Snowblood

Chapter 13: Harajuku Girl

Exhausted as much by emotion as by the trip, Kari slept on until her father knocked on the sliding panel door which separated the two rooms. "Kari? Time to wake up."

"Uh—wha—?" she got out, wondering why she was sleeping on the floor. Oh. Right. Tokyo. And I made a fool of myself.

The night before, her dad had called the aunts, who had realized she was missing but were still in the stage of calling everyone they knew to see if she was there, and hadn't quite got to the point of calling the police yet.

After he told them where she was, he insisted she apologize to them over the phone and tell them what she had told him as to why she snuck off to Tokyo. Aunt Alison had cried and Aunt Maggie had cussed her out. She was looking forward to getting off the plane and dealing with the fallout only slightly less than she would look forward to an outbreak of huge, inflamed pustules on her face on school picture day.

"Make yourself decent if you're not already," he called. "We need to talk."

She hadn't brought pajamas, but the hotel provided them as well as robes. Putting one of the latter on over the rest, she slid the door open. They'd given her the inner room, maybe so she couldn't sneak out without waking them.

Her father was already fully dressed and checking his weapons. "How did you get those past Customs?" she blurted out.

He gave her that sardonic look. "I'm a professional Pursuant who's done international work. I'm cleared to bring anything I'm registered to use. Now, Yukie is in the bath, and I want to get this sorted out before she's done."

"Is she—did you have a fight already?"

"A fight? No. Why would we? I didn't invite you; you invited yourself. First of all, do you understand why we're all so mad at you? Do you understand why what you did was wrong?"

"Yeah," she rolled her eyes. "I lied, I wasted lots of money, and I got caught."

"No. You don't understand a thing." He put down the machete he was sharpening and glared at her. "Nobody knew where you were. Nobody would have known what to tell the police. You may have enhancements and you may be an award winning martial artist, but you're still a teenage girl and slightly built. That makes you low-hanging fruit. Anyone can be outnumbered or caught off guard. Anyone can be slipped a Mickey in something as innocent as a cup of coffee. Any plane could go down under conditions that kill everyone on board.  You could have disappeared forever and none of us would ever know what happened to you."

"But nothing bad happened!" she protested, while thinking, at least until I got caught. "I'm fine!"

"And you still believe there's some kind of magic that will keep anything bad from happening to you. What you did is fully as stupid, defiant, and dangerous as anything Drew ever came up with, and Drew died as a result of what he did. If you don't learn better, you could wind up dead too, next time."

That made her gasp. "I'm not like Drew! I'm nothing like Drew!"

"Really? The only difference from where I'm standing is that you're even less predictable than he is. In fact, it is Yukie's belief that this stunt was a cry for attention on your part, and that if you don't get it, your next bid will be even worse. To that end, she proposes that you join us for a few days, possibly longer—."

"She does? Then I didn't screw up that badly?" The cord that felt like it bound Kari's heart loosened.

"No, you did screw up that badly, but Yukie is willing to give you a chance. It's up to you to not screw that up too. This offer is contingent upon your willingness to cooperate. That means you have to behave. You have to dress like a well-brought up young woman and not a runaway who's been living on the street. You are not to turn up your nose at anything that's not pizza or a burger and fries, nor sulk or roll your eyes, nor walk around staring at your phone all the time without looking at your surroundings.