AN1: I do not own Itazura na Kiss. Still.

AN2: This was written to counteract the anguish I had to go through with my last story (Intermission). I am hoping that this one makes you laugh instead of cry.

"Please! Enough!"

"And you call yourself a professional athlete? All I see is a pitiful wuss. Give me five more knee lifts."

"Aargh!" The perspiring man managed one but only lifted the weights a quarter of the way the second time before letting them drop down with a clank. "Mercy! Come on, Ai-kun! Give me a break!"

A hard plastic clipboard smacked the top of his head none too gently. "What have I told you goobers about calling me that?" Kotoko shifted to his side and pointed to his face. "What is my name?"

Eyes crossed on the digit inches from his nose, he answered, "Aihara-san."

"Right." She pulled a pen from behind her ear. "And, Mido, if you don't manage four more of these bad boys, then '-san' is going to change to '-sama' for the rest of the week."

He scowled, grunted, and began to lift the weights in a slow regular pattern. The words "terrifying", "sadistic", and "overbearing" may have been muttered, but the observing therapist ignored them. She had heard much worse.

"Aihara-san!" called Matasuura Yoshiko, the nursing supervisor who technically oversaw the sports rehabilitation center. (With her other myriad duties, she was more than happy to leave its day-by-day management in the capable hands of Kotoko.) Standing at the door of Kotoko's office, she scolded, "Again with the old-school note-taking. After all the money that Vissel Kobe spent to make this facility high-tech—and for you!—still you persist with paper notes!"

Kotoko raised her head and blinked at her. "I'm such a klutz that we'd be replacing an electronic tablet at least once a week. I'd rather the money go to something that directly impacts the patients."

Indeed, the main reason that Kobe University Hospital had the shiny and sparkling addition for their expanded physical therapy program was due to the young woman patiently transcribing her handwritten scrawls. After completing the program at SuSe, she had joined the local professional soccer team as their on-site trainer and therapist.

That position had only lasted a year. The actual work of the job itself was not overly onerous; it was the after-hours demands on her time that got her goat. There was a certain cadre of team members who, for whatever reason (probably their exceptional talent and accompanying ego), believed themselves exempt from particular team rules. Her old friend from childhood was a member, if not the leader, of them. She had received one too many late-night calls from Shitara to arrange for safe transportation and a back entrance to the team hotel after a night carousing.

Of course, superfluous errands such as that were not gratis. Those particular team members were always assigned extra sets of suicides during the next day's training. These additional exertions interacted poorly with the weak dispositions left over from their previous evening's adventures. She provided several buckets at the sidelines for their convenience; sometimes the players were able to make it to them before emptying their stomachs.

In addition to putting up with what she referred to as "grown men acting like juveniles", the travel time away from Naoki made neither of them happy, so she managed to find a job at the hospital where he was completing his training. The soccer organization saw this as an opportunity to gain some positive public relations points as well as improve the level of care and rehabilitation that the team might need without having to construct an expensive complex for their sole use. The facility's two luxurious suites could please even the pickiest of VIP patients who needed to stay on-site; although the space was primarily designed for Vissel Kobe team members, other sports teams and various celebrities also took advantage of its services—at a premium price. As a result, when the proposal was made to the hospital, Kotoko's name was praised so highly that Naoki informed her that, at that point in time, he trailed her in employee value for bringing such a heady combination of funds, esteem, and publicity.

The supervisor moved on to the purpose of her visit. "Well, at any rate, the facility and your success have received so much acclaim that we have been inundated with requests for internships. The first nurse to shadow and learn from you will arrive next month."

"What?" This was not as welcome news as might be anticipated. Kotoko usually had to take on an overly strict persona, sometimes even rude, with new patients who either saw the petite woman as a pushover or as an object of desire. This was not exactly the image that she wanted transmitted to the rest of Japan.

Despite Kotoko's protests, she was forcefully reminded that the decision had been made by the higher-ups so she had no opportunity to change it. "You should be honored that so many want to study your methods and techniques."

She argued, "Well, If I'm going to have my steps dogged by a bunch of newbies, why not schedule them all at once, instead of one at a damn time and spoiling the rest of my life?!"

"Language, Aihara-san," Matasuura reminded her. "It is the desire of the hospital planners that we share our knowledge with the most reliable applicants. Since they need time to investigate and evaluate them, they have decided to space out the sessions."

"In other words, dole out the information a dribble at a time?" Kotoko asked sarcastically. She had mastered the Irie eyebrow several years earlier and used it when the occasion required it. This one, she felt, met the proper criteria.

"That's not the way it will be described to the public," the supervisor demurred.

"Which means, that's what it means," Kotoko muttered as she saved her incomplete notes about Mido on the computer, deciding to come back to them later.

Matasuura handed Kotoko a folder with several sheets stapled inside. "This is the dossier of your first student. Please review his background and at least memorize his name by the time he arrives."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She took it and flipped it open. "Mm-hmm, mm-hmm. Well, crap."

"I hate bureaucrats!" Kotoko hollered as she entered the small house that she and Naoki shared.

He emerged from the kitchen, drying his hands. "What have they done now?"

"Just decided to make my life miserable for the next few months," she grumbled.

He caught her around the waist and pulled her close. "I hadn't heard that they were shipping one of us away and separating us," he said before kissing her.

She patted his cheek as they separated. "Pretty cocky, aren't you?"

"About how you feel about me, yeah." He grinned. Even with his crazy fluctuating schedule separating them, it was better than when she was on the road with the team.

"Well, you're right on that, but wrong on what's pissed me off." She pulled a beer out of the refrigerator and took a swig. "They're making me teach visiting nurses my super-power techniques. Those, of course," she collapsed on the couch, "are mainly stubbornness and meanness."

"At which you are so eminently successful." He set a bowl of noodles and beef in front of her. "Eat," he gestured, "you usually feel better with some food in you."

She made a kissy-face at him. "You know me so well." As she brought it to her mouth, she asked, "How about you?"

"Already ate." He ran a hand through his hair. "Only a few more days and I'm off the night shift for awhile."

She looked at the clock. "Rats! When are you leaving today?"

"Pretty soon, I'm afraid. I thought I'd get there a little early to review some patient records before evening rounds. Eat quickly and I'll wash the dish—"

Kotoko dove over and caught him tight as she kissed him passionately. "Come on! I've spent three weeks sleeping alone. You only need a couple minutes to speed-read and use your idiot memory for that."

"Well," he answered, getting into the spirit of the matter, "you're right, although I do have to remind you that it's 'eidetic'. Hey!" he said as they crashed to the floor, "What's the hurry?"

"I'm making up for lost time."

A half hour later Kotoko finished slurping the last of the by-now room temperature noodles. As Naoki came out of the bedroom, having had to replace his shirt due to missing buttons, he asked, "So when does your training torture begin?"

She gulped the last of the broth then padded to the kitchen with the bowl. "Next month, right after Golden Week. But the kicker is that the first one is from a very familiar college. Tonan University!"

"Really? Did you recognize the name?"

"No, and I really didn't notice when he graduated high school. His name's Keiga, Keito, something like that, with two K's."

He shook his head. "Doesn't ring a bell with me. He could have come from anywhere."

"Well, all I know is that he's going to be here the next few months, making my life a living hell."

"Now, Kotoko, don't exaggerate." Naoki pulled her to him and fastened the remaining buttons on his shirt that she was wearing, then tugged on her shoulder-length hair. "How long are you going to let it grow this time before cutting it off?"

She shrugged. "Who knows? Until it starts irritating me keeping up with it long."

"Well, I could help with that. I still remember your high school style pattern."

She laughed merrily. "Good times! I might take you up on that, if your schedule can settle down."

"Speaking of which," he leaned down and kissed her farewell, "I've definitely got to go now. Make sure you put more clothes on in case someone drops by, like your boneheaded soccer friend."

"Okay." She tugged him back down for one last kiss.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning," he promised. "Dream of me."

She closed the door behind him. "Well, at least he distracted me from my horrible day. Who knows," she said aloud as she picked up the remaining clothes thrown all over the living room, "it might not be as bad as all that."