Hitomi: Is there an angry mob out there?
Angry Mob: No...
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Chapter Three
The day started normally for Yoruichi. She woke up at 5:30 AM. Yoruichi always got up early, not because anyone woke her up, but because her biological clock had an alarm.
She rolled out of her bed and yawned. She did a few morning stretches to get her blood pumping. She slipped out of the yukata she slept in. She tied a dark green jinbei on. It was very big for her. It belonged to her father.
Father… Yoruichi thought as she tied her hair up with her stolen ribbon. Her hair was not at all long, but if she worked at it, she could get it into a decent bun. She patted her hair and walked to the door.
Her door was an odd one. It was influenced by Western culture and was made of wood, not paper. Yoruichi sometimes walked in her sleep, and when she was smaller she would burst right through the wall. Maki renovated it by reinforcing the walls with plaster and installing a new door, neither of which she did personally. All the changes added on to the room's cell-like appearances. No light came in from the outside and it seemed dark and frightening at night, even with a candle.
Yoruichi walked down the hallway quietly. She stopped at the end of the hall, where there was an overly large door. She struggled a little to get it open. She walked inside. The room was nearly as large as her room, which really wasn't saying much. She neglected to light any incense, but she did light a few candles.
She lit one for her sensei, herself, Tarou, Rin, and her father Sachio. She said each of these people's names as she lit each candle. After a lot of thought (and a bunch of nagging from her conscience), Yoruichi finally decided to light a candle for her mother.
"Maki," Yoruichi whispered before bowing her head and putting her palms together.
"Please, I beg you. I pray that my father returns safely home. I hope his trip has not been weary. Please, let him bring many riches with him. Everyone would be so much happier if he just came home." Yoruichi prayed. She pulled a flower out of a vase by the door and put it in front of one of he seven statues in the room, the one holding the fish. "I have given you a gift, Ebisu. Bless my father."
Yoruichi's father sailed the seven seas, trading ivory, silk, and spices. He traveled up and down the Spice Route and the Silk Road for years. He had become very profitable, though Japan was reluctant to trade with other countries.
Then, a mere three years after Yoruichi was born, Shihouin Sachio left on a voyage to Brazil and didn't return. Souma-sensei said it took two years to get to Brazil. But really, how could he be gone for eight years? There was no justification. Yoruichi wished he'd just come back. Virtually everyone in the house was sure he was dead. Souma-sensei said that she thought he was alive and well, but Yoruichi thought that was just to make her feel better.
"Move it!" Yoruichi pushed her sensei through the market streets. "We're losing valuable sunlight here!" They were taking a different route than normal. They were traveling on the Kyoto Wharf, the place where most of their fish came from.
The wharf was a noisy place. Huge crates hung from ropes overhead. They swung clumsily as they were unloaded from ships. Souma-sensei cringed, thinking that maybe one of the ropes might break and a crate would crash down on her and little Yoruichi.
"Why did you want to go this way again?" Souma-sensei asked. A fishing boat dumped its catch on the dock. The stench of smelly fish mixed in with the smell of salty water.
"It's quickest." When pushing Souma-sensei failed to be fast enough, Yoruichi tugged at her hands instead. Getting Souma-sensei to go to the bookstore was easy. Getting her to go to the bookstore quickly wasn't.
Yoruichi maneuvered through the crowd expertly. She ducked into the hardly noticeable bookstore doorway. She let go of Souma-sensei's hands and rushed to the center of the store. She raised her hands and posed grandly. If she were more aware of the cultures of other parts of the world, she would have known that she resembled a tango dancer or a ballerina.
"We're here!" Yoruichi announced unnecessarily.
"I've noticed." Souma-sensei eyed the store.
"Look!" Yoruichi rushed over to the mini-gong. "Does this look familiar?"
"Yes. But please stop, Yoruichi. You're acting like a child."
"Oh, I'm so sorry! I forgot that eleven-year-olds are supposed to act twenty-five." Yoruichi sneered, despite her excitement. She picked up the mini-mallet and struck the gong.
"Yoruichi?" Urahara shuffled into the room. His shoes clacked noisily on the wooden floor. Wooden floors were a luxury that most people couldn't afford. Business must have been doing well.
"And friend." Yoruichi pointed at Souma-sensei, who bowed with her hands clasped in her lap.
"Hajimemashite. Nice to meet you." Urahara bowed informally. He smiled at Souma-sensei. "Are you guys…sisters?"
"Hardly," Yoruichi laughed. "She's my tutor. She has business in town, so she thought might as well see me off."
"How old are you?" Souma-sensei asked in that random way of hers.
"Me? Seventeen."
"And that's old enough to run a business?"
"Yeah…well…I guess. It's not like I have a choice. If I don't work, I don't get money to buy food and all. I live alone."
"Oh. Why?"
Urahara was silent for awhile. "I have no one to live with. My brother died."
"Why?"
"Well, I wouldn't know, since I wasn't the person who killed him."
"What do you sell here?"
"…Books?"
"What kind of books?"
"Souma-sensei!" Yoruichi interrupted her teacher's interrogation impatiently.
"Right. Sorry." Souma-sensei pushed up her glasses. "I guess I'll go now. Take care."
"I will, sensei."
"And, I'll talk to Takeo today. I'll get him to apologize at the very least. You'll apologize too, won't you?"
"Whatever."
Souma-sensei looked at Yoruichi worriedly. "I'd stay if I could. If anything happens, you have my permission to use your knife." Souma-sensei looked at Urahara square in his eyes. "Anything."
Seven books lay strewn in front of Urahara. They were each strategically placed, overlapping each other in various ways. He had a habit of reading several books at the same time. Yoruichi sat quietly across from him at the small table.
They were reading in the backroom Urahara seemed to spend most of his days in. The room was relatively big. A small mat lay rolled up in the corner. Stacks of books acted as stands for his washing basin. A cupboard with no doors held clean dishes.
The room was messier than Yoruichi would have liked it to be. There were bottles and dirty bowls all over the floor. Crumpled pieces of paper lay neglected. Urahara had made an effort to clean by pushing all the trash on to an unused wall.
"Who's Takeo?" Urahara asked suddenly. He flipped the page of three different books.
"Hmm?" Yoruichi said absently. She furrowed her brow and tried to concentrate on her story. She hated it when people talked to her as she read. It was annoying, and Souma-sensei had a habit of doing it.
"Takeo. You know, that boy you and your tutor was talking about."
"Nobody. Nobody important anyway. He's this totally obnoxious mama's boy who thinks he's funny. He broke my sword and he cut me right here." Yoruichi slapped her knee angrily.
"Your sword? How'd he do that?"
"It's not a real sword. It was made of wood. He stepped on it. We were having a swordfight, and he was mad that he lost. Well, he didn't lose, but he definitely didn't win." Yoruichi looked at Urahara to make sure he was still listening. "Does that make sense?"
"Yes, perfect sense. And the dagger. Is that made of wood?"
"Nope!" Yoruichi fumbled in her bag and withdrew a 10 cm knife. She removed a black, fake-jewel decorated hilt to reveal a silver dagger. "Nice, huh? And it's sharp too. I wonder why she'd want me to use it on you…"
"She probably thinks I'm a child molester." Urahara laughed. "A perverse pedophile with a fetish for young girls…" Urahara laughed again and continued to read his books. Yoruichi, on the other hand, neglected her book and stared nervously at Urahara.
Five minutes passed, and Yoruichi still hadn't begun her book again.
"It was a joke, something meant to be laughed at. So please, stop staring at me. You're really giving me the creeps."
Souma-sensei knelt so that she could tie Yoruichi's kimono.
"No, sensei! Let me do that. You're to gentle; my clothes would come loose."
"Oh, all right." Souma-sensei pulled herself up from the floor. "I've been tying my own clothes for the past fifteen years, and they have never come undone. But, if you insist, I have to do my make-up anyway."
"Wait!" Yoruichi grabbed onto Souma-sensei's arm. "I need you to tie my hair up." Yoruichi held up her red ribbon. On their mad dash home, Yoruichi's other ribbon had come loose. But it was okay, since the kimono she would be wearing at dinner would be red anyway.
"Where'd you get that ribbon?" Souma-sensei narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"Oh…um…" Yoruichi had nearly forgotten she'd stolen the ribbon. "Urahara gave them to me. He sent for some books and they came tied together with three ribbons. He didn't need them…so he gave them to me."
"Who would tie books up with ribbons? What happened to good ole rope?"
"I dunno… maybe they thought it looked prettier."
They were both quiet for awhile as Souma-sensei tried to force Yoruichi's hair into a bow. Finally, Souma-sensei spoke.
"How's Urahara?"
"Well…he's nice."
"Are you sure?"
Yoruichi smiled at Souma-sensei's overprotective-ness. Some of the girls on her street complained when their mothers snooped in their business. But, seeing as her own mother didn't give a damn, she needed all the caring she could get. "I'm positive. He's got an odd sense humour, and he reads loads of books at the same time. He's really…weird." Yoruichi taped her chin thoughtfully. "But that's okay because I'm really weird too."
"You? Weird? Unique, maybe, but weird? Never. Why would you think so?"
Yoruichi was silent. Weird was the only word that could describe her. Or, at least, how she felt that day. Eight million ants crawled all over her skin. Her vision switched from being blurry to clear randomly, as if deciding which were better. She felt that she was wearing clothes four sizes to small, like maybe her birthday suit itself was shrinking.
"I give up!" Souma-sensei handed the ribbon to Yoruichi. She held up her hands in mock defeat. "Your hair is way too short. I can't even get it into an odango! You'll just have to wear it down." She picked up a brush from the countertop and proceeded to brush Yoruichi's hair. She used the ribbon a headband to keep Yoruichi's hair behind her ears.
When she finished, Souma-sensei put the brush down and looked at herself in the mirror. They were in the powder room, and Souma-sensei was planning to do her make-up.
The powder room resembled the bathroom in every way. They were on opposite sides of the house, and they had wooden doors with sophisticated locks. The tiles on both floors were white with pink diamonds and the paint on both walls was pink with black stripes. There was one difference, one that Yoruichi vowed never to forget since that fateful day when she was five years old. The powder room had no toilet.
Souma-sensei opened a large jar. She smeared the white cream on her face. She took a thick paintbrush and smoothed the cream out. She then dabbed on some light brown powder so that her make-up looked more natural and less shiny. She opened an inkwell and dipped a smaller paintbrush in it and painted her lips.
Yoruichi never put on make-up. The white make-up that was supposed to go on her skin contrasted badly with her brown skin tone. Still, she rubbed her hand against her face and tried to imagine herself with make-up.
Her skin felt rough against her fingers. No…not her skin…her…hair? It reminded her of the day that Tarou had shaved his head nearly bald. His head had felt spiky, as her skin was feeling now. Did she have hair growing on her face now?
Speaking of hair…Yoruichi drew her hand away from her face and smoothed out her hair thoughtfully. This morning, Yoruichi was able to get her hair into a bun with ease, yet just now it was impossible. As if her hair had grown shorter…
Weird indeed.
I apologize for not updating in so long. But the reason is...
I'M GROUNDED!
Yes, grounded. No computer, no television (no House. M.D. :-( ), no fun. I got up this morning at the crack of dawn to write this chapter. It's rushed, since I have to finish it before my parents. (There might be a few typos. I'm very jumpy this morning. When I first got on the computer, the Windows starting song came on, and I forgot to turn the speaker down. It was the LOUDEST noise I have EVER heard.) It's really choppy and the scenary changes every fifty lines. Urahara doesn't even DO anything! So, for that, I'm sorry.
There is no sublimenal message whatsoever in what I am writing. I just like to write random things for no apparent reason because I'm weird..