A Little Saintly Intercession (My-HiME)

This one is...actually, it'll be third in line to be posted among new "Duran and Kiyohime's Omake Theater" stories, but I just wrote it today and I'm posting a sneak peek of it here in honor of the fact that Demon gave me the idea for it in the first place. Yes, the final HiME, Sister Yukariko, finally makes an appearance in the series!




Duran-kun and Kiyo-chan's Omake Theater

(featuring the Ishigami (nee Sanada) family...sculpture?)

A/N: This story is dedicated to Demon from the dareyoutoloveme forum (she's LittleDemonInside at fanfiction dot net). I was complaining about the fact that I just couldn't think of anything possible to do with this series and Yukariko, and she promptly ripped off about six perfectly viable ideas for Yukariko and chibi-form St. Vlas that I could use. Since this story basically *is* based on one of those ideas, a huge thank-you is owed to her. Thanks, Demon!

~X X X~

"Drat!" Yukariko Ishigami said as she was jostled by a shopping cart, causing her to fumble the daikon radish she'd just selected and drop it into the bin, which set off a mini-landslide of root vegetables cascading to the floor. In fact, the situation probably called for stronger language, but growing up in a convent school plus a short career as a nun really hadn't prepared the young, blonde housewife for the proper use of profanity.

Another cart crashed into her own basket. Yukariko's son Makoto gurgled from his baby seat, the one-year-old waving his pudgy arms.

Really, Fuuka needed more markets to shop at, Yukariko decided. She hadn't appreciated how lucky she was to have access to the Fuuka Academy cafeteria while she'd been serving at the chapel there. Especially around holidays, when it seemed the entire population of the city had descended upon the markets to lay in food for when they were closed.

Father Joseph Greer (no, he wasn't a priest, she reminded herself, just a robotics engineer working secretly for the Searrs Foundation) had noted how Japan was similar to Europe in how people shopped more often for only a meal or two, while in America they'd go to a giant supermarket and lay in a month's supplies in one fell swoop. Which, she supposed, just meant for bigger crowds in a larger building fighting for a longer time with bigger, even more overflowing shopping carts.

Eventually, though, Yukariko managed to win her way through to the other side of the job, with all the ingredients she needed for hot-pot (or in other words, she'd grabbed up whatever she could lay hands on and hot-pot was the only thing she could make that would use the rather eclectic collection of stuff). With a deep sigh of relief that she hadn't shamed herself by seizing one of the wretched, sinful heathens—er, shoppers—by the throat and inflicted some extreme penance for their sins of discourtesy, such as stuffing their head into a watermelon, she began to unload her cart onto the checkout counter. The clerk, looking weary but still managing a smile, glanced warily at the baby, then began scanning through Yukariko's items.

"There you are, Mrs. Ishigami. Your total is three thousand, eight hundred and fifty-four yen."

Yukariko opened her purse and reached in for her wallet, having to nudge Makoto the side since the purse was slightly jammed under the seat to keep someone from stealing it in the confusion. He made another happy gurgle.

"Your son is always so well-behaved whenever I see him here, Mrs. Ishigami," the clerk said. "Lots of children his age would be crying and screaming when it gets so busy."

"Oh, no, that's not true at all," Yukariko instantly demurred the compliment as politeness demanded, even though she was happy that the check-out girl's life had been made a little easier by Makoto's happiness. "Any praise belongs to St. Vlas."

The clerk's eyes flicked to the gold crucifix Yukariko wore around her neck.

"I'm sorry; I don't know much about Christian saints..."

Yukariko smiled gently.

"Well, that's not quite what I meant," she said, and rested her hand on the forehead of what looked like a foot-tall statue of a unicorn's head and neck, like a white knight from a chessboard, that was snugged into the cart next to the baby seat. The CHILD's eyes were gleaming, and Yukariko felt a twinge of envy for Makoto, wrapped as he was in an illusionary world without any screaming, banging, pushing, and shoving crowds to bother him!

~X X X~

A/N: Here's a place where I prefer the fan-translated name for a CHILD, 'cause, well, the whole joke kind of goes away if the "Saint" gets dropped off the front of his name. And if anyone knows if Yukariko's child is actually given a name (and for that matter, a sex) in any supplemental materials, art books, etc., please let me know, since I just arbitrarily assigned him one.

Now slightly edited (with a more explicit forum ad) and posted online:

A Little Saintly Intercession

Thanks again, Demon!

Good job!



And props for Demon having a clever idea too

shanejayell wrote:And props for Demon having a clever idea too

Thanks. ^///^

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I'll type a review soon, Dezo! =)

Demon wrote:

shanejayell wrote:And props for Demon having a clever idea too

Thanks. ^///^

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I'll type a review soon, Dezo! =)

I look forward to it.