"

I had reservations, you see, about being able to get Yuuki home because the karaoke place was in the opposite direction from our train stop. I couldn't carry her all the way home; it just wasn't practical.

Sugi glanced at her watch, cheeks pink from the alcohol. "Crap, it's after eleven! And we have school in the morning!"

"Tell ya what," Akko slurred, "she can stay at my place. The parents are gone until Sunday anyway." She'd hit the alcohol pretty hard, too, though not as hard as the petite Yuuki.

"Yeah, and between the two of us we shouldn't have any trouble getting her there," said Sugi. She and Akko lived only a few blocks apart from one another, and they both lived in the same neighborhood as that karaoke place.

I erased my board and scribbled: "Will you two be OK? You're both pretty drunk." I had stayed mostly sober; alcohol made my head ache.

Sugi waved her hands at me as she and Akko began to put on their shoes. Yuuki, at my side, groaned and giggled as she swatted at my hair with one drunken hand.

"Eh, I'm good, I'm good," said Sugi, and after she grabbed both her and Yuuki's bags she tried hefting Yuuki to her feet. It took both our efforts to get the short girl standing, and she could only walk with Akko and Sugi supporting her on both sides. I escorted all of them out of the karaoke place, smiling at the clerk as we left, and watched as they turned in the direction of their homes. The trains were in the complete opposite direction.

I held my board up again; it still held the same message as last time.

"Relax, Momo," Akko said. "We've got this. You're the one who needs to be careful, going home all alone."

I grinned and pantomimed swinging a baseball bat at an invisible assailant.

"Yeah, you do kick ass," said Yuuki, giggling. She flailed one foot and then groped Sugi's butt (the tall girl yelped). "Get it? Kick, ass!"

I patted her on the head, gave Sugi and Akko intense looks of 'please be careful,' and turned away. I waved over my shoulder as they called goodbye ("And stay out of trouble!" Akko added) and with a breath of cool night air I started off down the street.

They'll be fine, I told myself. They're big girls, after all.

The nightlife in that part of town wasn't lively, considering it was a Monday. However, the lights of the shop signs and the music streaming out of open doorways was pleasant, and I was so busy drinking it all in that I did not see the guy until I ran right into him. Our shoulders collided with a rustle of cloth and the smack of skin on skin, and as I reeled back on the sidewalk I found myself looking into the eyes of a tall young man in a stocking cap. Four others stood behind him, wearing saggy jeans and cut-off shirts and looking generally thug-like. I bowed on reflex, trying to apologize.

"Ouch!" the guy I'd hit said in a voice that was both mocking, pained, and gleeful all at once. "That really hurt! I think I broke my arm!"

"You'll need money for a hospital bill," said one of the others.

A third guy came right up in my face, sneering through narrow eyes. "What's this, a school uniform?"

"Ooh, maybe the schoolgirl knows proper etiquette," said another. "Apologize to the guy you just attacked!"

Not knowing what else to do, I bowed from the waist. I then reached for my board, uncapped my pen, and started to write.

The guys were having none of that.

"What, are you too good to talk to us?" said the leader. He snatched the board away from me; all I had written was 'please, I am unable to.'

Oh damn, I thought with a rush of panic, this is so not good.

"Stuck up little bitch needs to be taught a lesson," said one of the guys. He reached for me, but by then I realized that I was in way over my head and needed to get out of there, and fast. Taking advantage of the leader's assumption that I was a meek little schoolgirl who wouldn't be able to sprint too well, I wheeled around and pelted off down the street as they called after me in shock, back the way I had come and toward Yuuki and the others. If I can just get to the karaoke place, I thought, I can hide in there, and—

And my luck didn't like that plan at all. Despite my softball speed and long legs, I wasn't able to get away fast enough because—

"Oof!" said the second person I decided to run into that night. I bounced off of him (the voice was male, that was for sure) and hit the concrete on my butt. It hurt, and air hissed out from between my teeth in a silent scream.

A pound of feet heralded the arrival of the gangsters. "Hey, you!" one of them said, but when I turned to look I realized that they weren't addressing me at all. That was when I took my first look at the second guy I collided with that night.

He seemed tall, although that could have been because I was sitting on the ground, and he had a hairstyle of such a stereotypically punky slicked-back fashion that, for a moment, I wondered if he was the thug I should have been afraid of. He seemed to writhe beneath his skin, like his spirit was too big to be contained in the shell of his body. Brown eyes looked everywhere at once, skipping nothing even as he stood blinking at my five pursuers.

"Scram, dude," the lead thug said as he and his cronies finished skidding to a stop behind me. "This doesn't concern you."

"Who, me?" said the-guy-who-wasn't-my-thug. His voice held an air of surprise that did not match his narrowed eyes, stooped posture, and the hands shoved tensely into the pockets of his windbreaker.

"Yeah," said the leader. He obviously didn't think much of the new guy, who I noticed now was a few inches shorter than the thugs I'd pissed off so much. "Now beat it before I decide to teach you and the girl both a lesson."

The young man looked down at me as if it was the first time we'd met. "Does he mean you?"

I scowled. What, did he not notice me run into him? I thought. Trying to act touch or something? News flash, buddy, we're outnumbered so quit it with the jokes!

"Yeah, I mean her!" said Leader. He obviously did not like being ignored. "She needs to apologize to me!"

"Little bitch broke his arm!" said a thug.

My young man smirked, wide brown eyes narrowing into crescents that glittered with an intimidating light. "You must be pretty weak to get your arm broken by a girl," he sniggered. "Why don't you just go home and cry to your mommies about it, already?"

My jaw dropped. Does he have a death wish?!

"Why you little punk!" said another thug. I couldn't see him since I was facing the new guy, but I could tell that he turned to Leader as he said: "Just forget the girl and go after this guy! He called you weak!"

"I think I like that plan," Leader growled. "You ready, ugly?"

The young man's jaw dropped to mirror mine. "Ugly!" he repeated, and then his face darkened like a storm. "Oh hell no. Nobody calls me ugly!" He pounded one fist into the palm of his other hand. "Get ready for the beat-down of your life, bitches!"

I was thinking, at that point, that it was an opportune time to run away when all the thugs were distracted with one another, but as I readied myself to run past the slick-haired young man I heard a new voice say: "Don't move!"

Believing they were talking to me, I froze, but the next young man who appeared in the shadows behind my unknowing savior didn't seem to be talking to me at all. Long red hair (surely that's a color treatment, I thought. He did a great job on his roots), brilliant green eyes, pale skin... definitely not Japanese, in my opinion. However, all racial comments aside, the brown-eyed menace paused and turned to look at this newcomer, and when he saw who it was he grinned. They obviously knew one another.

"Kurama," he said, eyes glittering, "you're just in time for the show."

But Kurama shook his head. "We don't have time for this, Yusuke."

"Oh, c'mon, lighten up," said Yusuke. "It'll take me five minutes."

The redhead sighed, shoulders slumping, and that's when he saw me on the ground. Green eyes pressed into dark slits. "Is the girl a target of yours, too, Yusuke?" he asked, obviously unhappy with this development.

"No," said Leader. "She's ours."

"I see," said Kurama in a grave voice. He walked past Yusuke and offered me his hand. "Come with me while Yusuke takes care of these gentlemen," he said, gorgeous face polite and cool.

"Hey, don't touch her!" snapped Leader.

Kurama regarded the thugs with little emotion. "Get past Yusuke," he said, "and you may have the pleasure of fighting me."

"That's a stupid bet, Kurama," Yusuke said, chuckling. "You already know I'm gonna mop the floor with these jerks."

The thugs took offense.

"Five on one and you're this cocky?" said Leader. "Just you wait, pretty boy, I'll be after you and that bitch in no time!" Then he let out a yell I assumed was a battle-cry; Yusuke darted past me and Kurama with a grin to rival the devil's.

That's when I took Kurama's hand; his skin was cool and firm. He pulled me to my feet and, guiding me by his grip on my fingers, he tugged me at a quick jog down the street away from the brawl. I could hear Yusuke's voice above the sound of flesh on flesh, whooping with joy that made me think he could only be winning.

When we passed the karaoke place, still at a brisk jog, I dug my heels into the pavement. Kurama still managed to drag me along for a good five feet before he stopped, and when he shot a look (a peeved one) over his shoulder at me I pointed at the shop's doors. His eyes widened, narrowed, and he nodded before jerking me into the building after him.

The clerk behind the desk was reading a magazine, and when he looked up to see me in his place of employment for the second time that day, he raised an eyebrow. I waved behind Kurama's back, unsure of what to do now that we were inside, but Kurama took charge immediately.

"Room for an hour, please," the redhead said, pulling a billfold from the pocket of his jacket with the hand not holding onto mine with a cold, vice-like grip.

"Sure," said the clerk, watching as Kurama pulled far too much money out of his wallet and slammed it on the counter.

"Also, we'd like sake and whatever food you have," he went on, and when the clerk handed him the keys to, ironically enough, the same room I had been in with Sugi, Akko, and Yuuki, Kurama pulled me down the hall without a backward glance.

We went into the room and he slammed the door behind us, letting go of my hand only when he got the door shut and locked. I stood by the small table in the center of the room, unsure of what to do now that I was alone in a tight space with a boy who had both saved me from a beatdown and had kidnapped me all at once.

Luckily, however, Kurama just turned to me and smiled.

"I'm sorry about that," he said, tone sounding sincerely apologetic, "but on the off chance Yusuke does lose, I did not want to be around to become their next target."

I returned his smile with one of my own.

"I got food; you look shaky," he said, and then the page light above the door flicked on. His eyes flickered between the light and my face. "Speaking of which, give me a moment to go get it."

Once he left to go get whatever it was he had ordered, I put my bag down on the couch next to me. The room, for those who want to know, had a TV mounted on one wall and the karaoke box (plus various musical instruments, like my preferred tambourine) set beneath that. The other three walls (excepting the space just inside the door) had couches lining them, and in the center of the room sat a low coffee table for snacks and drinks.

This is going to be awkward, I thought. Alone with a guy I don't know whose friend is fighting for me outside... they're great guys, I guess, but ordering food for me? That's a little much, isn't it?

Kurama came back soon, loaded down with sushi and a bottle of sake and cups. He set all of it on the table before taking the couch opposite me, and I was pleased with the fact that he gave me space. I was also pleased that he served a plate and handed it to me. Then he poured a cup of sake.

"Drink that," he said as he handed it over. "You're pale, but it's alright now. Yusuke will take care of them."

I smiled and took the cup, tossing the liquid back with a grimace. It warmed me from head to toe even though I didn't particularly like alcohol. I chased the drink with a bite of salmon sushi, and as I chewed (Kurama, I noticed, ate nothing) my new friend regarded me through cool eyes.

"Now that you've had the chance to calm down a little," he said (I never was not calm, I thought, although it was nice of you to give me the time, I suppose), "would you mind telling me what you did to make those... men, mad?"

I reached for my bag on reflex, intending to take my dry erase board off of its customary keychain and use it to explain, but it wasn't there. I froze, confused, before remembering that the thugs had taken the board back when I first met them.

Oh, damn, I thought. This is going to get complicated.

"It's alright if you don't want to tell me," Kurama said when I didn't answer, but I could see something besides sympathy—something dark, unyielding, and calculating—brewing in the depths of his eyes. The look scared me, and I took a deep breath before taking another piece of sushi and shoving it into my mouth. Thinking while I chewed, I decided that the best course of action would be to brave the wild and rough waters of the one thing everyone could understand:

Pantomime.

I finished chewing and swallowed. Then I held up one finger and put it in front of me, making the universal 'stop and pay attention' sign with both that motion and the hard set of my eyes and lips. When Kurama looked perplexed, I pointed at myself. It took him a moment to get what I was doing, but when I jerked my thumb at myself a few more times he finally, in a very confused voice, said: "You?"

I nodded and pointed at my mouth.

"Mouth?" His look turned murderous. "Did they hit you?"

I grimaced because that wasn't quite what I meant, and so I pointed at my throat instead. As I did that I shook my head from side to side, and then I rolled my eyes and held up my hands in a gesture that said: "Hey, what can ya do, y'know?"

Recognition made his eyes light up. "You can't talk!" he said.

I dropped the pantomiming and nodded, grinning all the while.

"A mute?" he said.

Another nod.

"Deaf, too?"

A head shake and a point at my ear, followed by a thumbs up sign.

"Oh. Well, that explains a lot. Most people scream when they're... attacked."

I exhaled quickly through my nose. The noise sounds an awful lot like a muffled laugh or a derisive snort to those who don't know any better. It's my version of a giggle since I don't have any alternatives besides happy hyperventilation or silent shaking, and neither of those things are very flattering.

He seemed to understand my 'laugh' regardless, however, and he chuckled, too. "Speaking of which, what did you do to make them so mad?"

I can sigh like a normal person, but there's no inflection to it since my vocal chords don't work. The sound is basically a burst of air rushing past over my soft palate, but the general effect is the same. I reached with my right hand and shoved myself in the left shoulder, and then I mimed grabbing my arm in exaggerated pain.

"... you punched him?"

I put my hand over my face and laughed for a moment, and then I stood up. I motioned for Kurama to come closer to me, and when he did (with a look of wariness I couldn't see the reason for) I walked past him and bumped his shoulder gently with my own. I spun on my heel and pointed at him before pounding one fist into my other palm.

"I see," he said, face contorted into a mockery of seriousness that may or may not have been a cover for irreverent laughter. He was taller than me, I noticed, but only by a few inches. "Typical punk behavior, I suppose?"

I nodded and shrugged, sitting so I could load more of the sushi onto my plate. I gestured for him to do the same. He did.

"So... what's you're name?" he asked, putting a strip of tuna on his plate.

I stared at him, mouth full. He doesn't understand signs, I thought, so how can I...

His eyes flickered toward my school bookbag lying on the couch. "A pen and paper might not go amiss," he said delicately, and I felt a blush creep into my cheeks.

Why the hell didn't I think of that? I wondered as I opened my bag and took out a notebook and pen. I shook my head to side from side, laughing a little at my own stupidity, and wrote my answer. "I'm Momoko," I scribbled, "but people call me Momo."

He scanned the page and smiled. "It's very nice to meet you, Momo," he said.

I very quickly made a chibi drawing of my new friend (notes on my chibis: the only reason they look like their models is because I ultra-exaggerate their hairstyles and clothing; I am in no way, shape, or form an artist). Above the small figure I drew a speech bubble. "Hi, my name is," I wrote in it, leaving space for him to fill in the blank. When I handed both the board and the pen to him, his eyes popped open in surprise. Then he laughed.

"I'm Kurama," he said, and for my benefit he filled in the bubble with hiragana despite his verbal acquiescence.

"I heard your friend say that, now that I think about it," I wrote. "I am really stupid tonight. Sorry!"

He stared at the paper before laughing. "Not stupid," he said in a reassuring voice, "only shaken. You have no need to worry on my account."

I smiled, grateful for his understanding, and just then the page light above the door went on for the second time. Kurama frowned and stood up. "Wait here," he said, and he opened the door. I heard his friend—Yusuke, was it?—say something in the hallway before the door fell shut behind Kurama. I immediately hopped up, wanting to thank the guy who fought for me for... well, fighting for me, but when I laid my hand on the doorknob and started to push it open, the things they were talking about gave me pause.

"...sign of him?" Kurama was asking.

Yusuke's voice answered: "He's nearby, but I can't pinpoint his location. I can feel 'im watching, though."

The redhead let out a heavy sigh, one that spoke of immense weariness. "So I suppose he's noticed Momo, then."

"Who?"

"The girl."

"Oh. Well, I'd sure think so. If she's been cooped up with you in a tiny room for this long then she probably feels like you by now, you know?"

A low chuckle. "I know."

What the hell are they talking about? I thought. I would 'feel' like Kurama? But that's absurd!

Yusuke asked: "So what do we do now?"

"She's become a liability," Kurama said.

My heart fluttered in sudden fear because those words coming out of Kurama's mouth made it seem like I had witnessed a Yakuza killing, or something, and that I needed to be bumped off, and I had spent more than enough time with a gang today, thanks so much!

However, I calmed down when Kurama went on to say something that sounded far less troubling: "I'll make sure she gets home safely," he said.

"Good idea. I'll meet up with the others in the meantime." Yusuke chuckled. "She looks like a trouble magnet, no question."

"You have no idea." Kurama's voice dropped. "She can't speak, Yusuke."

Yusuke paused, probably too confused to formulate a reply.

"She's a mute."

Yusuke let out a low breath. "So that's what that gang meant when they said she was too good to talk to them," he muttered. "Yeah, definitely a trouble magnet." He swore so colorfully it put my fast-talking friends to shame. "This is the worst neighborhood she could possibly be in tonight, and we don't need any more distractions on this case! Let's get her out of here ASAP."

"I agree. But please meet her first. She probably wants to thank you, and I ordered sushi and there's no sense wasting it—"

"Food? Sweet, I'm starved!" Yusuke paused again. "Maybe just one more distraction, in that case."

I heard one of them move, a bare rustle of cloth and a single footstep, but that was all the warning I needed to sit back down and pretend I didn't hear a single one of their confusing words. I stared down at my lap until the door opened, and when it did I looked up, smiled, and waved in a way that said "Oh my god, fancy seeing you here!"

"Yusuke," said Kurama, gesturing to me, "this is Momo-san. Momo-san, this is my friend Yusuke."

"Nice to meet you!" Yusuke said, eying the food on the table.

Kurama sighed. "Go ahead, Yusuke."

His eyes lit up like kerosene lanterns. "Don't mind if I do!"

"Thanks for saving me back there," I scribbled on my notepad, and I had to rap my knuckles on the table to draw his attention away from the sushi.

"Hey, no problem," Yusuke said. "Oh, and I'm gonna be straight with you: Kurama told me you can't talk."

The aforementioned Kurama looked mortified.

"So, yeah, I know already and now we can skip awkward explanations," Yusuke went on. When he saw that Kurama was glaring at him he said: "What? I already knew and I saved time by telling her I did!"

I knocked on the table; they looked at me, expectant. I grinned at them both and shot a thumbs up, and then I scribbled: "I prefer not to make a fuss over it."

"See!" said Yusuke, shoving food in his mouth. "No fuss!"

Kurama appeared to be having a difficult time accepting that. His shoulders were tense, bones standing out against the skin of his neck as he mopped a hand over his face, gave me a tired smile, and said: "I suppose you're right."

I just smirked and shrugged. No big deal.

Kurama took a moment to glance at his watch. "Well, Momo-san, the last train will be leaving in half an hour. In the interest of not letting you get mixed up in another brawl—" (his eyes twinkled when he said that) "—would you allow me the courtesy of walking you to the station, or wherever else you need go?"

I nodded, holding back a smile because getting walked to the station by someone as cute as Kurama sure was something to smile about. I grabbed my bag, watching as Yusuke tried to stuff the last of the food into his face (he was turning out to be a pretty laid back and funny guy now that the threat of a gang fight was subtracted from the social equation). I stood awkwardly next to him until he looked up at me, and when he did I bowed. My hair swung forward, covering my face on all sides with its long black curtain, so I didn't see his face when he replied: "Hey, quit it! I probably would have beaten them up anyway!"

I straightened and laughed; so did Kurama before he gently touched my shoulder and turned me away from Yusuke.

"Let's go," he said. "We have to hurry." He added: "See you later, Yusuke."

"Sure," Yusuke said around a huge bite of tuna. He waved a hand at us in dismissal. "See ya, Kurama."

And then we were gone, leaving Yusuke—alone but for some sake and sushi—sitting snug in the karaoke booth.