Hello everyone! How are you all?
Readers: *Narrowing eyes* Who are you, Miss?
*Sweatdrops* How many days? Let me count... (My goodness, freaking two years!) After freaking two years, I returned to this site. Actually, I was planning to return to fanfiction and write/read some stuffs but my job, higher studies and other responsibilities were holding me back. Huh...adulthood is a "Dot-dot".
Whatever, finally I decided to post a fic which I had been planning to write and publish since the last year. This is a thriller, a murder mystery which I hope you all will love to read. This is loosely based on one of the works of Agatha Christie, the queen of mysteries. My writing skills are long gone, due to the pressures and busy daily schedules, but I tried my best to revive it. (Forget my writing skills, I also almost forgot how the characters of Beyblade are T_T). Never mind, here it is.
Title: It's a trap!
Genre: Drama, suspense, mystery, angst, hurt/comfort, crime, a little romance and some humor.
Pairings: KaneXSalima, slight RayXSalima, only the mention of KaiXHilary.
Warning: Character death, smoking, swearing, gun.
Dedicated to: Moon and Blossoms. (To whom else? The first KaneSal shipper I knew from this site :P)
So...let it riiiip!
"According to the Tokyo Chronicles, this brutally petrifying crime occurred at 22 Namikaze street, Shinjuku, Tokyo, between 12 and 1 o' clock, at one of the darkest phases of the night. The name of the murder victim is Mrs. Kyushuriin Nakamura. As the police said, the suspected assassin, having a medium height, was wearing a black overcoat and a felt hat because of which his face remained unseen. A light-colored scarf was wrapped around his neck. The law enforcement squads are still in search of him..."
The piece of news was being echoed from the radio, kept on the waist-high, newly polished cabinet beside the fireplace. There was no fire in that despite having a statement table lamp concealed with a red-colored lamp-shade around the bulb; keeping another similar wooden cabinet at left, containing a cigarette-case, a black lighter and a landline telephone. Behind them, thick velvet in dark emerald curtains covering the arch-shaped windows were preventing the chilling zephyr from entering the living room. At the leftmost, a steel-rimmed rack was present with a swing door behind it. Facing the stand, backing the whitewashed wall at the other side, there was a staircase, creating the way to the first floor of the duplex house. A round wooden table, accompanied with six or seven pieces of sofa having expensive velvet cushions and mattresses were the center of attraction. Another corner was well-furnished with a gigantic, mahogany wooden piano.
"Mrs. Kazumi! Mrs. Kazumi!"
A loud, yet melodious feminine voice could be heard, calling someone. Soon, shoving the main door of the house, the owner of the tone entered the living room. With a medium height and slender figure, she was the mistress of this house, an attractive lady in her early twenties, owning knee-length scarlet tresses which were currently tied into a messy bun assisted by a wooden hairpin and a pair of deep ebony eyes. Taking a quick scrutiny all over the chamber once, she understood that no one was there to respond. Brows twitched a bit in annoyance.
'Where the hell has this woman gone?' Pondering, she put one of her hands in the pocket of her coat as it came out with a brown envelope. Stealthily, she opened a drawer of a closet and kept the packet inside. Closing it, she put off her gloves and coat, letting them hang from the rack. From the kitchen, bringing a mop, she hastily started dusting the sofas and the table. As she reached the other corner, noticing the ligneous signboard leaning against the railing of the staircase, a small smile rose in her lips. But, at the very next moment, it turned into vapors since she frowned again.
'Kane…' She pouted, 'I didn't expect this mistake from you. Duh…'
No sooner had she gone upstairs to clean other furniture than pushing the main door, a young man around her age stepped in, having azure hair and same shade of eyes and carrying a medium-sized box with him. Just like her, after scrutinizing the environment in a stealthy mode and realizing that no one was there to watch or see him, he kept the paper-wrapped packet in the drawer of another cabinet. Then, keeping the felt hat on the sofa and undoing the black overcoat with the scarf wrapped around his neck, he cleared his throat and called, "Salima? Salima!"
Following the footprints of a restless doe, the redhead climbed down through the stairs. Seeing his wife, he raised a big smirk all over his face. Expanding his brawly arms, he rushed towards her, "Oh my gorgeous queen…"
His attempt of showering immense affection on her wife badly failed as his face met a thrown handkerchief. Swiftly grabbing it and sneezing, he heard her grumbling, "And you said that you help me do all my chores? Liar!"
"When you get angry, you look more gorgeous, darling," The bluenette, not minding at all, sat on a sofa, "But why are your eyes and nose so red? Caught a cold?"
"I went outside to buy some stuff," Salima replied, "Have you bought the mousetraps?"
"I searched for them, but couldn't find anywhere," Kane sighed, "Don't worry. I don't think mice can come here in this chilling hour of night. By the way, is everything done?"
"Done and set," The redhead affirmed, "Four guests are coming here tonight. Mr. Barthez will stay in the front four-poster room. Blue room for Major Romero, East room for Miss Tachibana and Oak room for Mr. Kon."
"Nice," Kane acknowledged but let out his cynicism at the same time, "God knows how the guests will be."
"The first impression is always important, you know," Salima bit her lips, "No matter how the guests are, we have to give our best."
"Hey," The husband neared his wife and softly placed a hand on her shoulder, "Feeling nervous? Or repenting because of turning the house of your aunt into a guesthouse instead of selling?"
"Not at all," A bright smile rose all over the face of the redhead, "Rather, I am feeling very excited. I cannot wait to welcome the guests tonight."
"That's the spirit of a businesswoman…" Scarcely had the blunette patted her shoulder before his eyes fell upon the ligneous signboard. Scurrying towards it, he pointed at the post, "Hey, did you see the nameplate? How's it looking?"
"Very beautiful…" Suddenly, Salima's annoyance returned as she recalled the blunder made by her husband. She screwed her eyebrows, "Hey, where's the first "N" in 'Chika Sinden'? Did you just gobble it up while returning from the store with the signboard?"
Kane bit his tongue as his eyes found out the mistake, scratching his head. His wife scowled again, "What are you waiting for? Go and get this fixed!"
"Okay okay wifey…" Kane stretched his palms and tried to calm the redhead down, "I'm going asap!"
Grabbing the signboard, the blunette rushed towards the exit door in order to manage the circumstance as well as the mood of his wife. Pressing her lips, the latter smirked a bit at the trajectories of his departure. Although she was a very decent, calm and sweet-natured young lady, sometimes she loved to boss around her husband. The blunette also never minded her antiques and honeyed torture, always letting her pretend to be a queen and being the most trustworthy knight in shining armor by her side. Carefully picking up the black overcoat, the scarf and the felt hat from the sofa, Salima smiled again and went upstairs.
"Ding-dong! Ding-dong!"
Like a hopping rabbit, Salima climbed downstairs and opened the gate, only to meet a pair of beryl eyes glinting like the pupils of a fierce tiger amidst the dark twilight hovering around. The young bod, in his early-twenties, was clad in a long, black or dark-bluish overcoat and a felt hat, with a butter-colored scarf around his neck. He was holding a suitcase in his left hand. Salima could guess that his raven hair was usually longer and denser than that of any other man she knew. She assumed that this guy was one of their guests. That's why, she bent her head and put her hands together on her stomach but her attempt to welcome him went in vain.
"Disgusting!" He hurriedly entered the chamber, pretending as if he had never seen the redhead, "Disgusting weather outside! My taxi couldn't move for a single inch as it reached near the gate. The driver has no sporting spirit, I must say…"
He stopped, having the gaze of the hostess of the guesthouse for the first time since his arrival. She was a little shorter than he; having a slender, yet perfect hourglass figure. Her black diamond orbs, coated with kohl, under plucked cerise eyebrows had both confusion and amusement at the same time, accompanied with naturally dense eyelashes. The latter feeling was visibly dominant at the corner of her thin lips smeared with cherry-colored lipstick. Knee-length, thick, scarlet hair was unbound, blowing a bit with the arriving breeze of the winter night through the open entrance. A body-embracing, three-quarter bishop-sleeved, peter-pan collared lavender cotton top and a mid-length white panel skirt were making her warm ivory complexion flower.
Never had the neko-jin seen such a strikingly beautiful woman in his life. He couldn't move his stares away from her. Who was she? A princess? A queen? A nymph? An enchantress? Or a Goddess? Was this guesthouse her eternal abode? Would she bless him with her hospitality? He felt butterflies in his stomach, a skipping beat in his heart and lack of enough senses inside his brain. What was happening with him? Why couldn't he talk? Why couldn't he apologize for his impoliteness while entering the chamber to this lovely lady? Did she mind? No, she wasn't looking like that.
"Umm…" Somehow, he managed to open his mouth, "You must be Mrs. Yamashita, right? I'm Ray Kon."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kon," Salima, this time, returned the welcome with a bow, "Please, have a seat."
"I must admit, this is such a lovely and cozy guesthouse for me to stay at this chilling night," Ray sat on a sofa, keeping the suitcase on the floor, "If there were a few flowers and birds, it would feel like heaven."
"How will I get them inside the house, Mr. Kon?" The redhead chuckled.
"But can I expect a wooden signboard on the wall of the dining room?" The neko-jin asked, "Where the images of varieties of fruits will be engraved?"
"There's one," Salima invited the guest, "Come in."
With curious footsteps, the raven-haired guy followed the hostess. Really, the western wall of the dining room bore a rectangular, dark ligneous board where apples, bananas, oranges and grapes were engraved by the knacky and artful hands of the sculptors. Though it was a simple piece of art, the eyes of the neko-jin brimmed with zeal. He almost squealed, "Perfect! What a respectable piece of tradition!"
"Mr. Kon," Salima coughed, "You must be so tired now. Come, let me show you your room."
"Why so soon, Mrs. Yamashita?" Ray declined, "Let me explore a little more. Well, since how many years are you and Mr. Yamashita married? Your husband loves you a lot, doesn't he?"
"Well…one year." The redhead hesitantly replied, as her cheeks displayed the color of embarrassment.
"Hey…" Suddenly, the neko-jin realized that he had asked a too personal question that he shouldn't have asked as a guest, "Don't mind please. I'm sorry for asking this."
"No no, no need to be sorry," The hostess shook her head, picking up the packet of cigars from a small round-table, "Would you like some cigarettes?"
"Thanks, Mrs. Yamashita," The neko-jin politely rejected the offer, "But I don't smoke."
Though the redhead kept the box back on the table, she couldn't make her mind agree that she didn't hurt her guest. Ray continued blabbering nonchalantly, "Actually, understanding the psychology, the mind of a person is such a tough job. Do you know who can do this job very well? Painters. See, how they portray the inner being of a human so skillfully on the canvas! Be it a human, a god, an angel, an animal or a demon!"
"Are you a painter, Mr. Kon?" Salima curiously asked.
"No no," The neko-jin answered, "I'm a martial artist. I have a school of martial arts and warfare techniques in China."
"Cool…" The redhead was about to praise the neko-jin but before that, she heard a few familiar footsteps on the wooden floor of the guesthouse. Within no moment, her husband appeared in the dining room, carrying two bags of vegetables. Seeing him, a smirk throve all over the face of the hostess. Pointing at him, she spoke, "Mr. Kon, meet my husband, Kane Yamashita. Kane, he is Ray Kon, one of our guests."
"Nice to meet you, Sir." The neko-jin, smilingly, forwarded a palm towards the blunette. As the host happily returned the handshake, the raven-haired guy suddenly blurted, "Disgusting!"
Startled, Kane backed a bit. The smile from the face of his wife also vanished. However, the guest himself clarified, "Weather. I meant…the weather. Thank goodness…this guesthouse saved me, along with the heartwarming welcome from your wife."
"Thanks, Mr. Kon." Salima expressed her gratitude to the guest, which disturbed the mind of her protective husband a tad. Ray continued, "Your wife is not only talented and kind, but also very beautiful."
"Duh…" Turning beetroot, the redhead lowered her head. Her husband also accepted the same color on his face, but with a completely different emotion. The guest decided to pour petrol into the fire, "The husbands of beautiful women are often very protective and foolish. They leave no stone unturned to dominate their wives. You know, I sometimes feel pity for those belles."
In humiliation and stifled agitation, Kane clenched his teeth. Noticing it, the redhead tried to control the situation, "Mr. Kon, I think you should go to your room now. Kane, please guide him to his room."
"Sure." Sighing, the blunette lifted the suitcase of the neko-jin. To his surprise, he felt as if the suitcase had been filled with only air. Too light it was for a guest, especially a foreign guest in such an arctic season. Did the Chinese just come here empty-handed, without a single piece of clothes to wear? Would he be able to pay the bill? What was his motive actually? Yet, the azure-haired guy didn't say anything there, leaving the room with the Chinese. His wife became busy again cleaning the table and the chairs of the dining lounge with a handkerchief. She had to do a lot of chores. Soon, she had to start preparing for dinner…
"Ding-dong! Ding-dong!"
Keeping the pink handkerchief on one of the chairs, the redhead rushed towards the main door and opened it, revealing another black-haired man, with small black pupils and a very uniquely shaped jawline, wearing winter clothes along with a felt hat. Although he was much older than the first guest, he seemed fitter in comparison to his age. With slow footsteps, without asking for the permission of the hostess, he entered the living room. Glancing all over the chamber once, he asked, "Is it 'Chika Sinden' guesthouse?"
"Yes Sir, you have come to the right destination," Salima bowed, "Please, have a seat near the fireplace. You must be feeling so cold. By the way, your luggage?"
"Major Romero is bringing them here." Nodding, the old man took a seat. Salima called her husband, "Kane? Another guest has arrived. Please come downstairs to welcome and assist him."
The blunette didn't waste a single minute to respond to the call of his wife as he was already on his way to the living room after hearing the chiming doorbell. Reaching the chamber, he bent his head down to welcome him. Scrutinizing the couple thoroughly once, the old man asked, "Are you Mr. and Mrs. Yamashita?"
"Yes." The hostess nodded, "And you?"
"I'm Jean Paul Barthez," He gave his identity, "Mrs. Yamashita, don't you think that you are too young to run a guesthouse?"
"Young? Excuse me?" Salima narrowed her eyes. Barthez smirked, examining the hostess with his eyes from her top to bottom once, not replying. Frowning, her husband was about to tell him something but signalling with her eyes, Salima forbade him to do so. Clearing her throat, she spoke, "Kane, Major Romero must be waiting outside. Please receive him and help him bring the luggage."
"Sure, Salima." Giving a nasty look at the guest, the blunette sauntered out.
"The house is also looking very old," Barthez stood up, "God knows how long it didn't undergo any maintenance…"
"Don't worry, Mr. Barthez," The hostess felt a little annoyed at the baseless criticism of the guest, "The house is in perfect condition."
"You should have painted the walls for one or two more coats, Mrs. Yamashita," The black-haired man checked the walls, roaming here and there, "Often these old walls grow termites and cannot be guessed at early stages. Once you realize, it becomes too late, you know."
Salima was about to reply something savage but before that, she heard her husband, "This way, Major."
Following the blunette who was carrying a duffel bag, a blonde, in his mid-thirties entered the room, his hand occupied with a suitcase. He was tall, had a well-built, mesomorphic figure. At the sight of his neck-length flaxen hair, the eyebrows of the redhead became scrunched. Since when on the earth were the military personnel permitted to keep this long hair?
"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Yamashita," The Spaniard stretched a hand towards the blunette, "If the snowfall continues this way, within two or three days, we will be buried six feet under the ice. After 1940, never did such a blizzard occur in Japan."
"Don't worry, Major," Kane assured him, returning the handshake, "The weather forecast isn't saying so. Let me show you your room."
"Sure…" Romero nodded, eyeing the redhead secretly while accompanying the host and whispering into his ears, "By the way, having such a gorgeous and delicate wife sometimes can lead a man to insecurities and jealousy issues. Can't it, Mr. Yamashita?"
At this judgmental comment from the blonde, Kane couldn't help being annoyed. First, that Ray Kon, and now, this half-old Major. Would these men leave him and his wife alone for a single moment? Salima, why did you have to be this much beautiful, delicate and kindhearted at the same time?
"Ahem…" The blunette cleared his throat, trying not to sound rude, "That's none of your concerns, Major. Please, come inside."
As both the men disappeared inside, Salima sat on a sofa, only to get hit by another question from the old man, "Don't you have any servant or maid here for assistance?"
"We have one," She replied, "Actually, a part-time one, yet, very skilled. Besides, it is only the opening day of the guesthouse. With the passage of time, we will prosper more, hopefully."
"I see…" The reply of the hostess, however, couldn't please him, "Such a rookie you all are!"
"Rookie?" Suddenly, they heard a familiar masculine voice from the stairs as its owner climbed down, "But I have no problem with the guesthouse. It's amazing!"
"Oh…Mr. Kon," Salima snickered, gaining a bit of support from the Chinese, "Come here. Let me introduce you to Mr. Barthez. Mr. Barthez, he's Mr. Ray Kon, from China."
"Hm," Barthez nodded, "But whatever you say, Mr. Kon, if I knew that it was only the first day of this guesthouse, I would never come here. I just wanted to spend a few days of vacation amidst natural beauty and calmness, in luxury and utmost comfort but it looks like all my wishes went in vain."
"If you're really disappointed with us, Mr. Barthez," The blunette reappeared in the living room, "You can leave. No one is going to force you to stay here."
At this savage reply of the host, the Chinese couldn't resist his laughter back. The redhead also covered her mouth with her palm, trying not to show that she was amused. Gritting his fangs, the old man stood up from his seat, "That's not the way you talk and behave as the host of a guesthouse, Mr. Yamashita. Mrs. Yamashita, I'm going to my room."
"Sure, Sir," Salima swiftly shook her head up and down, "Let me help you."
Allowing the old guest to go ahead, the hostess neared her husband and whispered into his ears, "What a dose you gave him, Kane! Proud of you, darling."
Kane chuckled, scratching his head again both in pride and shyness. But within no moment, the Chinese dragged him out of his daydreams, "Such a horrible person. I should agree that you have taught him a perfect lesson, Mr. Yamashita. It would be better and greater if he could be thrown out from this guesthouse."
"No objection," The blunette nodded, "But it's not possible now."
"Ding-dong! Ding-dong!"
The ringing doorbell interrupted the conversation between two men in the living room. Ray frowned as the host stood up, thinking who could come at that time. Reaching the door, he opened it. The fourth guest emerged; a woman in her early twenties. Having shoulder-length, dense chocolate brown hair and a pair of dazzling ruby eyes set perfectly on her milk-toned skin, she was wearing a long, black overcoat beneath which there was a butter yellow-colored, ruffle-collared shirt and a pair of black bellbottoms. An orange, woolen tuque cap was protecting her head from the snowfall outside. Some snowflakes were clinging to her clothes. Wasn't she inside her car? Kane pondered.
"My car stopped working just half a mile away," The brunette huffed, clarifying the silent query of the host herself, "Amidst this blizzard and sudden lightning, I had to come walking all the way."
"Relax, my lady," The blunette let the woman come inside, "Come and have a seat near the fireplace. You will feel better."
"Thanks." Breathing relievedly, the chocolate-haired woman strode in. Undoing her gloves and coat, she placed her hand near the fire to feel some warmth. Kane pointed his hand at the raven-haired guy, "Let me introduce you both to each other. He is Ray Kon, and Mr. Kon, she is…"
"Tachibana," She turned her head to the neko-jin who bowed in return, "Hilary Tachibana."
"Please, you both, make yourselves comfortable here," Kane warmly spoke, "I'm coming within a while with my wife."
The blunette went inside. Grabbing a newspaper from the center table, the brunette lifted one of her legs on another and started giving it a read. Her eyes ran through the black scribbled lines as she stated, "The weather will remain adverse for a few more days. Snowfall will increase, the forecast is saying. Drivers and pedestrians have been warned."
"No more news except weather?" Ray's question expressed his annoyance.
"Nothing special, except those usual political problems," Hilary's eyes travelled through the lines and halted at one place as they became widened both in amusement and surprise, "Oh, a juicy murder case is also here, I see."
"What? Murder?"
The golden pupils of the neko-jin gleamed in curiosity. Leaping, he almost snatched the paper from the hands of the brunette, "I just love murder stories. How exciting they are!"
"Aren't they?" The brunette also stood up, not minding the act of the Chinese, "Police are still searching for the murderer. They said that a young man committed it. I think he's a sex maniac."
"Has it been revealed through the autopsy?" The neko-jin asked.
"Not yet," Hilary shook her head, "But I am confident."
"Well…" They both turned to the blunette who returned to the living room after meeting his wife, "What is the name of the murdered woman?"
"Kyushuriin," The Chinese monotonously replied, "Kyushuriin Nakamura."
"Young? Or aged?"
"They didn't say anything here about that, Mr. Yamashita." Ray kept checking the newspaper.
"Sex maniac, Mr. Yamashita, sex maniac," The brunette tittered, "They don't know the differences between a young woman and an old woman, a human being and an animal…"
Hilary would have exaggerated more, but thanks to the red-haired hostess, she stopped. Seeing her, Kane introduced her to the brunette, "My wife, Salima Yamashita. Salima, she's Miss Hilary Tachibana."
"Nice to meet you Mrs. Yamashita," The brunette extended an arm, "How are you?"
"I'm fine, Miss Tachibana," Salima accepted the handshake, "And you?"
"I'm doing good too." The brunette smilingly replied, "I have to appreciate that you have done a great job despite your first day as the owner of this guesthouse. If the weather were a little better, we could enjoy it more."
"Thank you for your kindness, Miss Tachibana," The redhead asked, "Well, I have already prepared your room. Would you like to have a shower now? We have hot water arrangements here."
"That's excellent!" Hilary squealed, "I really needed a bath with hot water. Let's go."
Leaving the brunette to her room, hastily, the redhead returned to the living room. Ray was still absorbed in the newspaper while Kane was reading another paper from the center-table. Seeing his wife, he kept the paper in its place and approached her.
"Kane, I have to start cooking as soon as possible," With swift hands, she tied her unbound hair into a messy bun, "All the guests must be so hungry now. Especially Mr. Barthez, if he doesn't get his dinner on time…"
"Don't panic, honey," The blunette tried to appease her, "Cooking is your sole department. I have full faith on you. You are such an excellent cook!"
"Hey!" The neko-jin's ears twitched when one of his favorite words was mentioned, "Cooking? Please Mrs. Yamashita, let me help you. It's one of my passions. You have no idea how much I am fond of it!"
Kane narrowed his eyes at the raven-haired guy for his excessive alacrity and attempts to seek the attention of his wife. However, the latter didn't feel embarrassed, "Why not, Mr. Kon? It will be a great pleasure for me if you help me cook."
"Thank you so much, Mrs. Yamashita." Leaping in excitement, the neko-jin accompanied her to the kitchen while blabbering with her, "You know that chewing a chewing-gum doesn't let tears flow while chopping onions. And…"
Looking at their trajectories, Kane sighed. Before their marriage to each other, they had been in love for one year, knowing each other for six more months. Thus, for nearly thirty months, they were together. He was very protective of his wife. He had full faith on the redhead, he didn't want to doubt her. Then again, he was doubting the intentions of the raven-haired guy. Why was that man trying to get attached to his wife again and again? What did he want? Salima was innocent, believing anyone very easily. Did the Chinese realize that? Did he want to take advantage of his wife's weakness? These questions started tickling the brain of the blunette.
"Hey," He turned back to his wife as she returned from the kitchen, "Ray is very sweet, you know. He didn't let me touch a single thing. Just wearing the apron and pulling out the knives with the chopping board, he started slicing the veggies as if he'd been one of our own family members. If all the guests can cook their meals themselves and feel at home here, our tasks will be easier."
"Sal, tell me one thing," This time, Kane couldn't suppress his worries, "Why are you being so lenient to this Kon guy? He's a stranger and we don't know him."
"Why, Kane?" The redhead frowned, "Does he seem suspicious to you?"
"You don't know…" Her husband gnashed his jaw, "When I was carrying his suitcase…"
"What's with his suitcase?" Salima cocked an eyebrow, "Was it filled with bricks?"
"It was lighter than the air," Kane retorted, "Looks like he has no cloth or stuff in that kit. I think he's one of those who cause theft in hotels and guesthouses."
"Don't be nuts, Kane," His wife protested, "We shouldn't judge our guests in this way. It's contradictory to our etiquette and manners as the hosts of this guesthouse."
"But…"
"Ding-dong! Ding-dong!"
"Who's come now?" Salima scrunched her brows, "We were supposed to have four guests for tonight, weren't we?"
"Look," Kane shrugged, "Maybe that murderer from Namikaze street…"
"Duh! Don't say ominous things." Giving her husband a glare, the redhead rushed towards the door. As she unlocked it with a loud click at the knob, another blunette, in his early twenties, dashed in as if he'd had to catch a running train. His hair, fastened in a loose ponytail, was a few shades deeper than that of her husband. Eyes were auburn, bearing the signs of being stranded and tired. A gray duffle-bag was hanging from his left shoulder, his maroon jacket was embraced by snowflakes all over. With heavy footsteps and breaths, he plodded inside, thumping his bag against one of the sofas.
"I'm extremely sorry…" He puffed, "But which place is it?"
"It's a guesthouse, Mister," Kane replied, "Chika Sinden."
"Oh my…" He exclaimed as glow returned to his brown orbs immediately, "How fortunate I am! Such a cozy guesthouse with a charming hostess. You know, my dear Mercedes Benz, whom I love more than my girlfriend, just got jammed in the blizzard. Through a boy and nerve-wrecking adventure, I had to reach this place."
"You're safe now, Mister," Salima smiled, "Please, sit near the fireplace. It will make you feel warmer."
"Thank you, Miss…?"
"Salima. Salima Yamashita." The hostess gave her identity to the newest, yet, unexpected guest, "This is my husband, Kane Yamashita. And you?"
"Granger," The navy-haired guy replied, "Tyson Granger. I…"
He halted as all of sudden, the fragrance of melted butter and spices tickled his nostrils, riding the raft of airstream from the kitchen. Through the passageways of his olfactory nerves, it ended up in his stomach, fueling the fire of hunger which he had been trying to bury for the last five or six hours. Though he'd had light snacks in his backpack, they were never enough to extinguish those flames dancing inside his digestive organs. He sniffed in the air, torturing the emptiness of his belly more. If he ate the munchies in his bag to fill that space up, it would be disrespectful to the delicacies being prepared in the kitchen.
"I think you should get fresh at first," Kane understood, "The dinner is on the way to the table."
"Just smelling the fragrance," Tyson didn't hesitate to praise, "I can say how delicious it will be. Your hands have magic, Mrs. Yamashita."
"Thanks, Mr. Granger," Salima, however, spoke the truth, "But it's not I who deserve this appreciation. One of our guests, Mr. Ray Kon, has decided to prepare dinner for tonight."
Kane facepalmed, not liking this straight and honest reply from his wife. Tyson's face, nevertheless, bloomed like a lotus, "No problem, Mrs. Yamashita. I just need some food at this moment to munch and gorge on an emergency basis, no matter how and by whom it is made."
"You will get it within no time," The redhead assured as well as warned him at the same time, "But pardon us, Mr. Granger. Since you have come here without any booking, the room which you will get is quite smaller than the other rooms. I hope you will be able to adjust."
"No problem, Mrs. Yamashita…" A mischievous smirk appeared at the corners of the lips of the navy-haired guy, which made both the host and the hostess sweatdrop and shiver a tad simultaneously, "You didn't expect me to be your guest tonight, hehe. Beyond our expectations and guesses, a lot of things happen in this world, don't they? Just consider me one of them.
I am a man of mystery, after all!"
Hehehe...Kyushiriin, is she a canon character? Or just an OC? Who's her murderer by the way? What's the connection of the guesthouse or our guests with her murder? Does Ray really have feelings for Salima? Or is he just flirting around? How will Salima respond? Will her naive actions and behavior hamper Kane's trust? The next chapter will unfold more (Before that, please pray for me so that I can update it soon. I really want to complete this fic T_T).
Do read, review, favorite and follow. Pardon the grammatical and the spelling errors as well as my wobbly, clumsy writing skill (I have to write and practice more to revive the old me T_T). Take care and stay safe.
Dear Nikki, my little sister, I hope you'll like this. :D
-Misty ^_^
