89 Airport Pickup
Dungeon Points: 3114 – 38 = 3076. Sunday, nine days left until Brigit’s Japan trip.
I wake up the following day and throw on my workout clothes. I run to the dojo. Today, I’m training with Musha. After a warmup, we move to a small ring. The floor is covered in mats for safety.
Musha’s imposing frame towers over me, and her muscles ripple as she prepares to teach me. “We’ll start with grappling. It is the best way to demonstrate your strength!” Musha excitedly explains.
“Alright,” I state with a determined nod.
“We’ll start with takedowns,” Musha says. First, Musha explains the technique and then displays it to me. After this, I attempt to take down Musha. Her solid stance and strength makes it very hard to pull her down. Sometimes, I end up hanging off the powerful woman.
After a few hours, I’m panting and sweaty, while Musha hasn’t perspired at all. I feel frustrated that I couldn’t even give her a workout. “Huff, huff, sorry.”
Musha laughs and slaps my back. “You’re doing good for your first time. It’s just like we thought you have great kinesthetic intelligence,” Musha happily praises me.
“It doesn’t feel that way,” I pout while tightening my ponytail. “Oh yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask for your phone number.”
Musha rubs the back of her head and replies, “We don’t have anything like that.”
“Really!” I say, shocked.
“Our moms never had them hooked up. We don’t really need it.”
“If that’s how you feel. It does make it hard to contact you, though,” I say, a bit frustrated.
“You can just have someone send a message,” Musha states as if it’s obvious.
“I. It’s pretty unusual to send messages by hand,” I say, looking at her like she’s an alien.
Musha gives me a surprised look, “That’s how our family communicates. It is a bit rough right now since we are between generations.”
“Yeah, you mentioned that before. It’s just you and Ayame right now?”
“There are a few servants, too. They spend most of their time cleaning.”
I nod, “I can imagine this place is huge. Ah! But I have to get going. My friend is flying in.”
Musha frowns, “I wish you’d train more. But you aren’t from the family, so I can’t force you.”
I place my hands together and apologize again as I head for the door. “See you next time!”
“Bye,” Musha waves to me as I head out.
By the time I run home, I’m completely exhausted. I flop into the car and brace for the harrowing drive to the airport. We start down the road as I catch my breath.
Brigit asks, “So, are you going to map it?”
“To the airport?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright,” I respond. I pull out my phone and tap on the app ~EEeeee~ the brakes squeeeeal as the car swerves back and forth. “What happened!” I shout.
“Nothing. I just had to itch my foot and stepped on the wrong pedal,” Brigit informs me.
“Please, Mom, protect us,” I murmur while finishing the routing. “You’re on the fastest route,” my phone informs me. “Can you please focus,” I beg my sister.
Brigit retorts, “I am focusing!” Her muscles are tense, and her knuckles are white as she clenches the wheel.
“Actually, maybe you need to relax a bit,” I decide to suggest. “Take some deep breaths. I know you can do it.”
After deep breathing, Brigit settles down and only drifts into traffic ten or so times and almost crashes five times. “Good job, sis!” I say, giving her a thumbs up. I instantly feel I made a mistake as Brigit gives me a proud smile.
We park and head in to wait for Cynthia. It doesn’t take long for her to call me and tell us her gate. We drive over, and I see her, my best friend! She has on a light sun dress that doesn’t hide her fit tan body. I jump out the door, and we fall into each other. We give each other a powerful hug.
“Yeee! I can’t believe you’re here!”
“I’ve missed you so much!” Cynthia yells. She leans into the nape of my neck, and I hear her sniff. “You’re still working hard,” She teases with a smirk.
“I blush. I didn’t have time to showEEerrr~” I begin to make an excuse but am cut off as my best friend licks my neck.
Cynthia giggles, “I love your smell.”
“Geez,” I smack her shoulder, “you’re always teasing me like that.”
“I’ve never lied about it,” Cynthia retorts with a toothy smile. Honestly, I can’t tell.
Brigit complains, “We’ll get in trouble if we take too long.” She points to a sign with a ten-minute limit.
“”Sorry!”” Cynthia and I intone. We laugh as we throw her small carry-on into the trunk. “Is that it?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
Brigit slaps the top of the car, bang, bang, “Let’s go!”
I jump in the back with Cynthia. Cynthia looks at me and asks, “I just noticed Brigit is driving?”
“Yeah, Mom’s covering for me at my job,” I say. “I did ask her.”
“Has she gotten better?”
I shrug, “A bit. Mom said I need to give her a chance.”
Brigit looks over her shoulder as she pulls ahead out of her spot. “Stop worrying so much!” BBBBBBEEEEEPPPP! A car blasts its horn as it swerves out of the way.
“Look at the road!” Cynthia screams.
“Everyone knows to get out of the way,” Brigit says with strange confidence. Did my compliment go to her head? I worry.
Brigit seems excited to show off how good she’s gotten at driving. I made a huge mistake. I cry as she speeds and goes all over the road. Thank goodness traffic was light, or I would have died, I think, as we reach home.