A/N: Hello everyone! I'm back! :) One thing led to another, and so on and so on - but here it is at last!
Since it's been a while, I gave you a chapter that's longer than my usual ones. Remember that super awkward, super awesome Tae/Sou moment I promised you guys? Yeah, it's totally there (I may or may not have been secretly looking forward to this scene since I came up with this story...)
A quick shout-out to the wave of new followers I got: welcome! :D
Please do review, and please enjoy!
Chapter Seven: In Traffic of Wit
Kenji was nearly bouncing up and down by the time Yahiko came by the dojo the next morning. "I'm ready!" He called, hopping down the steps to meet Yahiko halfway. "I'm ready, let's go!"
Yahiko grinned down at the little boy. He wondered if Kenshin had ever been that excited at the proud age of four, and supposed that if he was, he might have looked just like little Kenji, all bundled up in his thick winter coat. "Alright, alright," he told the boy. "You warm enough?"
"Yup!"
"You sure?" he pressed. "It's a bit of a walk to the Akabeko."
Kenji scrunched up his face into a frown. "Yeah, I know. And otōsan already asked me about that, twice." He turned to glare over his shoulder.
Yahiko looked up to see Kenshin silently watching them, his hands tucked up under his sleeves. Yahiko nodded in greeting. " 'Morning, Kenshin."
"Yahiko." The tone of his low voice made Yahiko's skin prickle. Kenshin sounded serious, and seemed to be in no mood to participate in playful banter. "Do you remember what you said last night?"
"Of course," Yahiko said lightly, but he felt his spirits begin to sink. He didn't want to begin the day with another defense of Soujiro's qualities. And he hated arguing with Kenshin, anyway - even if he knew he was right, it always felt like he was wrong somehow by contradicting him.
Kenshin stared at Yahiko, his violet gaze firm. "Be cautious. Take care of my son."
Coming from Kenshin, Yahiko knew the expectations would be high. "I will," he promised, but couldn't help adding, "but Soujiro's alright, really. You just haven't met him yet."
"This Soujiro..." Kenshin's eyes darkened at the name and he looked away. Yahiko waited, watching as Kenshin sighed, his breath clouding in the cold air. Slowly the red-haired man shook his head and shut his eyes. His words, when he spoke, were guarded. "There were moments last night, when... there were memories that came... that were remembered from that name..."
Yahiko blinked. It took him a moment, then suddenly he knew. "No," he said immediately. "No, that's impossible. I mean, it's been five years."
Kenshin didn't reply.
"Sou's not that Soujiro - he's not scary enough for that," Yahiko said dismissively. "Besides, why would the Tenken work as a waiter at the Akabeko? That's just plain stupid."
His eyes softened slightly at Yahiko's words. "The thought is strange," he admitted quietly.
"And someone would totally recognize him," Yahiko continued pointedly. "I mean, I think I know the Tenken enough from all your stories to recognize him if I saw him. The Soujiro that's here now - he's just another swordsman. The name is common enough. The real Tenken probably died in the mountains somewhere."
Kenshin smiled - that small smile that was meant to convey comfort, but Yahiko wasn't deceived. "I hope you are right, Yahiko."
Yahiko raised his eyebrows at him. "I know I am. Don't worry about it. Kenji will be safe with me."
At the mention of his name, Kenji began tugging on the fabric of Yahiko's hakama. "Stop talking and let's go," he complained. "I wanna go, I wanna go."
Yahiko glanced over at Kenshin, waiting for permission, and Kenshin slowly nodded. Kenji, who had also been watching his father, crowed with delight and began to pull more insistently on Yahiko's leg. Yahiko grinned and allowed himself to be towed along. "I'll bring him back after lunch," he called back. "Don't worry."
"Remember what you promised," Kenshin reminded him.
That's right: keep Kenji away from certain people. Yahiko sighed but nodded. "I will. He won't even know we're there."
"Soujiro-san, will you see if it's still snowing?" Tae asked. She was kneeling beside one of the zashiki tables, systematically fluffing the cushions.
Soujiro smiled. He had been following behind her, placing chopsticks at each table in preparation for the noonday meal. "Of course, Tae-san," he murmured, setting his box down beside her. She gave him a quick smile before turning back to the cushions, but that small glimmer of affection was enough.
It was just more proof that Soujiro's plan was working.
That night two weeks ago had shaken him, at least in the beginning. Tae's skill of disguising her emotions had forced him to rely on her ki for insight to her feelings. Usually a person's ki was a mirror into their deepest thoughts, but not Tae. For the first time, Soujiro could imagine what it might be like for others who had tried to puzzle out his true emotions. No wonder the Juppongatana had never seemed to like him very much - even to them, his companions in the same cause, he had still been an enigma.
So he had left Tae's room that night wondering if he had failed, hoping that there was still time to smooth over his mistakes and get her to accept him once again. He had even begun to plan alternative strategies and additional steps he could take; obviously he wasn't affectionate enough, but that wouldn't be hard - he'd just have to mimic Yumi and Tae's reluctance would surely collapse eventually. He'd scrape together the money to buy her a new painting, he'd buy her the new shoes he'd promised, he'd purchase her affection if he had to -
...and then, just after he had extinguished the light to go to sleep, everything had changed.
Tae's ki, which Soujiro was already so attuned to, shifted slightly, then spiked. Such incredible warmth bloomed from her - tenderness, concern, and breathless affection - and it burst out like a wave so abruptly that he had frozen in place, his hand on the futon's blankets, ready to pull them aside.
Where had all that emotion been hiding?
Then he knew: Tae had hidden them from him. She hadn't wanted him to know. Through the years of working at the restaurant, she had acquired the skill to suppress her feelings and, at the same time, minimize her ki. That was why her professional mask was so seamless, and that was why she was so successful a business woman. Soujiro should have seen that before. Of course.
Then the realization hit him.
That warmth was for him.
He hadn't failed after all.
Tae was slowly falling in love with him.
In the darkness, Soujiro grinned with triumph.
The days since then had been easy. A gentle touch here, a lingering look there. He gave these small signs of devotion to her as often as he could, hoping to spark a sign of the buried feelings she had for him. Most of the time he was rewarded by a quick glance of surprise, a stubborn twitch of her lips, or cold silence. But yesterday, yesterday, when he abruptly asked her to go to that Western restaurant with him, he was gratified to see a faint blush of pink rise against her cheeks.
Tae cared about him. Even if she pretended she didn't, even if she acted like there was nothing between them, there was.
And he would make it more.
Soujiro trotted over to the front of the restaurant and ducked into the screened entry. He braced himself for the cold air that he knew would come bursting in and slid open the door -
- only to come face-to-face with Yahiko.
For a couple seconds they stared at each other, Yahiko in open-mouthed shock, Soujiro in pretend surprise. Then Soujiro smiled, about to greet him with some generic comment, when Yahiko's face scrunched up in dismay.
"Dammit," he groaned.
Soujiro tipped his head to the side, trying hard not to laugh. "That's an unusual way to greet someone."
"Damn it," he said again, and ran his hand through his hair. "I thought you'd be in the kitchen."
"Not today, I'm not."
"Just my luck." Yahiko sighed, the air hissing out between his teeth. He swore again under his breath.
"Damn eet!" A small voice echoed in a clear, high voice. "Damn eet, damn eet!"
Yahiko's face paled with horror. Soujiro leaned around him to see and went rigid with shock. A miniature Battousai stood just behind Yahiko, a huge grin on his small face. Everything matched: the exact shade of his striking hair, the gentle lavender of his twinkling eyes, the slim nose and delicately arched brows -
This is Himura's son, Soujiro thought. He did a quick sweep, just to make sure, but there was no mistake - the Battousai had not accompanied his son.
Interesting.
"No," Yahiko said, his voice laced with terror. "No, stop saying that word. It's not a good word."
"Damn eet! Damn eet!" The boy chirped.
"I mean it, stop saying that word. I am not gonna be the one to teach you a swear word."
"Swear word! I know a swear word!"
Yahiko groaned again. "Ugh, this is a nightmare. Your dad is gonna kill me. Twice," he added, sighing.
Soujiro considered the young man in front of him. There must be a reason why he would bring Himura's son to the Akabeko - especially without either of his parents. They must trust Yahiko very much, he thought, to let him bring the boy out alone.
But more important than that, they do not suspect me.
It had been something that Soujiro had considered, but never allowed himself to worry about. If Yahiko was really as close to Himura as rumors claimed, then surely he would have mentioned Soujiro to the Battousai. Which would have been no surprise - without a doubt, Soujiro would have reported it to Shishio if the roles were reversed. And although Soujiro supposed that Himura was a much softer man than he used to be, even five years ago, his son's appearance here meant one of two things: either he had chosen to believe that Soujiro was not the same one who served under Shishio, or this was a test to determine what the Tenken might do when faced with his enemy's child.
Soujiro knew better than to delude himself; this was absolutely, definitely a test.
Yahiko was still arguing with the Battousai's son. Soujiro cleared his throat. "And who is this?" he asked, gazing down at the boy with a look of mild interest.
Yahiko scratched the back of his neck. "Uh, well," he began uncomfortably, "this is - "
"I'm Kenji!" The child broke in, sending Soujiro a bright grin.
"Hello, Kenji-chan," Soujiro said. "My name is Soujiro."
Kenji thought about that for a moment. "I think I'll call you Sou," he said decisively. "That's what Yahiko calls you, and I'll call you that too."
"Fair enough," Soujiro said. "Did you come to have lunch at the Akabeko today?"
"Yup. But also to meet you, Sou."
He paused for a moment. Well, at least the boy was honest. "Now that you have, would you like to come in, Kenji-chan?"
"Just Kenji!" He said firmly, and for a second Soujiro caught a glimpse of Himura's stern, no-nonsense expression on the boy's small features.
"Sorry about that," Soujiro said and stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. "I didn't know we were so well acquainted."
"We are," Kenji said offhandedly, and skipped inside. Yahiko followed close behind, rolling his eyes at Soujiro when he passed. Soujiro grinned and shut the door behind them.
"Kenji!" Tae gasped in surprise as the little boy came barreling into her. "Where did you come from?" She patted his back and peered above his head, looking about. "Did you come with your mother or father?"
"They're both still at home." Kenji leaned back to grin at her. "Yahiko brought me."
She sent Yahiko a quick smile and bent down to tug playfully at the end of his ponytail. "It's been a while since you've visited the Akabeko, huh? I didn't notice when I came the other day, but your hair is getting so long. Are you going to cut it, like your father?"
Soujiro stopped in surprise. Himura cut his hair...? He tried to imagine the Battousai with short hair and failed.
Kenji stuck out his tongue. "No. I'm not gonna be like otōsan at all!" His twisted his head, pulling his hair out of her fingers.
Tae blinked in surprise. "That's okay, no one expects you to, Kenji - "
But the boy had tired of their conversation. He spotted Tsubame, who had just emerged from the kitchen, and raced toward her. Tsubame noticed him a moment later and bent down with a squeal, scooping him up in her arms. "Kenji, it's been so long!" She crooned, pressing her cheek against his. "You're so big! I can't believe how big you are! And you've gotten so cute!"
Yahiko sighed, but he didn't hide the smile that tugged at the ends of his lips. "They always make such a scene," he complained. "I'd better go break it up before she embarrasses herself even more."
Soujiro stood by Tae and watched as Yahiko went over to stand by Tsubame. He tried to pull Kenji out of her arms, but she resisted, exclaiming that the little boy was so kawaii! Kenji only laughed, pleased he was at the center of attention, and after a few attempts Yahiko gave up. He narrowed his eyes and tried his best to look annoyed, but it was obvious he was secretly pleased.
They will be married one day, Soujiro thought, gazing at them. If Kenji's hair were not completely the wrong color, Soujiro could easily imagine that the child was theirs. The happiness on Tsubame's face could not have made her look any more warm and joyful than if she really was a mother. And Yahiko was the picture of a bashful yet proud father, his hand lingering on Tsubame's elbow as if he, too, wanted to envelop them both in an embrace.
"Children don't like me," Tae murmured, breaking into Soujiro's thoughts.
He looked down at her in surprise. She, too, was gazing at Tsubame and Kenji, a sad smile on her face. "That's not true, Tae-san," Soujiro told her. "Kenji seemed very happy to see you."
She shrugged one shoulder, unconvinced. "Well, I suppose I should have said that I'm not very good with children. So I think that makes it difficult for them to like me back."
Soujiro frowned. Why did this concern her so much? "Children are just little adults," he said simply.
"I don't think so," she said. Then she glanced up at him, as if she had just now realized what he'd said. "Is that how you treat children? Like they're little adults?"
Now it was his turn to shrug. "Why not?"
For some reason Tae began to smile, but before she had a chance to respond, Kenji's voice called out from the other side of the restaurant. "Tae-san! I'm hungry!"
"You are?" She rose from the floor and reached down to brush out the folds in her apron. "Alright, I'll make you something - "
"No!" Kenji's eyes moved from Tae to Soujiro. "I want Sou to make it for me!"
Soujiro blinked in surprise. Next to Kenji, Yahiko scoffed. "You really are Kaoru's child, you brat."
Kenji's head whipped around. "Hey!"
"Alright, then." Soujiro bowed and gestured to a table. "Please have a seat, Kenji-san."
Kenji's eyes lit up. He wriggled out of Tsubame's arms and padded over to Soujiro. He plopped himself down on one of the newly-fluffed cushions and beamed. "I would like udon noodles and onions - "
"The drink comes first, stupid," Yahiko said, kneeling down on Kenji's other side. "D'you want some tea?"
He thought about it, then a huge smile burst across his face. "Sake!"
"No." Yahiko bonked the top of the boy's head with his fist. "You are not having sake."
"Ow..." The boy screwed up his eyes, his hands on his head. "Damn eet..."
"No!" Yahiko bonked him again. "You're not saying that word either!"
"I'll get you some tea," Soujiro said. He kept the smile plastered to his face, but sighed internally. Somehow he had expected the son of the Battousai to be... well, more like his father. But it seemed that the only thing Kenji shared with his infamous father was his visage. "What else did you want besides noodles and onions?" he asked, inclining his head respectfully to the boy.
Kenji looked up at him. "Um... you mean, besides the beef?" When Soujiro nodded, Kenji shrugged. "That's all!"
"That's easy enough," Soujiro said cheerfully. He bobbed his head again and headed off to the kitchens to request the order.
Kenji was a fast eater. By the time he had finished and had helped to clear away his plates, the first guests had begun to arrive at the restaurant.
"Are you ready to go back home now?" Yahiko asked, holding up Kenji's winter jacket by its stiff collar. "I told your parents that I'd bring you back after you ate lunch."
Kenji gave him a smug smile. "Nope, you said after lunch, not after I ate lunch. And lunchtime is just starting!"
Yahiko scowled at him. "Hey - "
"Besides," Kenji cut in, wheeling about to gaze up at Soujiro, "I wanna stay with Soujiro for a while."
"Oh?" Soujiro looked down at the boy before him. The child's ki was brimming with hope, with an undercurrent of curiosity and... mischief? That was an emotion that Soujiro hadn't felt in a while. The boy clearly wanted more than to just follow along as he waited on tables.
Yahiko gave him a look that said, you don't have to humor him if you really don't want to, but Soujiro only smiled. There would be benefits that would come from befriending the Battousai's son, that he was certain. He would be a fool to pass on the opportunity to gain Kenji's trust.
"It may be boring," Soujiro warned the boy, raising an eyebrow questioningly.
Kenji tried to mimic Soujiro's expression, but couldn't manage to keep one brow raised without the other tagging along. After a few attempts he gave up and crossed his arms. "We'll see about that," he said, his annoyance with himself making his voice petulant.
"Well, if you're sure." He shrugged lightly. "Then I don't mind."
"Hey hey," Yahiko protested as a victorious grin split Kenji's face. "If you're just giving in because of his face - "
"Face?" Soujiro gave him an innocent expression. "Does someone's face really have the power to sway emotion, Yahiko? I hadn't considered that before."
He scoffed. "Yeah, right," he muttered.
"Perhaps Kenji wants to become a waiter when he grows up, and that's why he's curious." Soujiro turned away from Yahiko to give Kenji a small wink.
Instantly the boy's puzzled frown vanished and he nodded. "It's always an option," he told Yahiko, with enough mock sincerity that Soujiro was impressed, despite himself.
There might be something to the boy after all, he thought, inclining his head politely to Yahiko. "There's your answer," he said smoothly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think I have some tables to attend to."
Yahiko sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah yeah, whatever. I'll be waiting in the kitchen when you're done."
Kenji waved cheekily.
From table to table, Kenji followed Soujiro as he went to take their orders. The customers gave Kenji a curious glance, but were too polite to ask why he trailed along behind him. Kenji himself didn't speak much while Soujiro was with the guests, and soon most everyone forgot he was there - like a little shadow. But Soujiro wasn't fooled. Kenji was watching, listening, observing.
Observing him.
Soujiro sent the boy a glance as he finished taking an order. Kenji's bright eyes were fixed on him - only a few times in the last hour had Soujiro felt the rapt focus of the boy's ki waver - and though his face remained deceptively serious, a small smile quirked the corner of his mouth. For such a young face, it gave very little away.
"What are you thinking of?" Soujiro asked quietly as he ducked out of the main room and made his way down the hall to the kitchen.
"Huh?" The boy skipped forward a few steps and leaned around to look in Soujiro's face. "You mean right now, or a couple seconds ago?"
Soujiro sent him a sideways look. "What were you thinking about while you watched me?" he clarified.
"Oh, I was wondering if you knew any ghost stories."
The answer was so prompt that it could only have been the truth. Soujiro's mouth twisted as he tried not to smile. "A plate with everything on it," he told the chefs, then turned to Kenji. "It's the wrong season for ghost stories."
Urato glanced from Soujiro to Kenji and grinned, but didn't comment.
"But ghosts exist all year long," the boy pointed out, "so I dunno why we only talk about them in the summertime."
Soujiro pressed a finger against his chin thoughtfully. "Hm, I never thought about that before. I guess you're right."
"So does that mean you'll tell me a ghost story?"
"Yeah," Urato chimed in as he finished chopping the noodles and started with the mushrooms. "Will you tell us a ghost story, kid?"
"A ghost story?" Nizuno's head poked up in surprise.
Soujiro waved his hand dismissively. "No, no. It's the wrong season for it, as I said." Not that he didn't know some good ghost stories - he did. All of them had come from Shishio, who took it upon himself to start out each summer with a scary ghost story. Yumi had always been appalled and covered her ears, but Soujiro made himself listen, knowing that if he never heard the conclusion, he'd wonder how it ended. But Shishio was a master of suspense and storytelling, and his low, dry voice always gave his tales a haunting edge.
One night, after a particularly chilling story, Soujiro had stayed up all night with a candle by his side, too afraid to fall asleep. The story had been about the ghost of a mother mourning her child, and something about it made Soujiro fearful, as if he expected the ghost from the tale to appear in his room. For weeks afterwards, the words had rolled around in Soujiro's mind, refusing to let him rest. Even now, all these years later, the remembered fear still sparked a sense of unease in him.
He would not tell that story. Not now, not ever.
Kenji exhaled shortly, stirring his long orange bangs. "You're no fun," he declared unhappily.
Soujiro bobbed one shoulder. "I won't tell a ghost story," he said, "but I will tell you a story about the Akabeko."
That earned him a doubtful look. "It's a strange one," Soujiro continued. "Do you know the small storeroom, on the other side of the kitchen?"
"The one in the back, by the garden?" Kenji asked skeptically.
"That's right. There's only one entrance to the storeroom, even though it would be much easier to attach a doorway right here, into the side of the kitchen." He pointed to the wall by Nizuno. Kenji and both the chefs turned to look. "Do you know why?"
"Why?" Urato and Kenji asked together.
"Because when Tae-san's uncle bought the restaurant, the previous owner made him promise never to create an entrance directly into the main building."
"Why would he ask that?" Kenji asked. His periwinkle eyes were wide with fascination.
"Because it isn't safe," Soujiro said. "Have you ever seen anyone spend very long in the storeroom?"
"No..."
"That's because there's something inside, waiting."
"What's waiting?"
"No one can say for sure." He smiled. "No one has seen it in the light. But it's always wanted to come out, and having two doors to the storeroom would only make it easier to exact it's revenge."
Kenji gasped. "That's why Tae-san always keeps the door locked!"
"It also explains why my skin feels all crawly after I go in there to look for something," Urato muttered. Nizuno rolled his eyes.
"So be careful when you go near the storeroom," Soujiro said, straightening. "You wouldn't want something to happen, would you?"
Kenji bit the bottom of his lip. He thought for several seconds before his eyes slowly met Soujiro's. "No," he agreed finally. "I guess not."
Good. Let the boy think on that for a while. Soujiro turned to look at the chefs. Nizuno was carving up the meat, but Urato only stared, wide-eyed. Soujiro gave him an expectant look. "The plate...?"
"Oh, right." Hastily Urato finished the mushrooms, then moved on to the scallions and onions. As he piled the ingredients onto the serving plate, he asked in an undertone, "so... you made that up, right?"
Soujiro could see Kenji's gaze snap to him from the corner of his eye. "What do you mean?" he asked airily.
"That story. It isn't true ...is it?"
Soujiro made a show of shrugging pensively. "Who can say?" he said. "I haven't heard Tae-san speak a word otherwise, though. Have you?"
The look on his face nearly made Soujiro want to laugh. So this is how rumors of ghosts are born, he thought. The best part was, it had been so simple. His story wasn't even close to the worst he'd heard from Shishio, but it was so easy. I suppose it doesn't matter, he thought, glancing at Kenji's face, if the audience wants to believe.
Perhaps that's what he'd been, too, all those years ago - a boy who wanted to believe.
Yahiko returned as the last few customers were leaving the restaurant. "You can't get out of it this time," he said to Kenji. "I have to take you home."
"I wanna come visit again!" The boy looked back over his shoulder at Soujiro. "You can tell me more not-ghost stories, next time!"
Yahiko looked up, a frown already appearing on his face. Tae, who just happened to be walking past, paused to smile at Kenji. "Leaving already? Well, please come back soon," she said, smiling.
"I will!"
Yahiko scratched the back of his head. "Yeah... expect him later rather than sooner, I think." For some reason, the thought made him wince. Soujiro blinked as Yahiko cleared his throat and turned abruptly to Tae. "So, hey, I meant to say this to you earlier - I heard you and Sou have a fancy date comin' up?"
"Oh..." Tae tried to keep up her smile, but Soujiro watched as it wilted slightly. "Oh, yes, that's tomorrow."
"At the Europe House?" he pressed, smirking.
"Yes, that's right."
"Ah, I thought so." Yahiko braced his hands against his hips. "Well, good luck on your date, you guys. I've never been there before, but I've heard it's supposed to be pretty nice."
Tae smoothed down the front of her apron. "Yes, I've... I've heard that as well."
Yahiko's dark eyes darted to Soujiro's. "You sure you have enough money to pay for dinner? Like I said, that place is fancy - "
Soujiro sent him a tilted smile. "I'm sure I can take care of myself, Yahiko, but thank you for your concern."
Tae cleared her throat. "So, Yahiko, I have a question for you, as well."
He looked back at her. "Yeah? What's up?"
"Did you remember to invite Kenshin and Kaoru to our Bōnenkai celebration? It's in a couple days, after all."
Yahiko nodded. "I mentioned it to 'em. I can bring it up again, but I don't think they'll come. You know how they are."
"I do," Tae agreed, but Soujiro heard the small sigh that followed her reply. "Well, tell them that the invitation still stands, if they wish to come."
"Will do." He grabbed the collar of Kenji's jacket and wheeled him around to face the exit. "C'mon, Kenji, let's get this over with."
"Over with?" the boy echoed.
"Er - take you home. You know what I meant."
Soujiro watched as Yahiko and Kenji walked through the restaurant, and around into the screened entry. He heard the door slide open, and Kenji's delighted squeal, "it's snowing!" accompanied by a low mutter from Yahiko.
"He liked you," Tae murmured as the door slid shut again.
Soujiro looked over at her. "Do you think so?" he asked, though he knew it was true. The fabricated tale about the haunted storeroom had done the trick - Kenji's ki had warmed with admiration, and Soujiro knew that the boy would return. The lure of the story was too strong not to.
Tae was nodding. "Yes, I do." She smiled slightly. "You have a gift with children, Soujiro-san."
He only smiled in return. "If you say so, Tae-san."
"I wish you could meet Kenji's parents. Kenshin and Kaoru are so kind. I hoped you might be able to see them at Bōnenkai, but I guess it'll have to wait."
"That's alright," Soujiro said truthfully. He wasn't ready to meet the Battousai in person just yet.
But soon. If his plans fell into place, then he would be.
Soon.
It had been hours since Tae had extinguished her lamp. The stillness of the night hung heavily in her ears and each rustle of her blankets, each sigh was like a thunderclap. She squeezed her eyes together, wishing she could relax. There was only silence from the rooms on either side of her, and she knew that everyone was probably sleeping. Everyone except her, anyway.
Her mind had been spinning, playing Yahiko's words over and over again in her brain: I heard you and Sou have a fancy date comin' up. She remembered the suggestive smirk on his face, the way he arched his eyebrows at her, like he knew something that she didn't.
And Soujiro just had that little smile on his face, as if nothing was the matter. As if he hadn't heard any insinuations in the question at all.
Tae rolled over onto her side. Yahiko's words were just that - words. They meant nothing. Absolutely nothing. She and Soujiro... they weren't anything yet. He wasn't courting her, and he certainly hadn't declared any intention to...
...unless that was what this dinner was?
But when he'd asked her to Europe House, she'd looked at him, hard, and tried to decide what the meaning was behind the invitation. His face had always been indecipherable, and it was even more so in that moment. She couldn't tell what he'd been thinking.
What do you want, Soujiro? Tae wondered for the hundredth time. She pulled her arms out from beneath her warm blankets and rubbed her eyes wearily. Her cheeks were cold in the night air. What do you want with me?
It was a question that she had no answer to, and her mind wouldn't let her sleep.
Tae groaned and scrubbed at her face, hoping to bring some heat to her skin. She'd never fall asleep at this rate; she knew herself well enough to recognize that if she was cold, her body wouldn't be able to relax until it warmed up again. That meant there was really only one thing she could do.
She opened her eyes and blinked blearily up at her ceiling. She took a deep breath, enjoying for a few more seconds the comfort of her thick blankets that she'd wrapped around herself like a cocoon, then pushed herself upright. She wriggled out of bed and went to her trunk. The room was dim enough that she could see a little, and she dug out a few pieces of clean clothing and piled them in her arms. Moving as quietly as she could, she left her room and shuffled through the hallway and down the stairs. She had to make a detour to the kitchen to get her coat - there was no way she was walking outside in the middle of the night without it - and then trudged to the outer door beneath the stairs.
A gust of sharp, frozen air blew in when Tae slid the door open and she shuddered. She made herself step outside, but it took longer than she hoped; the cold only seemed to make her sleepy movements even more lethargically slow as she reluctantly shut the door behind her.
A few faint flakes tumbled around her in the air as she made her way down the short path to the bathhouse, her shoes crunching in the snow. Tae squeezed her eyes together then rubbed at them with the heel of her hand, wishing her eyesight would stop being so blurry.
As she walked up the steps to the raised bathhouse, she pulled up a map of the interior in her mind. It would be too dark to see, but she had placed a stack of logs to the left of the door within easy reach, so all she'd have to do was take one or two around to the back and put them in the grate...
Tae paused inside the bathhouse and gently closed the door behind her. It really must be cold tonight, she thought. It feels almost warm in here. She turned and picked up a small log off to the side of the pile, then the larger one right next to it - then she froze.
I can see them, she realized, staring at the logs in stupefied amazement. I can see them, so that must mean... She looked around. Her eyes, now adjusted to the dim light of the windowless bathhouse, instantly found the pale glow of a distant lantern, just on the other side of the wall.
There's someone here.
Tae swallowed, her hand closing around her collar, just above her breastbone. She squeezed her folds of clean clothes against her chest and took a slow, cautious step forward. There were only a few people who it could be: Hana, Tsubame, or Soujiro. Hana did sometimes suffer from insomnia, but mostly in the hot summer months. Tsubame was actually a really heavy sleeper, so it couldn't have been her - so was it Soujiro? She had no idea what his sleep patterns were like...
And stop right there, she told herself sternly. Better not to think about that. Not now.
Perhaps Hana couldn't sleep. Or she had awakened from the cold and only wanted to chase that chill away.
Or what if it isn't any of them at all, a voice murmured in the back of Tae's head. What if someone else is in there - someone who broke in?
The steam felt heavenly on Tae's skin, but she pushed the sensation aside. She braced her hand on the low wall that separated the small entry from the bath itself, watching the smoky patterns that the lantern's candle sent to the far wall. It could be a trespasser, her traitorous mind whispered. A person waiting to catch you off-guard. A murderer.
Tae bit her lip, silently cursing her overactive imagination. She pressed her knees against the floorboards, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger, and leaned forward to peer around the edge of the wall.
The lantern sat to the side of the bath, out of the water's reach. Its light flickered across the back of a slim man, standing waist deep in the water. His arms lifted a small bucket, and with one smooth motion, emptied it over his shoulders. He shook his head, scattering water droplets, and raised a hand to comb back his inky black hair. The contours of his rope-like muscles stood out in stark relief, the shadows dark against his golden skin. Tae's eyes widened, her heart pounding a terrible rhythm in her ears. She couldn't keep watching - it was indecent, she was spying, it was wrong - but she couldn't bear to tear herself away. Her eyes traced the soft line of his spine as it swooped down into the water -
His name rushed out in a faint sigh, one she couldn't hold back any longer.
Soujiro. It was Soujiro.
