Characters:
Standard three, no NPCs.
Warnings: Far too much
dialogue.
Omi and Nancy had scrubbed down and were soaking in one of the large tubs by the time Nagi made it back downstairs. Frighteningly enough, the hot water seemed to be making the little girl more alert, as she was babbling at great speed about the exercises her sensei had had her do that evening. Babbling with great speed, and a fair amount of incoherency. Her father was smiling and nodding, and planning on asking Nagi for a recap later.
Nagi listened idly as he took off the light robe he was wearing and folded it, setting it neatly to one side. Wrapping a towel around his hips, he scrubbed down thoroughly, stripping the day's grime from his skin. Once done, he settled into the steaming water of the second tub with a sigh, enjoying the chance for a leisurely soak. "Thank you, Tsukiyono-san. This is just what we needed, I think."
"I frequently end up feeling the same way by the end of the day, Naoe-san. I believe this room is the single best investment I've made in my life," Omi replied, smiling as Nancy flipped around so she could babble at her sensei instead.
"And I don't really know yet what I was doin' tonight, but I think I'll figure it out, won't I, Naoe-sensei, sir? I didn't completely miss the point, did I?"
"Not completely, no," Nagi said wryly. "And I'm sure you'll figure it out. You have good control for someone your age." Someone her age who wasn't trained, but that was beside the point, and would only depress her. "Remember, we're just starting out. There's a lot you can learn once you have the basics down." He tipped his head back against the edge of the tub, and wiggled his toes under the water.
Offended on her father's behalf, Nancy began indignantly spluttering, "I know the basics! Omi-poppa taught me those! How--" 'Omi-poppa' cut her off with a gentle hand over her mouth.
"Hush, chibi. I did my best to help you figure out a few things, and get that control of yours Naoe-san just praised. But that was work you mostly did yourself, and you need to remember that I was working blind. Listen to what your sensei tells you." Omi shot a rueful grin at Nagi. He hadn't planned on this, either. It was probably another reason to be glad the other man was willing to teach Nance now; he hadn't even known what a tangled explosion-in-waiting he'd been sitting on!
Nagi lifted one shoulder in an offhand shrug. "Tsukiyono-san is correct. You've worked hard at some of the basics, the..." he searched for a word, "--'outside' skills. But you need to work just as hard at the less obvious basics as well. The 'inside' skills." Lifting a hand out of the water, he tapped at his chest, over his heart. "If you don't strengthen those, well...a house without a foundation isn't very strong, is it?"
Blinking at him in confusion, still frowning, Nancy twisted around to face Omi as soon as he removed his hand. "Omi-poppa, what's an 'inside skill'?"
Her father put his hand on the top of her head and shook her slightly. "Enough, Nancy," he growled. "I said, listen to your sensei. He knows about these things, and I do not. This is a natural consequence of my not having as much psychic Talent as the average paving stone, and he is not insulting my honour!"
A bit sulkily, the little girl said, "Yessir," and looked at Nagi again. "What is an 'inside skill', sir? I don't understand what you mean."
Rolling his head to look at her, Nagi asked, "Haven't you ever wondered where your power comes from?"
"Well, yeeesss, but. ." here Nancy darted a quick look at her father, and said hesitantly, "but Omi-poppa could never answer those sorts of questions, and I didn't have anyone else to ask. ."
Carefully evaluating her mood under the cover of dramatically rolling his eyes, Omi relaxed as he realized that Nance was at least willing to think about accepting that it was really okay for her to have a Talent-sensei, and learn from him. Closing his eyes and settling himself more comfortably against the wall of the furo, he said tartly, "Well, now you do, chibi. There might be a logical progression here, ne?"
Grinning a little, the little girl ducked her head and said softly, "It's theori..retical-ly possible, I suppose..." Looking up at Nagi, she obediently parroted, "Where does it come from?" Her intense curiosity shone through the playful posing.
"Remember what I was telling you earlier? About your power coming from your chi?" Nagi gave her a serious look. "That's part of it. Your power all comes from in here-" he tapped his chest again "-your chi, or your life force. And you only have so much of it. If you learn how to sense that, then you can use it better and more efficiently. You can do lots of things right now with your power--but it tires you out, doesn't it?" He gave her a tiny smile. "When you've seen me do things with my power--do I look tired afterwards?"
Wide-eyed, Nancy shook her head. "Nosir, but I thought that was because you're ol...a grownup," she corrected herself diplomatically. Looking suddenly intent, the little girl bit at her lower lip. "Is that why it's so hard to move the feeder mice, without 'burning' them? I have to concentrate really hard, or being 'grabbed' hurts them. I thought it was just because they're alive...but do I really do it differently when I move them?" It's obvious she's fascinated at the idea of her power being something variable, that she can actually affect.
Eyes still closed, Omi grinned madly at the ceiling. He would still 'test' Nancy, of course. . . a lot of his tests weren't so much trials of her Talent as they were ways of training her to think and react to unexpected situations. As such, they still fell under his purview, although he should probably start checking before he did anything major. But the child's dizzying leaps of logic, incomprehensibly twisted trains of thought, impulsiveness, and constant desire to do more, learn more, all now. . . it was aaaaaallll Nagi's problem now.
"Partially. Mostly though, you're using way too much energy when you try to move things. Normal people can't tell, of course, but it's pretty obvious to another telekinetic. That's why you end up 'burning' the feeder mice, or getting tired after trying to sense where things are. You're doing what you set out to do, but you're throwing energy all over the place when you do it." Nagi noticed Tsukiyono grinning, his face turned upwards, but let it slide without comment. He wasn't sure what Tsukiyono found so entertaining about this, but he found he was too comfortable to object.
"That's the other part of inside skills, of course." This time he tapped his forehead with a dripping finger. "Your telekinesis is controlled by your mind. The better you can concentrate and feel your power, the more you'll find you can do with it. Especially once you stop thinking in terms of what everyone else thinks you can do."
The little girl looked blank. "Feel my power?"
Omi lifted his head to look at Nance, then at Nagi. Hmmm.
Nagi nodded. "Feeling it. It's just like knowing when you're hungry or thirsty, or when you're tired and need to sleep. It just requires a little more attention. But as we start working with your telekinesis, you should be able to start feeling how much power you're using on something, and how much you have left." He arched an eyebrow at her. "That way you know what you can do with your telekinesis without actually falling over at the end." Which was a phenomenally bad idea in any kind of dangerous situation...but he'd mention that later.
Closing his eyes briefly, Omi offered a silent prayer of thanks. That was the part of Nancy's Talent that had always terrified him, the way she would end up exhausted and near-helpless. He knew it didn't have to be like that, but the only thing he'd been able to think of, to do, was encourage her to work to the point of collapse every so often, in the hopes of somehow building her stamina.
"Not falling over would be nice," Nancy said wistfully. Then she blinked. "Hey. Wait a minute." Twisting around, she took Omi by surprise with a fierce look. "No fair!"
Nagi blinked, startled by the sudden outburst. He didn't think she was actually angry, though... Hopefully after a week or two he'd actually get used to Nancy's mercurial shifts in mood.
Looking blank, her father demanded, "What isn't fair, you incomprehensible child?"
Still looking fierce, Nancy said accusingly, "Naoe-sensei said you and he used to fight all the time! I'm not allowed to fight!"
Nagi fought off a sudden grin. Oh. That. He had a feeling that was going to come back to haunt him--or more accurately, Tsukiyono. It would be interesting to see how he edited the Weiss/Schwarz battles for the underage audience...
"'Naoe-sensei said,' did he?" Omi said dryly, shooting the other man a slightly baleful look. "**Might this one ask why such a thing was said?**" The sudden switch to formal Japanese wouldn't distract Nancy, and would be good practice. . . and if he was going to have to open the door on that tangled mess, he wanted the advantage of a language designed for polite imprecision on his side!
The little girl opened her mouth, but her father held up a hand. "**The question was for your sensei, child.**" Subsiding, Nancy waited impatiently. She hated when Omi-poppa went all Japanese on her...he was impossible!
Nagi smirked. "**Naoe-sensei was simply pointing out that Tsukiyono-san knows what I can do, and would have every reason to be afraid of me--but isn't.**" He arched an eyebrow, trying very hard not to add any commentary about what that said about Weiss' general intelligence level. "**And therefore I found it very hard to believe that Nancy-kun could do anything that would scare him away.**"
Blinking, Omi considered that. "**Acceptable reasoning,**" was his calmly delivered verdict. "**Thank you, Naoe-san**" Nancy ducked her head at this additional evidence that her father was not frightened by her or her Talent, blinking hard, and the young assassin turned back to her. "I'm under no obligation to be fair to you, chibi," he pointed out gently, sounding amused, "I'm the adult. But there is a reason. Nance, who gets in the most trouble, with witch-sensei?"
Looking up, appearing startled, Nancy suddenly frowned. "This is where we go around in circles and you turn a simple question into some sort of lesson for me, isn't it?"
Nagi suppressed a snicker. Definitely too smart for her own good.
Grinning broadly, Omi said cheerfully, "Of course it is, chibi. That's in the contract, as well. Page seventeen, subsection E3. The question is awaiting an answer, if you please."
Nancy made a disgusted face, and considered calling Omi-poppa on that contract nonsense. But. . . he still hadn't reused or messed up a page-and-section reference. . . slumping back into the water, the child huffed out an exasperated breath and sing-songed, "John, Willy, Mark, Tab, Joe, me, Ann, Roger. . . how many do you want, Omi-poppa?"
"That will do." Tilting his head back against the edge, he confirmed, "That list was in order, Nance?"
"Yessir. Most trouble first?" "Good. Now." Very casually. "Who causes witch-sense the most problems?"
There was a moment of rather guilty silence, while a little girl fidgeted. "Um." Glancing uncertainly from her father, who appeared to be ignoring her, to her sensei, Nancy stared at her fingers. They were starting to wrinkle. "Me? And Tab. We're sorta tied. Then Roger. And John, Willy, Mark, Ann, then Joe, I guess."
Nancy's in the top two, eh? I wonder where Tsukiyono is going with this? Sinking deeper into the water, Nagi listened idly.
"So why aren't you in trouble more than the others? Doesn't witch-sensei notice that you're an imp?" Raising his head, Omi grinned affectionately at Nance.
"Oh, she notices," the child grumbled, "she watches me like a hawk, even when I'm not doing anything! Well, whenever she has a chance," and here Nancy rolled her eyes. "Those stupid boys keep her busy breaking up their fi..ghts...." Openmouthed, she stared at her father, who smiled at her encouragingly, but held his tongue so she'd have the chance to work it out.
Nagi hid his slight smirk. He was actually a bit surprised Nancy hadn't worked this out for herself already, but then, she was still young.
I wonder if that's really the only reason he won't let her fight, he thought cynically.
"She knows I can cause more trouble. . . but witch-sensei has to pay more attention to the fights," Nancy said slowly. "Because. . she's responsible. Like those, um, the papers you always have to sign, for my gymnastics tournaments? Saying you wouldn't sue if I got hurt..."
"Waivers?" Omi supplied quietly.
"Yeah. There's no waivers, for school. If some other kid got hurt in a fight, witch-sensei would get in a lot of trouble, wouldn't she?"
Omi nodded, and leaned back. "She would indeed. There are a lot of people in the world who are, or feel they are, responsible for making sure others don't get hurt. It's easy to use that; you've done it yourself, without realizing it."
She has? Nagi wondered if it was another example of that budding strategic mind, or just a child's manipulation of an adult coming to the fore.
"So..." Nancy sounded tentative. "You don't want me to fight, because I'd get noticed?"
Her father smiled wryly up at the ceiling. "That's part of it, chibi. People with secrets, well, getting noticed is not a good thing. Another part has to do with why Naoe-san and I used to fight." At the sudden splash, he looked up and raised an eyebrow. "What, did you think I'd forgotten where we started?"
Nagi leaned back in his tub and contemplated the ceiling. Listening to Tsukiyono explain the Weiss vs. Schwarz Dynamic, Chibi edition, should be vastly entertaining. Plus he had to admit he was curious how the former Weiss assassin perceived their battles.
This should be good.
"I used to do a lot of fighting, chibi," Omi said quietly. "It got really bad when I was a few years older than you, and someone did notice. They decided that since I was so good at fighting, I should fight for them. They convinced me that it would be a good thing to do, because I'd be stopping bad people from hurting innocent ones."
Nancy was staring, wide-eyed, so stunned that her mouth hung open slightly. Omi-poppa used to fight that much???
Glancing over to see how his story was being received, her father had to chuckle. "Maybe this is the point where, as an adult, I'm supposed to tell you that it was all a mistake, and that I shouldn't have done it at all. But I'm not going to do that, Nance. Sometimes, people need to be stopped, and fighting can do that. Usually there are other ways; ways that don't get you noticed as easily."
Vague, reworked for a happy ending and the assumption of choices, with a ton of gloss on the top. Nagi had to suppress another chuckle. Why am I not surprised? At least Nancy seemed to be swallowing it. This was most likely a good thing. He didn't think Tsukiyono wanted to try to explain to his adopted daughter that not only did he kill people, he'd been doing it since he was close to her age. And that her new 'Naoe-sensei' had been a professional child-killer as well. Talk about teaching all the wrong lessons...
Finally getting her mouth working right again, the wide-eyed little girl demanded, "What happened next?" She didn't care about adults and their rules, she wanted to hear about Omi-poppa fighting!
Omi sounded a lot more grim as he answered simply, "Someone else noticed, Nance. Someone else who decided to use me, and some other people I was running with at the time." He realized that made Weiss sound rather like a gang. . . but frankly, better to let her make that assumption than have to come up with an explanation of his own. His creativity was stalling out when it came to an acceptable way to rephrase "use me and the other assassins I was leading at the time. . . "
From the way his daughter's mouth was moving, but nothing was coming out, the contract killer/hacker figured the assumed connections were being made, and fought the urge to laugh.
Admittedly Schwarz had never had a full amount of background information on Weiss, but the story Tsukiyono was telling Nancy seemed a bit...backward. More simplification for the underage audience? he wondered, closing his eyes. Or is he telling the truth, and Kritiker recruited him after he started killing? He doubted very much that Tsukiyono had been given any more choice in the matter than he had, either way--no matter how young they had been.
Oblivious to the conclusions Nagi was drawing, Omi continued his story, grateful that he'd had the bones of it prepared for an occasion such as this. Nagi may have had a good, valid reason for bringing the matter up. . . but Omi still wished he could get away with one good punch.
"That would be where Naoe-san enters, Nance. He was with those people, and was part of the group that led me and mine around by the nose for almost a year." Despite everything, the young man sounded ruefully amused. "It wasn't even particularly difficult, I'm sorry to say. We'd given up so much control over our lives already, that we didn't have a lot of ways to fight back. And given Naoe-san wasn't the only one with a Talent, we were, perhaps, just a tad under-prepared. . ." A faint splashing accompanied his shrug. "They had their goals, and we were a convenient tool they could use, to accomplish them. Because we were noticeable, and obvious in our motivations, we made a convenient foil."
By now, Nancy was clinging to the edge of the furo, so that she could look dubiously at both men. "But. . . I don't get it. I mean, not the part you're hitting me over the head with, Omi-poppa, I get that, really." The little girl rolled her eyes, which made Omi grin. He could tell that she had gotten the point, and knowing she'd be thinking about it was enough for now. "
"I just don't understand why you're friends!"
Oh, so he was talking about Schwarz, and not Kritiker, Nagi had been thinking, and so Nancy's last statement caught him off guard. His eyes flew open, startled, and he stared blankly at the girl. Friends? US?
"We're not," he stated flatly. He hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Tsukiyono and trying to gauge his reaction. What do I say? We're not enemies anymore, but....we could be again in the future. Should I even try to explain that?
"But. . ." The little girl gave Nagi a cautious look. "I don't. . ." Helplessly, she looked back to her father. "I don't understand, Omi-poppa. If you're not friends. . .then why did you tell him my secret? Why did you say he was safe?" Nancy wasn't afraid, exactly, because she knew Omi-poppa had a reason. But she didn't have any idea what that reason would be, and so she didn't know what she was supposed to be doing, to make things work right.
Sensing his daughter's distress, Omi pulled her over and gave her a light hug. "Naoe-san's right, Nance, we aren't exactly friends. But sometimes, what you are isn't as important as what you're not." He smiled at the look she gave him. "No, I'm not being deliberately vague, chibi. We're not friends, but that's just because we don't have any reason to be friends. We're not enemies any more, because we don't have any reason for that, either. What we fought over wasn't personal, and it was a long time ago. If you can let it go, that sort of thing doesn't always have to matter, later."
Nagi nodded, pleased at Tsukiyono's smooth handling of their sticky past. "We're not....friends," he said slowly, feeling his way along. "But we're both older, and don't have any reason to fight anymore." Not with Estet gone, and Schwarz free... Maybe if I see Nancy again when she's older, I'll explain what Estet could have done to her. "And...people with our Talent are very rare. There aren't a lot of people who could teach you what you needed to know. So when Tsukiyono-san asked, I came." He shrugged slightly, water splashing at the movement.
"And I asked Naoe-san to come, specifically, in part because we used to fight. Or, at least, because of why. Both of us were used by others, who didn't want to have to fight themselves. And neither of us liked it one little bit. So I know that, if something happens in the future and suddenly Naoe-san and I really aren't friends, he'll leave you out of it."
The look he gave Nagi was cool, and clearly communicated that while he meant what he was saying, he was going to be proven correct, or he would find a way to make the telekinetic regret it, outclassed or not. Fortunately, Nancy didn't see, being too occupied with scowling down at her feet.
"I don't know if I understand or not, Omi-poppa. If I have to try and figure out some weird adult thought process, can I do it while I'm eating?" She sounded more than a bit pathetic.
Assuming a lot, aren't you, Tsukiyono? Nagi thought darkly, eyes freezing over as he continued to watch the older man. He didn't take well to threats, even unspoken ones. The fact that Tsukiyono was most likely right he dismissed as irrelevant for the moment.
"I could second that," he finally said mildly, no evidence of anger in his tone. And I would mind a little privacy before I react in a way I'm sure Nancy would NOT like...
Chuckling, Omi stood and hauled himself out of the furo. "I believe that's my cue to go slice up a rather cold roast." He turned and lifted Nancy out before she could try on her own. "C'mon, chibi," he said gently, "go put your nightclothes on, because you know you're going to fall over at some point."
Right at the moment, Nancy was still near-vibrating with nervous energy, but the threadbare edges were starting to show. "Yes, Omi-poppa," she said obediently, leaving one of her hands tucked into his and pulling him along with her.
"Take your time, Naoe-san; dinner is going to be a sandwich smorgasboard at this point," her father called over his shoulder as he was dragged away.
"I understand." Nagi gave them both a slight nod as they disappeared up the stairs, then leaned back against the tub again and sighed. Telekinetic kids and overprotective Weiss. Why the hell did I take this job again? He had the feeling that was far from the last tricky conversation he would be having with Nancy. Under any other circumstances, he'd say she was too bright for her own good--but given her Talent, she was probably just bright enough to keep up with the learning curve. Which made him wonder idly if there was a connection between high-level Talent and intelligence...
Another fifteen minutes of pondering, and then he reluctantly pulled himself upright. He hadn't put forth near the effort that Nancy had in their lessons today, but his stomach was starting to give notice. And politeness demanded he arrive for at least part of dinner. He toweled off and put on the robe, tying it loosely around his waist before heading upstairs for more presentable clothing.
Nagi entered the kitchen just in time to catch the tail end of a very disapproving look on Omi's face. He couldn't see Nancy's expression, as she had just planted her face with great vim onto the schoolbook open in front of her at the table.
Over the little girl's mumbled protests, her father said, a trifle grimly, "I am not in the least bit interested in witch-sensei's expectations, Nancy. I expect you to grow up with a functional brain, regardless of where you are being schooled. Try again, please."
The back half of the table, closest to the window (where no one was ever willing to sit, the assassins for their own reasons, the little girl because she occasionally actually had to get up and down), had been turned into a buffet of sorts. A serving platter held the sliced pork roast, in which someone (who was most likely short, blond, and currently muttering) had already made serious inroads. Sourdough, wheat, and rye breads, a variety of leafy greens, sliced onions and tomatoes, and a multitude of cheeses were piled on plates, surrounded by various condiments, olives, and other vaguely sandwich-related food items which came in bottles or jars. Nagi raised an eyebrow at the plentiful amount of food, then transferred the look over to the grumpy little girl.
"Problem?" he asked politely, heading for the food. Laying out several slices of bread, he began fixing a couple of sandwiches, throwing in ingredients with careless disregard as to how they might taste.
Without actually raising her head, Nancy turned it so that she could glower in Nagi's direction. "Have you ever had to subtract four-digit numbers with regrouping, or multiply three different numbers together, in your head? When it mattered?
Nagi paused, knife caught in mid-slice, and thought about it. Four digit numbers... Does a revised estimate of a hit, plus expenses, minus collateral damage and body disposal count? Wisely, he refrained from asking that out loud. Instead he simply gave Nancy a tiny smirk, knowing it would drive her nuts. "Yes."
"Khushim," the little girl accused, sounding deeply betrayed, before burying her face in her book again.
Omi had been staring at Nagi's sandwich-construction activities, wide-eyed. He managed a tiny smile of appreciation for the backup, but most of his attention was still riveted, fascinated, on the pile of food in the telekinetic's hand. Apple chutney, black olives, sliced onions, sage derby AND bleu cheese, spinach, two slices of pickled egg, and two, no, three slices of pork. . . on rye? Is he actually going to eat that?
"Try again, Nance. Four thousand, two hundred and thirty seven minus two thousand, nine hundred and forty eight."
The unintelligible mumbling he got in return did not sound numerical in nature.
Nagi turned away to hide his smirk, slapping mustard on the top piece of bread to complete the sandwich. He cut the sandwich neatly in half, knife flashing between his fingers with expert precision--and then he smushed down both halves and set it on a plate, the edges of the sandwich not quite spilling over in dribs and drabs on the table's surface. A couple pieces of fruit, some crackers and a generous glass of milk were added, and he carried the entire thing over to his chosen seat, careful not to get the food too close to Nancy's homework.
Ah, the trials and tribulations of homework. I remember those days... he thought, amused at the memories of squeezing project assignments and reports in between missions. Crawford had been adamant that he get his formal education credentials as traditionally as possible--and Estet had been equally adamant that it not interfere with his real work. It had made for some interesting--and frustrating--scheduling.
Shaking his head slightly, Omi directed his attention to his own dinner, waiting through several bites for a response from his daughter. Finally, frowning, he verbally prodded her. "Nance? I do expect an answer tonight."
Nancy raised her head and sat up. The little girl was red-faced, either from embarrassment or having her head pressed against the pages for so long; possibly both. "I. . " Taking a deep breath, she said flatly, staring down, "I can't do it, Omi-poppa. I'm too tired."
"You cannot do it, because you do not know how, and you can't teach yourself while exhausted," he corrected her. "Let me see your paper." Taking the silently proffered sheet, he glanced over it. "You have these correct, so this once I will write you a note excusing you. I suggest you review in study hall tomorrow." Omi's tone was carefully nonjudgmental, and Nancy looked miserable.
Even after several days, Nagi was still intrigued by Tsukiyono's paternal role in his little family. The concept of the former Weiss assassin having a daughter, even an adopted one, was one to raise eyebrows--add to that Tsukiyono's newly-adopted authoritarian manner, and Nagi found himself vastly amused. The big-eyed Weiss archer had grown up in some unexpected ways.
He took an absentminded bite out of the sandwich, and chewed thoughtfully as he watched the interplay across the table. Were all families like this? He suspected not, but it wasn't like he was in a position to know...
'm sorry," the little girl mumbled. "'ve just. . ."
Sounding amused, Omi reached out and mussed her hair gently as he asked, "You've just been so interested in everything Naoe-san's been teaching you, that it's all you've been thinking about? Schoolwork didn't seem as important, so you just didn't pay attention to it, eh chibi?"
It was barely noticeable, but the little girl flinched. "I won't do it again, sir."
"Good." His attitude made it clear that the subject was closed, and Omi took another bite of his sandwich. It was much. . . tamer, than Nagi's, the eating of which he was still observing with fascination out of the corner of his eye. "How about your kanji? Have you been studying them, while you were mad at me?"
Immediately perking up, Nancy said enthusiastically, "Hai!" One hand flying through the air, she 'sketched' out each glyph while giving the readings. "Midori, ryoku, roku; green. Atsui, sho; hot. Kouri, ice." Omi had watched her pointing finger closely, and now nodded approvingly. "Excellent! You're doing marvelously with those; you're even a bit ahead of where you need to be, Nance. I'm proud of you."
Nagi frowned as he listened. He didn't want to interrupt the lesson, and it really wasn't any of his business, but...Nancy's kanji were off. It wasn't a big mistake, but it was consistent. Yet Tsukiyono showed no signs of noticing. He mulled it over as he finished half the sandwich, then came to a decision.
**"Tsukiyono-san...no offense, but is there a reason she's drawing this particular stroke reversed?"** he asked in Japanese, sketching out the stroke he meant on the table's surface with one finger.
**"Dammit, am I still doing that? I thought I stopped when you stopped mentioning it, Omi-poppa!"** Nancy replied in the same language, glaring a bit at her father. Ordinarily she wouldn't have been so annoyed with him, but she felt stupid enough for one night, thank you very much, and now here she was making more mistakes in front of Naoe-sensei! He was going to think she was dumb!
Her father had been trying to suppress his laugher, and finally succeed. Almost calmly, he said, **"I stopped correcting you because it's not important, Nance."** Omi left the conversation in Japanese, happy for the chance to have his daughter practice with someone other than himself, but made sure to use basic vocabulary. **"You only do it when you're air-writing, never on paper. You know the rules, it's just that for some reason you don't even see yourself doing that one stroke backwards."** He shrugged. **"If I can ever figure out why you do it, we can work on it again."**
"Ah, that would explain it," Nagi said in English. "I apologize for bringing it up," he told Nancy politely. "I just wasn't sure of the reasoning behind it." It was a weird mental quirk to have...but then, he'd had a few of his own, especially when switching back and forth from Japanese kanji to Chinese hanzi. And his Chinese instructors had not been forgiving.
"That's all right, sir," Nancy said politely, although now she was decidedly gloomy. "I'm just . . . I dunno, I'm feeling all weird inside my skin tonight." Glancing warily at her father out of the corner of her eye, she said softly, "I feel like everything's supposed to be fixed now. But. . ."
"But what, Nance?" Omi said gently, after a short pause, when it became clear that the little girl wasn't going to continue.
Reaching out for a piece of lettuce, the child began shredding it into tiny pieces with her fingernails, giving the task fierce attention. "I still don't understand why you aren't afraid of me. If you used to fight him, I really don't understand why you're not afraid of Naoe-sensei! I can think of lots of really nasty things to use my Talent for, in a fight!"
Looking up suddenly, wide-eyed, she hastily added, "Not that I do, Omi-poppa! Really! No Talent in public! And I don't fight, I promise!"
Nagi could help it--he snorted. He suppressed the rest of his amusement behind one hand, and looked over at Tsukiyono. I wouldn't mind knowing the answer to that one myself, actually. Why aren't you afraid of someone who could kill you with a thought? Out loud, he said, "I apologize, Tsukiyono-san. I believe this is a question that only you can answer, however." He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms expectantly. This should be interesting.
Setting the remains of his dinner aside, Omi rested one elbow on the table, and cupped his chin in that hand. Trying to ignore Nagi's anticipatory attitude, he focused on his daughter. "Well, I think part of the reason you just can't figure out how I'm thinking, is that I'm thinking about two things, while you're thinking about one."
Nancy blinked at him. And repeated, plaintively, her earlier excuse for math noncomprehension. "I'm awfully tired, Omi-poppa. . . "
Grinning at her, he started trying to explain. "Being aware of something, and being afraid of it, are two different things, Nance. I am aware that you might one day accidentally hurt me. In fact, I expect it to happen." That made the child hunch over, and Omi smiled at her with slightly sad affection. And I wish I could soften that blow, chibi. . . but you will, one day. Frankly, it's a miracle you haven't already, with the fumbling 'instruction' I've been giving you. Aiming for a distraction, he cast a sly look at Nagi. "And I am most certainly aware that Naoe-san can, and has, deliberately hurt me, with his Talent. It's a bit hard to miss that sort of thing."
Nagi waited for Nancy's reaction, face carefully impassive--though not without a bit of dark humor. So glad Tsukiyono hasn't forgotten our quality time together. Otherwise I might have had to wonder about possible brain damage. It's also a good thing Nancy-kun is too tired to get really upset, I think. Otherwise I might be having to fend off Tsukiyono's self-appointed chibi defender again. Another and much less pleasant thought occurred to him.
I hope Tsukiyono hasn't gone too far, though. The last thing I need to deal with is Nancy afraid of me as well as herself. Respect I can use. Outright fear will just block her even more.
That prompted a darkly suspicious glare. . . at her father. "He hurt you, at the zoo. Why did he do that? The more I think about it, the more what you said in the car seems stupid." Now, ordinarily she wouldn't have come right out like that, and called Omi-poppa dumb. . . but she was a very tired little girl.
Laughing softly, Omi said cheerfully, "That's because it was stupid." Holding up his free hand briefly, he said soothingly, "I didn't want to tell you that Naoe-san might be your new sensei, until I made sure he would actually agree, so I made something up. It was still my fault, chibi. He was making sure that I wasn't thinking of using you, that's all, the way we were. I lost my temper at the very idea, and reacted like an undisciplined teenager. It was moronic of me, but the incident wasn't that important."
That got a rather blank stare, and a half-wailed, "But he could have killed you, if he hadn't stopped! I thought he was trying to! Why doesn't that scare you?"
Nagi picked up the other half of his sandwich, still amused, and took a bite. Go Nancy... It was a bit like watching a rat terrier worrying at the leg of a Great Dane--Nancy had no idea what she'd gotten ahold of, but she still refused to let go.
"I was afraid, when I first met Naoe-san. It took me a long time to figure out how he was doing those things, and enough about telekinesis that I was able to set aside the fear." By now Omi was leaning forward a bit, arms crossed on the table, totally focused on his daughter.
"Fear is a signal that something is wrong, that you need to pay attention. But you have to do something with it, Nance. It's no good to just say 'I'm afraid'. After I learned as much as I could, about Naoe-san's power, I realized that there wasn't anything I could do directly to combat it. How was I supposed to fight back against someone who didn't even have to be in the same room, to hurt me? Being scared of that wouldn't do me any good at all. It would be like going around all time worrying that lightning would strike."
Sitting up again, Omi gestured emphatically with one hand, the other curling into a loose fist. "I had to decide, if it was worth the risk. Naoe-san never hurt me badly, but there was always the possibility, because I didn't understand why he was fighting me at all. When I decided that I did need to fight, there was no point in still being afraid." Smiling, he reached out and rested a hand on Nancy's hair. "And when I decided to keep you, and especially when I adopted you, I decided that was worth any risk of an accident happening. So why would I be scared? I've done everything I could, to help you gain control." Swallowing hard, he admitted, "I was scared, when you pulled that stunt with the air. More like terrified, because I might have lost you. So I decided it was time to ask for help."
Nagi had sobered as he listened to Tsukiyono speak--now, in the lull of the conversation, he put in quietly, "Fear is the normal reaction people have to us, Nancy-kun. I think you know that already." His eyes were dark and shuttered as he pushed back attendant memories. They had no place here in front of Nancy's innocence. "And most people deal with their fear in only two ways. They either run away, or....they do whatever they can to make the object of their fear go away, no matter what it takes."
He flicked a glance over at Tsukiyono. "Tsukiyono-san's way of dealing with this is very rare, Nancy-kun, and it's a good thing for you. But...you can't count on having that understanding with most other people." He didn't want to exaggerate the girl's fears, but at the same time he didn't want her to believe that Tsukiyono's resolve was as easy as he had made it appear.
If she hadn't been worn out from everything that happened, Nancy would never have said what she did next, because she knew Omi-poppa wouldn't let her get away with it. But she was tired, and upset, and confused. . . so, wrapping her arms around herself, the child muttered to the table, "I know people will be afraid of me, always. I hate being a freak like this!"
Omi's face went blank as he pieced together what the mumbles had meant, and then he shoved his chair violently back from the table. Reaching out, he bodily picked his daughter up and hauled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her tightly. "I do not want to hear you say that, Nancy Wilkens Tsukiyono! You are not a freak. There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing at all! You're a bright, beautiful little girl, who has a psychic power. If every single person you meet is stupid enough to think that's a bad thing, then I'm sorry that all you meet is idiotic people."
In contrast, Nagi's response was more exasperated than comforting. "I believe we've already been over that, Nancy-kun." He sighed and picked up his mostly empty plate, taking it over to the sink. Removing the remaining apple, he neatly stacked the dishes to one side. Freaks, monsters, demon-children--sooner or later she'll have to deal with it, or collapse under it. And I don't care to sit here and watch Tsukiyono give her unrealistic hopes that it won't be that way.
"I don't believe there's any purpose in repeating myself," he stated coolly, and gave them both an incremental bow. "I'll be in my room should you need something."
Glancing up, Omi raised an eyebrow at Nagi, but figured the other man was just fed up with melodrama for one night. "Good night, Naoe-san," he said quietly. Nancy mumbled something, waving one hand at Nagi.
Behind him, Nagi could hear a childish treble saying, "Do we have to talk about this tonight? I'm full up to my ears of all the talking..."
Nagi was halfway up the stairs when a piercing squeal assaulted his ears. "Omi-poppa!" My, but childish voices could carry. "Put me down!" By the time the telekinetic reached his door, one hand resting on the knob, Omi was bounding up the last few steps, his daughter bouncing against his back.
The assassin had a firm grip on his daughter's ankles, and a cheerful smile. Nancy was giggling helplessly, pounding on Omi's back, still demanding to be put down. Shrugging elaborately, so that his 'victim' could feel it, he commented casually to Nagi, "I have no idea why she keeps telling me to drop her on her head. The logic of a child, who is capable of comprehending it?"
Nagi raised an eyebrow. "Not I. Perhaps she's part bat?"
Omi blinked at Nagi, once, before laughing. "Eh, chibi, is that it? Can you fly, but only starting from an upside down position?"
"I am not a bat!" came the indignant reply, one ankle wrenching loose enough that she could kick Omi in the neck.
"Ow," he commented mildly.
"Parenting appears to be a dangerous business," Nagi commented dryly as he opened the door to his room. "So I believe I will retreat and leave you to it. Good night, Nancy-kun."
"Good night, Naoe-sensei," she answered politely, twisting until her eyes were in view. Now he could tell that her other hand was occupied holding her pajama top down. . . or in this case, would it be up?
"Good night," Omi repeated. "Nance, the door, please?" The handle turned with a click, and he nudged it open with his foot. "Are you too tired for reading?"
"No! I missed reading. Progress, please?" was the last thing Nagi heard before the door closed, cutting off all sound.