Chapter Thirteen

Matsuri Mayhem

The end of the uneventful dodgeball tournament (which had been rigged so that 1-C won anyways) marked the end of the semester and the beginning of summer vacation. Namimori Senior High had introduced a new schedule that year, and in doing so had elongated the summer by two whole weeks. Looking forward to the two extra weeks of vacation had spread a sort of cabin fever throughout the school, which burst at the seams as the final bell rung.

“So, I wonder what I’m gonna end up doing with all this summer vacation!” Haruhi snickered. She and Saki were walking a length ahead of the guys, the latter group keeping some distance from them. “Saki-chan, do you ever remember a time where we had so much vacation?”

“Not really, Yama-chan, unless you count the time a gas line exploded in our elementary school. It was right in our classroom, remember? School was closed for a couple extra weeks after Golden Week that year.”

“Oh yeah… I was in Italy with Masaru-kun visiting Yohi-kun during that Golden Week!” Haruhi glanced back at the guys and grinned brilliantly. Damiano gave a lopsided sort of chuckle back, which elicited an elbow from Masaru, Hans, and Kiyohiko each.

“Hello everyone! Hello everyone!” called Annje as she turned into the alley not too far up the way. “Annje is now off for the summer! Isn’t that great!? The teacher even called off half of the summer homework for Annje’s class!”

“Wow, that’s great, Annje-chan!” Saki exclaimed. The girls all giggled as the youngest of them rushed up to them.

“Oh, Saki-nee?”

“Yeah?”

“They were setting up a large festival by one of the schools Annje passed earlier! Do Japanese people have their harvests in the summer?”

Saki and Haruhi blinked for a moment before bursting into laughter. The little European girl looked at them, completely confounded by their behavior.

“No silly,” Haruhi chuckled. “It’s a summer festival! Who did you learn about Japan from?”

“Annje taught herself using manga! There were some books and a dictionary Annje’s boss gave her, as well as a couple of anime DVDs so she knew how to pronounce things!”

“What kind of manga was it?”

Annje began digging through her schoolbooks and began listing off all the titles she could. “Chii’s Sweet Home… Ichigo Mashimaro… a few volumes of Yotsuba… Miyuki-chan in Wonderland…”

“I am going to pretend I did not hear that last one…” Kiyohiko grumbled, now standing directly behind Haruhi and Saki. The last thing he wanted to hear the girl say she read was anything CLAMP… let alone some of their more risqué publications.

“Then I have an idea!” Haruhi said excitedly. She looked happily at Saki and grinned from ear to ear. “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

“Considering your dad left two nights ago for Siberia and therefore cannot train you in swordsmanship at the moment, I can only assume you’re thinking about baseball.”

“Nope! How about if we take everyone to the festival tomorrow?” she exclaimed.

“That sounds like an extremely cool idea!” Masaru chimed in. “It’ll be really fun since we can show them about what goes on at a real Japanese festival and be the important guides and things!”

“Festival…? What are they talking about, Eleventh?” Hans asked. Kiyohiko could only sigh.

“It’s something I actually avoid going to,” he frowned. “Those things are always too crowded for my liking; too many bad things could happen.”

“Aw, stop being such an extreme chicken, Little Cousin!” Masaru laughed. “It’s about time you three learn about your Japanese heritage through an extreme cultural experience! We can even teach the little Mist-gaijin-chan while we’re at it!” Masaru let out a laugh that sounded oddly rehearsed… more like Reborn had prepped him for the conversation beforehand.

“I’m German, you asshole,” Hans spat. Masaru bonked the child on the top of his head, causing a large lump to form.

“You’re an eighth Japanese; didn’t Goku-oji ever tell you that?”

“I thought he was Italian!”

“Not fully Italian. Gokudera-san’s mother was half-Japanese, half Italian and his father was whole Italian. That makes him a quarter. You’re half German from your mom, but have three-eighths Italian and one-eighth Japanese from your dad.”

“Oh… so like the genetics stuff we were talking about in Biology class, except my parents just never explained that Dad was part Japanese.”

“…but Gokudera is such a Japanese name…” Saki commented.

“You never know about those Sicilians…” Hans said resolutely. Kiyohiko bit his tongue in order to not berate the child, while Damiano simply slapped his forehead and groaned.

“That’s it… we’re extremely going to the festival tomorrow!” Masaru decided, his voice resolute. “Since my cousin never goes and Damiano and the brat have never been to a festival, we have to go!”

“Alright! Let’s all stay over at my house, Yama-chan!” Saki cheered. “Girls only! Let Sasagawa-kun take the guys and we can all meet up tomorrow!”

“Sounds like an extremely good plan!” Masaru cheered. “Damiano! We’re using your place tonight!”

“Wha…?! Why my place?!” Damiano gaped. “Wouldn’t it be better just having us go to your house?”

“My aunt and uncle have been trying to make the best of the time while Ryohei-oji is still around since he has to go to Italy for a few months soon,” Kiyohiko said, cringing slightly at the thought.

“So they’ll be a bit lovey-dovey… so what?” Haruhi shrugged. Kiyohiko and Masaru both stared blankly at her.

“You’d think my Dad would be the screamer,” Masaru said in a frighteningly deadpan manner. A light switched on in Haruhi’s brain and she nodded silently. Saki and Damiano both awkwardly avoided eye contact with anyone. Annje and Hans on the other hand…

“What are you talking about?” the boy asked.

“Annje is confused! What’s a ‘screamer’?”

“She screams when they watch scary movies,” Saki said, attempting to quickly usher the girl away. She glared at Masaru before glancing at Kiyohiko and mouthing ‘You take care of Hans; we’ve got this one.’ “Come on, Annje-chan, my cousin found some treats at an import market the other day that I think you’ll like…”

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“I still don’t think Turf-head-ji and that woman are watching scary movies,” Hans said. He was wracking his little brain while the others were asleep; Kiyohiko on the bed, Damiano on the couch, Masaru sprawled over the floor and he in an armchair. “I am not convinced.”

The boy scratched his head and pondered some more. Damn stupid teenagers and their damn stupid code.

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“It’s an extremely nice day today!” Masaru cheered in a singsong voice. He was walking in front of the rest of the group, a wide grin on his face. They were all wearing short summer kimono, to the chagrin of the others. “I can’t wait to get to the festival! Extreme food! Extreme games! Extremely hot girls in their summer yukata…!”

“I am not related to him… I am not related to him…” Kiyohiko muttered. He was the one most horrified at the notion of going to the festival in kimono, but when Masaru produced the pale-orange garment and assaulted him earlier that morning… there was not much choice that the teen had. He tugged at the fabric sourly, not pleased at looking like a walking creamsicle.

“Don’t you worry about this, Don Yohi,” Damiano said. “At least yours fits.” He was right, since although Damiano’s dark blue kimono was long enough on the body, his arms were several centimetres too long for the sleeves.

“This thing is itchy…” Hans whined. He was having the most trouble, as he kept on tripping over his wooden platform sandals and could not seem to scratch the itch his light-blue kimono planted right in the middle of his back.

“Oh, quit your bellyaching,” Masaru chuckled. “You’re being an extreme grouch, you know. It’s not like that’s the worst thing in the world to wear.”

“You’re right… that puke-green you’re wearing is,” Hans snapped back. Masaru pretended not to hear as they came up to the festival grounds.

“Damiano! Let’s see how good you are at goldfish scooping!” Masaru laughed. He grabbed Damiano and drug him along, knowing that his hostage was no good and would only do well in making others laugh hysterically.

“Look at that orchestra they’re setting up down there,” Kiyohiko noted. Over towards the side of the entrance there was a soft depression in the ground that was being used as a makeshift orchestra pit. He turned to Hans and smiled softly. “The last time I saw that many instruments together at a festival, I was with your dad.”

“Really…?”

“Yep. He played the piano for a little bit while watching over Haruhi-san and me. It was only the three of us. I think it was before your parents met.”

“Goku-oji met Daria-san the next month almost,” said Haruhi’s voice. Kiyohiko and Hans both jumped at the sound of her, which only elicited laughter. They turned and were met by a crushing hug from someone in a peony-print kimono and dolled up in cosmetics. Upon breaking the hug, it was shown to be Haruhi herself, her grin cranked up to a million watts.

“Ha-Ha-Haruhi-san…” Kiyohiko stammered. “You’re… dressed up…”

“Saki-chan talked me into it, so don’t make a big deal out of it,” she said, pausing to blow a stay hair out of her face. “Just enjoy it while you can, Yohi-kun.”

“Holy crap, you actually look like a girl,” Hans commented, poking at Haruhi’s crimson obi sash. “With the gender-blender name, all the boys’ uniforms and clothes that look like they came out of the Eleventh’s closet, I was beginning to worry about you.”

“Little liar…” Haruhi grinned, grinding her fist into the kid’s skull. “You don’t worry one iota about me.”

“That’s a fancy word… iota… are you sure you know what it means?”

“Leave Haruhi-nee alone!” Annje demanded, shoving Hans away from Haruhi. The young girl was in a crème-colored yukata that had a carp in some waves printed on the bottom. “Hans is just a really mean boy! Annje should beat the tar out of him once and for all!”

“Now, now kids, this is not the time to fight,” Kiyohiko said, stepping between the two children. “Shouldn’t you be playing some of the games or anything? Why don’t you go join Masaru-nii and Damiano-san over at the goldfish scooping booth?” Kiyohiko looked over towards the booth in question to see Damiano nearly in tears as he held what was clearly not the first torn paper net.

“I’m not hanging out with those losers. I’d rather hang with you, Eleventh,” Hans said. He looked up at Kiyohiko with grinning eyes and the widest smile he could muster. Kiyohiko looked at the boy and frowned.

“Fine; take this.” Kiyohiko took a thousand yen note from his pocket and shoved it in Hans’s hand. “Take Annje and go to the taiyaki stand over there. "I want the two of you to have some to test the quality…”

“Oh, so like a mission?!”

“Yeah—a mission. I can’t even tell you what it’s for ‘cause it’s that top secret.”

The child’s eyes lit up in excitement.

“You listen too, Annje. Now once you kids eat the taiyaki, I need you to go and scope out all the game booths. Reborn told me that some of them might be a little shady, so I want you to play them to find out which ones are the crooked ones and which are on-the-level…”

“…since it would be suspicious if a teenager did that!” Annje gasped.

“Of course. You two just look like some tourist children and even if you go to every stand, you just look enthusiastic. I’d draw attention.”

“Don’t worry Eleventh! You can count on me!” Hans announced.

“Hey! Annje was given the instructions too!”

“Yeah, but he gave me the money!”

“If you don’t at least act civil you’ll blow your cover,” Kiyohiko added. “What Hans-kun has should be enough. Now go! Hurry!” The children sped off towards the stand and immediately began bickering over their “mission.”

“That sure was thinking quick,” Haruhi said. She placed her fists on her hips and chuckled slightly as she looked at the two kids. “Do you think they’ll be alright?”

“What harm can they do?” Kiyohiko shrugged. “We made sure Hans-kun left any weapons at Damiano-san’s house.”

“…and Annje’s box is at Saki-chan’s. I guess they will be okay. Speak of the devil… Saki-chan! We’re over here!” Haruhi jumped up and down and waved her arms wildly. Kiyohiko only had to quickly glance to see Saki in her brilliant emerald-green kimono, coming at them with Masaru on one side of her and clinging to Damiano’s arm on the other.

“Where’s the kids?” she asked.

“On a special taiyaki-related mission,” Haruhi laughed.

“Is that a good idea?” Damiano wondered. “Those two tend to be… er…”

“Troublesome?”

“Yeah Don Yohi... troublesome.”

“Oh relax,” Haruhi snickered. “What’s the worst they can do?”

“Don’t make me answer that Haruhi-san,” Kiyohiko sighed. His friend just giggled in response and grabbed his wrist so she could pull him along.

“Come on Yohi-kun! Let’s go get some fireworks!” Kiyohiko smiled in return, allowing himself to be led along without protest.

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It was not too long before Kiyohiko found himself with a small bag full of fireworks to be used after once the sun began to set. He was sitting on a bench between Saki and Damiano, eating some cotton candy and watching Haruhi and Masaru bicker. He lost track of what the original argument anyways, so he found it safer to simply sit back and watch.

“I’m still putting five-hundred yen on Yama-chan,” Saki snickered, swiping some of Kiyohiko’s cotton candy. “There’s a stick over there that she’s been eyeing and she’s been known to hit Sasagawa-kun with random tree branches since elementary.”

“Why do you think no one’s betting against you?” Damiano laughed. “Signorina Haruhi is just too cool to lose.”

“Now that’s just talk,” Kiyohiko shrugged. “Masaru-nii won lots of times when we were little and they would fight. The only thing is that after they fought they’d be best friends again.”

“True, true,” Saki nodded. She took another clump of cotton candy and leaned back on the bench. “Only thing left to do now is to sit back and watch.”

“You’re just being an idiot,” Haruhi sighed at Masaru. Her near-permanent Yamamoto Smile was stretched thin into a vicious glitter of teeth.

“Yeah, well, you’re just being extremely grumpy,” he retorted.

“I’m just actually thinking for once.”

“Hey, don’t force yourself… I know it’s new territory to you.”

“At least I can think you…!”

“Alright, let’s stop this,” Kiyohiko said. He stood up and wedged himself between them, which probably was not the smartest move he could make. “Masaru-nii, Haruhi-san, why don’t we go find where Hans-kun and Annje-chan went?”

“Oh, were you going to come looking for us, Eleventh?” Hans asked, popping out from behind the bench. Annje was close behind him. Both children were breathing heavily, as if they had just ran from the other side of the festival grounds.

“What’s up with you two?” Saki asked. “You two look so winded that you might pass out!”

“Annje just wanted to race!” the girl said cheerily between gulps of air. “Just innocent fun!” She laughed nervously, which sent red flags flying in Kiyohiko’s mind.

“What did you two do…?” he asked warily.

“NOTHING!” the children shouted simultaneously. They both looked at one another nervously, as if there was something they were attempting to avoid.

“What did you do now, Hans-kun?” Haruhi asked, abandoning her argument with Masaru. “Did you accidentally break something and run away before paying?”

“Er… not exactly…” the boy started. He avoided eye contact with any of the teenagers, looking even more suspicious than Kiyohiko had originally thought.

“There you brats are!” boomed a voice. Everyone looked up to see an older man glaring at them, covered in scorch marks and pointing at Annje and Hans. “Those are the kids that blew up my stand!”

“It was crooked, Eleventh, I swear it was!” Hans cried.

“Run for it!” Damiano gasped as soon as he noticed that the former stand owner was charging at them. He scooped up Annje and began to dash for the exit. Haruhi threw Hans over her shoulder as well, making sure that the boy wouldn’t get left behind. The shop owner chased the group for a good twenty minutes before giving up, and that was only because the teens had all jumped inside a cluster of bushes for cover.

“Is he gone…?” Kiyohiko asked, panting heavily. Saki poked her head out of the bushes and nodded.

“Yeah. He’s already turned the corner.”

“See… this is why I extremely don’t like kids…” Masaru frowned. He turned his stare on Hans and hissed. “I thought we got rid of all of your explosives! You little sneak!”

“It was crooked!” Hans protested. “Eleventh wanted me—”

“—us!—”

“—okay, us, to sniff out the crooked stands! What else was I going to do?!”

“Uh, I dunno, warn me?” Kiyohiko said, his voice deadpan. He was about to speak again when he heard a gun cock into position right behind his head. Turning around slowly, he found it was a kimono-clad Reborn sitting lazily in the bush.

“Come Yohi; it is time to visit the festival.”