She was a nervous wreck the moment her eyes flipped open. Mieko was excited, ecstatic, but on the other hand she also somewhat wished for a few extra hours to lie in bed and mentally prepare herself for the day that was to unfold.

She turned her small frame to prop her weight on her right shoulder, peeking up from under her light blue sheets over towards the cedar nightstand beside her bed.

9:00.

She blinked and rubbed her eyes. Perhaps her vision was foggy from sleep? Yeah, that was it-

9:00.

「Noooooooo…..」 She moaned as she thrashed about under her covers.

They were supposed to meet out front in thirty minutes. Hell, knowing him he would probably show up fifteen minutes early like always, make a show of nonchalantly leaning against their gate as she came out, and wrap it all up with an irritatingly smug grin and a 「gooood morning!」

He was truly infuriating.

She covered her face in her hands.

She was not ready for this. Well, the first part of their plan, to be more specific—getting past her father’s questioning as unscathed as possible. With Takako, it had been a breeze, but with Kazuma, after three years she could only wonder. She reached over and gripped a pillow that had been kicked across the bed while she was sleeping.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek in an attempt to calm her nerves.

Kazuma was confident enough, so why was she so worried all of a sudden? Maybe her father had some sort of “engagement” this morning that he didn't tell her about last night at supper.

「Oh God, please…」 She felt sorry for praying that his company be forced onto someone else besides her and Kazuma, but dang it she needed one day, just one full day of smooth sailing and then she would be content with every bump and paternal obstacle thrown her way henceforward.

With another grunt, she heaved herself from the sheets and forced her body upright. Tingles shot up her back as she hoisted her legs down onto the European style carpet beneath the bed. Goodness, she must have really tied herself into a sailor’s knot while she was unconscious, all thanks to these damn nerves.

Reaching her arms up above her head to relieve the pressure, she sighed to herself. Her eyes shifted over to the window adjacent to her dressing table.

Was that open all night? Or had the maid come in while she was sleeping? Did the maid wake her up and had she fallen right back to sleep afterwards?

She shook her head and stumbled out of bed, licking her fingers and running them through her hair as a makeshift comb.

Teetering over to an ornate wardrobe nestled in the corner of her room, she shifted out of her night clothes and then tugged at its door.

Her nimble fingers filed through the endless horde of kimono until they settled on the simplest one she owned—and her favorite. It was the same salvaged blue kimono she had worn when she first met Lucy, and although it had no complex pattern on the fabric, the white obi she paired it with provided just the right amount of “pizzazz” as Alfred had called it.

What a fun word that was. When she first saw the rōmaji for it she had wondered why there were two z’s lined up next to each other twice, and in one word. Wouldn’t one be enough for both times the pronunciation came up? According to Lucy it was “just because” with no true reason behind it at all.

She pondered the conundrum yet again as she enveloped her shoulders in the fabric, jutting her arms into the garment’s wide sleeves.

Words in Japanese almost always had some kind of meaning behind their kanji or pronunciation, but English? English was off-the-wall, random, nonsensical fun and she loved it.

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She fastened the white obi around her waist.

Giving herself a brief check in the mirror next to her wardrobe, she looked over towards the clock once more.

9:07.

Maybe I’ll beat him to the punch this time.

Just as she was about to race towards the bathroom to wrap up her morning routine, she was halted in her tracks by the creak of a doorknob followed by heavy footsteps.

She rolled her eyes but tried her best to smack on a somewhat convincing smile.

She turned towards her father and was met with sharp black eyes that seemed to be constantly on the prowl for any wrongdoing done by his daughter.

“Good morning, dad.”

「I see no reason to address me in English when your teacher is not present.」

Her shoulders tensed and she suddenly found the floor to be quite interesting. She scolded herself silently. Why the heck did English come so easy to her at the worst possible times?

「I’ve told you before that I don’t particularly mind you missing breakfast, but if you decide to take such liberties I would appreciate prior notice.」

Mieko could feel the hair on her neck stand up as her father’s voice grated her nerves.

「Not that I see a respectable reason as to why you chose to miss it, still being in your bedroom with your hair a mess.」

「I wasn’t expecting you-」

「I wasn't aware that I had restricted access in my own home.」

Mister Takahara prided himself on his family. He had worked hard to cultivate the perfect image of a modern young lady, his daughter.

His daughter had everything—a top of the line education, taught in both Japanese and English no less, wonderful selections of clothing for any occasion you could imagine, a beautiful home—yet here she was, wallowing about in her room well past seven, questioning him why he came in to check up on her.

「Perhaps this is due to somebody’s influence?」 He was afraid her behavior would turn for the worse after Kazuma returned home. Kazuma had always been the catalyst for Mieko’s unruliness ever since they were children.

She managed to maintain her feigned smile, her nerves causing the edges of her mouth to waver momentarily.

「Kazuma? No, no! Actually, I forgot to mention to you-」 she paused as her father raised a brow at her brazen honesty.

「Forgot to mention to me?」

She took in a shaky breath and fiddled with her index fingers.

「Kazuma actually told me that he had time this morning to look over my most recent essay about…」 Good heavens, why did she add an “about”!? She tried to gulp down the butterflies bubbling up in her throat.

「About the...Yayoi period.」 She grimaced to herself. Mister Fosters was what most would call a history buff, so Mieko hoped that this fib was somewhat believable. Even for him, however, this was one hell of a stretch.

「Mister Fosters has you writing...about the Yayoi period.」

She nodded.

「Really.」

「Yes.」

「If I were him I’d have you write about the Meiji Restoration, something recent and relevant.」 He grumbled to himself, looked his daughter up and down, and turned on his heel towards the door.

「Very well, there’s no helping it now. Be sure to make yourself presentable. Brush your hair, wash your face.」

He reached for the door knob. 「And remember, you’re going with him to perfect your English. I don’t want you picking up any of his other habits.」

Before Mieko could ask what “other habits” she could possibly be exposed to at an English study session, he was gone, off to do whatever it was that had taken up his morning.

「It would be nice if he could say good morning to me for once…and stop treating me like some five year old.」 She stared blankly at the door for a couple of seconds before shaking her father out of her head.

Already accepting defeat in her quest to make it outside before Kazuma, she lugged herself into the bathroom across the hall and finished her routine before dashing down the stairs and out the front door. She gulped in the fresh morning air and finally felt a moment of peace in her chaotic morning. Until-

「Well, it took ya long enough!」 Mieko nearly jumped out of her skin as Kazuma called out, his sleek figure leaning next to the door frame. 「And here I thought I’d have to go in there and drag you out of bed! Even worse, talk to your dad! Ha!」

Just as she predicted, here he was casually splayed across the side of their home like he owned the place.

At least he dresses the part, she thought to herself as her eyes scanned over his getup. She was a bit surprised to see that he was dressed even more formal than was usual for him, substituting his usual black overcoat for a fancy inverness cape instead.

「How early were you this time, two hours?」 She rolled her eyes, a lopsided smile creeping up her cheeks. 「And is a cape really necessary? It’s summer. And we’re going to meet my friends, not the Emperor.」 She stuck her tongue out as she pulled at the hem of his outerwear.

Ever since she was a child she could remember him always being the number one connoisseur in dramatics, that much was certain.

「Nonsense, Micchan!」 Kazuma chastised as he wagged his finger high in the air. 「Although I’m sure they’ll accept my offer, it’s only proper etiquette to put your best foot forward in these situations! Now!」 He grabbed her shoulder and thrusted them out onto the street.

「Take me to the action.」