by Kate Grove
“Would this someone else happen to be the lovely foreigner staying at your castle?” Yuki asked. She had the same irritating smile playing on her lips as Takeru. Katsuo crossed his arms and stared at her, wiping his features of any emotion.
This only made Yuki smile. Her twinkling laugh enveloped them.
“What is so amusing?”
“Still, I’m just curious why you’d like to spend dinner with only the two of you there?”
“We have some business with each other.”
“I see…” Yuki was eyeing him with suspicion in her gaze. Eventually, she looked away. “Well, I hope you’ll enjoy dinner. Actually, I won’t be attending either.”
“Why not? Takeru and Ayaka would love to spend more time with you,” Katsuo asked, puzzled.
“I have some business to attend to, too. I’ll be nearby, don’t worry.”
“Are you leaving?”
Yuki turned to her grandson and put her hand on his shoulder.
“Soon, possibly, but not tonight. There are a few inquiries I need to make.”
“Regarding… them?”
Yuki nodded and let go of him. She looked at Katsuo with a serious expression on her face.
“I see.” His voice was sad, and she immediately understood his mood.
“Katsuo, you know I look out for my family,” Yuki said. “And I wanted to visit you. It’s just coincidence that this happened while I was here.”
“You told me once there are no coincidences,” Katsuo said.
Yuki sent him a sad smile.
27
Katsuo waited in his study, hoping to finish up some tasks before dinner was ready. But the paperwork was completed, and he was hungry. Still, there was no sign of dinner. He picked himself up and went in search for Ciara, heading in the direction of the kitchen. He let his nose lead him the rest of the way.
He smelled cooked meat and something else. It reminded him of noodles, but it had an unusual scent. Intrigued, he quickened his pace and reached the kitchen soon. Katsuo could hear humming over the sound of the bubbling water. As he peeked through the open doorway, he saw Ciara leaning against the counter, watching the pot over the fire like a hawk watches its prey.
She quietly hummed and tapped a rhythm with the long wooden chopsticks in her hand. A few white streaks ran along her face, and she nodded her head to the rhythm. Katsuo was bewildered when she suddenly erupted in singing and dancing. She used the chopsticks to drum on the nearest tabletop whenever the choreography allowed her to do so.
It took all his willpower to remain a silent statue standing in the doorway. He was bewildered, and Ciara was enchanting and beautiful as she danced. Her singing voice sounded heavenly. Katsuo observed her for a few more moments then stepped in just as she made a twirl. He caught her mid-motion, making her lose her balance. As he held her close, Ciara gripped his arms, still holding the wooden chopsticks in her hand.
“Oh. Hi,” she said, and he could see red creeping up her neck. She cleared her throat. “How… how long have you been here?”
He started humming the song right from the beginning.
“Oh no!” Ciara buried her face in his chest in embarrassment.
“Your dance was…” Katsuo started, and Ciara hunched. “…very unique.”
“Shut up,” she mumbled, playfully slapping his shoulder with her free hand. They heard a hiss from somewhere behind Katsuo.
“Oh no! The ravioli!” Ciara jumped out of his arms and ran to the pot over the stove. “Oh no, oh no, oh no! It’ll be overcooked!” She looked around frantically.
“What are you looking for?”
“Where I can pour the hot water out?” She asked, eyes wide. Katsuo hurried over to her and grabbed the pot.
“Let me.”
In the end, he poured the hot water into an empty basin. By some miracle, he had managed to keep the pasta in the pot without the use of a sieve.
“Thanks, I think you’ve just saved our dinner,” Ciara said, taking the pot from him.
“You’re welcome.”
Katsuo looked around. The room was a mess; flour covered the entire tabletop, sometimes small bundles of goo smeared it, and a few cracked eggshells were neatly piled in a corner. He looked at Ciara. It was a wonder her hands were clean. She turned around. Even her white apron was clean.
“What is it?”
“Do you need some help?”
“Oh, I’m good,” she replied. “Are you hungry? I’m just doing the finishing touches. It’ll be done in a few.”
“Good to hear.”
“So you were hungry,” she chuckled.
“It’s been a long day,” he replied.
“I imagine. You sound tired.”
“Do I?”
“No worries. You can drink some oolong tea for that.”
“Oh, you’ll make me some?”
“I didn’t say that,” she laughed, working on the pasta in the pot. “I’m not sure how to prepare that properly.”
“You don’t know how to make tea?”
“Of course I do!” she said, indignant. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “It’s just… different from home.”
Ciara turned back to stir the pot one more time. Katsuo was content to just watch her work. For the first time since before Ayaka had been kidnapped, he felt at peace. He pondered how nice would it be to spend days like this.
“Done!” Ciara stepped back with a huge smile on her face, drawing Katsuo out of his thoughts. “I did what I could, considering the circumstances!”
She stood there, admiring her work for a heartbeat.
“Now, how do I turn the fire off?”
Ciara wanted to tidy up the kitchen before they left, but Katsuo insisted they eat.
“And I pay people to do that for me,” was his final argument. Ciara caved in, but not after a small fight ensued, which ended up with Katsuo confiscating the kitchen rag she had found. He used this chance to wipe the streak of flour off her face.
He grabbed the pot while Ciara gathered the plates and Westerner utensils, and they set off for his room. After the tenth servant wanted to wrestle him for a chance to bring the pot full of pasta instead of him, Katsuo picked a less frequented route and they had no interruptions.
“You’re just doing this to confuse me, right?” Ciara sighed as they rounded yet another corner, ending up in a seemingly random corridor. Katsuo smiled, glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes.
“And you’re enjoying it! Please tell me we aren’t going in circles!”
“We aren’t,” he replied, “but this is the longer route.”
“I thought you were hungry.”
“Are you getting hungry?”
“Very much so,” Ciara replied, hoping to control the rumbling of her stomach. She didn’t succeed.
“I can hear that.”
“Look who’s talking,” she mumbled, glancing down.
They took a left turn, and Katsuo suddenly stopped. Ciara didn’t notice and bumped into him, losing her balance.
“Oh no!” She tried to keep her balance while still keeping hold of the plates, but her feet felt wobbly. She grabbed the cutlery and lifted her hands high in the air as she felt herself start to fall. She closed her eyes, thinking she might acquire a few bruises at most, but she couldn’t repair the plates if they broke. They were decorated with gold stripes, for gods’ sake! How much would it cost to replace them?
Ciara felt an arm around her waist as her fall was broken. She opened her eyes and saw Katsuo’s face from up close. She was captivated by his amber gaze, and the world seemed to pause completely. Katsuo held the pot in one hand and Ciara with the other. She could feel his muscles through her kimono. He had a strong but gentle grip on her.
“Are you all right?” he asked her quietly. Ciara was distracted for a second. Was it just her, or did his voice truly sound deeper than usual?
Eventually, she nodded and willed her legs to work. She managed to get her balance back, bu
t Katsuo still held her in his arm, and she was mesmerized by his intense gaze. He seemed to be closer than ever. Only an inch more and they could—
The plates rattled, and Ciara quickly glanced to her hands. Why, oh why were they acting up at this time? Such precise timing to ruin the moment!
“I’m sorry, can you—?” Ciara held out the plates between them as much as she could. Her hands trembled uncontrollably.
Katsuo looked at her with a question in his eyes but nodded.
“Sure, can you stand on your own?”
“Yes, thank you.”
He let go of her waist and grabbed the plates.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “But in turn, you will be the one to open the doors for me.”
“Sure,” Ciara chuckled as she made a fist with her hands, willing the trembles to pass quickly. “I can do that at least.”
They arrived at Katsuo’s room a few minutes later, and Ciara slid the door open. Her hands still trembled a little, and she wouldn’t dare carry any fragile items, but otherwise, the tremors had subsided to a manageable discomfort.
Katsuo put the pot on the table then set the plates next to each other. Ciara was a bit surprised at the arrangement, but it would’ve been rude to reorganize the sitting chart. Plus, she found she didn’t mind the close proximity to Katsuo.
Chill, you’re just pretending to be engaged, Ciara told herself, trying in vain to calm her fast heartrate. She kneeled down next to Katsuo and distributed the forks. Meanwhile, Katsuo took off the lid and smelled the steam coming out of the pot. Ciara finished her musing, But then why does it feel like we’re a real couple? Especially with that scene in the kitchen.
“So what is it called?” Katsuo asked, breaking her train of thought.
“Ravioli. Basically, it’s pasta pockets with fillings,” she explained. “I filled it with meat.”
“Oh, we have something similar here, although the shape is quite different,” he observed.
Ciara lifted the wooden chopsticks to get some ravioli out, but her hand wasn’t steady, and the pasta dropped back into the pot at every turn. Katsuo put a hand on hers.
“Let me,” he said, looking into her eyes, determined. She let go of the chopsticks.
Katsuo carefully fished out the raviolis.
“Thank you,” Ciara said and sent him a small smile.
“You’re very welcome,” he replied, getting some pasta for himself as well. Ciara leaned back and sighed a little. “What is it?”
“I was just thinking how fortunate the trembles came after I was finished preparing dinner.”
A short silence followed her words as Katsuo finished his task.
“Does this happen often?”
Ciara shrugged helplessly.
“It happens every now and then. Sometimes there’s nothing for days then suddenly… this,” she held out her hand. The trembles had subsided but were still detectable. “Not sure if they’ll ever fully go away.”
“What happened?” Katsuo asked, genuinely concerned. Ciara looked at him for a long moment, debating how much should she tell him. How much could she trust him? Maybe if she took away anything related to the future…
“I was in an accident. Our car-rriage was hit by another and we…”
For a terrible moment, her ears were filled with screams and her vision with crimson. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt her breath hitch. The sight of the glass shard sticking out of—
“It’s all right, you’re all right.”
Katsuo’s hand on her shoulder startled her out of the flashback. She felt her tense muscles gradually relax. As she blinked, a single tear escaped her left eye. Disturbed, she quickly wiped it away but didn’t expect to be covered in a big hug the next moment.
Ciara froze on contact, but soon hugged Katsuo back, gradually calming down in his embrace. He stroked her back in silence. She realized all she needed was a hug. When was the last time she was embraced like this? A couple more tears escaped her eyes, but she willed them to be the last ones. She felt completely safe and at ease in Katsuo’s arms. It was a foreign feeling.
Finally, she withdrew and wiped at her face.
“Sorry, and thanks.” She sent him a smile.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about.”
“Except maybe the pasta getting cold.”
Katsuo chuckled.
“Well then, let’s eat! Itadakimasu!”
“Itadakimasu!” Ciara echoed. They both started eating.
After a moment of silently chewing the first ravioli, Ciara couldn’t wait any longer and asked Katsuo’s opinion.
“It’s… different,” he said, pondering on his reply. “I like it! The flavor is stronger than what I’m used to. Very good!”
“I wish we had cheese, though.”
“What for?”
“Back at home, we put grated cheese on it. I think that makes it more delicious,” Ciara explained, picking up a ravioli with her fork. “I looked around but couldn’t find any kind of cheese in your pantry.”
“Judging by your tone, I think I must remedy this.”
“You’re ought to!” Ciara chuckled. “But I’m glad you like it even without the cheese.”
Ciara only ate a small portion, as she wasn’t very hungry, but was pleased to see Katsuo finish off the pot completely. They chatted light-heartedly during the meal, and her hand injury wasn’t mentioned again.
28
After the meal, Katsuo kept Ciara talking, hoping to find out more about where she came from, but the more he heard, the more he became enamored with her. He was so caught up in the topic, he almost missed the signs of Ciara getting exhausted, the drawn-out blinking and her answers getting slower and shorter. When he noticed her stifle a yawn, he realized it must’ve been quite late.
He enjoyed her company, and despite the hour, Ciara’s attention had never waned. As much as he wanted to continue having her in his presence, he had to steer her toward the door. She was having a hard time keeping her head up and rested it in her palms, elbows on the table. Ciara was facing him, and a slight smile played on her lips. Katsuo averted his eyes.
“It’s getting late. You should go.”
Ciara blinked slowly, as if she was surprised. She straightened and turned around, looking for something, but eventually faced him.
“How do you know?”
“You’re sleepy.”
“Am not!” she said indignantly then tried to cover her yawn.
“You are. I’ll not have my guest exhaust herself.”
“Ah, am I your guest? Am I not your fiancée?”
Katsuo stopped for a moment at that unfamiliar word. He repeated after her, prompting her to explain.
“Yes, you are.” Katsuo agreed when hearing her words and helped her up. He led her to the door and slid it open for her.
Ciara stood outside, slightly puzzled.
“Your door is over there, just turn to the left” Katsuo pointed to the intersection three doors down. “Would you like me to escort you?”
“I think I can manage,” she said, rolling her eyes. Katsuo raised his eyebrows. He was a mere child the last time someone dared to roll their eyes at him. Ciara padded toward her door, and Katsuo turned back to gather the pots and plates. He put them all just outside his door, thinking how great it would be to spend most nights like this one.
A scream tore through the night, immediately alerting him. It came from Ciara’s room. Katsuo ignored the ringing in his ears and hurried over to her. She was retreating to the corridor, her face paler than usual.
“What happened?” Katsuo asked and quickly ran his gaze over her form, looking for any sign of injury. Ciara looked at him and pointed inside her room.
“Th-there’s…”
He heard a small noise from inside, and Ciara did, too, because she snapped her gaze toward it. She stood at the doorway like a statue, pointing a trembling finger at something in the room.
Katsuo arrived behind her and peeked over her shoulder. He sighed in relief when he saw what caused the fright.
“I really do hope that wasn’t a sigh of relief, because—”
“Relax, it’s just a snake.”
Ciara came out of her shocked stance and turned a sharp gaze on him.
“Did you just hear what came out of your mouth?”
“It won’t hurt you. Trust me,” Katsuo said and entered the room. Ciara moved away but made sure to have the snake in her sight.
“I trust you, but I don’t trust the snake.”
Katsuo squatted down to swoop the white snake around his shoulders. He had a firm grip on its neck, keeping its head away. Then he started walking toward the door, and Ciara quickly cleared the way for him. She looked at him with wide eyes.
“How can you be sure it won’t hurt you?”
Katsuo stroked the head of the animal.
“It’s a symbol of my clan. It won’t hurt me.”
“Does the snake know that, too? Because to me, it doesn’t look like—”
The animal hissed at her, and Ciara shut up. She even jumped a little at the strange sound.
“Nope, most definitely not,” she shook her head, retreating.
“That was not very nice.” Katsuo looked at the white snake. Ciara suddenly had the feeling he might not be talking to the snake, but her. Or maybe he admonished both of them, as absurd as it sounded. “I’ll take care of it. Rest well.”
“As if I can after this,” Ciara muttered to herself and headed toward her room. She noticed Katsuo going back to his room. “What are you doing?” She hurried after him.
“I’m letting it go.”
“In your room?” Her voice sounded near hysterical.
“Not the worst idea, but no,” he replied as he reached the window and leaned out, putting his arms outside. The snake didn’t move. “Go on. You’re free,” he urged it, and Ciara was surprised to feel a smile creep up her lips. He was talking to the reptilian like Karen talked to her black cat.
Finally, the snake slithered down his arm and out the window.
“Aren’t you going to—” Ciara finished abruptly as she realized there was no glass on the window. It was basically a hole in the wall.
