Kyoko
wondered why Noriko and Urufu were late, and she was on the verge of
asking when the doorbell chimed again and they came inside.
The
ancient air conditioning unit coughed asthmatically in a futile
protest when hot and humid air welled in, and most of those present
agreed with apathetic nods. In a few weeks everyone should be used to
summer temperatures, but right now most looked like they longed for
the wetness of just a handful of days ago.
Those
not overcome by apathy shared two tables with a quintet of surprise
guests. A surprise to everyone but Urufu, Kyoko suspected.
She
glanced at the tables where two Tokyoites, who had spent enough time
in Sweden to share inside jokes with two girls and a boy who were
most definitely not Japanese, made an attempt to translate questions
and answers from all parties. After a while most seemed to agree
English was a good enough compromise, to the dismay of the first year
club members.
Urufu
barked something in Swedish, and all five guests turned their faces
in surprise. One of them, a girl short enough to have to tip toe even
in Japan, grinned and responded with a big grin on her face after she
delivered her answering words.
“What
was that about?” Kyoko heard Noriko say from the position beside
Urufu she monopolised whenever she had the chance.
“He
said that Santa Claus wondered if there were any nice kids here, and
Jenny told him he’d better grow a beard first,” the female of the
two Japanese born guests said.
Japanese
born, because her entire outfit was distinctly western, showing way
more skin than was proper from someone with the looks of a classic
Japanese beauty. She might look Japanese, but Kyoko knew she
had spent enough years in that strange country of Urufu’s to be
anything but. She was also the former student council president of
that Swedish high school, or chairman of the students’ union as she
preferred to call it.
“Where’s
your club chairman?” she said.
“And
you are?” Urufu answered.
Kyoko
looked at the two of them, then at Noriko, who’s lips turned into a
disapproving smirk, and then back at Urufu again.
“Rika.
I’m Rika Uchida.”
Uchida Rika?
She even uses the western style for her own name. Rika-sempai I
guess.
“Ulf
Hammargren, pleased to meet you. Christina’s working today, so I’m
afraid you’ll have to do with me as club representative.”
Rika-sempai
shrugged, just the way Urufu and Kuri used to. “I don’t care.
Just thought it was polite to ask for her.”
And that was
just about as far from polite as you could be.
Urufu
grinned and grabbed a chair. As he sat down Noriko took one for
herself and sat down beside him.
Kyoko
noticed Rika-sempai’s amused smile. “Girlfriend?” She said.
“No,”
Urufu said.
“Not
yet,” Noriko added.
“You
like him that much?”
“Enough
not to hand him over to you.”
“Oh,
gutsy. I like that.” Rika-sempai grinned. “Don’t worry. I’m
not interested in kids.”
“He’s
not...”
“Noriko,
she’s not competition, so just drop it!” Kyoko interrupted before
Noriko had a chance to say something most of those present weren’t
supposed to hear.
She
felt Yukio clasp her hand, and closer to a year together with him had
taught her how to read his thoughts from the way he touched her. This
time she read firm approval.
Rika-sempai
exchanged looks with the other Tokyo born guest, Hasegawa Jun,
Ai-chan’s big brother.
“See,
they’re the same here as well.”
Huh?
Jun-sempai
smiled and turned to the other male guest. “Alexander, maybe
there’s hope for you as well,” he said in English.
“I
wouldn’t bet on it,” Rika-sempai said. “Besides, shouldn’t
that mean there’s hope for Emma as well,” she added and grinned
at a girl who had mostly stayed silent since the five of them
suddenly arrived in the café less than half an hour earlier.
“Chance?”
Ai-chan said from a table she shared with Nana-chan.
“Eh,”
Jun-sempai said and grinned sheepishly. “It’s a bit of a mess.
See, Alexander is in love with Rika, which everyone back home knows,
and Emma’s in love with Alexander, which also everyone knows.
Oh dear!
“And
they’re all very good friends ever since Emma more or less forced
Rika to share a, eh, what’s the word, ‘fika’ we call it, with
Alexander.
Fika,
I know that word. The date that’s not a date, where you drink
coffee even though you don’t have to drink coffee. And just
like ‘fika’, Jun-sempai’s explanation made no sense at all.
Urufu
coughed loud enough to have everyone stare at him, which was probably
a good thing since both Emma-sempai and Alexander-sempai had turned
beet red during Jun-sempai’s little speech. “Lemme see if I got
this right. The kid over there,” Urufu nodded at Emma-sempai, “is
in love with him,” and shot Alexander-sempai a grin, “so she
arranged a date between him and her rival?” At the last word Urufu
bowed ironically to Rika-sempai.
The
five guests exchanged looks between themselves, and almost as if
reaching and agreement they said more or less in chorus: “Yes.”
Urufu
shook his head. “You’re strange all of you. I admit utter
defeat.”
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