CHAPTER SEVEN
The round piece of half-cooked batter was flipped expertly in the air, falling onto the sizzling grill with a smooth splat.
Ryoga looked at the perfect okonomiyaki browning on the grill and then looked down at his poor attempt with a grimace. It had the aspect of an amoeba.
"That one's ready to flip, son."
Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself and carefully placed the edges of each spatula under the hardening batter.
"Remember, it's all in the wrist," Mr. Kuonji advised. Ryoga nodded, wetted his lips nervously and flicked the pancake wannabe upwards, watching it turn in the air and land heavily… on his face. The shapeless piece of cooking slid down very slowly, leaving a soft-yellow trail on its descent.
Strangled noises beside him indicated that his teacher was trying really hard not to laugh.
Pressing his lips together, he detached the thing off his face and threw it into the trashcan by his feet.
"It's okay, kid…" Takeo patted his back reassuringly, a slight tremble in his voice indicating he hadn't quite managed to control the bubbling laughter yet. "We'll try again."
"Oh, dad… I admire your optimism, but this lesson was doomed to failure from the beginning."
"Hey!" He protested, quickly grabbing a dishcloth and wiping his face when he noticed she had walked into the restaurant. Mr. Kuonji had decided three days ago that he would teach him how to cook okonomiyaki with such eagerness that he had been unable to say no.
"At least he doesn't stick them to the roof anymore," Mr. Kuonji defended him with a shrug. "That's improvement in my book."
Ukyo snorted and he sent her a glare, but that only caused her to laugh. "Oh yeah, I can totally see how he's improving already." She grabbed a wet dishcloth from the kitchen and walked behind the grill, towards him.
"You don't need to be mean," he mumbled grumpily, crossing his arms on his chest. "Just because you've been flipping okonomiyaki since you were like, three, doesn't mean it's easy."
"That's why the members of the Kuonji family start training at such a young age," Mr. Kuonji pointed out.
"And that's why I don't see the point in this…" Ukyo mumbled.
"He's becoming a part of this family," Takeo reasoned. "He should know his way around the grill."
"Dad, he's going to be my husband, not a co-worker," Ukyo said as she grabbed his chin with one hand and dabbed the cloth above his left eyebrow with the other. His face was set aflame by her closeness and the gentleness of her touch.
"I know that, but still, teaching him a few basics won't hurt. You don't know when it can come in handy," the man said while sliding a perfectly cooked okonomiyaki onto a plate.
Rolling her eyes, she conceded, "Alright, dad." Then she looked at him and mouthed the word 'sorry'.
"It's o-okay," he whispered, trying to stay still while she cleaned his face. He wondered if she was even aware of what she was doing.
He had found himself wondering the exact same thing in numerous occasions for the past two weeks her father had been staying, actually. Ever since they had established that they should be more openly affective in front of Mr. Kuonji, Ukyo would do things like randomly place a hand on his arm, or scoot closer when they were sitting on the couch, or hold his hand or arm whenever she needed to lead him somewhere instead of dragging him by the sleeve, or—this one was his favorite—simply brush his hair out of his face with a tiny smile directed at him…
It wasn't that this bothered him—quite the opposite in fact, even if he was still a bit jumpy and blushed like an idiot. She never seemed to have had a problem with physical contact, considering how she had held his hands and even hugged him a couple of times before, but it had never been in a romantic fashion. Now, though, her touches were sweet and loving, and even though he knew she was just pretending, it made him feel all kinds of weird.
To make things even more confusing, he hadn't been able to dismiss the fact that he was not at all against the idea of her behaving like that towards him, his thoughts swirling around pointlessly because this was just a staged engagement and she would never actually touch him that way if it wasn't for—
"…in the world are you?"
He blinked back into reality, focusing on the pretty blue eyes that were looking right into his.
The heat on his cheeks intensified. "What?"
She let go of him and left the cloth on the counter.
"I just kinda lost you for a moment there," she giggled, starting to scrap the rest of batter off the grill with a spatula, "what were you thinking about?"
"N-nothing important," he said as he grabbed a spatula and started to help her, realizing they were alone now, wondering when had Mr. Kuonji left.
"Were you thinking about the temple?" She asked in a soft voice. He shrugged since he couldn't tell her what he had been thinking unless he wanted a large spatula flattened onto his head.
Ukyo looked troubled. "I'm sorry this is taking way more than it should."
He scrapped a rather large, blackened chunk off and threw it into the trashcan.
"It's okay. I'm actually impressed we've been able to pull it off for so long."
"Told you, you could do it!" She elbowed him playfully, beaming at him. "It hasn't been as hard as we'd thought, has it?"
He watched her clean up the grill, her hair bouncing up and down her ponytail, a contented smile on her pretty face, and he felt a smile of his own tugging at his lips, all worrisome and pointless thoughts pushed to the back of his mind as he let himself get drawn into the daily routine.
"No, it hasn't…"
"What's that?"
Ukyo jumped at the intruding voice, letting out an embarrassing squeak and sending the marker flying in the air.
"Goddammit Ryoga! Stop sneaking up on me like that!" She hissed.
"I wasn't sneaking up on you, I was just coming from the bathroom," he pointed out, and then tilted his chin towards the door. "What's with the sticky note?"
"We're taking the weekend off."
"O-kay…? And you're sticking a note outside your bedroom door at two a.m. because…?"
"I'm not waking up my father this late to let him know we're not working tomorrow."
"I see." He bent down and retrieved the marker. "Couldn't you just tell him before he went to bed?"
She felt her cheeks heating up. "No." She made a move to get the marker but Ryoga dodged her hand.
"You know your dad's not gonna like it."
"I am aware of that fact, thank you," she retorted, trying again to snatch the marker and failing, "but we've been working for two weeks straight. We need a break. Especially you."
His eyebrows shot up. "Are you being serious about that? Because I could definitely sleep a whole day through."
Guilt churned in her stomach and she made a grimace. She knew Ryoga was exhausted, and it made her feel rotten. Not only the poor guy was making a huge effort putting up with her father and role-playing as her fiancé for way more time than what they had agreed on, but he also had been dragged into her working routine as well, because she couldn't had left him unguarded for too long before he somehow managed to disappear to India. She had to admit that he wasn't that bad now that he was kind of familiar with the apartment, however, she still wasn't letting him out of sight for too long.
"I know, and that's why we're taking the weekend off."
She giggled when he handed her the marker with a toothy grin. "That's awesome."
Ukyo scribbled on the sticky note and got into the bedroom, sliding the door closed. She giggled again when she noticed Ryoga was already in bed.
They had put away the sleeping bag since summer was drawing on and nights were starting to get warmer, so he now laid on his futon by the side of the bed with a new set of bedding she had gotten for him, blanket up to the waist.
"I'm going to sleep in tomorrow," he stated firmly as she got into the bed.
"Me too." She turned on the night-lamp on the right side of the bed, opposite the futon, so the light wouldn't glare directly on his face.
"When I'm on the road, I don't usually sleep in. I tend to get up when the sun rises…" She leaned over the edge of the bed, resting her chin on her bent forearms, and looked at him with a smile. Somebody was chatty tonight. "I don't know why I'm so tired."
"Maybe because you don't usually go to bed at two a.m.?"
He nodded. "I always try to set up camp before the sun goes down. I walk around for the most part of the day and train practically every day," he stated with a frown, "and here I am, beaten for sitting on a stool for two weeks. I don't get it."
A laugh bubbled up her throat, "Yeah, that's called working. Welcome to adulthood, sweetheart."
"Hey! Just because I don't have a steady job doesn't mean I've never worked before," he protested.
This piqued her interest. "Really?"
"What? Did you think money just magically appeared in my backpack?"
Well, didn't she feel silly now. She glared at him, "Smartass."
He chuckled, bending an arm under his head.
"I don't usually make that much but it helps me go by, you know? Food and stuff…"
"What have you worked on?"
One shoulder rose. "Most odd jobs were heavy labor and stuff."
"Suitable," she smiled.
"I don't want to keep doing that forever, though."
"What would you like to do, then?"
"I don't have a clue." He said it so matter-of-factly that it made her laugh again.
"Well, if it's any help, you're doing a great job with the cashbox."
"Really?" His eyes sparked up and it felt very good for some reason.
"Yes." She nodded for emphasis. "So, what's the plan? After finding the spring, I mean. Getting a job?"
He snorted, "As if I would manage to commute every day to actually keep a job, if I ever happen to find one."
"Hey, maybe you won't get lost anymore, remember?"
Whatever he had been about to say was cut off by a wide yawn, fangs sticking out and all, and he was looking so adorable that it made her chuckle.
"Go to sleep, Hibiki."
"But we're not done talking." She could almost hear the pout in his voice as she turned the night-lamp off.
"Yes, we are. Even though I like it when you get all chatty, you're exhausted. Go to sleep."
"Fine… good night, Ukyo."
"Night, honey."
She couldn't help but laugh when he snorted at the nickname, then the room got quiet and she closed her eyes, letting her body sag onto the comfy bed. Her roommate's breathing lowered into a steady rhythm, lulling her into slumber.
If somebody had told her two weeks ago that she would be sharing a room with the Lost Boy and enjoying their late-night talks, she would have laughed on their face and called them crazy. She would've never imagined she would enjoy his company this much…
As days had passed, Ryoga had proven to be very responsible, trustworthy and quite helpful. He worked really hard, complied to all that she would request and he'd always tried his best to help her if she needed him to, even doing things on his own to ease her workload. His help had turned out to be a pleasant surprise. And even more surprising was that she had come to enjoy their time together off-work as well. Whether they would talk late at night, or watch a movie sitting on the couch, or spar whenever they could make the time to do so, she had found herself looking forward to those moments. It was nice to have someone to share a joke with or to talk about something that bothered her, especially when that someone seemed to understand her. She actually liked spending time with him. This newfound companionship with the Lost Boy was quite interesting. Too bad it would end once their charade was over, maybe it could have turned out into a nice friendship, given time.
As she drifted to sleep, she wondered if her father would stay long enough for her to find out…
Hello everyone! I can't believe I haven't been writing in three years… three! But now I've found myself with a lot of free time since I cannot work due to quarantine (I'm from Argentina), and I'm slowly falling back into the rhythm, although I'm a bit rusty, so be patient with me. I hope everybody's doing well, concerning our current worldwide situation; please be safe and stay strong. I hope I can bring at least a smile to you in all this. THANK YOU to all of you who are still there, reading and reviewing…
A big hug to all of you.