Saionji and Kanae were once more seated in the tea shop that was becoming their habitual meeting place. Kanae was staring at the cup in front of her and picking at the smooth linen tablecloth with her pale pink fingernails. Saionji sat very straight, staring resolutely not quite at Kanae, the tension in his shoulders like a wire being pulled through the muscles. They took turns, as they always did, trying to bring up a topic of conversation that didn't stagger into silence.
"Do you remember Kiryuu Touga?" Saionji asked, immediately regretting bringing up something so significant in his life.
Kanae looked up sharply, eyes narrowed. "He used to work for my husband," she said bitterly. "Akio spent too much time with him."
"Far too much time," Saionji agreed. He clenched his teeth, willing himself to stop saying such revealing things.
"He left suddenly."
Saionji faltered, struggling to think of a way to bring this line of conversation to a halt. Surely, Kanae would realize the necessity of it, if he could just give her some idea of his connection to Touga. After all, she had been the one to greet him when he had arrived at Ohtori just before Touga's sudden departure, as she put it. But he couldn't figure out how to begin.
"Someone like that," Kanae continued, "everyone is always sure they'll succeed in the end. But with what I know..."
That look in her eyes, it was alarmingly familiar. But Saionji couldn't place it.
"There were rumors, you know, about what he did. And then nothing. No inquiry, and the family didn't pursue it."
Saionji had been in no position to hear the rumors circling Ohtori's halls since he had attended school there ten years ago, and he felt desperately uninformed. What was she referring to?
"But I knew the boy. I could still contact him, if I wanted to. And maybe if I did, if he knew I would do that for him, he wouldn't keep so quiet."
An understanding of what the rumors that Kanae had mentioned were about swept down on Saionji in a breathless rush. Unable to withstand another moment of her accusations, Saionji rose unceremoniously. "How dare you?" he snarled.
Kanae's eyes widened in shock.
"How dare you threaten my friend just because he got too close to your husband?"
"Your... friend?" she repeated in disbelief.
But Saionji didn't wait to listen to her. He stormed out of the tea shop. He only paused outside for a moment, but in that moment, he felt Kanae's fingers clutching his arm.
"Wait!" she pleaded.
How quickly had she moved, to catch up with him? A tear was already glistening on one cheek. The instant he looked down at her hands on his sleeve, she withdrew them with a gasp, blushing at her own impropriety.
"Please," she whispered, blinking away tears, "please don't leave me."
He was immobilized by indecision. He never should have come, never should have gotten so close to her. It made everything so complicated. He hated to see her so unhappy, but no matter how he looked at it, there was nothing he could do for her. Her bitterness was too great for him to bear, and too pungent for him to ignore.
"But even if you're his friend," she continued, between soft sobs, "you should listen to me, you should know-" she froze.
Only when he saw Kanae flinch did Saionji realize that his hand was raised to strike her. Appalled that he had only just caught himself in time, he lowered his hand and stepped back.
"I'm sorry," she wept. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't ever call me again," he hissed, and turning, fled.
Himemiya. That look in her eyes had been just like Himemiya.