The flat – screen monitor cleared itself of text and an image of Hinata House filled the background. A turtle shaped window opened, occupying the left portion of the screen, populated with several words of text in column.
Steve, wiping his eyes with the palm of his free hand and still gasping for breath, looked down at Kitsune. "So," he said, voice almost normal, "is that the roster you were looking for?" He choked out another laugh and held his plate sized hand up. "No, no, I'm sorry… I'm done. Heh."
Kitsune rolled her eyes. She turned her face to the screen and her attention focused. "That's the main menu." She walked in front of him and stepped to the screen. Her finger touched the word "LOCATOR" and another turtle shaped window appeared, filled with icons representing each Hinata House resident. "Let's see where everybody is at…"
She pressed her own grinning face and a transparent schematic of the main Hinata House opened. A graphic of a nine – tailed, red furred fox appeared in the space designated as the Lobby and began blinking. Next to the fox, a question mark began to blink as well. "System has scanned you, Steve. You're the big- assed question mark." She grinned and winked up at him. "Definitely the right reference."
She pressed the icon for Keitaro Urushima. A shovel appeared in room 203, the building manager's apartment. The shovel began to spin. "The landlord, Keitaro, is here. He's working, though."
"Based on what I've seen in the last few minutes, I could make a comment…" Steve interlaced his fingers, reversed his hands and extended them in front of his body, resulting in a large cracking noise from his knuckles. He smiled winningly down to Kitsune. "…but I won't."
"That type of restraint is wise, big boy." She turned from the screen, reached up and pinched his cheek, causing his self – satisfied smile to slip. "You're a – learnin.'" She released him. Surreptitiously, his hand crept to the cheek and rubbed.
"So, you like to tease the poor guy…" he asked, finally. "I take it he's the 'brother' you talked about?"
She nodded. "It's been pretty amazing to watch him grow up." Kitsune smiled, eyebrows raised, in an expression of disbelief. "Keitaro is not only the landlord, he's a pretty well respected archeologist." She leaned forward and whispered theatrically, "Heh. This may be an inside joke, but Keitaro's success proves that miracles really do happen."
Steve frowned in puzzlement. "Shouldn't he be exploring a 'dig' or something? What's he doing here, research?"
"Nope. Thanks to more tech magic…" Kitsune tilted her head. She stared at his face for a moment, her eyes moving back and forth as they examined his features.
"What?" he asked, uncomfortable with the scrutiny.
"You look like hell, honey. Those bruises and that cut over your eye…" she chuckled. "You look like a real dangerous guy. And…" she tapped her chin with her finger.
"I'm okay, thanks. Really. 'Tech magic?'" He prompted.
She blinked and then resumed her explanation. "Anyway, so that he could stay close to home Su built Keitaro a 'virtual simulator.' Right now there's some kind of expedition in Central America that requested his help and they've got 'virtual Keitaro,' a little robot turtle thingamajig with a camera that transmits information from the site to him here. He does his thing for them and everybody's happy." She snapped her fingers. "And, he uses it to help out with another dig in Molmol that's been going on for years…"
"But, why didn't he just go if he's so in demand as an archeologist? Doesn't he have to get out there?"
She sighed. "His wife is pregnant, and he won't leave her side for anything." She smiled again. "It absolutely shows what kind of guy he is… I tease him and give him a hard time, but it's because I love him. He can be a wuss and an idiot and a clumsy perverted fool who some days can't find his ass with both hands…" Her smile did not change. "But he is absolutely the truest soul that I know."
Her finger moved over the screen, to the smiling icon of an attractive young woman with two unruly shocks of hair. "Speaking of Naru…" In the other room of the building manager's apartment a graphic appeared of two hearts, red and pink, one inside the other, beating in rhythm. "Oop, Naru's home with her hubby. She's in the bedroom, I'd say she's taking a nap before dinner."
Quickly, Kitsune went through the other icons listed: Shinobu Maehara (the graphic of a box of matches and a red hood) was scheduled as being at a late class at Tokyo University; Koalla Su (the omnipresent three – eye – triangle) was listed as 'location unavailable'; Motoko Aoyama (a golden bird in flight) was listed as in transit from Kyoto; Mutsume Otohime (a ripe watermelon with a pair of round rimmed glasses) showed a location of the Tokyo University library; Ema Maeda (a lizard) was listed as 'location unavailable.'
Kitsune blew upward, pushing strands of hair away from her face. "Well, that explains why you can't smell food." She shrugged and looked over her shoulder at Steve. "We're on our own for dinner."
His stomach growled loudly. Looking slightly abashed, he shouldered his backpack and ducked his head to avoid the square light fixture near the desk. "So, seems like a lot of you go to Tokyo University…"
She began to laugh. She shook her head, winked at him and shuffled past in her slippers, heading down the hall opposite the front entrance. "Let's get some fuel."
"What? What did I say?" He trailed after her.
What happens after we eat? She thought as she walked. It would be absolutely rude and ungrateful to send him away. Besides, she checked her watch, it's almost half – past nine.
She turned her head and looked at him trailing her down the hall. Even as obviously tired and bruised as he was his green eyes were alert and curious, looking into those open rooms they passed and admiring a hallway tokonoma with its floral decoration. I don't know how I feel. But, I don't want him to leave. Not yet…
The walked into the dining area and passed the long low table on their way into the kitchen. Kitsune fumbled with the light switch in the dark room, filled with lingering ghosts of spices past. The LEDs came to life, reflecting from the metal surfaces and tile walls of the House kitchen. As if in recognition, Steve's stomach again growled.
"The kitchen." Kitsune said dramatically, extending her arms. She sat gracefully down on a stool next to the thermal tea server and spun on the circular seat, back arched and one leg extended with pointed toe, the other bent with the foot hooked into a brace between stool legs.
Steve dropped his backpack near her seat and walked around the kitchen, until he was standing on the rectangular patterned rug in front of the stainless steel sink. It seemed that he gazed out of the four – paned window, until she realized that the window, facing darkness as it did, was now a mirror and that he was observing her profile reflected in the glass. She felt a low heat on her cheeks and sat a bit higher on the stool.
"Hey." He said finally, "Do you mind if I try and fix you dinner?"
" What, you don't trust my cooking? You had no problem with the meal at the café." She arched an eyebrow and frowned. Not that I cooked it, and it was Shinobu's recipe prepared by the staff chef… but he doesn't need to know that.
He held out his large hands in a placating gesture. "No, not that at all. It's just…" he shrugged, "Let's just say it's a habit, okay? I cook."
"Rrrrreally?" Kitsune purred, leaning forward on the table, chin perched on the back of one languid hand. She closed one eye in a slow wink. "So, let me get this straight…" she began, addressing his back as he began to open cabinets, drawers and the refrigerator door. She lost track of what she was trying to say as her eye followed the shape of his body through his clothes: the flex of his shoulders as they moved, the thoughtful cast to his face as he did his mental tally of possible ingredients, and his strong, confident movements as he maneuvered through the unfamiliar space. He squatted suddenly, bending his knees and bringing his eyes closer to a lower level cabinet. His rear was nicely outlined against the fabric of his pants.
"Um, err…" she stumbled, eyes opening wide. "Let me get this straight… you're tall, very strong, help damsels in distress AND you cook?"
He shot her a glance over his shoulder and she saw a flash of white. "Yup."
"You…" she concluded, "…must be a serial killer." She waved her finger at him, crossing her legs. "Or some kind of deviant personality, attempting to lure a defenseless and innocent maiden such as myself into your web."
He stood up straight and slowly turned. "So, you've figured me out…" He shuffled closer towards her at the table, eyes wide, head twisted to the side. He leaned over the table until their noses were inches apart, and she again marveled at his features and the depths of his eyes. "You don't have to worry, " he whispered, "because I think we both agree the innocent maiden thing…" he shrugged slightly, crows feet showing at his eyes as he grinned, "…ain't you." He abruptly backed away and turned back towards the sink. "I happen to think that the sexiest women are mature and confident in themselves."
She grinned. After a moment, she frowned. "Mature? You better not be talking about my age, pal."
He chuckled as he began to pull ingredients from their various locations in the kitchen and placed them on the counter. "Why is maturity a bad word, Kitsune? It means that you're better now than you were when you were younger." Closing the refrigerator door, he flipped cucumbers in the air and caught them deftly, placing them on the counter with tofu and stalks of bok choy. "I apologize, by the way, it looks like you're out of cabbage. I'm substituting bok choy." He retrieved several mixing bowls from cabinets above the counter and began measuring lemon juice, wasabi powder and other ingredients into them.
"Fine with me. What are you making?"
"Some good, quick recipes my mother taught me, salad – type stuff from where she was born in Kyoto. I've got to tell you…" he half- turned from the counter, "Whoever keeps this kitchen is an expert, it's amazing."
"I'll pass that along, I'm sure Shinobu will appreciate it." He nodded in response as he began to whisk his mixture in one bowl with quick strokes. If he's cooking, I should get booze.
"Hey, Steve? There's beer in the refrigerator, but I'll be right back with something special to drink with dinner. Private stock." That bottle of Karatamba should do nicely…. Um, I didn't drink it already, I don't think..?
She shuffled through the kitchen as he placed a mixing bowl in the freezer. Stopping at the doorway, she turned back. "You do like sake?"
He looked up from a shitake mushroom, knife in hand. "You bet." He smiled. "I'd love some sake."
"Okay." She kicked off her slippers began to jog down the hall to the staircase.
The Karatamba was still in her mini – fridge and nicely chilled. She had actually finished the Daimon Shuzo, junmai ginjo from Osaka, the other night while cheering the ponies on. That was a shame, based on our talk about innocence and maturity I could have gotten at least two good shots in with the sake as a prop. Bottle neck in her fist, she bounced down the stairs two at a time. I wonder where this energy is coming from?
She could smell and hear heated oil as she neared the kitchen. The table was partially set with some of the square green ceramic plates that Shinobu loved, and an opened bottle of Waoh pale ale dripped condensation on a paper towel in front of her stool. In a serving platter next to the plates, Steve had served thin cucumber slices, coated in some type of spice mixture. He stood at the stove, sipping from a bottle of Sankt Gallen pale and shifting mushrooms in a wok over the stovetop. She put her slippers on again and shuffled into the room, blowing stray strands of hair from in front of her eyes.
"Have a cucumber." He invited. "They're actually supposed to be chilled but, hey, what you gonna do?" He quickly left the wok, went to the freezer and removed the bowl he had placed there, then resumed his station at the stove minding mushrooms. He took a wire- frame ladle and began removing marinated tofu from the bowl and placing the pieces in the wok.
She placed the sake bottle on the table, picked up her beer (removing the towel that came up with the sweating bottle) and took a long pull. The cucumbers did look inviting, so she took his advice. The spice – coating seemed to be a mixture of vinegar, salt and ginger, and very good. The moist crunch of the vegetable served to deepen her hunger and before she knew it she had eaten several of the slices. She licked spices from her fingertips, then heard a stool pull out and realized that he was sitting at the table across from her.
"Either your concentration on food is amazing, or you were goddamned hungry, Kitsune." He smiled and reached across the table to place a bowl in front of her. "Here you go, Seyama – style shiitake and tofu slaw." He toasted himself and took a sip of his beer. "Thanks, Mom."
"Wow!" She said, and meant it. The browned tofu and mushrooms were tossed into a bed of bok choy and covered with a fragrant dressing. It smelled divine and she told him so.
"Thanks. Now, let me know how you think it tastes." He raised his eyebrows, and then started in on his bowl.
They had finished eating and had cleaned the kitchen together. Kitsune found two antique cups decorated with the kanji for Honor and Strength and poured the sake.
They toasted the meal and Steve for preparing it, then again toasted Steve's mother for passing down such delectable recipes. Kitsune utilized the natural segue to indulge her curiosity.
"Okay, big boy, it's finally question and answer time…" she leaned back on the stool, crossed her legs and winked at him. She allowed her half – grin to spread slowly across her face. "You're mom is from Kyoto and you speak Japanese with a kansai accent but you're an American…" She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head in a prompting gesture.
"Mom's family moved to California, the Bay – area. Dad was in the army based at the Presidio. They met…" He smirked, "…this is really lame. They met while shopping for souvenirs." He grunted a laugh, grinned at her and folded his arms. "So, I'm an army brat. I lived in seven countries before I hit eighteen." He shrugged and drained his cup. "Despite how much she loves dad, Mom was horrified that I might become completely gaijin and so she gave me some pretty intensive lessons on 'civilized culture and language.'"
Kitsune leaned forward and refilled his cup. "So, why are you here? I mean, at Hinata. Did you already visit Kyoto?"
He took a sip from his cup, and then another. It seemed to her like his cheeks were coloring, although with his tan it was difficult to tell for sure. "I've been to see my relatives in Kyoto on several occasions. About ten years ago, when we performed our visit to the Fushimi Inari Taisha shrine on Hatsu- uma I literally got sick on kitsune cookies." He grinned. "I wasn't in a position to appreciate the irony until today." He drained his cup and stood. "Um, bathroom?"
She gave him directions and as he walked away she ran her fingertip along the slightly rough rim of her ceramic cup. And Hinata? That was a nice little story about Kyoto that didn't answer any question. She leaned both elbows on the table and cupped her chin in her hands. I'm in no position to force him to talk about what he's doing here. But… I really want to know. She gave a smile filled with self – mockery. And if he's trying to keep some thing private that I want to know, well, he doesn't stand a chance. He's played right into my strengths, poor man: prying into other people's business, manipulation and drinking. She made a sound that could have been a laugh or a sob. As much as you try, you can't change who you are. I really want a cigarette.
As soon as he comes back, he's going to change the subject. That will mean he doesn't want to talk about why he's here. She frowned again. I hope he doesn't, I hope that this is just a bathroom break and I'm reading too much into this…
Steve returned, smiling. "You know, I don't think I'm going to be heading back to my hotel in Tokyo tonight. I'm thinking I should talk to the landlord now and see if I can rent a room for the night." He bent over, retrieved his backpack from the floor and slung it over his shoulder. "Hopefully, given the circumstances, he'll justify allowing a man to stay in a girl's dorm. Could you lead me to his room?"
Kitsune stared up at him with a blank face for a few long seconds. Then she smiled brightly, her knuckles white around the cup of sake. "Sure, Steve. Let me finish my drink." She threw down the remainder of her drink and then planted the cup onto the tabletop with a loud rapping sound. "I tell you what, " she said, "just in case, I'm going to bring the bottle."