Ameripangled

Honestly, I'd never seen a more enthusiastic girl. The way Kiku leapt about after taking ground was comparable to that of a hyperactive jackrabbit. Don't get me wrong; it was quite amusing. Especially when she started arguing with herself.

Now, I may not be the brightest candle in the batch, but even I could catch on that Kiku kept having doubts over this whole ordeal. Of course, this only meant good news for me. Since her morale was breaking, I could soon break her into giving me back my satchel.

Just after I exited the cave she was already going at it.

First, in disbelief: "I can't believe I did this."

Then, excitement: "I can't believe I did this…!"

And the worry: "Mother would be so furious…"

Kneeling by a nearby pond, she experienced denial: "I mean, that's okay. What she doesn't know won't kill her, right?"

In a nearby cave, realization: "Oh my gosh. This would kill her!"

In the leaves, while I was picking at my cuticles for the slightest error while she kicked up a pile of and ruined my precise concentration: "This is so fun!"

And then, on a tree trunk: "I am a horrible daughter. I'm going back."

On top of a hill: "I am never going back!" She then proceeded to cartwheel down said hill, wrapping her body in her hair with a squeal (which I had to admit was pretty cute).

But right afterward, we took a sitting break in that hill while she lamented facedown in the grass and flowers: "I am a despicable human being!"

And then, while swinging around a tree: "Best! Day! Ever!"

And finally, sobbing by a rock.

I've never met anyone so bipolar.

Finally, I decided to take initiative with my own plan. If I could use Kiku's guilt to make her take me back to the tower, I'd get my satchel back and she'd be out of trouble. Everyone would win! So I approached her, knowing just what to say because, as Matt Williams, I was oh-so-suave.

"You know, I can't help but notice you seem a little at war with yourself here," I pointed out, as if I'd just now finally put the pieces together.

She looked up with big, redding eyes and asked, "What?"

I decided to go the sweet route, since that'd probably be the most convincing. "I'm just picking up bits and pieces here. Overprotective mother. Forbidden road trip. I mean, this is serious stuff! But let me ease your conscience—this is part of growing up. A little rebellion, a little adventure, that's good! Healthy, even!" Seriously, even I convinced myself with that wonderful speech!

At this, Kiku brightened just a bit. "You think?"

And now, time for part two. "I know!" I replied knowingly. "You're way overthinking this. Trust me. Does your mother deserve it? No. Would this break her heart and crush her soul? Of course. But you've just got to do it." God, I was good.

"Break her heart?" Kiku repeated, devestated.

I noticed a small berry sticking out of her hair and I picked it out. "In half," I emphasized.

"Crush her soul?" That's when I knew I had her right where I wanted her.

Squishing the berry, I added nonchalantly, "Like a grape."

With a slight nod, Kiku clutched her hair. "She would be heartbroken; you're right."

"I am, aren't I?" And I even said that without sounding arrogant. Oh, this was going to be easy. "Oh, bother." I pretended to act crushed. "All right, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm letting you out of the deal."

Now she was really in disbelief. "What?"

Oh, I was so close!" I just needed a bit more. "Don't thank me," I continued, picking up the white thing and the frying pan, ushering her back toward the tower. "Let's just get you home—here's your pan, here's your… thing. I get back my satchel, you get back a mother-daughter relationship based on mutual trust and voilà! We part ways as unlikely friends." Ha! I totally had her!

"No!" She stopped walking.

Damn it; so close.

"I'm seeing those lanterns," she told me confidently.

Breaking my cool, I exclaimed, "Oh, come on! What's it going to take for me to get my satchel back?"

As she pointed the frying pan at me, I immediately backed off. I didn't want to get hit with that again. "I will use this," she warned.

The suddenly, a rustling in the bushes. Before I knew it, Kiku was climbing all over me, hanging on for dear life. I mean, I know I'm irresistible, but even Matt Williams has boundaries.

"Is it ruffians? Thugs? Have they come for me?" she asked quickly in a panic.

Gee, paranoid much?

Out from the bushes hopped a fluffy baby rabbit.

I rolled my eyes. "Stay calm. It can probably smell fear," I deadpanned, clearly unimpressed.

Slowly Kiku stepped down with an embarrassed blush. "Sorry…" she apologized. "Guess I'm a little bit jumpy…" She giggled uncertainly.

A plan B was starting to formulate for Operation-Get-Kiku-Back-to-the-Tower-So-I-Can-Get-Back-My-Satchel was underway. As was a new operation name. "Probably best if we avoid ruffians and thugs?" I asked.

"That'd probably be best," Kiku clarified with a nod.

With that, I grinned. I knew where the nastiest ruffians and thugs hung out. "Are you hungry?" I tried to keep the subject light. "I know a great place for lunch."

At the sound of "lunch," Kiku smiled happily. "Where?"

"Oh, don't worry…" I began to lead her in the definite wrong direction. "You'll know it when you smell it."

Honey, prepare to be educated and scared shitless.