When Tocho finally left after another hour or so spent comforting his friend, Shinjuku felt relieved enough to nap for a while. He was so exhausted that his sleep was mercifully dreamless, and when the sunlight woke him he felt at least somewhat prepared to face the challenges he knew the day would bring. There was silence from his bedroom, and he was sure Michi wouldn't stir anytime soon…which was just as well, he figured, as it would give him some much-needed time to think. At any rate, breakfast had to be attended to. He made his way to the kitchen and began pulling out ingredients for miso soup. He enjoyed cooking—was quite good at it, actually, though not as accomplished as his brother Reiji—and somehow he found it cleared his mind. While his hands worked at a moderate pace, his thoughts sped on ahead….

Better not say a word until after breakfast. Just small talk while we eat…if I play my cards right, I'll get her to drop some clues…then gradually steer the conversation to what's bothering her…subtly, of course…before she knows it, she'll be telling me everything…oops, damn that slippery ladle...Come on, Rintaro, you're an old pro at this, right? No one knows the workings of the female mind like you do…absolutely nothing to worry about…it'll be a piece of cake…hey, why is this glass so sweaty?...of course, one wrong move and I'll get a purse in the face…or worse, she'll clam up and I'll never get it out of her…maybe she'll never trust me again—

"—DAMN!" he swore through clenched teeth as the soup pot came crashing down, spilling its carefully-nurtured contents all over the kitchen floor. For a moment he stood staring at it as if he could somehow mentally reverse the action, like hitting a rewind button. But one of Shinjuku's virtues was that he was quick to accept things and move on. He glanced at the clock and smiled.

I'll have time to clean this up and make a manju run.

He was about to set the table when he heard her moving around in the bedroom. Perfect timing, he thought. Things always go your way in the end, don't they, Rintaro? He chuckled and couldn't resist a self-satisfied sweep of fingers through his hair, Shinjuku that he was. He looked down at the picture-perfect arrangement of manju and ocha. So far, so good. Now comes the hard part, he reflected with a sigh.

"You're a little old to be sighing like that."

"What are you talking about—I'm sighing because I'm old." He smiled and turned to face her.

She had rummaged around in his closet until she'd found something she could wear: sweatpants she'd rolled up and cinched tightly, another t-shirt, and an incongruous Italian silk tie which she fingered in response to his raised eyebrow. "Oh, this? Well, you see it's not often that I have guests over, so when I do, I like to dress up."

"That's very considerate of you."

She gave him a bow that was half-mocking and half-sincere. "One does what one can," she replied airily. Then she straightened and looked him full in the face. "Well, we'd better get it over with."

"What?"

"My lecture. You said I had one coming. Let's get it over with so we can both enjoy that delicious breakfast you've laid out."

He regarded her in silence for a full minute while she continued to stare at him with a strange mixture of patience and defiance. Finally he averted his gaze. "Michi," he began, gently but firmly, "you were too young to be at that club."

"What do you mean? You were there and you're even younger than I am."

Shinjuku didn't know whether to laugh or swear.

"I'm a train station, Michi."

To keep from screaming at her he reverted to the smooth tones of his ladykiller banter. "You should know better than to put yourself in harm's way, koneko-chan."

"And you should know better than to lecture me, Rin-chan," she countered with a wink.

Concern for her made him reckless. "Damn it, Michi, be serious!"

She turned tired, childlike eyes to him and smiled. "I'm always serious," she said quietly. "You of all people should know that."

Shinjuku sighed and smoothed his brow.

"You're right. Forgive me. I can't expect you to trust me if I don't trust you first." He turned to her and grinned. "So, Mi-chan, shall we sit down to a nice breakfast and just talk for a while?"

Michi threw her hands in the air. "Finally!"