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"Seven angels, seven demons"GODDAMN YOU USUBA! I'll get you for this!" the primate screams as he charges at me. Junte is captain of the junior varsity wrestling team, a lot bigger and stronger than I am (not that that's particularly impressive, everybody in the school is a lot bigger and stronger than me), failing just about everything academic, and an insult to primates everywhere.
battle for his soul."
--Moon Child, Iron Maiden
He's a little upset at me because I gave him a very steamy love letter (addressed to our teacher) instead of the homework he thought I was giving him. (What? You thought I was gay or something? Sorry to disappoint my fellow hentai, but I definitely don't bend that way. Masada "Straight as an arrow" Usuba, that's me.)
Tsendo-sensei was not amused when Junte handed that letter in sight unseen, no surprise there. How such a beautiful woman can be a completely humorless stick-in-the-mud is beyond even my comprehension.
On the other hand, Junte did disappoint me. All I did was help him give voice to his (poorly) hidden love and he repays me by trying to introduce me to my next life. I even used his handwriting so that our devastatingly gorgeous geography professor would think that the missing link had a romantic side.
There's just no pleasing some people.
I turn and run as fast as I could away from Junte, not that I'm at all afraid of him, of course. I could out run him with my shoes tied together and a twenty-kilo pack strapped to my back (one of the many drawbacks to a monstrously huge upper body like Junte's: a slightly reduced running speed).
I'm about half way up the first hill when I hear the sounds of frantic petteling coming closer. I risk a glance behind me and sure enough Junte and his two yes-men are slowly making their way towards me, petteling for all they're worth. Not good.
Unfortunately, dad got it in his head that sprinting the two mostly uphill miles home would be good practice for the track team. My father is kind of a physical fitness psychopath. This keeps me from bringing my own bike and easily beating these guys. I should have remembered that before I gave cro-magnum boy that letter. My great intellect seems to be on a holiday.
I turn down a long garbage filled alley, hoping that'll slow them down. I risk another look over my shoulder, they haven't even made the turn yet, and I...
...run face first into a dead end, brick wall. I gasp in pain as I feel blood running from my nose down my chin. I look up at the wall, a dumb expression on my face. That wasn't there yesterday!
A distant yell of, "He ducked in here," snaps me back to the present and I consider my situation. Overhead I see dark clouds, the sky's been threatening rain for the past couple of days, making it pretty dark in this alley, hmmm, I am wearing a black uniform, maybe I can hide somewhere.
Pausing for a second, I hear their voices getting closer as I run my hand over the wall. I stop when my hand runs over something odd. A door knob maybe? I grab it and twist, turn, pull, push, and yank on it to no avail. Damn! Damn! Damn!
What would Kusanagi do in this situation? Ghost-hack the lock and make a brilliant escape, probably with a lot of collateral damage and a high body count. Smart and beautiful, too rare a combination. She doesn't exist though, very tragic.
I turn away from the door and start looking for a place to hide. If I can get deep enough in shadow, they'll probably just walk by and I can sneak out. I'm judging whether or not I'll fit behind a dumpster when I hear a soft click.
Was that the door latch? YES! I run through the open door, almost barreling over the old man while he was taking out some empty boxes.
I dive past the man as he rights himself, a bemused grin on his face as he sees my pursuers. He tosses the boxes in the dumpster by the door and reenters the building, closing the door behind him. He turns to me and gives me a wink, "Don't want any young hoodlums barging in here and causing damage, do we?" as he locks the door.
I don't say anything, I seem to have lost my breath, must be getting out of shape.
He smiles as he watches me struggle to get my heart beat back down to jackhammer level. "Welcome to my humble antique shop. I am Fa Mi, proprietor, clerk, chief cook and bottle washer, and locker of doors for this fine establishment." He gestures grandly at the shelves in the room around us.
"You know, that wall I crashed into wasn't here yesterday," I comment as I rub my bruised nose. It's stopped bleeding and is just sore now. Don't think it's broken. "Is this place new?"
Mi smiles, "Yes, construction ended just this morning. I was fortunate to have finished unloading by the time my first customer arrived."
Belatedly, I remember that they were constructing a new building to replace the old sushi bar that went out of business, but I was too busy running to and from school to pay much attention. Yep, the old gray matter was definitely out to lunch today.
I glance at the shelves, most of them are filled with plain shipping boxes, but several have already been unpacked and set up in displays. Ceramic vases, small statues, plates, silverware, chopsticks, Celtic knots, embroideries, and many things I couldn't even identify sat artfully arranged on the shelves, but no price tags.
"Where are the prices listed?" I ask as I admire a particularly intricate pattern on a pair of ornate ivory chopsticks.
He rubs his chin with a gnarled hand; "I haven't priced most of them yet. Why? Has something caught your eye?"
Actually, no. Nothing I thought I could afford on the fifteen hundred odd yen in my pocket anyway. I turn around to say so when I notice it on the top shelf above Fa Mi's head, half-hidden by a very nice set of dashio. I point and ask, "How much for that dragon statue?"
Fa Mi carefully takes down the statue and we study it for a moment. It is a dull gray iron Lung coiled around what must be a huge scepter if it was life sized. The scepter itself is about the same size as a ballpoint pen. The Lung's eyes are closed, like he is sleeping. Dragons do that a lot, or so I'm told.
Fa Mi runs his finger through his wispy beard in thought, "I really don't know what I should charge you for this. It's one of the pieces I haven't been able to catalog, so normally I wouldn't sell it quite yet."
Damn. I don't know why I wanted that statue, I don't even know how I spotted it, it's not exactly flashy. I just knew I needed it, like a magnet needs iron.
Days later, I would look back on that off-hand analogy and not know whether to laugh or cry.
"On the other hand," Fa Mi continued, "it's not likely to get cataloged any time soon with all the work of running a shop, and I can't disappoint my first customer. It's just not done... What do you think would be a fair price?"
I examine the statue closer. The attention to detail is quite stunning, making a coil of iron easily the most lifelike work I have ever seen. The staff seems to be jade, or at least partially anyway, with the dragon in the way it's hard to tell, making it a semi-precious stone. "I'd say, in my very inept opinion, three thousand yen."
Fa Mi nods, "Very close to the figure I was entertaining. Do we have a deal?"
I let out the sign I was holding, "No. I've only got fifteen hundred yen on me." Damn my little broken bank account.
He frowns for a moment, then brightens, "Let me propose an alternative then, you give me your fifteen hundred and you can work of your debt on the weekends after school, say two hours Saturday and three Sunday for 3 weekends. I'll even pay you 200 yen an hour."
My mouth must have been open, because I had to shut it. That's a good deal. That's a really good deal, especially to offer someone you just met. That's too good a deal. "What's the catch?" I inquire, trying not to sound too suspicious.
He laughs and answers, "The catch is: there's some heavy lifting involved. Some of my antiques are quite large and I'm afraid that my poor old bones aren't quite up to the task." He rubs his back for emphasis.
I try not to snort, and fail miserably (but cleverly manage to disguise it as a cough). He may not be in as good a shape as my dad, but he's not exactly ready for a wheel chair either. Still, it was a great deal, but I got to keep my cool, "When do I start?" I blurt out. Good to know that the Masada smooth ran true.
"This Saturday, be here at one."
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