Characters: Standard three, no NPCs. No warnings. Teeny bit of angst
The next day Nagi arose as usual, if a bit less stiffly. A good hot soak was good for many things, and muscles were one of them. He made a mental note to start up his training regimen again. It wouldn't do to have him get out of shape while living off of Tsukiyono's largesse--a flabby assassin was often a dead one.
After a brief wash, he headed out to the back yard again for Tai Chi. The house was once again quiet, and this time there was no feeling of impending doom...with any luck, most of the temper tantrums had been worked out yesterday. He grimaced a bit as he fell into his routine. Any more days like that, and he was going to need therapy...or a good stiff drink.
Omi woke at his usual time, this morning unassisted by expressions of displeasure on the part of his daughter, and paused briefly in his morning routine to observe Nagi down in the backyard. Knowing it was impossible for the other man to observe him, he let himself grin. There was just something inordinately amusing about seeing one of the banes of his youth wandering around his territory in bare feet.
Eventually raising an eyebrow at the time, the young man went to haul his daughter out of bed before heading down to make breakfast. He might have to speak to Nagi, if lessons continued to exhaust Nance so, even after an adjustment period. Omi made a mental note, adding it to his decision to permanently move his workouts to mid-morning or afternoon. It wasn't so much that he minded having someone around; more that the yard wasn't really big enough for both him and his 'guest' to use at the same time.
Tearing downstairs, still pulling her clothes on, Nancy hurried out to the labyrinth, already frustrated with her day. So much to think about, and she was already late. . .and tonight was Aikido and homework. The little girl just hoped she wasn't going to have another Talent lesson, or she just might have to stand in the middle of the yard and scream.
"Morning, Naoe-sensei," she mumbled on her way by, carefully avoiding eye contact so he wouldn't ask her to do something, and then she stopped in front of the entrance, taking several deep breaths.
I can only do what I can do, Nancy told herself firmly, starting on the path. If I don't have time to think, well, things will still be confusing tomorrow, bet anything.
Nagi nodded in acknowledgement of her greeting, but didn't stop to answer. Instead he sank deeper into the meditative exercise, working out the lingering tension from yesterday and making sure of his balance--in both the physical and mental sense. He drew out the kata longer this morning, making doubly sure of his equilibrium and focusing down on the deep well of his chi. Then he surfaced to face another day. Disinclined to interrupt Nancy's labyrinth time, he gave himself a few minutes to cool off, then headed inside for breakfast.
"Good morning, Naoe-san," Omi greeted him quietly as the telekinetic entered the kitchen, looking annoyingly wide awake for someone who hadn't done morning katas at all. Snapping the lid shut on the third bento, Omi began tidying away the leftover lunch-making materials. "How do you prefer your eggs?" Glancing at the other man out of the corner of his eye, he said sternly, one corner of his mouth twitching upwards, "I will not include pickled eggs or fruit chutney. . . "
...fruit chutney? "That's fine," Nagi said, looking blank. "I wasn't really expecting any. And scrambled will be fine." Years of enduring Schuldig's patented 'Scrambled mess, complete with tabasco!' had made him utterly indifferent to whether eggs where sunny-side up, down, or anything other than burnt. Pouring himself a large glass of water, he seated himself in his usual spot at the table.
Lightly-scrambled eggs with milk, butter, chives, and fennel that were most certainly not burnt appeared on the table just as Nancy hurried in, looking considerably less frazzled, although still tense. Looking at her, Omi had to fight to repress a smile. "Good morning again, Nance. Breakfast and lunch are ready; don't forget that I'll be picking you up for Aikido, and remind Sara, please; I'm not sure she'll remember what parts of your schedule are the same. Your note is in your math book; you know what to do if witch-sensei doesn't like it?"
The child grinned. "Uh-huh! My very best innocent confused little kid act, Omi-poppa, I've got it all polished up."
"Good. Now, put your shirt on right side out, and you'll be all set."
Nagi smiled a little, but made no other comment, preferring to eat his eggs in peace. Unlike Nancy, he had no reason to rush, and he enjoyed the feeling of leisurely enjoying a meal as he watched the pre-school morning bustle in front of him. In contrast, Nancy was practically inhaling her breakfast, her speed only checked by the modicum of manners insisted on by Tsukiyono. When Sara arrived to pick her up, she flew out the door with a piece of toast still in hand, and silence descended once again.
Kitchen clean, Omi was finally able to sit down and eat his own breakfast. He'd long since gotten used to cold eggs, and was pleased for once by Nagi's habit of rectitude. The two men ate in silence. Once Nagi appeared finished, Omi leaned back in his chair slightly. "Are you interested in joining us for tonight's Aikido lesson, Naoe-san? If so, I shall call Sashiko-sensei this morning."
The offer was a bit sooner than Nagi had expected--he'd thought another week or two would go by before Tsukiyono felt comfortable enough to invite him again, especially with Nancy's uncertain moods. But it wasn't unwelcome; it would be good to spar with someone new.
"Certainly, if you're not tired of my presence yet," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I must admit I would like to speak with Nancy-kun's sensei about her chi training, and try to get a better idea just what has been taught."
Nodding, Omi said casually, "Whatever story you decide to use, to explain why you're interested in such things, just let me know what it is. Sashiko-sensei will no doubt question me before sharing such information with you." Rising to carry his dishes to the sink, he paused to glance at Nagi, one eyebrow raised, a slightly weary expression in his eyes.
"As for being tired of your presence, Naoe-san, while I'm still adjusting to having another person living in the house, I find that you're rather soothing." Grinning at the expression that comment provoked, he expanded on the topic slightly as he walked away. "You know what I am. After so long dealing with suburban Americans, that simple fact is surprisingly refreshing."
"I suppose I can understand that," Nagi replied. "Not to mention--I'm sure coming to live in America was quite a transition for you." He leaned back, fingers tapping over the surface of his water glass as he thought. "I must confess, I haven't come up with a complete cover story for your sensei, yet. Perhaps I should just take the simple route, and tell her I'm introducing Nancy-kun to Tai Chi." Lies close to the truth were always the best ones.
Nodding, Omi had to admit that would probably work. "I wasn't able to understand more than a tenth of what Nance was babbling about last night, but I did get that you tried the hands exercise, to her very great frustration." After putting his dishes down, the young man turned and leaned against the counter, eyes automatically going to scan the street scene visible through the kitchen window.
"In fact, as Nance's lesson is first, I expect Sashiko-sensei will already know that you're starting her on a different set of chi exercises. Hopefully, between the three of us, we can persuade her to permit it, and perhaps to assist." That was said with humor, but also in earnest. Sashiko-sensei was rather. . . firm, about the need to progress in proper order. He had no intention of permitting the Aikido instructor to dictate to him, but cooperation would be easier.
Nagi nodded. "You know her better than I, but I hope she can be persuaded to be flexible. Nancy-kun's progress will be much faster if her Aikido lessons are not clashing with mine in terms of chi techniques." He frowned a little, looking down at his empty plate. "She has a long way to go in that area, and until I get her firmly grounded in the mental techniques, we won't be able to progress to anything more advanced."
Abstract thinking could be difficult for a trainee at the best of times, and the fact that he couldn't use the rather unfriendly techniques Estet had used to train him meant that he had to come up with entirely new exercises, and hope they worked. What I wouldn't give to be able to research this, he thought with a purely internal sigh. To just treat it as another mission, and formulate my plans based on what I find. This whole winging it thing really SUCKED.
I don't think it will be so much a matter of conflicting techniques, as timing," Omi said thoughtfully. "She is a great believer in the proper order of things." Grinning slightly, he glanced over and informed Nagi, "Which is, of course, her order. You see, Nance won't even begin on Orenai-Te until she advances another rank, and ki capture techniques such as the hands trick you want to start with are third in order."
"Hrm." Nagi frowned. "Well, I can either work with her, or around her. But the focus *has* to be different for telekinesis. One more oriented towards control of the mind than control of the body." He glanced over at Tsukiyono. "Not that I'm proposing she neglect the latter, of course."
Snorting softly, "And I am assuming you're not proposing to give that reasoning to Sashiko-sensei. So. Since she will ask, 'why is it necessary for Nance to learn ki exercises in the incorrect order, hmmm?'" Shaking his head slightly, Omi assured, "I'm not trying to be difficult, Naoe-san, but I haven't studied nearly enough Tai Chi to think of one."
"I have, and I'm still drawing a blank," Nagi said dryly. "I'm not a Tai Chi master, just a practitioner. I could probably fool someone less knowledgeable, but not your Sashiko-sensei, from the sounds of it." He arched an eyebrow. "And somehow I think 'just trust me' isn't going to fly very far." He sighed and got up to refill his glass with water, then sat back down again. "Perhaps some background would help. Sashiko-sensei--is she first-generation Japanese-American? Second?" Exactly how traditional was this woman?
Omi's smile definitely contained too many teeth. "Japanese-American , Naoe-san?" Pushing off from the counter, he glanced towards the hallway. "And while I dislike being this rude, might we continue this discussion outside? This is the second morning in a row I've neglected my morning routine, and while I plan to shift it to mid-afternoon, I would feel more comfortable if I at least stretched out."
"If you wish." Nagi tried to figure out exactly what it was that Tsukiyono had found so offensive, and came up with nothing. Shrugging, he stacked his dishes neatly and carried them over to the sink to rinse off. Then he left them there and followed Tsukiyono out to the back yard. Sitting down on the back step, he leaned against the sun-warmed wall. "Am I wrong, then? She's not an American citizen?"
"Sashiko-sensei was born in Japan, Naoe-san. Her father was transferred to the Hawaiian branch of his company in 1976, when she was six. Almost immediately, she began her studies under Maruyama-sensei, which her parents saw as a way of resisting the American influence." Grinning over his shoulder as he opened the back door, Omi said cheerfully, "A part of the story I have heard many, many times. Sashiko-sensei disapproves most heartily of how Americanized I am." For some reason, he paused to look amused at his bare feet before stepping out onto the grass and sliding into a lunge. "I simply haven't the heart to tell her I've always been mannerless."
Nagi grimaced. "Perfect." Hidebound AND traditional, and still unbendingly Japanese despite spending most of her life in America. Why am I not surprised? He didn't bother to point out that by the strictest definition Sashiko *was* Japanese-American. Other people's labels didn't concern him enough to bother. "So in other words, she's going to take exception to a young punk coming in and asking her to change her time-honored teaching methods, isn't she?"
Standing, Omi just looked at Nagi, suddenly grave. "Maruyama-sensei was Maruyama Korotoshi, a favored student of O-Sensei, Ueshiba Morihei. The founder of Aikido chose Maruyama-sensei to found and lead the Hawaiian school of Aikido. Sashiko-sensei is his hand chosen pupil, who has founded the first mainland school of Aikido Yuishinkai. I believe that an explanation exists, which will convince her of the rightness of Nance studying under you, if we can but think of it. However, bringing that attitude into the dojo will not be useful."
Nagi raised his eyebrows at Tsukiyono's sudden formality. "Believe me, Tsukiyono-san, I intend to accord her all due respect. I just don't believe she'll return the favor without a great deal more background information than I am prepared to give. Which means I have to tailor my strategy based on my best guess about how she'll judge me and my sudden presence here." He shrugged a little, his tone cool. "I'm here to do a job, Tsukiyono-san. At this point I don't know if Sashiko-sensei will be a help or a hindrance. And until I do know, I have to allow for the possibility of the worst-case scenario."
Lunging forward with the opposite leg, Omi shook his head slightly. "I expect Sashiko-sensei shall surprise you. She tends to surprise everyone," he said dryly, "being one of those people who cannot be anticipated well." He appeared pleased by Nagi's change in vocabulary and attitude. Moving on with his exercises, the young man casually suggested, "I believe it would be best if we approached her together. That way, I can reassure her that you have my approval for this training regimen, and I will hear whatever elaborations you decide to work with, on your basic theme." Raising up into a high-arching backbend, he said cheerfully, "Which will make the grill session to follow ever so much easier for me. I've seen enough of traces of your thinking in various networks to be a bit leery of needing to follow it on the spur of the moment. . . "
Nagi gave him an amused look at the backhanded compliment. "Are you saying I'm illogical?"
In a move shamelessly stolen from one of Nance's gymnastics routines, Omi went up into a handstand, rolled down along his vertebrae, and ended in splits. Giving back a rather aloof look of his own, he said crisply, "Of course not. I should never be so imprecise as to call you senseless, nor accuse you of contradicting the principles of logic." Leaning forward until his chest was flat to the earth, he planted his chin on his fists and smiled. "Now, divergent I would give you, as you certainly don't follow convention, and most certainly irregular applies, but I shouldn't even go so far as disparate, though you can be unpredictable."
"Why thank you. You're too kind," Nagi said sardonically as he watched the acrobatics. It certainly was a rather...energetic method of stretching. "You're not half bad yourself, even if you're a bit conservative in your technique." In point of fact, he'd stolen a few ideas from Tsukiyono after running into evidence of previous hacks, but there was no need to tell him that.
Pausing briefly in the midst of pulling his legs together, Omi blinked mildly at Nagi, before nodding. "Thanks. I've run into my own traces enough to see the evidence of that," he said a bit wryly, not a crack in his mask to indicate that those traces were deliberately calculated for that effect. Leaning forward to grab his feet, the assassin grimaced faintly as he stretched his calves.
"That doesn't bother you?" Nagi supposed he could understand the theory behind staying in your own comfort level. He also had to remind himself that he had no idea how Tsukiyono had been trained. Given Kritiker's 'good guy' stance, it was entirely probable that he'd never been oriented toward the more destructive ways to crack a system. At the very least he seemed a bit gun-shy about the more high-risk systems like intelligence agencies, if previous patterns of activity were to be believed.
His loss is my gain, I suppose. Nagi stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankle as he watched Tsukiyono work out.
Omi shrugged briefly, before pulling himself down hard against his legs and holding it for a miserable count of thirty. Sitting up again, the assassin forcibly swallowed a groan before rolling his ankles out. "Not especially. It works for me, and those patterns suit the way I think. I've never had to pass on a job because I couldn't hack it," he punned with a straight face, before locking right hand around left wrist and leaning away from Nagi into another deep stretch.
It took a moment for Nagi to catch the pun, and then he rolled his eyes, making a disgusted face. "Well, you obviously haven't let it cramp your style," he said, obliquely referring to his own monitoring. "Your reputation is fairly formidable over here."
Snickering, Omi reassured Nagi, "I don't do that very often, Naoe-san." Reversing his grip and leaning in the other direction, he gravely observed the other hacker from an upside-down perspective. "I do all right," he admitted, wondering if Nagi was simply being honest, or if he was making a subtle threat, with that reference to his awareness of Omi's activities. Regardless of which, best to match it.
"Pretty sure you get paid more, on average, but I can't really conclude if that's just because people agree you're better, or because your wetwork rep is more directly tied to your hacker one." Those identities were actually ones Omi worked hard to keep separate, as his scheduled runs to check for files on himself with the FBI and CIA were annoying enough. He sure as hell didn't want to gain enough notoriety that he'd have to actually delete evidence.
Nagi shrugged. "Hard to say. Unless we want to compare tax returns." He smirked a little. "Though if I had to guess, I'd say the latter. I will admit that I find it beneficial when negotiating for pay." He tilted his head up, looking at the hazy blue of the sky beyond the edge of the roof. Not having too many inconvenient ethics certainly keeps the calls coming in, he thought cynically.
This time, Omi did groan out loud, and gave Nagi a very unpleasant look into the bargain. "Do not mention those. I do not have to think about it for thirteen more days!"
"American taxes are that complicated?" Nagi asked mildly. "Or just yours?" He looked back over at Tsukiyono. "I suppose you have to figure out how much you're going to let them have." He much preferred his own method, where he determined how much a year he'd pay, and sent it in. The little half-civilized country he lived in certainly didn't care to verify *his* income--or the income of any of the neighboring warlords. It was an odd sort of arrangement, but it worked.
Muttering something under his breath, Omi rolled into another handstand, this time ending up balanced entirely on his right hand. Voice oddly compressed, he explained, "Part of the actual services I offer through my 'legitimate' business is money laundering. 87 clients on record. It's going to be a bitch ."
"Money laundering is considered a legitimate business? The U.S. tax laws must be less restrictive than I thought," Nagi commented. Watching Tsukiyono, he found himself having to resist the urge to do something evil and unprofessional...like tickling him. "I thought you did mostly security work. Network security, that sort of thing."
Laughing, Omi switched hands, unaware of the danger he was in. As his weight settled, he felt his shoulder roll in, the muscles that had woken up tensed and pulling at it forced to relax and shift at the unexpected resistance, and sighed slightly. "No, of course not. But that business is about a legitimate as Britney Spears' reputation as a serious artiste. I think . . two of the contracts were actually what I say they were?" Rolling down again, he shifted into the yoga Cobra pose, again studying Nagi upside down. "No, three, Anderson wasn't cleared until the quarter ended."
"Ah." Nagi considered it, comparing it to what his research had turned up. Shells within shells...something to remember with this one. "You've done a good job of making it look legitimate, then." He tilted his head back up to look at the sky again, breathing deep. The air was fairly clean today, with only a little big-city smog to taint the atmosphere.
"Thanks." Rocking forward so that his chest was on the ground, with his legs raised almost perpendicular to the ground, Omi moved into Locust. "Problem is, means I'm fair useless during the first bit of April while I deal with the bullshit. It's one reason I'm pushing Nancy into the acceptance phase; ordinarily I'd be letting her reach equilibrium on her own."
"Pushing her? How?" Nagi asked, only half-caring. "You think she'd be even *more* resistant to the idea of lessons?"
"Not so much to the idea of lessons, no," Omi said slowly, "more to having her life change. She's lost gymnastics; Friday or Monday I'm arranging to take her out of a class for an extra study hall, so she won't have homework to bring home." Moving into a spinal twist, he incorporated a shrug. "She can handle it, but ordinarily I'd spread the changes out. I want her to be happy about this chance, but as long as she takes full advantage of it, she can catch up with the happiness later."
"Hrm. I suppose that would be disconcerting, even for a child who's led a sheltered life." Which was another reason why it was a good thing Tsukiyono was there to run interference for him on that--he doubted he'd be nearly as patient with any childish fears. Especially the ones that simply made no sense. "You think she's going to continue to act out, then? Nancy-kun seemed to forget about her anger once we started working yesterday..." If not the rest of her muddled emotions. He frowned a little at the memory.
Twisting the other way put Omi facing Nagi, in time to catch that frown. "I had been intending to ask," he said quietly. "What on earth happened yesterday?" Eyes darkening, he admitted, "I had no idea she expected me to be afraid of her. She'd never told me her mother was. I would ordinarily say that she should settle rapidly; ordinarily Nance is a very level-headed little girl. But I wasn't expecting any of this."
"I was...but I must confess I was lulled into a false sense of security," Nagi said slowly, not looking at the older man. "You seemed to have created a stable family, and she seemed rather well-adjusted. So I had hoped that her fears didn't run so deep. They are...common ones, unfortunately. Every psychic has to deal with them, to a greater or lesser degree." He lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug.
Looking a bit frustrated, but also sorrowful, Omi demanded, "Is it truly so difficult to find people able to be sensible about it, then?"
"Of course it is," Nagi said, mildly surprised at Tsukiyono's naiveté. "What did you think, Tsukiyono-san? That most people would welcome a child, a coworker, a neighbor--who could read their minds? Or see their future? Or start fires, or kill them just by thinking about it? " He shook his head, eyes still turned up to the sky. "What I told Nancy-kun was the truth. If they don't control it, then they're afraid of it; and most people have only two reactions to fear. We...most psychics learn that early on, with our own parents and siblings." And Estet knew that, and used it.
Sighing, Omi said quietly, "Maybe it's different for me, because I had a choice." Straightening his spine, for a moment he failed to go into another position, instead sitting still, staring into the distance. "But it seems to me vaguely foolish; yes, I dislike the concept of telepathy. But if I knew a telepath who wasn't already bent on being my enemy, surely it would be better to work towards a position of respect? After all, I can't make someone with that gift stay out of my mind, so the best course of action is to earn the right to ask them to."
"How enlightened of you, Tsukiyono-san." Nagi's voice was dryly scathing. "Speaking from experience, even asking rarely works. And so most would prefer the offending psychic--telepath, to continue our metaphor--be dead, and therefore not a threat."
Folding up his legs, Nagi wrapped his arms around his knees and looked down at the older man. "In an ideal world, there would be people willing to rewrite their societal rules for psychics--to allow for checks and balances on those more gifted than the norm." His lips twisted. "But as you know, we do not live in an ideal world. And through her mother, Nancy-kun has discovered that as well, though she's still of the age where she wants to believe that somebody--some adult--can fix it for her."
"Well, I'm not going to tell her that," Omi said, shaking his head. "I suppose I shouldn't be so surprised that most people are as stupid about this as they are about anyone else." Leaning forward until his chin was on his outstretched knees, he said flatly, "At least I have the option of killing anyone who gives her too many problems. All right, I understand better now, why you brought up our past."
"It was the only thing I could think of to convince her that you weren't really scared of her," Nagi said. "At the risk of opening a can of worms, it didn't seem like anything less would suffice." He gave Tsukiyono a level look. "Did you know about her mother? What she tried to do?"
Turning his head, Omi met Nagi's eyes evenly, making no real effort to hide his fury. "I had no idea. She's never talked about her mother very much, but I always considered that natural. If my mother had been flung out of the car to die in front of me, leaving me trapped and helpless to watch while coyotes ate most of the body over the course of the next ten days, I wouldn't talk about her much either." Shaking his head sharply, Omi said, more calmly, "I just hope it works, eventually. Maybe I can't teach her, but I can be someone Nance can count on to never reject or abandon her. If she'll let me."
"I'm actually rather surprised she didn't use her power to free herself. From what I've seen, she's more than capable, strength-wise." Nagi tilted his head to one side, considering. "Was she badly injured in the wreck?"
"No. . .I think she was just in shock. I actually wasn't positive she was telekinetic for several days." Frowning thoughtfully, Omi arched up into a bridge, handwalking closer to his feet until the arc of his back looked extremely painful. "Everything she did for months was unconscious and accidental, until I started making up games for us to play. I suppose that makes sense, if Jyodi was trying to shut her down." He scowled deeply, and then looked thoughtful. "Then I had to be harsh about control, after that incident on the road. . . now, looking back, I'm surprised she didn't shut down again. Hopefully that means she trusts me at least a little. . ."
"From what I can tell, she does. Of course, that trust is probably still fragile in certain ways." Nagi did his best not to wince as Tsukiyono found new and inventive ways to pop his back. "And it'll probably stay that way. Of course, you're probably better-equipped than most to understand such fears." He shrugged. "I can try to reassure her as best I can, but I'm automatically in a different category, really, as a fellow psychic. My acceptance doesn't count for as much."
Rising slowly, Omi folded over, hands on his feet, and let his back muscles relax. "Still. . . do you believe me, when I say I'm not going to abandon her, Naoe-san?" He sounding as though he were asking Nagi's opinion of the weather.
"You forget, Tsukiyono-san. I knew you back when you were Weiss," Nagi said dryly. "Given the general lack of self-preservation you evidenced back then, I very much doubt you'd abandon Nancy-kun over something so petty as fear for your life. Even if it would be smarter to do so, on your part at least."
Turning his head, Omi blew dangling strands of hair out of his face so that he could see Nagi. Blue eyes thoughtful, he studied the telekinetic for a long moment. Damn. Hasn't he ever had anyone who stood by him, just for himself? How sad. Finally grinning slightly, he straightened, shaking his head at Nagi. "Well, that's not exactly what I want her to learn, so if you could skip the details, that would be wonderful. But I expect the fact that you believe me, for any reason, when I say I'm not going to run will help."
Nagi nodded, then pushed himself up off the porch. "Your motives on this, at least, seem to be pretty clear. Hopefully Nancy-kun will find them that way as well." He stretched briefly himself, rolling his neck. "Well, unless you have anything else you want to ask, I think I'm going to go do some work for a while. And maybe a shower." He looked down at his still-bare feet.
"Well, as Nance was largely incoherent, I have numerous questions about the actual telekinetic content of the lesson, as well as a few points to raise about my own training efforts with her. But that can easily wait until later," Omi said, with a dismissive wave of his hand, "I've monopolized enough of your time, Naoe-san, and I do apologize. I'll let you know if I think of anything useful to say to Sashiko-sensei this afternoon."
He eyed the sky critically, considering the clouds forming out over the ocean. "You'll have the house to yourself for an hour or so; please lock up if you leave? And while I'm sure this doesn't need to be said," he added politely, "as your host I feel obligated to mention that poking about for hidden things might not be the most healthy thing to do."
Nagi raised an eyebrow. "I appreciate your concern for my welfare," he said dryly. "And I shall endeavor to restrain myself. I don't have any plans to go out earlier today, however, so I shall simply have to content myself with crawling the 'net." He gave Tsukiyono a last sardonic look over his shoulder as he opened the door. "Just let me know when you're ready to go this afternoon. Hopefully by then I will have formulated a workable strategy."
Looking highly amused, Omi said cheerfully, "It would just be so hard to explain why you were suffering from simultaneous cobra and funnel web venom poisoning...dreadfully inconvenient. We'll need to leave by 2:30 at the latest."
"Hai. I'll be ready." Giving Tsukiyono a brief nod, Nagi headed inside on quiet feet.