[Repost] Parts 8/9
“I can’t believe you let him spend the night with you.”
“We were going to send him home the next morning, okay?”
“Next morning? As in this morning? Because that sure doesn’t look like ‘sending him home’ to me."
Yousuke pointed at the small crowd that had gathered around the hotel's breakfast buffet. Teddie sat at its epicenter, surrounded by a small disaster's worth of plates, bowls, and half-finished food. And he still showed no signs of stopping. The other students from their trip clustered around him, including one Gekkoukan student who seemed to be particularly fascinated by him. "'ow is it zat you sparkle like zat? It iz sugoi, amazing!"
Teddie stopped scarfing muffins long enough to glimmer. "I could teach you," he said, practically glowing from the attention, "but I'd have to charge. Did I say that right, Kanji?"
"Huh?" Kanji's head snapped up. He definitely hadn't been examining the embroidery on the Gekkoukan student's messenger bag just now. "Oh, yeah. Right on."
Chie glared back at Yousuke. "He said he'd go back after breakfast! And it's not like there's any lack of food down here." She'd already helped herself to the stuff she'd recognized, even if a lot of the "breakfast" foods looked a lot more like dessert to her. Not that she was complaining! She just hoped Yukiko had found something that she wouldn't feel guilty about eating.
"Yeah, but -- " Yousuke shot another glance at the crowd. "He needs a sign or something. 'Do not feed the bear.'"
"Oh, give it a rest," Chie said, successfully resisting the urge to punch Yousuke in the shoulder. "We're on vacation, remember? Besides," she added, glancing at her watch, "there's still a another half hour before the chaperone is supposed to show up. We'll just grab him, get him up to one of our rooms, and ... "
Their Japanese chaperone chose that moment to burst into the room. "Hurry up, hurry up!" she said, trying to put on one of her earrings with one hand while the other adjusted her shirt. "It's ten-thirty! What are you doing? Stop eating breakfast and hurry up!"
Ten-what? Chie checked her watch again; she was sure she'd set it properly! "Yousuke, why didn't you tell me the right time last night?"
"What? Don't blame me!" He held out his own watch, which also read 9:30. "California's supposed to be like seventeen hours behind us. I checked."
"Um, did you remember to add in Daylight Savings Time?" asked Yukiko, sidling up to them. She was still holding a half-eaten bagel from breakfast. "I always forget about that."
"Daylight what?"
Chie could have facepalmed. She should have known there was something she'd forgotten. And meanwhile, their teacher counted students. "In the lobby, please," she said, gesturing for the three of them to follow. Chie nearly let out a groan; Teddie had already sparkled his way into the lobby with the rest of the students. "... ten, eleven," counted their teacher as they passed. A pause. "Eleven?"
"If he gets caught," grumbled Yousuke, "I say we disown him."
--
"Don't you worry about a thing, pal! I know a shortcut!"
"What?"
"Short-cut" was apparently the English word for "slam Doujima into the window yet again," because that was exactly what happened. The detective gritted his teeth and held onto the clothing hook for dear life. How had he gotten into this situation? Oh, right -- some idiot deciding it'd be a great idea to host a tour in the middle of a murder investigation. And to send the two detectives with the most work to do out to fetch the kids. "Slow down, dammit!" he yelled over the roar of traffic. "You wanna get us killed or something?"
His would-be partner, a great big lump of a man called Dick Gumshoe, gave him a clueless look. "Huh?"
Doujima held up a fist and mimed hitting it.
"Ohhh. Ha ha, guess ya don't need a phrasebook for that ..." said Gumshoe, drooping in his seat.
Gumshoe's Japanese was even worse than Doujima's English, but violence was a universal language. Doujima should have felt bad about that. He might have a couple months ago, but after meeting Prosecutor von Karma, he suddenly didn't feel so bad about the occasional threat. Besides, he’d already had his fill of bumbling, innocuous partners. He still couldn’t help but wince every time the man grinned; it reminded him entirely too much of Adachi. "Why?" he asked in English, gesturing roughly out the window.
His partner waved a hand. "Short-cut! 'cause, uh." They hit a trashcan, which sailed narrowly over the top of the car. "We're running kinda late."
"Late?" It was the only word Doujima had understand out of the entire sentence. He got the impression he didn't really need to understand the rest.
The car careened again, this time squealing out of the alleyway and back onto the street. For a brief, heart-stopping second, Doujima thought they were on the wrong side of the road. He was never going to get used to driving on the right side, especially with Gumshoe behind the wheel. "Kinda sorta. We're not doin' that bad, pal. And we'll be there in a coupla minutes," said Gumshoe, brightly.
"What? -- nevermind, I'll get the dictonary," said Doujima, grabbing it before Gumshoe could take his hands off the wheel. It was an ordinary pocket-sized dictionary, with hiragana for あ to ん scrawled along the sides for easy navigation. They'd already had several conversations that consisted mostly of looking things up in the dictionary and pointing. If not for Shirogane's help (and she was often busy with more important matters), this assignment would have been completely unbearable.
Before he could find the entry for "pal," the car jolted to an abrupt halt. Doujima muttered something under his breath and rubbed his head. "Done?" he said in English.
"Safe and sound!" said Gumshoe. He seemed very proud of the fact that he'd almost killed them both. Waving for Doujima to follow, he headed up to the front of the hotel.
Doujima stepped slowly out of the car and tried very hard not to hate the world. The world was making it very difficult at the moment, what with the way it insisted on spinning while he walked. He braced himself against the car before following Gumshoe in.
“We were going to send him home the next morning, okay?”
“Next morning? As in this morning? Because that sure doesn’t look like ‘sending him home’ to me."
Yousuke pointed at the small crowd that had gathered around the hotel's breakfast buffet. Teddie sat at its epicenter, surrounded by a small disaster's worth of plates, bowls, and half-finished food. And he still showed no signs of stopping. The other students from their trip clustered around him, including one Gekkoukan student who seemed to be particularly fascinated by him. "'ow is it zat you sparkle like zat? It iz sugoi, amazing!"
Teddie stopped scarfing muffins long enough to glimmer. "I could teach you," he said, practically glowing from the attention, "but I'd have to charge. Did I say that right, Kanji?"
"Huh?" Kanji's head snapped up. He definitely hadn't been examining the embroidery on the Gekkoukan student's messenger bag just now. "Oh, yeah. Right on."
Chie glared back at Yousuke. "He said he'd go back after breakfast! And it's not like there's any lack of food down here." She'd already helped herself to the stuff she'd recognized, even if a lot of the "breakfast" foods looked a lot more like dessert to her. Not that she was complaining! She just hoped Yukiko had found something that she wouldn't feel guilty about eating.
"Yeah, but -- " Yousuke shot another glance at the crowd. "He needs a sign or something. 'Do not feed the bear.'"
"Oh, give it a rest," Chie said, successfully resisting the urge to punch Yousuke in the shoulder. "We're on vacation, remember? Besides," she added, glancing at her watch, "there's still a another half hour before the chaperone is supposed to show up. We'll just grab him, get him up to one of our rooms, and ... "
Their Japanese chaperone chose that moment to burst into the room. "Hurry up, hurry up!" she said, trying to put on one of her earrings with one hand while the other adjusted her shirt. "It's ten-thirty! What are you doing? Stop eating breakfast and hurry up!"
Ten-what? Chie checked her watch again; she was sure she'd set it properly! "Yousuke, why didn't you tell me the right time last night?"
"What? Don't blame me!" He held out his own watch, which also read 9:30. "California's supposed to be like seventeen hours behind us. I checked."
"Um, did you remember to add in Daylight Savings Time?" asked Yukiko, sidling up to them. She was still holding a half-eaten bagel from breakfast. "I always forget about that."
"Daylight what?"
Chie could have facepalmed. She should have known there was something she'd forgotten. And meanwhile, their teacher counted students. "In the lobby, please," she said, gesturing for the three of them to follow. Chie nearly let out a groan; Teddie had already sparkled his way into the lobby with the rest of the students. "... ten, eleven," counted their teacher as they passed. A pause. "Eleven?"
"If he gets caught," grumbled Yousuke, "I say we disown him."
--
"Don't you worry about a thing, pal! I know a shortcut!"
"What?"
"Short-cut" was apparently the English word for "slam Doujima into the window yet again," because that was exactly what happened. The detective gritted his teeth and held onto the clothing hook for dear life. How had he gotten into this situation? Oh, right -- some idiot deciding it'd be a great idea to host a tour in the middle of a murder investigation. And to send the two detectives with the most work to do out to fetch the kids. "Slow down, dammit!" he yelled over the roar of traffic. "You wanna get us killed or something?"
His would-be partner, a great big lump of a man called Dick Gumshoe, gave him a clueless look. "Huh?"
Doujima held up a fist and mimed hitting it.
"Ohhh. Ha ha, guess ya don't need a phrasebook for that ..." said Gumshoe, drooping in his seat.
Gumshoe's Japanese was even worse than Doujima's English, but violence was a universal language. Doujima should have felt bad about that. He might have a couple months ago, but after meeting Prosecutor von Karma, he suddenly didn't feel so bad about the occasional threat. Besides, he’d already had his fill of bumbling, innocuous partners. He still couldn’t help but wince every time the man grinned; it reminded him entirely too much of Adachi. "Why?" he asked in English, gesturing roughly out the window.
His partner waved a hand. "Short-cut! 'cause, uh." They hit a trashcan, which sailed narrowly over the top of the car. "We're running kinda late."
"Late?" It was the only word Doujima had understand out of the entire sentence. He got the impression he didn't really need to understand the rest.
The car careened again, this time squealing out of the alleyway and back onto the street. For a brief, heart-stopping second, Doujima thought they were on the wrong side of the road. He was never going to get used to driving on the right side, especially with Gumshoe behind the wheel. "Kinda sorta. We're not doin' that bad, pal. And we'll be there in a coupla minutes," said Gumshoe, brightly.
"What? -- nevermind, I'll get the dictonary," said Doujima, grabbing it before Gumshoe could take his hands off the wheel. It was an ordinary pocket-sized dictionary, with hiragana for あ to ん scrawled along the sides for easy navigation. They'd already had several conversations that consisted mostly of looking things up in the dictionary and pointing. If not for Shirogane's help (and she was often busy with more important matters), this assignment would have been completely unbearable.
Before he could find the entry for "pal," the car jolted to an abrupt halt. Doujima muttered something under his breath and rubbed his head. "Done?" he said in English.
"Safe and sound!" said Gumshoe. He seemed very proud of the fact that he'd almost killed them both. Waving for Doujima to follow, he headed up to the front of the hotel.
Doujima stepped slowly out of the car and tried very hard not to hate the world. The world was making it very difficult at the moment, what with the way it insisted on spinning while he walked. He braced himself against the car before following Gumshoe in.