written for
drabble_trade The Magic Number
by omi
Horio was positive he found the perfect solution to his cousin's little problem.
"All we have to do is just make sure that we don't spend too much time together," said the brash young boy confidently to the girl with ribbons in her hair.
An hour and seven minutes later, the boy came back, wet and bedraggled and smelling faintly of fish.
"Half an hour!" he insisted.
Forty-two minutes later, he escaped back with long scratches on his arms and legs and a particularly nasty gash on his head.
"Fifteen minutes!"
As it turned out, fifteen was the magic number.