7/26/01
Via: Hikari Rei Mail Exp.
Dear Hiei,
At
the moment I’m already on my way Florida- you wouldn’t BELIEVE how long the
delay was for my flight. What made things worse was that I had to pass through
the security gate seven times! It was horribly embarrassing… I may have become
somewhat ‘humanized’, as you would call it, but my first instincts taught me to
bring some emergency defenses. You would imagine, then, that all my defenses
were tucked away in my hair. I plainly forgot that some of my plants contain
high concentrations of metallic elements! How stupid! I had to stand in front
of the security guard and empty my all my locks! People were wondering how long
it has been since I last WASHED it!
Oh my, Yusuke never told me about the… explosion… at his house.
I’m assuming that he thought it best NOT to tell me, as I was already tied down
at work. I remember, vaguely, Kuwabara leaving a message on my answering
machine about Yusuke having to stay with them at late Genkai’s temple for a
duration. Ah… yes, it makes sense to me now. His voice sounded relatively
frightened as he spoke into the recorder. The poor man, I sincerely hope he
faired well enough with the Urameshi brood.
Hiei,
children aren’t at all that terrible- however, I do admit it would be very
scary keeping a liter of Jaou Enatsu Ken masters around. For me, well, I’ve
recently been thinking about it. I’d actually like to have a little me scampering
about the house… but, with any luck, not stealing and killing things.
Unfortunately,
I haven’t met any human women who keep my interests. Come to think of it, I’ve
NEVER met a human woman who even elicited my interest. Perhaps, I’m too fussy?
I don’t know, it’s hard talking to people who don’t know who I really am. Worse
yet, most females talk and cling too much- and I’VE been mistaken for one.
I’m
going to take a small nap for now. The trip will be pretty long, and I have
hours to kill. I’ll write again, once I check into my hotel room and have
something decent to eat (I don’t care if I’m on Nippon Airlines; airline food always
tastes like tomato marinated plastic).
Always,
Kurama