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Chapter 2-
"Ojama itashinashita! Mata o-me ni kakarimasyoo!"
Momiji cheerfully sent the last customer on her way, closed
the register and heaved a sigh. She had no idea working
in a flower shop could be so hard. The old women she could
handle, but the high-school girls that swarmed the place
in the afternoon had been a challenge to her temper. Constantly
demanding attention, cheerfully clattering like brainless
hens, hindering their job...
The guys seemed used to it, even resigned... all except
one who seemed to enjoy it, almost craving feminine attention.
The pot she was holding protested her rough handling as
she watched Youji wave the last of the chits away, exchanging
sweet nonsense.
Youji noticed her dark look and winked at her!
The pot gave in under the pressure.
"Momiji-san, are you alright?" Ken asked with
concern.
"Fine!" she snapped handling him the pieces
"The pot was defected"
She chose to ignore Youji's amused glance.
Ken sighed. He could tell life wouldn't be easy with those
two picking on each other like a couple of kids.
His thoughts turned to the youngest member of their group
laying in his bed struggling to defeat the weakness that
had overcome him. Ken could tell the physical injuries
weren't the only thing that were weighing down on the
kid. If Omi would just open up, give any sign of what
was torturing him, he was sure that together they could
fix things. But Omi kept everything inside, as all of
them did because some things just weren't meant to be
shared.
Ken dumped the pieces in the waste-bin and helped the
others shut the shop.
"What do you mean there's no food in the house?"
"Just what I said"
Ken entered the room and froze as the tension rode over
him.
"So what do you usually eat?" the girl demanded,
hands on her hips
"Food" Youji replied.
Momiji's invisible hackles rose like an angry cat's fur.
"Instead of complaining, why don't you make yourself
useful"
"Excuse me?" The girl shut the fridge's door
with exaggerated care.
If Ken could've done it, he would've put a cork in Youji's
mouth.
"You're a woman. Cook"
Ken hid his face in his hand, stiffening a groan.
The girl's eyes flashed dangerously under the curtain
of hair that suddenly hid her face. If her stiff back
was any indication of what was to come, Ken feared for
Youji's life.
Momiji grabbed the nearest pot...
-Ken closed his eyes-
... and
started filling it with water, then took a couple of things
from the cabinet, muttering things such as "What
do you expect from a houseful of bachelors?"
Under their incredulous stares, Momiji was soon whipping
a meal out of the raw ingredients they hadn't even known
were in the house.
"Ready!" she announced with a smile, placing
a plate in front of Youji who regarded it with suspicion.
"Well? Eat up before it gets cold!" Momiji urged
him sweetly.
Relieved to see the others eating their meal without suffering
any side-effects, Youji picked up his fork and dug in.
Aya and Ken watched him wearily as his face suddenly paled
then turned to an unhealthy shade of red.
"What the matter Youji? Isn't it the way you like
it... spicy?" Momiji asked innocently.
Youji ran out the nearest door, with no breath to let
out his curses.
Momiji giggled happily while Aya and Ken exchanged a worried
glance.
Things were gonna be decidedly interesting with Momiji
in the house with them.
Momiji hesitated outside the door of the one member of
Weiss she hadn't fed yet. Having revenged herself on Youji
to her satisfaction-"You're a woman. Cook." Hah!-she had
realized that now Momoe-san was gone for the night no
one was going to see to it that Omi ate but her. So here
she was, trying to figure out how she should manage balancing
the tray while she opened the door.
She heard the muffled sound of a choked sniffle from inside
the room and shook her head. This was bad. There was something
eating away at that boy, and if none of them discovered
what was wrong soon, she didn't know what was going to
happen. Momiji freed one hand to turn the doorknob and
nudged the door open.
Omi rubbed his good hand quickly across his eyes and looked
up as she came in. His expression shifted into confused
as his eyes fell on her, then frightened as his mind registered
an unfamiliar face. Momiji could see him franticly trying
to think back, perhaps to try and dredge up some memory
of who she was. "I'm Momiji Yanagiya," she said quickly,
moving to set the tray on the small table by the side
of the bed. "Don't worry; I don't think you know me already.
I'm the one who brought you back here after you got hurt?"
She looked for some sign of understanding in Omi's eyes
and was relieved when he nodded slowly. "I'm going to
be with you guys for awhile. I was sent here to join up
with Weiss, at least temporarily. Here, look-I brought
you something to eat."
Omi glanced over at the food by the side of the bed. "Thanks…but-"
Momiji frowned. "But nothing. You'd better eat it, pal.
I'm gonna be mad if you don't even try, and you don't
want to piss off your new partner already, do you?"
That at least brought a shaky smile to Omi's face, but
it faded quickly. "No, not really," he admitted. "H-how're
the others?"
Momiji shrugged. "Fine, far as I can see. Worried about
you. No team is quite the same when one of its members
is out of commission. I can't take your place, Omi; no
one can. Weiss needs you back. So hurry up and get better,
okay?"
Omi blinked at her, looking surprised, then the bleak
look in his eyes faded a little. "Okay," he said, accepting
the tray of food she placed across his lap. "I'll try."
I'll try, Momiji thought to herself. Not I will,
but I'll try. Oh, well, it's better than nothing, isn't
it? He's willing to try and eat, at least, that's something.
"You'd better."
And he did try, she'd give him that. Omi struggled through
about half of what she'd made for him before he sank back
weakly against his pillows and shook his head. Momiji
was glad to see a bit more color in his pale cheeks and
reclaimed the tray, pleased with herself. It's better
than any of the others have done in pulling him out of
this. "That's good," she said. "Get some sleep now, all
right? And don't worry about anything."
Omi smiled a little again. "All right, Momiji-san." She
was almost to the door when he added, sleepily, "And thank
you."
"You're welcome," Momiji said softly, watching his eyes
close as he fell into sleep. She stepped out into the
hall and closed the door behind her as quietly as she
could.
"Hello, Manx," she said as soon as the door was closed,
just barely managing not to jump about a foot as she registered
the other woman's presence. "You want something?"
"I don't; Persia wants an interview. You're Yanagiya's
adopted daughter, right?"
Momiji grimaced. She did not like being reminded
of her adopted father in any way other than his capacity
as her boss. "If you can call it that, yes. Let's put
it this way-he's about as much my father as Persia is
Omi's. Just call him my boss, please?"
Manx raised an eyebrow but didn't comment on it. "All
right, then, if that's the way you want it." She gestured
at the room Momiji had just left. "How is he?"
"Getting better. He's basically off the drugs and I don't
think you're going to have to give him any Prozac, if
that's what you want to know."
"I wanted to know how he was doing." Manx's perfectly
made-up face had darkened just a little.
Momiji relented. After all, this woman seemed nice, nicer
than the go-betweens she'd worked with before, seemed
to actually care about the four members of Weiss and how
they were. "You could go in and check on him yourself,"
she suggested.
"I wouldn't want to wake him. He gets little enough sleep
as it is. Come on, then. Persia's waiting."
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