“…I’m a bit scared to ask what happened, if this is a recurring problem.”
“Oh, he’s… always stirring some kind of trouble. I’d like to think that it’s just an issue of semantics lost somewhere in translation, but to be honest, he has the same problem here in England, as well.”
“I’ll just have to face it… My baby boy is an ass.”
“Saguru James, if I get one more phone call about you being a pompous ass, I swear to god I will ground you until you graduate – from university!”
(took you long enough to notice) sweetheart, I’m not even your mom. I’m way too young to be a mom.
“You’re right! You’re not Mum at all!!!”
“Nope, that would be me, sweetheart! But she did a good job, I think.”
“All right… whatever. Mum, I really don’t want to do yoga. Especially not hot yoga.”
“Sorry, darling. Doctor’s orders. Besides, it’d be hard to go to Paris if you were dead, wouldn’t it?"
"I… suppose…”
Emi’s plans were never made very much ahead of time, so when she tried to run through her calendar for the week, nothing came to mind, “R-Right, Marion, I’ll remember that, eheh, I’m pretty much free all week…" Sweet girl, Emi dear, this lady sure seemed to know a bit more about the young journalist than she knew in return. But then, she’d probably done her research (and with a husband like that, her reach would be pretty far). Had she really been that impressed with the articles she’d done for local magazines? It wasn’t as if she’d been able to tie the Scarlet Feather publications to her… Right? Right.
It was still funny that she would be the one chosen for this, though. Shucks. (Emi seriously didn’t think she was nearly as charming as this lady believed).
"O-Oh, Miss Marion, are you—?" She was already off the line. Thank god she wasn’t in the same room as these people right now, because as soon as she realized that she was actually putting Saguru-sama on to discuss this (crazy, wild, amazing) unexpected plan, she turned red from underneath her cheekbones all the way up to the tips of her ears. "Eh, Hello?”
There was a moment more of silence before some shuffling and then, finally, “Ah- hello.”
It was the young detective himself, holding the phone against his ear while Marion lingered very close by, watching his every move. Hakuba held back a sigh of despair, pulling the corded phone a little further from the receiver so he could straighten up into a more comfortable stand.
“Himura-san? Ah, thank you for taking time out of your schedule to speak with me… Ah, please, allow me to first apologize for the, uhm, unusual nature of this… ah…”
“Saguru! Just talk to her! It’s NOT THAT HARD!" Marion hissed at him in a whisper loud enough that most of the household could hear it.
Hakuba rubbed at his forehead wearily. "Are you available tomorrow evening, perhaps? I should very much like to take you out about town if.. ah, if you’re interested…”
“Of course she’s interested! That was the whole point of the email, Saguru-chan!”
“…Ah, if you’re interested, Himura-san.”
♪♫*New Email Message*♫♪
Great. It was probably Iro ‘Where’s the new article O’great artist?’ ‘I’ven’t heard anything in days, did you finally get yourself killed? Can’t say I didn’t warn you, cheh.’ or something else of an editor’s usual disturbance, (needless to say, she was pulling her phone up with a less than optimistic attitude. But you’ll forgive that, she’d been out late working on just such a story, and was running on nothing but the glorious thing which was caffeinated tea). However, her tired eyes flickered more open, and mind veered to life when she realized that she didn’t recognize the sender. Strange. She didn’t give her email to many people. But it didn’t ring spammail- and it hadn’t been filtered out by her virus defender.
(Curiosity always got the better of her anyhow)
It took all of three seconds to reach the name ‘Marion Hakuba’ and in all honesty, the phone nearly dropped right out of her fingertips— (luckily, she treasured the item too much to let it fall. Cat like reflexes engaged), she caught it with some scrambling, breathing out and pulling it back up to eye level, determined to get to the message’s end this time, even if it meant holding her breath. And good on the young Himura, she made it that time. And promptly went back and read it over again, and again, and twice more over.
(It wasn’t even so much that she didn’t think it was credible, because everything looked in order about the message, it looked very professional and not at all suspicious— point was, she just didn’t understand what was happening, because all of her logical processors had, decidedly, quit. No two week notice, just up and whoosh gone they were)
Now, she’d interviewed him… once? Twice maybe, sent questions, nice emails (nearly fanmail, but still with a casual inquisitive nature), and they’d had various small virtual interactions, however… just how on Earth had this come about— He has agreed to my terms — now why in the world would he go and do that oh my goodness what how why what. Did mothers really do this? Seriously? It seemed so… invasive. But then she did call herself the meddling mother, so it seemed like she’d come to terms with the facts of the matter… And on at least a few points, she did understand. Emi’s American heritage and decidedly American appearance had done it’s fair share of alienating her when she was young, (it was her determination and later developed extroversion which earned her the friends she had), and certainly could make her feel a little displaced in some social situations. But Sagu- Hakuba-sama, didn’t seem the type to let that get in his way!
He was so charming, so suave and likable! (A little bit conceited sometimes, sure, but who wasn’t when they were that smart? Sheesh)— it didn’t make sense to her at all!..
Still…
An email had cropped up offering her a formal outing (date it was a date) with Saguru Hakuba— Even from just a professional standpoint, there was no way she should pass this up, right? (As if it was really her career choice that was governing this decision at all).
Was he really okay with it?..
….
*♪♫♪♫♪♪♪*
“Yes, eh, hello? Mrs. Hakuba— Hakuba-San— oh, rats, Madame Hakuba? Yes, I was calling about the email you sent me… As long as you’re certain that Saguru-sama- I mean, your son, is alright with the arrangement.. I’d very much like to be of any help that I can.”
“Oh yes, yes, yes, of course he’s all right with it! I’m so glad that you called, Emi dear. This is wonderful news. And please, call me Marion. Oh, such a sweet girl you are. What nights are you free this week? We’re unfortunately stuck doing a charity benefit this weekend, but would any other time be acceptable? Oh, perhaps I should have him talk to you and arrange this… I can’t meddle with every little detail, can I? Hee hee! Hold on, let me get him~”
Yes, Hakuba’s mother is in town and already digging through the poor young detective’s life with greedy hands. The following is an email sent on behalf of her despairing son.
—-
Dearest Emi,
I hope that this letter finds you well, as I am about to ask you for a very important favor. Of course, I completely understand if you’re not able to help, but I do believe that you are the best suited for the task. My name is Marion Hakuba, and I am the wife of the Superintendent General. Our son, Saguru, is a brilliant detective, as you are well aware, but appears to be… struggling in some areas.
To put it simply, he consistently overworks himself and does not leave any time for socializing. I’m not certain if this is because he really has so much work to do (I can’t blame his clients for needing him, but he should show some self-restraint), or if it because he simply does not feel that he fits in here in Japan. I do know that his mixed heritage is cause for some contention among his peers, but Saguru has never let it stop him before when it comes to his studies or work, so I cannot understand why he lacks the foresight to not let it effect his social life.
This said, I really am hoping that you can assist me. The favor that I am asking is for you to go on a formal outing with him. A date, really. He is aware of my intentions and has agreed to my terms, on condition that you be interested and not forced into it. (He’s very much enjoyed his correspondence with you thus far and, in his words, ‘would not tolerate [my] meddling’ with your current working relationship.)
Why he hasn’t asked you on a date himself by now is beyond me. I think he might secretly be painfully shy. I do know that he has consistently referred to himself as an introvert when I have pressed, and spends an inordinate amount of time reading when he could be interacting with those of his own age.
Which is why have I come to you, specifically. With an already established repertoire between the two of you, he is sure to open up… particularly as he is used to journalists and interviewers asking things of him. Your talent and brilliance will impress him, and your beauty (you are quite a darling thing, you know), is sure to engage.
I hope that this letter does not come across as insulting in any way, but rather as a plea for help. You would make a friend for life of me if you were willing to oblige. My dear darling son really is a sweetheart, but he needs a lot of help. Would you be willing to help draw him out of his shell?
Regardless of your answer, I do appreciate your time and attention. Please let me know as soon as you can by phone or by email; I won’t be in town for more than a couple of weeks and I would very much like to arrange the perfect evening for you both.
Sincerely yours,
Marion W. Hakuba
(The Meddling Mother)
