By seven in the evening, the sky had surrendered to a deep, absolute black.
The streetlights flickered on one by one, casting pools of orange light across the streets of Sendai. Kenjaku walked with a lighter step than she'd had that morning, a rare look of relaxation on her face. Her duties as a housewife were finished for the day. The vessel had been conceived, the family obligations were t, and the lies had been told. For tonight, at least, she was free.
Her destination was Kashimo's new apartnt.
She wasn't necessarily worried about whether the idiot could find his way ho. The body he'd inhabited carried the mories of its previous owner, so navigation shouldn't have been an issue. She just needed to check on him. And, perhaps, ensure he didn't starve to death.
She told herself it was a matter of logistics. She didn't know if the sorcerer's body knew how to cook, and if Kashimo's four-hundred-year-old palate was left to its own devices in a modern kitchen, he might end up eating the furniture. It would be an embarrassing way for a legend to go. She'd spent years looking after him in the Edo period. It seed she was destined to keep doing it in the modern one.
She turned into the narrow alleyway of the apartnt building and climbed the iron stairs. She felt almost cheerful. Then she rounded the corner to the second floor and saw the door.
A pile of shopping bags lay scattered across the concrete. Beside them, a tall man sat slumped against the door, his head tilted to one side. Teal hair fell over his forehead, and his eyes were shut tight. His breathing was heavy and rhythmic.
Haji Kashimo. The arrogant, untouchable god of the Edo period.
The man who had once looked down on the entire world was currently curled up outside his own door like an abandoned dog, sleeping with his mouth slightly open.
Kenjaku stopped.
She stood at the top of the stairs, grocery bags from the convenience store in hand. Her expression shifted from casual to confused, then to flat-out disbelief, before settling into a state of stunned silence. She stared at the massive figure crumpled on the floor. Her mouth twitched.
"Are you... actually an idiot?"
Her voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the silence of the hallway. Kashimo didn't wake up. He just shifted his head slightly, let out a muffled grunt, and continued to sleep.
Kenjaku took a long, deep breath. She walked over and gave his shin a sharp, impatient kick with the toe of her shoe.
"Hey. Wake up."
Kashimo didn't move. She kicked him again, harder this ti.
"Kashimo."
Still nothing. This was the man whose instincts were so sharp he could sense a threat from a hundred yards away while sleeping. Now, he was dead to the world. The day had clearly taken more out of him than he'd admit.
Kenjaku looked down at him. A thin layer of dust clung to his handso face, and his eyelashes cast soft shadows against his skin in the dim light. She stood there for three seconds in silence.
She set her grocery bags down, knelt, and pulled the key from her pocket. She leaned over his shoulder to reach the lock. The tallic scrape of the key finally did the trick.
Kashimo's eyelashes fluttered. He opened his eyes, his blue pupils hazy and unfocused. He looked up at Kenjaku's face, only inches from his own, and blinked.
"You're here," he rasped, his voice thick with sleep.
Kenjaku turned the key, the lock clicking open with a heavy thud. She looked down at him, her voice terrifyingly calm.
"If I hadn't co, were you planning to sleep here all night?"
Kashimo blinked, appearing to give the question so genuine thought. "Maybe."
Kenjaku's eye twitched. "Where is your key?"
"You have it."
"And you didn't think to ask for it?"
"Forgot."
Kenjaku closed her eyes and took another steadying breath. When she opened them, her face was a map of silent frustration. She pushed the door open. Since Kashimo had been leaning against it, his support vanished. He tumbled backward, his head hitting the hardwood floor with a dull thud.
"Ow."
"Serves you right."
Kenjaku stepped over his long legs, entered the apartnt, and flipped the light switch. Harsh white light flooded the room. Kashimo stayed on the floor, squinting against the glare.
"Get up," Kenjaku said, her voice tight with weary resignation. "I'm making dinner."
Kashimo sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his head. "What are we having?"
"Curry."
"Fine by ."
Kenjaku walked into the small kitchen, dropped the convenience store bags on the counter, and began searching for a pot. She moved with a practiced efficiency that didn't belong to a thousand-year-old sorcerer. She looked like a regular housewife.
Kashimo dragged himself to his feet and hauled the shopping bags inside, tossing them into a corner. He leaned against the kitchen doorfra, watching her work.
"What about the ring?" he asked.
Kenjaku didn't look back. "Tomorrow."
"Is your husband going to give it up?"
"Don't worry about it."
Kashimo gave a brief nod and went quiet. The sound of a knife hitting a cutting board filled the room, followed by the rustle of a curry roux package and the bubbling of water. The small apartnt began to fill with the warm, dostic scent of cooking.
***
The sll of curry eventually filled every corner of the unit.
When Kenjaku set two plates on the low table, Kashimo was already sitting there. He watched the plates like a starving wolf. The steam rose from the golden sauce, which was draped over a bed of white rice and dotted with soft chunks of potato and carrot. It wasn't a gourt al, but to a man who hadn't eaten all day, it was the best thing in the world.
Kashimo picked up a spoon and tore into the food.
He ate with a frantic, ssy intensity. He shoveled massive bites into his mouth, his cheeks bulging. He didn't even finish chewing before reaching for the next spoonful. Sauce stained the corners of his mouth, and stray grains of rice fell back onto the plate. He was oblivious to everything but the food.
Kenjaku sat across from him, her head resting in her hands as she watched him with a look of profound exhaustion.
He had been the sa four hundred years ago. Every ti he ca back from a fight, he ate as if soone were about to snatch the plate away. New body, new era, sa animal.
"Slow down," she sighed. "No one is going to take it."
Kashimo didn't even look up. He shoved another bite in, his jaw working through the rice. Kenjaku watched him for another mont before giving up. Her gaze drifted to the pile of shopping bags in the corner and then back to him.
"You really are an idiot," she said, her voice lazy. "Why didn't you buy a phone? I gave you enough money."
She knew she'd handed him several large bills that morning. She'd called him a freeloader, but she wasn't going to let him wander the streets with nothing. It was more than enough for a basic handset.
Kashimo stopped mid-chew.
He looked up at her, his cheeks puffed out like a squirrel. His blue eyes t hers. He tried to speak, but the rice made it impossible.
"Mmph... mm."
He made a series of muffled sounds and gestured vaguely with his hand.
Kenjaku stared at him for three seconds. "Swallow it first."
Kashimo swallowed with a heavy, audible gulp. He licked the sauce from his lip and put the spoon down, his expression suddenly very serious.
"I forgot."
He said it with such confidence that Kenjaku didn't know how to respond. She just sat there, her eye twitching.
The silence lingered for a beat.
"You forgot?" she repeated.
"Yeah," Kashimo nodded. "You were rushing when I left. It slipped my mind."
"I rushed you, so you forgot how to function? Is your brain just for show?"
"It's been dormant for four centuries. It's a bit rusty."
Kenjaku closed her eyes. Her internal map of her own blood pressure was currently reaching a new peak. She looked at the man who was already back to shoveling curry into his mouth. She wanted to yell, but there were too many insults to choose from.
She eventually just slumped back in her chair.
"You are a genuine moron," she whispered.
Kashimo ignored her and kept eating. The sound of the spoon hitting the ceramic plate was steady and rhythmic. In the small apartnt, with the lights on and the sll of food in the air, the sound was strangely grounding.
Kenjaku watched him for a while, then sighed and pushed her own untouched plate toward him.
"Eat. If you die of hunger, I'm the one who has to bury you."
Kashimo looked up, sauce on his chin, and pulled the second plate toward him without a second thought.
"Thanks."
"Shut up and eat."
***
***
A/n: I'll drop a bonus chapter right at 400 stones. Our new goal is 600 power stones, let's go! We've got the montum and we're doing great. With enough support, we can reach it.
For early access to 15 chapters ahead: p@tre~~/Demonic_Fiction (Link is in the synopsis and my profile).
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