Sakura Haruka

Nirei was a young man who had barely reached twenty years old. His life was a predictable routine of waking up, tending his herbs, going to work at a medicine shop, doing chores, cooking dinner, sleeping, and then repeating it all the next day.

He didn’t sell or make the medicine. He worked as a bookkeeper, keeping tabs and balancing accounts. He liked taking notes and paying attention to details, and he was damn good at it. Sure, working on ledgers wasn’t as glamorous as being a farmer or a samurai, but it paid well enough for him to live alone on the outskirts of Nihonbashi.

He lived in communal housing where everyone shared walls. His own space was a narrow room with a small kitchen area right next to the front door. In the shared yard, there was a water well, a clothesline, and even a patch of yard where people grew plants. Every morning before work, Nirei tended his herbs carefully. Most of them weren’t bought but were gifted by the physician at the shop.

His work usually ended after the sun sank. Nirei always returned home with a tired soul and body, but there was one thing he always did to comfort himself. It was the simple ritual of cooking dinner.

As usual, after putting his notes on the shelf, he went straight to set a pot over the fire. He filled it with chicken bones and water. While waiting for the broth to simmer, he chopped carrots and tofu. When it started to boil, he opened the window to let the smoke drift out. He added a bit of oyster sauce and shoyu, the fragrant steam curled into the night air.

He was just stirring the pot when a faint rustling reached him from the backyard. Nirei froze, the ladle trembling in his hand. At first, he thought it might be a stray cat nosing through the herbs. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest when a figure stepped from the shadows.

It was a young man, probably around Nirei’s age. He wore a neat samurai uniform, though it was slightly rumpled, perhaps from crouching among the herbs and dirt. His hand clutched tightly at the hilt of his sword, but his stare with those mismatched eyes was sharper than his blade, cutting straight through Nirei. He was striking, with wild two-toned hair that made him look almost otherworldly.

Nirei didn’t even get to greet him before the samurai slid the door aside and strode straight in. He sat heavily at the low table, making himself at home, leaving Nirei utterly confused. When Nirei failed to react, the samurai clicked his tongue and slammed the table.

Nirei nearly toppled the pot in shock. The samurai growled, “Hey! What are you doing? Give me the food!”

Nirei almost dropped the ladle. “F-food…?”

The samurai jabbed a finger at the boiling pot. Nirei couldn’t understand why a samurai had barged into his home demanding food. Still, he feared for his life. here was no way a commoner like him could defy someone of higher rank. With a thundering heart, he ladled soup into a bowl, added rice into another, and placed a few pickles on the side. His hands shook so much while pouring water that the cup nearly spilled. He set everything down before the intruder.

The young samurai grabbed the chopsticks and dug in without hesitation. His eyes widened after the first bite. The taste was subtle but doesn’t mean it was unsavory. The carrots were sweet and the tofus were soft, which was a perfect bowl to calm oneself down after a stressful day.

“What is this?!” he demanded through a full mouth.

“Uh… just miso soup and pickles?” Nirei swallowed nervously.

“This is so good!” The samurai leaned forward eagerly. His mismatched eyes sparkled as he devoured another mouthful.

Nirei stared at the samurai. He was tunned at how much joy the man found in his cooking. It tugged at his heart. This was the first time anyone had eaten his food and to see someone appreciate it so much made him feel strangely warm inside.

Nirei chuckled. “Is it really that good? It’s literally just what I eat every day.”

“I’ve never had anything like this,” the samurai said with a shrug, finally biting into the pickles.

Nirei froze at that. He knew samurai often had strict diets, but didn’t most of them start as commoners in the academy? If this man didn’t even know simple food, then maybe he’d been born in the academy or was an orphan…

“I want more!”

Nirei snapped out of his thoughts when the samurai shoved the empty bowl at him. Smiling faintly, he filled it again, just as his own stomach growled in protest. Only then did he realize he hadn’t eaten himself. After a moment of hesitation, he set down another bowl and sat across from the swordsman.

The samurai froze mid-bite, eyes narrowing. “What are you doing?”

Nirei fidgeted, clutching his chopsticks. “Er… I also want to eat?”

For a long moment, the samurai just stared at him. “I’ve never seen a chef eat with their customer.”

“What are you talking about? We’re both hungry. Why can’t we eat together?”

The samurai’s ears turned faintly red, and he looked away. Nirei hid his amusement behind nibbling a pickle. This guy was interesting, in a weird way. Still, it wasn’t exactly polite to invite yourself into a stranger’s house so he gotta make this guy someone more than just a stranger.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

“Uhm, Sakura. I’m new in town.”

“Oh, that’s why I haven’t seen you before.”

The samurai nodded, as if he wanted to say more, but instead shoved rice into his mouth. Nirei blinked in confusion, wondering if maybe he was just awkward like that.

So Nirei let him be. They ate in silence, broken only by the sound of chopsticks against bowls. When the samurai finally finished eating, he slammed his palm on the table again, making Nirei flinch for what felt like the hundredth time this night. As he stood, Nirei noticed the glint of a coin placed carefully on the wood.

“I, what? No, I don’t accept payment—”

“Thank you for the meal!” the samurai blurted, bowing slightly with a red face. Nirei picked up the coin, ready to return it, when the man added, “It was the first time I’ve ever shared a meal with someone.”

“Oh…” Nirei was stunned as Sakura rubbed the back of his head, cheeks flushed. How could someone turn that red?

“Then I’ll take my leave for now!” Sakura dashed out the door, vanishing into the night as quickly as he had appeared.

“Wait! Your money!” Nirei called, but he wasn’t skilled enough to chase after him who leaped through fences. Damn samurai and their skills, Nirei cursed under his breath.

“Come back again someday! I’ll make more miso soup!” His voice rang into the night, wishing Sakura could hear him.
Nirei stared at the coin, the memory of their shared meal still lingering. He laughed at himself. Never in his life had he imagined befriending a samurai. What a strange night, today.

But still, one question nagged at him. Why had he called him chef, anyway? He didn’t remember he opened a restaurant at once. Huh, maybe he saw a chef that looked like me somewhere. Nirei shook his head as he walked back to his room.

Togame Jo

When Nirei slid open the door to his herb garden, he stopped in surprise.

Someone was sleeping on the low koshikake bench beside the doorway. His plain, worn, and travel-stained hakama were dusty, as if he had been walking the roads for days. A wide sugegasa bamboo hat covered his face, tilting just enough to hide his features.

Cautiously, Nirei reached down and nudged the hat aside.

A pale face, framed by long hair tied loosely at the nape, came into view. The stranger was handsome despite the weariness carved into his features. He squinted as the sunlight spilled across his eyelids, then slowly opened his eyes.

“Ah, I’m sorry!” Nirei stammered, bowing in reflex.

The man blinked, then inclined his head weakly. “No… forgive me. I shouldn’t have troubled you.”

His voice was soft, each word dragged with fatigue. He pushed himself upright, wobbling slightly on his feet. “I’ll be on my way. Sorry to disturb.”

Before he could stagger off with his bamboo bag, Nirei called out. “Wait. You look exhausted, please, come inside. Do you want to eat something before you continue your journey?”

The traveler hesitated. “I don’t have money to pay.”

“It’s okay. It may not be restaurant-grade, but I can feed you simple food. How about that?”

The invitation was too appealing to refuse. Finally, the traveler sat down beside the low table. He stared timidly around the small room. Despite his broad shoulders and tall frame, he seemed to shrink into himself, making his body as small as possible.

Nirei wasted no time setting a pot to simmer. He cooked soft rice porridge, adding a pinch of herbs from his garden—leaves commonly known to ease weariness. Warm steam filled the room. The stranger ate slowly, almost appreciatively, as if every bite were worth gold. Nirei watched him, not knowing what to say, convinced his food didn’t deserve that much appreciation. It was just simple okayu, after all.

When he finished, the man bowed deeply. “I cannot thank you enough.” From his bag, he drew out a piece of simple jewelry. “I don’t have much coin. Please accept this instead.”

Nirei shook his head quickly. Oh please why are this people, first Sakura, now this traveler, really think he wanted money for the food he gave out. His okayu really didn’t deserve to be traded for jewelry.

“Oh, no, that’s not necessary.” Nirei turned down the offer.

“It’s really okay. It’s carved wood rather than fine jewelry, so it doesn’t cost much. This is what I’m good at, and I want you to have it.” The man pressed the piece into Nirei’s hand, smiling faintly. Nirei examined it. The carving was genuine and honest in its detail. The curves was soft, indicating that it was a careful craftsmanship.

“So, are you like a jewel artisan?” he asked quietly, still studying the piece with awe.

“Yeah, something like that. Though I was just robbed, so I’m kind of tight on money this week, haha.” The traveler laughed easily, though it made Nirei want to scold him. That’s why you don’t sleep carelessly outside!

“How about this, can you help me with something? I’ll pay you for it.” Nirei nodded to himself.

“Do you have broken jewelry? I can fix it for you…”

Nirei smiled happily, then leaned to the shelf and took out a small box from one of the drawers. Inside was a beautiful hairpin.

The hairpin was simple yet elegant. Firm wood polished to a soft accessory, its slender shape flowing like a brushstroke. It was delicate with faint patterns of leaves and petals. The little shiny stones dangling from the petals was as graceful as the stars.

“How beautiful…”

“It belonged to my mother. She gave it to me when I came of age.”

The jewel artisan blushed. “Oh, do you want to…”

Nirei laughed. “I’m not! It’s here, see? I bought this pearl with my salary. Could you maybe add it to the hairpin?”

“Oh, I’d be honored. Yes, I think I can set the pearl into it.”

So Togame stayed for the day. Nirei watched as he tinkered with his tools. He wore small round glasses on his nose, which Nirei guessed helped him see the fine details. It amazed him how someone so large could handle such tiny things with care. Sometimes Nirei went to do his chores; sometimes he brought water and rice crackers for them to share. He learned the traveler’s name was Togame. He had come from a southern village near Nihonbashi and liked traveling from village to village, seeing the world and experiencing different food and cultures. Togame told many stories and jokes. This was his first time in a big town.

When the weather started to turn chilly, the hairpin was finished. Nirei stared at the result. It had been transformed into something more radiant. The pearl sat at the base of the pin, gleaming softly, cradled by the wooden petals as if it had always belonged there. The craftsmanship gave it new life without losing its original grace.

“Your hands are like magic, Togame-san.”

“I think your intent to add your own effort and memory to it was more admirable.”

Nirei blushed at the compliment, grinning despite himself. He tried to play it cool by rummaging through his pocket for money.

“Here, at least enough for a night’s stay and a few meals. I wish you a safe journey.”

“Thank you, Nirei. I suppose it’s time for me to leave.” Togame slung his bamboo bag over his shoulder and took up his hat. But before stepping away, he looked back at Nirei.

“Could I try something?” Togame returned to the room and took the hairpin from Nirei’s hand. He brushed it softly, then reached forward and gently tied it into Nirei’s hair. When he finished, he smoothed back a loose strand that had fallen near Nirei’s ear. Togame smiled gently, satisfied with his work.

“Since it was from your mother, isn’t it good to wear it sometimes yourself? You look beautiful with it…”

Nirei stared at the artisan. He was quiet for a moment, feeling the warmth of the man’s hand against his ear. Then he laughed brightly, moving it away.

“You’re so sweet! I never even thought of that!”

“I mean, it’s a pearl you earned with your own hard work! Such a pity if you never wear it yourself!” Nirei chuckled, wondering why Togame was the one getting offended over his things.

“Yeah… yeah… For this, I’ll let my hair grow a bit longer. I don’t have a mirror, so I don’t know how I look with it.”

Togame stared at him. Nirei’s features were soft and endearing with his fluffy blond hair that caught the light, freckles scattered like sunspots, a round nose, and bright eyes full of life. Even if Nirei didn’t see it, he was always beautiful in Togame’s eyes.

Togame blushed, hiding his face with his hand. “A-anyway… thank you for having me today.”

“You’re welcome. If you come to Nihonbashi again, don’t forget to visit me!”

“Hm. I’d like to order okayu next time.” Togame waved his bamboo hat before putting it back on his head and walking away.

Nirei nodded at the artisan, feeling warm and full, though he still wondered why Togame had said he wanted to order food. Last he checked, he wasn’t running a restaurant, wasn’t he?

Tsugeura Taiga

As Nirei stirred the pot over the hearth, someone peeked through the front door. He hadn’t closed it this time since the heat of the day demanded air to circulate.

“Hi! I’m a street musician. My name is Tsugeura. Can I sing here?”

“Uh, I don’t mind, though but don’t you think it’d be better to sing outside on the street? More people will hear you there.”

“Oh, but I was thinking of promoting your business.”

“What business?”

“Aren’t you selling those chilled soba?”

“To be honest, I don’t sell anything.”

Nirei let out a heavy sigh. Twice now he’d simply fed people, and both times they tried to repay him as if he ran a restaurant. He really didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.

“Awww, that’s a pity! I’m hungry though! Can’t you sell something to this starving musician?”

Tsugeura wore a simple robe. His short hair left his lively, enthusiastic eyes uncovered. His clothes were plain color but clearly not from a cheap fabric, Nirei could tell.

Nirei rolled his eyes. “If you want food, then play a song somewhere else and buy it.”

Tsugeura stared at him for a moment before walking away. Nirei exhaled in relief because finally, a peace for his lunchtime. He went back to drying the soba noodles.

Today was truly a good day. It was the last day of the weekend. The weather was hot but perfect for chilled soba. The wind blew strong, rustling herbs in the garden and the fabric on the clothesline. From outside came the sound of a shamisen, carrying a light, soothing melody that could easily lull Nirei to sleep.

Then he caught the lyrics.

“The sun is round,

My stomach makes sound,

Give me some rice,

Or I’ll fall down twice!”

Nirei bit his lip, trying not to burst out laughing. The lyrics were so ridiculous he couldn’t even enjoy the serene music anymore. For the first time in his life, he wished he didn’t understand Japanese.

The musician kept singing to his heart content. That's when Nirei remembered Tsugeura who almost wanted to buy chilled soba just a few minutes ago. Oh god, right. He also brought a shamisen, didn't he?

Oh well.

He jumped to his feet, still holding the ladle in his hand, and hurried outside without even bothering to close the door. Beyond the communal house gate, there he was: the same musician, strumming away with genuine skill despite the corny words.

Tsugeura ended with a dramatic flourish and grinned up at Nirei. “Oh hello again! That was good, right?”

In fact, Nirei could say it was a really good performance if you count out the lyrics. Nirei realized that his airy dialect carried naturally into his song, making it no wonder he sounded so good.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, singing for the crowd.”

“I mean, why here? In front of the housing area?”

“You don’t like it? I can move if it bothers you.”

“That’s not what I meant…” Nirei pinched the bridge of his nose. He finally sighed, dropped a few bronze coins into the musician’s bowl, and muttered, “I like your voice but wouldn’t it be better to sing popular songs?”

“That’s no good! If I don’t make my own lyrics, I can’t practice making haiku poems!”

Nirei frowned. “Why do you have to be good at haiku poems?”

“Because I like to!” Tsugeura’s grin stretched ear to ear.

The blunt honesty made Nirei pause. Who was he to judge? He himself had chosen bookkeeping simply because he liked writing notes. If Tsugeura loved making poems, then that was reason enough.

Shaking his head, Nirei patted the musician’s shoulder. “Alright. Good luck with your job.”

Later that day, as Nirei sprawled on the tatami like a starfish, half-asleep, a sudden cheerful voice jolted him awake.

“Hello, good sir! I hope you still have the chilled soba!”

“What? Why are you back again?”

“Well, didn’t you say to buy food after I earned money? Here, I’ve got money now!”

“I told you, I don’t sell chilled soba!”

“Aww, you’re turning down a starved musician?”

“That’s not—” Nirei grumbled. He did feel guilty, though. After all, he had been the one who told him to go sing. And now, with Tsugeura so persistent about trying his soba, it felt cruel to refuse.

“…Alright, alright. Whatever. I’ll make you soba.”

“Yayyy! Also, I’ll order a cold ocha and some tempura!”

“Why are you treating my house like a restaurant?!”

As if to answer, Tsugeura’s stomach growled loudly. With a sigh, Nirei relented. Soon the kitchen was filled with the scent of oil as he fried small river fish into crisp tempura.

The moment Tsugeura tasted the food, his eyes went wide. He devoured the soba in moments, then made quick work of the crisp, golden tempura.

“You look like you haven’t eaten in weeks,” Nirei said, half amused, watching him eat.

With his mouth full, Tsugeura laughed. “Haven’t had this since I was home.”

“Home? Where’s that?”

He swallowed and grinned. “A residence in the center of Nihonbashi.”

Nirei almost dropped his chopsticks. The center of Nihonbashi was the capital itself. It was full of samurai, wealthy farmers, and merchants. There was no way this guy was just some common busker.

“Wait, then why are you here, dressed like that?”

“Ran away from home!” Tsugeura declared proudly, striking a pose with his shamisen.

“I’m going to chase my dream as a performer!”

“That’s insane…” Nirei rubbed his forehead.

“Everyone says that,” Tsugeura hummed.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m not giving up.” His smile was as bright as his future.

“You’re good with the shamisen, at least. I’ll give you that.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah. That’s why people toss you coins, right? Keep at it. And if you get famous, don’t forget to invite me, Nirei, to your stage performance.”

Tsugeura laughed, loud and carefree like a Kansai native. Then he clapped his hands together suddenly. “Hey! I know! Why don’t I perform in your restaurant? My music and your food then we’ll be famous in no time!”

“Didn’t you hear me? I’m not running a restaurant.”

Tsugeura waved him off. “I get it. You’re humble, eh? You just want a small, peaceful place. That’s why you’ve got this cozy kitchen and the pretty garden scenery!”

Nirei could only gape. No, this wasn’t a restaurant. It was just his house and his kitchen. That “pretty garden” was only his patch of herbs.

Whether he ignored or pretended not to hear Nirei's refusal of payment, Tsugeura left the coins where they were. With another flourish of his shamisen, he sang as he walked away:

“The food was hot,

The cook was not,

Thank you, good sir,

For filling my pot!”

Nirei buried his face in his hands, laughing and embarrassed at the same time. He just prayed no one else in the neighborhood would get the idea that his home was a restaurant.

His life was already chaotic enough with these strangers who kept coming into his house once in a while.

Kusumi Yuto

That morning, Nirei knelt among his herbs, carefully plucking leaves and sprigs. The doctors had told him to bring more this week, since the season had arrived when everyone was seeking mosquito repellents. He lost himself in the rhythm of the work, so much so that he didn’t hear the soft footsteps approaching behind him.

When at last he straightened, preparing to return inside and go to work, he froze. A man was already strolling into his house.

The stranger’s presence was striking. His hair was light brown, long enough that the bangs shaded the upper part of his face, yet a white ribbon was bound across both eyes. His robes shimmered faintly in the morning light, a flowing fabric of subtle elegance. His skin was pale, smooth as porcelain, and his steps were serene and certain, as though sight had never been necessary for him.

Nirei’s first thought was that the man must be blind and had wandered off his way. His instinct was to help. Hurrying forward, he called to let his presence known, “Excuse me, sir, do you intend to go somewhere?”

The man gave no answer, only a faint smile. Something in that smile unsettled Nirei because it felt as though the stranger knew a secret about him, or even something bigger than the future or the universe itself. Without much of saying a word, the man stepped past him with ease.

As silent as drifting mist, the stranger entered his house. Oh no. Not again, Nirei groaned inwardly.

Once inside, the man placed a heavy coin upon the low table.

“Um… do you need help with something?” Nirei asked, blinking in confusion.

The man lifted a hand, brushing his fingers briefly over his lips in a gesture.

“Ah… I see,” Nirei murmured, finally understanding.

Feeling oddly weirded by the situation, he did his best with what little he had. 

He chose a simple kitsune udon. A thick wheat noodle in steaming broth, topped with sweet fried tofu. The savory aroma filled the small kitchen, curling with the heat of morning. 

Nirei set the bowl before the guest. His hands were trembling, it was as though preparing food for a shrine offering.

“Err… will this be enough, good sir?”

The man inclined his head once, then ate quietly. Every movement was deliberate, every bite savored with silent enjoyment. He never spoke while he eat, not even when the bowl was emptied.

When at last he rose, his departure was as quiet as his arrival. Still, Nirei couldn’t bear to let him leave unguided. He gently offered his arm, helping the man step down from the raised tatami floor to the ground path outside.

When they reached the front door, before Nirei could bow in farewell, the man stared back at him. He smiled faintly and then he leaned down to reach Nirei's lips.

The kiss was light as a feather, lingering only a breath before it was gone. Yet it left a tingling heat that spread across his skin, setting his face aflame. Nirei stood frozen, too stunned to say a word.

When the man stepped back, he still wore that mysterious smile. He stepped away with that satisfied grin on his face. Still without a sound he left the kitchen and disappeared into the brightening day.

When the mysterious man disappeared like thin air, everything suddenly felt heavy. The sun was warm outside, the summer breeze rustled his hair, and a sudden, inexplicable sleepiness overtook him. Feeling drowsy, Nirei let himself fall onto the tatami. He forgot entirely about the bundle of herbs he was supposed to deliver to the medicine shop.

It was late at night when he finally woke to terrible news.

The townspeople shouted about a great fire sweeping through Edo. Street after street had been devoured, reduced to ash in the roaring blaze. Later, they would call it the Great Fire of Meireki, one of the worst disasters to ever befall the capital.

Because Nirei’s house was far in the outskirts, he was spared from the fire. Had he gone to town as usual, he might not have returned alive.

He sat alone in the quiet kitchen, numb from the weight of the news. Outside, some of his neighbors were already packing, preparing to flee back to their villages in search of safety.

Then, his thoughts returned to the man with the ribbon. Nirei lifted his fingers, brushing his lips, still trembling. “What was that?”

There was no way it had been divine intervention or at least, Nirei told himself so. The more he tried to deny it, the less certain that the blind, mysterious man had even been human at all.

The memory of that faint smile haunted him. Though he would not say it aloud, a part of him hoped that he might meet that mysterious man again someday. At least, to offer him a bowl of kitsune udon for his gratitude.

Umemiya Hajime

Three days after the great fire had finally perished, everything still felt heavy. Even though the flames never reached the outskirts, the air carried the lingering smell of smoke throughout the whole day. Sometimes the wind even carried bits of ash, falling onto herbs and rooftops like cursed gray snow.

Every street in Edo looked sorrowful and strained. Neighbors wept over those they had lost. Shopkeepers counted their burned beams and empty shelves. Travelers spread rumors of rows of bodies lined up after the disaster.

Nirei’s master, the physician who owned the medicine shop, had been spared during those three days of nightmare. His home and family were safe. Still, not everything was spared. Most of his stock from the herbs, powders, and jars of rare roots was burned in the fire. 

After the disaster, waves of sick and injured came to his house. Demand grew, but supplies were scarce. The burden of keeping everything in order weighed heavily on Nirei.

He spent long days hunched over ledgers. He counted losses, adjusted payments, and tried to stretch what little profit remained so the apprentices could still eat. His fingers ached from endless writing. His eyes burned from staring at ink until the lines blurred together.

Even after leaving the shop at dusk, the numbers followed him home. His work never lessened; instead, it only piled higher each day. Salary day brought no excitement. His exhaustion outweighed the meager payment. He hadn’t even done his own chores for days, with no time or energy left.

That evening was no different. Weary and distracted, he trudged back through the narrow lanes of the communal housing, already thinking of which accounts he needed to revise. Sliding the wooden gate aside, he stopped short. Someone was waiting in front of his door.

A broad-shouldered man who build like a farmer stood there, balancing a heavy basket of rice with ease. His clothes were plain but neat, his sleeves rolled up as though physical labor was natural to him. Loose strands of silver hair fell against his dimpled cheek.

“Uh, I’m sorry, but who are you?” Nirei asked, wondering if they had met before.

“My name is Umemiya. You’re Nirei, the owner of this humble restaurant, aren’t you?”

Nirei ruffled his tangled hair, already dreading the misunderstanding.

“I heard someone’s been feeding hungry folks,” Umemiya said cheerfully. His voice was loud and warm. “So I thought I’d bring a little something in return!”

Umemiya smiled so openly and brightly that it startled Nirei. It was strange to see someone smile that way despite everything that had happened.

“Oh, I’m sorry, but you misunderstood. I’m not running a restaurant!” Nirei nearly choked on his own breath.

Umemiya laughed heartily, as though already familiar with this protest. Perhaps the townsfolk had told him the supposed ‘restaurant owner’ was too humble to call it such.

“Restaurant or not, you’ve been helping people, haven’t you?”

He winked and walked past Nirei without hesitation. Setting the rice basket down with a heavy thud, he brushed off his hands and grabbed the broom by the wall.  Nirei didn't have time to react, Umemiya had already begun sweeping the stone path.

“Wait, what are you…” Nirei darted forward, flustered.

“You’re neglecting your restaurant, haven't you? Look at all this dust.”

Umemiya worked with ease, broad hands moving quickly, whistling an easy tune as he swept. When he finished, he stretched his back, crossed to the well, and drew water with a rope and bucket. Carrying it inside, he moved about the house as though it were his own, while Nirei trailed helplessly behind.

“Please, that’s not necessary!” Nirei exclaimed. “You’ll dirty your hands, you don’t have to do all these chores for me!”

Umemiya only smiled. “I’ve got free time, so don’t feel bad, okay?”

lHis voice was gentle as he patted Nirei’s hair. The warm pressure from his big hand, softened Nirei’s protests. He stood helplessly as the stranger moved about the house and organized the pile of stuff he couldn't get the time to manage. As the other man hummed a tune, the small rooms felt brighter, simply because the man filled them.

Eventually, Nirei could not bear watching Umemiya doing free labor any longer. Guilt tugged at him, and he decided he had to repay the kindness. He went to the kitchen and began preparing a meal with what he had at hand.

He sliced carrots into rounds, then cut daikon into thick wedges. A few taro roots, peeled and softened, joined the pot. The broth began to bubble, releasing a savory-sweet fragrance that wrapped the house in comfort. 

From the heavy basket of rice Umemiya had brought, he washed a handful of grains until the water ran clear, then set them to steam. Today he was making nimomo, a side dish of simmered vegetables stewed in soy and dashi.

When Nirei placed the bowls on the low table, Umemiya’s eyes lit up. He clapped his hands together in thanks before digging in with delight.

“This is wonderful!” Umemiya laughed between bites. The carrots tasted sweet, the daikon turned soft enough to melt on the tongue, and it paired so well with the fragrant rice.

“Ah, you’re so amazing! I think you could even compete with my sister's cook!”

Nirei felt his ears burn. It was just a humble nimono, nothing more. Umemiya praised every detail as if he had been served at the finest restaurant in Nihonbashi. His laughter filled the little house. 

Nirei realized that for the first time in days, he found himself smiling without effort. Being with this man feels like he could finally find the little happiness in life again.

Halfway through the meal, Nirei let himself be comfortable around the other man. He slumped into the low table, playing with the cup of water. “You’re the one who's amazing, Umemiya san.”

The man wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, frowning slightly at Nirei. “After the fire disaster, I haven’t been myself. I was buried in work and couldn’t even do chores. This is the first time I’ve cooked in three days.”

“Oh, no wonder it’s always closed lately…” Umemiya hummed. Nirei didn’t even have the energy to correct him about the ‘restaurant.’

Setting his chopsticks down with care, Umemiya inclined his head. “It’s hard to stay positive during times like this, isn’t it? I can imagine.”

Nirei gave a weak laugh and buried his head in his arms. “I guess so. It feels like no matter how hard I work, it’s useless.”

Umemiya leaned closer, lowering himself to meet Nirei’s downcast gaze. “That’s only because you care. Even I can’t sit still in my home, I go here and there, trying to help where I can. Even you still go to work every day despite the weight on your shoulders. We all just want things to get better, through small acts we could manage. Isn’t that already the most important?”

Nirei blinked at him. “I don’t know if it’s really that important…”

“Don’t doubt yourself!” Umemiya said firmly, tapping the table for emphasis. “Everyone in Edo is hurting in their own way. It’ll take time for things to settle, but every small effort matters. Every little progress brings us closer to normal again.”

Nirei looked down at his lap, blinking back the sting of tears. Umemiya smiled softly and patted his head, ruffling the blond hair that drooped toward the floor.

“It’s okay to be sad,” Umemiya said gently. “But sadness doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to rest, or to be happy now and then.”

He lifted Nirei’s chin with one hand until their eyes met. “C’mon. You smile. The world needs more happiness, especially during this time.”

Nirei finally gave a small, honest smile. He then chuckled after he realized how silly and sad he was being when all he needed was just a good rest. 

A small, honest smile spread across Nirei’s face, followed by a chuckle at how foolish he had been to carry it all alone.

“Yes, more of that.” Umemiya reached out to pinch his cheek. “Not only does it help you stay positive, you look cuter when you smile.”

Nirei laughed brightly. “Now, Umemiya-san, you’re just trying to make me laugh!”

Umemiya spared a stupid grin, his expression as cheerful as ever. By the time he finished, his bowl was spotless. He leaned back with a satisfied sigh, ready to leave.

“Come again, if you will. I’d gladly welcome you,” Nirei said, waving him off.

Umemiya blinked, “Of course I’ll be back! I haven’t tried the rest of your menu!”

Nirei could only sigh as the man walked away, skipping lightly, an empty basket swinging at his side. He whistled cheerfully until he disappeared down the road.

Nirei shuddered, praying Umemiya wouldn’t bring more ‘customers’ to his supposed restaurant.

Hiragi Toma

The very next night, just as Nirei was trying to enjoy his dinner in peace, there was a sharp knock that rattled the door. His bowl slipped in surprise, miso broth smudging across the low table. Nirei sighed and searched for a rag to dry the spill.

He stared at the door, debating whether to ignore it. These days, every knock seemed to bring more customers to his nonexistent restaurant. When the door rattled again, louder and more insistent, he flinched.

Taking a steadying breath, Nirei slid the wooden gate aside. He had already prepared to say, “I’m sorry but I don’t own a restaurant, and if you believe so, the restaurant is closed for today.”

Instead, the words that slipped out were:
“You’re back again?”

The broad-shouldered farmer greeted him cheerfully, grin wide as ever. “Long time no see!”

“What are you saying? You were just here yesterday.”

“Aww, you don’t look happy to see me.” Umemiya pouted lightly.

Nirei rubbed the back of his head. “I was just surprised to see you come again so quickly… what?”

His words cut short as he noticed the man standing just behind Umemiya. A stranger loomed there, tall and severe, clad in a dark samurai uniform of the finest fabric. His posture was rigid, his face chiseled into sharp lines. His brow seemed permanently furrowed as though it was carved that way.

When the man’s sharp gaze fell on him, Nirei saw his hand resting on the hilt of a sword nearly as long as his own height. His stomach dropped. It was even longer than Sakura’s blade, he thought. His knees wobbled as though they might give out if he didn’t cling to the wall.

“See?! I told you not to come!” Umemiya groaned, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

The samurai only exhaled through his nose. It sounded more like a snort than a sigh. His voice was low and commanding, “Young master, you must stop roaming around town! The head master is worried sick about you!”

“I was just helping people in need! I even made a friend in town and now he probably doesn’t want to befriend me because you scared him.” Umemiya sighed in exasperation.

“Please don’t bring me into this…” Nirei groaned quietly.

The samurai crossed his arms over his chest, the fabric straining against his broad frame. “Yes, but it’s dangerous! What if you were robbed? What if you were kidnapped? What if—oh, for heaven’s sake, get your ass back here.”

Suddenly, Umemiya moved behind Nirei, resting his large hands on the boy’s shoulders. Nirei jolted at the sudden weight, heat rushing to his cheeks. Nirei shook his head. This man probably was presenting Nirei to the wolf or protected himself from the storm.

“Look at him,” Umemiya said, shaking Nirei’s shoulders lightly as if presenting a precious doll. “So small and cute. Do you think he looks dangerous?”

The samurai’s sharp gaze dropped to Nirei. The silence was unbearable. Nirei’s heart thudded so loudly he was certain they could hear it. Those eyes felt sharp enough to slice through his soul, he didn’t need a blade to finish him.

Finally, the man gave a quiet huff. “…At least that much is true.”

Nirei nearly sank into the ground with relief. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to speak. “U-um… how about dinner? I, I have food inside!”

The words slipped out before he could stop them. He didn’t even know why he kept offering food to strangers. Perhaps it had already become habit. The samurai blinked, faint surprise flickering across his stone face, but it was Umemiya who burst out first.

“Oho! Aren’t you a kind owner! C’mon, Hiragi! He’s got the best cook in town!” Umemiya’s eyes practically sparkled with hunger.

He was already making himself comfortable inside, leaving only Nirei and Hiiragi standing by the doorway. The tall man lingered there, awkward, as if waiting for explicit permission. Nirei rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Please, come inside. I… I’m not the best cook like Umemiya-san says, but I can give you dinner.”

The man hesitated only a moment before stepping forward. His voice was curt: “Do you have grilled mackerel?”

Nirei blinked, startled by the sudden request, then nodded. “Y-yes, I can make that.”

Relieved to have something to do, he hurried to the kitchen. Soon, the crackle of fish over the coals filled the room. The savory scent of sizzling fat curling through the air. Nirei plated it neatly with rice and a small bowl of miso broth.

When the first bite of mackerel touched his lips, Hiragi’s expression barely changed, but there was the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. “…It is acceptable,” he said at last.

Nirei froze, unsure if that was good or bad. Umemiya slapped the table, roaring with laughter. “Ha! That’s high praise from him! Hiiragi’s picky with seafood, if he says ‘acceptable,’ that’s basically a success!”

Nirei ducked his head, embarrassed, though a small relief bloomed quietly in his chest. As they ate, Umemiya kept the conversation flowing, chatting about the rebuilding efforts in town. Hiiragi scolded his young master for reckless wandering, but his eyes often slid toward Nirei whenever the younger man poured water or set down a dish.

At first, Nirei trembled under that stare. But soon, he realized there was no hostility in it. If anything, it was almost attentive, as though Hiiragi was studying him closely. It felt kind of nice.

When Umemiya left briefly to fetch water from the well, silence fell between them. Nirei fidgeted, then finally asked as he refilled the broth: “Er… do you want to order something else?”

Hiiragi raised a brow. He sighed quietly. “You don’t have to pretend to be a restaurant owner with me.”

Nirei blinked. Then, all at once, slumped to the floor with a loud sigh of relief.

Startled, Hiiragi leaned forward. “O-oi, get up! What are you doing?” He reached out, pulling Nirei’s arm to help him sit again, brushing dust from his kimono with stiff, awkward hands.

“I’m just so happy, I guess. You’re the first person to actually believe me when I say I’m not a restaurant owner.” Nirei admitted with a weak laugh.

Hiiragi’s lips quirked faintly. “Yeah… young master can be a force of nature. I apologize on his behalf for disturbing your home.”

“It’s okay, really. He helped me so much when we first met, both physically and mentally.”

Hiiragi nodded slowly. “I can see why he thinks this is a restaurant, though. Your food tastes that good. It’s been a while since I’ve had grilled mackerel. Ever since the fire, the supply has been scarce.”

“Ah, if you like seafood, you can marinate fish yourself. If you use salt, it preserves for months. Here, something like this.”

“I never knew you could do that.”

“I suppose it’s not common in wealthy households, but us commoners usually do it. Saves money, and we can still enjoy fish even when fresh ones aren’t available. Do you want to try some, Hiiragi-san?”

Nirei lifted a small piece of salted fish with his chopsticks, holding it out. Hiiragi leaned forward stiffly, lips brushing the edge of the chopsticks as he took the bite. The closeness Hiragi’s ears burn.

“—hmngh! It’s too salty!” Hiiragi coughed, and Nirei quickly laughed, patting his back while offering a cup of water.

“Yeah, it can be like that sometimes. You kind of have to boil or grill it first to cut through the salt.”

Hiiragi furrowed his brows at the younger man, then reached out and pinched both his cheeks. “You could’ve told me beforehand!”

“My fault, my fault!” Nirei laughed brightly, cheeks squished between Hiiragi’s fingers. To his own surprise, Hiiragi found himself smiling as he tugged gently at those soft cheeks. Umemiya was right. He is cute when he realized it.

Hiiragi finally let go, only to freeze when he noticed the sliding door. There stood Umemiya, basket of water in hand, gaping at the scene. His grin widened until it looked ready to split his face.

“Good job! I’m proud of you, Hiiragi!”

Hiiragi turned crimson, leaping to his feet. “Wait, you’ve got it all wrong!”

Nirei: “??”

Kiryu Mitsuki 

When Nirei returned home from work that night, he nearly dropped his ledger book at the sight of yet another stranger waiting in his resting chair outside. A young man with smooth, silky hair lounged there without care.

His fine robes shimmered faintly in the dusk, patterns woven with such elegance that anyone could tell they were the work of a master craftsman. The young man waved lazily, grinning as if greeting an old friend.

“Ohhh! The owner finally returns! You were gone so long, I thought I’d starve waiting for you to open!”

Nirei stunned in the doorway, shoulders sagging. “…Not this again.”

He sighed, set his ledger aside, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Listen. If you want food, I only have leftover okayu. I can add a little sauce, but that’s all. I still need to do my ledgers. Eat it or leave it.”

The young man brightened immediately, unbothered by Nirei’s grumpiness. “Perfect!”

So Nirei set down a bowl of plain rice porridge, drizzled with what little shoyu he had left and sprinkled with chopped leaves and crushed nuts. He didn’t wait to see if the stranger liked it. The stranger accepted it without hesitation and dug in.

The okayu was soft, steaming, and sweet from the rice. The shoyu brought out a deep savoriness, while the toasted nuts gave it a crunch that tingled the sensory. Kiryu ate it in silence until he left with an empty bowl

“This tastes so good, Nirei-chan.”

“—Chan?” Nirei furrowed his brows and rolled his eyes. “Yeah? Why do you have to come all the way out here just for okayu? It’s not like you can’t find it near your house.”

“I just wanted to stroll around town,” Kiryu said with a shrug.

Nirei squinted at him. “You don’t look like someone who enjoys walking.”

“Haha, you can tell, huh?” Kiryu laughed easily, as if amused by his own poor lie.

Nirei sighed in exasperation. “Is your house in Nihonbashi?”

“No, I was saved from the fire, thankfully. Still, I had to relocate to this town. Do you know the Kiryu Fabric Factory?”

The robes he wore suddenly made sense, they were likely the handiwork of his own family’s artisans. Nirei hummed. Ah, so that explained the expensive robe.

He returned to his ledgers, the brush scratching over the paper. Numbers blurred into each other as he worked, the rhythm of calculation settling him into focus. He was in his comfortable state of concentration until he realized the man had crept closer.

“Mm? What are you doing?” the silk-robed figure asked, crouching beside him. His perfume clashed oddly with the earthy smell of ink. The fragrance plum blossoms in spring, sweet and a little sharp, clinging in the air.

“…Working,” Nirei muttered, eyes fixed firmly on the numbers.

“Ohhh…” the man breathed, as if he’d just discovered something fascinating.

Nirei ignored him, or tried to until warmth pressed suddenly against his back. He went rigid. The man had wrapped his arms around him from behind, chin resting lazily on his shoulder. The rustle of silk brushed his ear.

“Hmm… you make a good pillow,” he murmured.

Nirei’s face burned scarlet. “W-what do you think you’re—”

Nirei stared back at the wealthy man. His body slumped fully against him. His weight grew heavy and his breaths deepening into the steady rhythm of sleep.

Nirei sighed in annoyance. He wanted to shove the lazy man off, but the warmth was strangely soothing. The steady heartbeat against his back, the faint scent of blossoms, the heaviness pinning him in place felt suffocating and comforting all at once.

Still, after a few moments, the weight became too much. He wriggled uselessly, only earning a faint groan and a sleepy nuzzle against his shoulder.

“I can’t work like this,” he muttered bitterly. The lamplight flickered on his unfinished pages. Their shadows dancing as if mocking his struggle.

Minutes passed. The moon climbed higher. Fireflies drifted lazily in the garden’s edge. Nirei’s shoulders ached, but still the stranger slept soundly. At last, the man stirred. His lashes fluttered open, revealing green eyes that caught the firelight.

“…Oh, you’re still here,” he said groggily.

“Yes, now can you go home? This is not an inn nor a restaurant.” Nirei’s tone was sharp.

“No, I can’t.” Kiryu leaned down onto the tatami, propping his head on one hand.

Nirei blinked in disbelief. “Did you… run away from home?”

“Not really. I don’t plan to run for real. I just need a space.”

Nirei sighed. Somehow, Kiryu reminded him of Tsugeura. Wealth, he thought, didn’t mean freedom. If anything, it seemed to chain people down even tighter.

“I don’t get rich people, they can’t speak their mind freely, and when they do, it’s always through some passive-aggressive answer.” he muttered.

Kiryu laughed. “Yeah, being able to speak your mind is the true luxury of the commoner.”

“Still, you have money. You should stay in a proper inn, not in a stranger’s house like this.” Nirei nudged him lightly, though Kiryu had already rolled himself comfortably into his futon.

“You’re not a stranger. I heard from the townsfolk that the owner of this restaurant is cute and kind. That’s why I came here.” Kiryu singsonged lightly, clearly enjoying making the man blush.

Nirei clicked his tongue, cheeks warming despite himself. “As a wealthy person, you should’ve learned ‘stranger danger.’ Aren’t you afraid I’d rob you?”

Kiryu grinned devilishly. He slid closer, then suddenly pulled Nirei back by the shoulders until he toppled onto the tatami. Nirei gasped, caught off guard, as Kiryu loomed above him, sitting on his stomach.

Kiryu smirked down at him. “As a commoner without protection, you’re the one who should learn ‘stranger danger.’ Aren’t you afraid of a stranger sleeping on you?”

Nirei’s cheeks burned even redder as Kiryu leaned close, his nose brushing against his cheek, their fingers intertwining. Their breaths mingled in the narrow space, leaving Nirei’s heart pounding like a drum.

“K-Kiryu…” Nirei bit his lip.

Satisfied with teasing, Kiryu finally slid off him and settled beside him instead, pulling Nirei into his arms as if afraid he might slip away. He yawned. “Now, now. It’s already too late to find a room. Let me stay for tonight.”

“Huh? No! My ledgers! I haven’t finished them yet!!”

Kiryu clicked his tongue. “I’m tired. You need rest. So let’s call it a night, yeah? We both need sleep.”

Nirei struggled half-heartedly, but Kiryu’s hold was unyielding. The man was already drifting into dreams, leaving Nirei trapped in his warmth. Finally, Nirei sighed in defeat, letting his body relax. He would never admit it aloud, but being held like this felt good in a comforting way.

Ah, forget it. The ledgers could wait until tomorrow.

Kaji Ren

The sliding door slammed open so hard the wooden frame rattled. Of all of Nirei's unexpected customers, this was truly rudest one.

“Governor Kaji on duty. What’s the meaning of this?!”

Nirei jumped. The skewers in his hands almost flew across the room.

A fierce-looking man stood in the doorway. He wore a kamishimo, its broad shoulders stiff with starch. His hakama flared wide, patterned with the shogunate crest. A  sword gleamed at his hip.

Oh shit, it can't be anyone else. This man was most likely a government official. What the hell did he do to even get a visit from the officials?!

“You! What was your name? Yeah, Nirei!” Even though the man needed to check his notes again, he was barking in a loud voice. It was sharp enough for the gecko living under the stove to run away. 

“Do you have a license for running this establishment?!”

Nirei trembled in fear. Never once in his life would he imagined he had to deal with the government. It’s so unlikely since he just wants to be a good citizen.

“G-governor…?! Please, I swear, I never opened a restaurant! These people just keep showing up, and then they pay even though I told them not to!”

“Liar!” Governor Kaji roared. His arm shot out, pointing at the skewers in Nirei’s hands. “You were clearly preparing to sell those dango!”

Nirei blinked. He looked down at the sticky dough in the bowl. The soy glaze in the other big bowl he prepared.

“…Oh, these? I was just trying to make them for myself.”

Governor Kaji squinted. His scowl faltered just slightly. He stepped inside, his sandals clicking against the wood. His gaze inspected the way Nirei tried to make the dango.

“…Hm.” He rubbed his chin, curious about Nirei's handicraft.

Kaji leaned closer with arms still crossed. His eyes never left Nirei’s hands. It was as if Nirei was putting on a show of making the dango. Nirei glanced up, startled. Kaji leaned closer and suddenly it was too close for Nirei's liking.

“…You seem very interested,” Nirei said cautiously. He gulped then paused mid-roll, “Governor, are you busy with duty?”

Kaji raised his eyebrow, “If you have time to spare would you want to try making one yourself?”

The governor was stunned. His stern gaze practically changed into a spark. Nirei tried to hide his smile, the governor looked like a kid who just got offered some sweets.

“I- I mean, Of course I'm still working!” Kaji brushed his hair, “But okay, I think I can spare some time.”

Nirei didn't dare to mention the burning tips of his ears. Nirei nodded quietly then made a space for the governor to sit beside him.

The governor rolled up his sleeves. He sat down stiffly beside Nirei. Nirei placed a dough in his large hands. The governor stared at it, not knowing what to do with the sticky lump of dough.

“You just have to roll it gently,” Nirei instructed. “Like this, if you feel sticky then add this flour.”

Kaji pinched it between his palms. The dough squashed flat. Nirei stifled his laugh. “That's not round, what are you doing?”

Kaji scowled at the dough, ears reddening further. He tried to do the same as Nirei, grabbed it and then rolled it in his hand. “It’s… oval. Why is it not round? How do you even make the same shape??”

Nirei laughed while the governor complained about everything. He still keeps trying to make one, though, so Nirei just lets him make the weirdest round shape he has ever seen.

“Try again, now with the red bean paste.” Nirei gave him another piece, which was filled with red bean paste.

This time, Kaji tried to be gentler. He rolled it between his palms, but his movements were stiff, too forceful that the paste flowed out of the dumpling. 

Nirei covered his mouth, shoulders shaking. “Governor… I'm sorry but you’re so terrible at this.”

Kaji turned his head, trying to hide his crimson cheek. “Then teach me properly! You keep laughing at my mistakes!”

Feeling somewhat guilty and a bit of pity for the stressed governor, Nirei did help. He placed his smaller hands over Kaji’s, guiding the motion. 

“Like this, you have to make sure to pinch everything so it closes properly. Now, you only have to roll it gently.” His voice softened as their hands moved together, the dough slowly shaping into a perfect sphere.

Kaji’s breath hitched. He stared at their joined hands, then at Nirei’s focused expression. The governor said nothing at all, enjoying the pressure from his side and the way the smaller hand guided his hand.

When the dumpling was finally round, Nirei lifted it proudly. “See? Not bad.”

Kaji cleared his throat and straightened, his face serious again. “Of course. I learn quickly.”

“Yes, yes, live your truth, governor.” Nirei sings songs just to make the governor happy.

At last, the dango went into the pot of boiling water. The little colorful balls bobbed to the surface, steam curling into the air.

“They’ll need some time to cook through,” he explained, wiping his hands on a cloth.

Kaji glaring at the pot as though his willpower alone might speed things up. His stomach growled, it was loud in the small  quiet room.

“How long?” he asked sharply.

“Twenty minutes,” Nirei replied.

“Twenry?! That's basically waiting for death from starvation!” Kaji’s voice cracked in outrage. 

Nirei gave him a look. He never thought that the governor could be this dramatic over dango.

Kaji sighed in annoyed huff. His eyes narrowed, following the dango as they bobbed and swirled. “Look at them, they mock us for our starvation.”

Nirei laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “They’re not mocking us. They’re cooking so they'll be ready to come into your stomach”

Nirei grinned while poking the governor’s stomach. Kaji looked away to hide his pout. He slumped into the low table, then drummed his feet against the floor, the. standing up again lean in beside Nirei.

His eyes wandered towards the man who was crouched by the hearth, adjusting the firewood and watching the dumplings bob. His blond hair caught the sun, soft at the edges. A little strand fell forward as he leaned, brushing his cheek.

Kaji found that the cheek was so round. It looked smooth and probably as plump as the dango he made. Kaji blinked, sitting up straighter. What a ridiculous thought. 

The longer he stared, the more the comparison grew. Nirei’s skin looked tender, the faintest pink from the heat of the fire. He could almost imagine the texture. Oh, it must be soft, sticky, and plump beneath his teeth.

Kaji’s stomach growled. The dumplings were still rolling lazily in the pot, nowhere near done. His hunger only grew stronger. He swallowed hard and then, without thinking he parted his lips and leaned forward to

chomp.

“Ahhhh!!!” Nirei shrieked, clutching his face. “You bit me?! You actually bit my cheek?!”

The governor jerked back, his face exploding red. He looked away, facing his back to Nirei, pretending to be busy staring at the shelf. “What was that about? Why did you even do that?!” Nirei wailed.

“Um, I don't know. It just looked soft and tasty like dango and I was hungry…”

“What?!” Nirei screamed in disbelief, tears stinging his eyes. “It hurts! My cheek is stinging now!”

Panicked, Kaji looked back at Nirei and quickly rubbed the injured spot with his thumb, babbling apologies. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me. Uhhh, what should I do?”

Nirei flailed, smacking his hands away. “Don’t try to rub it! It's still stinging, you know!”

“Then what should I do? Why, you want me to kiss it better or what?!” Kaji screamed in distress. 

When he realized what he was just saying, his whole face turned into a rip apple. Feeling like he lost his dignity, Kaji hid his face in the low table. The silence that followed was broken only by the hiss of bubbling water in the pot.

Not long after that, Kaji feels his shoulder was patted by someone. He slowly lifted his head, not quite daring to see Nirei's face.

“It’s done. Do you want to try one, Governor?”

Kaji found the dango that was already skewered and glazed with soy sauce. His eyes quickly sparkled at the glistening dango, the glaze dripping as if teasing him to eat the sweet treats. He plucked one from the skewer then bit in.

“I like it so much!” he gasped, eyes wide as he chewed with vigor.

Nirei smiled softly. “Really? You don't think it's too sweet?”

“What do you mean? This is perfection!”

Kaji had already grabbed the rest of the skewers. He devoured them with shocking speed, cheeks bulging, sauce dripping down his chin.

“I’ll buy all of them!” he declared.

Nirei laughed, “No need, governor. You already helped me make it. It's been a while since I cook with someone else and it was fun”

Kaji blushed again. He gulped his last bite, “I’m sorry again… I didn't mean to hurt you.”

“Yeah, maybe don't do it again next time! It's okay though, it doesn't feel that stingy anymore.”

Kaji could only bite his lips. He still felt guilty as he stared at Nirei. Even though Nirei said he was okay, there was a red spot on his face that wouldn't go away.

“I still should pay. Here, use it to buy salve for your swollen cheek” Kaji nodded in remorse as he offered a few coins.

“Hm, you're so kind, governor. Let's cook something again someday!” Nirei smiled brightly.

Kaji sighed in relief as he walked out of the house. In his hand, there was a plate with leftover dango that Nirei forced him to take back home. Halfway to his office, Kaji was stunned on his walk.

“Oh wait, I forgot to give him the license registration paper.”

Suo Hayato

For the first time since all kinds of these customers had begun arriving, someone actually knocked at Nirei’s front door.

He blinked. Most of his unexpected guests had slipped in through the herb or barging in uninvited; none had ever bothered with the proper entrance. 

Nirei patted his knees, making himself appearable. He opened the sliding door only to reveal a man in fine robes.

The robes were cut in a style Nirei had only seen in portraits. It was so rare that Nirei could understand that he was not a common wealthy merchant. His tassel earrings swung as the man inclined his head. 

One eye was shaded beneath a patch. He smiled gently as he greeted Nirei in a pleasant voice. He carried a box, lacquered and ornate, which he set upon the table with a bow.

“If you come for food—” Nirei began, already inwardly bracing for the usual.

“I do not come for food,” the man said, his voice still sending shivers to Nirei's heart. 

“Forgive my abruptness. My name is Suo. I have heard of an adept hand who prepares dishes with care. I ask only for advice. What side would best suit this tea?” He opened the small box and let Nirei inspect the dry leaves inside.

Nirei leaned forward automatically, curious despite himself. The leaves smelled of distant mountains and a fragrance unfamiliar but not unpleasants. He placed his nose to the corner of the box and inhaled.

“Southern tea, I think.” he said before he realized he had spoken aloud. 

“Uhm, I'm not really knowledgeable in the tea department but a safe choice would be yokan or wagashi.”

Suo’s iris gleamed excitedly at the answer. “Where should I get those?” he asked.

Nirei hesitated. “I think you can find it in Nihonbashi but I don't know if they already sell those sweets, if you go to another city then…”

Nirei gulped as he watched the fine young man look so sad and upset in that clear wine eye. “I- I mean if you want to wait for an hour I have the ingredients to make yokan”

“Oh, right! An hour is acceptable,” Suo said simply.

So Nirei set to work. He boiled the beans slowly and mashed them with patience. He pressed the mixture into a small block of yokan. Then with Suo’s permission, he brewed the tea, measuring each step with care since it was clearly a priced stuff.

When he set the pale, glossy slice of sweet beside the steaming cup, Suo smiled. The smile grew warm. Suo sampled the yokan, and sipped the tea. He closed his eye with the same serene ease, and when he opened it again he was still smiling.

“This is excellent. I’m glad I could taste it with you” he said softly. He set the teacup down, then reached across the table and took both of Nirei’s hands. Nirei started to get antsy by the sudden affection. 

“Listen to me. Honestly, I don't only come to ask for advice.” Suo said, his voice dropping to a whisper. 

Nirei didn't know why his heart started to beat faster. He, of course, thought the man was handsome and respectable, but he didn't remember it was more than admiration.

Suo squished both of his hands again, “I have admired you since a long time ago.”

Nirei: “???”

“The owner of this communal housing was my colleague, and he told me so much about you that I got interested in watching you from afar.

Nirei: wait, wait, wait.

“I have seen your hard work, your genuine kindness, the way you easily helped those people in the form of your food.”

Nirei really wanted to run and hide away for now, but just the slightest move, Suo held him in place.

“I can't bring myself to wait for longer and decided I should taste your food. This is, pardon my unromantic confession, but I really want you to come with me, cook for me, and be my wife.”

The thunder struck the rooftop of Nirei's house which was probably true for how he felt right now.

His face was burned from zero to one hundred degrees. He opened his mouth, trying to say anything, so many things to say, but unable to finish even a single sentence.

“W-what? How can you- No, no, I’m not. This is too sudden—”

Suo’s expression softened.  “I do not expect an answer now,” He said sincerely, but there's no hiding in his wounded expression.

“Take the time all you need.” He leaned in and kissed the backs of Nirei’s hands softly. Nirei screamed in his heart, with so much love bared like that, Nirei may as well accept him right here and then.

“Still, answer me soon because I do not like to wait.” Suo stood and bowed once, ready to leave.

“Wait, your tea…” Nirei cursed at himself, now that there's many questions in his head, why is it the thing that was coming out of his mouth?

Suo blinked once and stared at the young man. He hid his snicker with his hand as he shook his head. “No need. Think of it as a courting gift? I’m so glad it matches your taste.” 

The way Suo smiled made Nirei's heart ache. It was so soft that it made Nirei's heart flutter despite his nervous system going all over the place.

“Oh… okay. Thank you.”

“Hmmm. I will return someday.” 

Suo stepped out of the house. Nirei clenched his teeth, before Suo left his eyesight, Nirei reached for his hand. Suo blushed as he looked back over his shoulder.

“This is unfair. You, who told you're the only one who was allowed to fall in love quietly and proposed right away?”

“Uh, I’m just…” Suo flinched back as he saw the gleam in Nirei's yellow irises.

“You’re storing all those feelings with yourself and only said it after months? Do you even care about how I feel?”

Suo bit his lips. “It's not what I mean. I never ever thought about neglecting your feelings like that!”

Nirei took Suo's face in his hands. He rubbed it softly, feeling how cold and soft it was. Suo blushed slightly as the shorter one put their face closer.

“You know me all this time while I didn't even know you exist until you knocked on my door. What I mean is I also want a chance to get to know you better, to see what kind of person you are and maybe…”

Nirei brushed the short bangs of Suo’s burgundy hair into the back of his hair. The affection only made the taller man ducked down to hide his blush.

“...I could try to fall in love with you.”

Suo grabbed both of Nirei's hands. He clenched it hard, trying to repress his urge to kiss him right now. He let out a shuddered breath.

“Alright. Alright, well. Do you have a plan for this Sunday?”

Nirei smiled softly at how the other man was now a blushing mess. He nodded and hummed for a moment, “Let's hang out in my house, I will make you another wagashi for your tea.”

Endo Yamato

That’s exactly why you don’t go outside alone at night.

Nirei would have agreed with the proverb if his hands weren’t still stained with ink from the day’s ledger work. He had been closing the doctor’s accounts long after dusk, and finally finished counting the losses because of the great fire along with the plan after the restoration.

He was on the way back home when an enormous being blocked the gate to his communal housing. The man who built like a mountain leaned against the wooden wall. His raven hair was long, covering his eyes and a lot of tattoos in all shapes covered from his arm to his chest. Even without drawing a sword, his presence made the villagers walk away from crossing paths with him.

He was now standing right in front of Nirei. He shoved a palm flat against the wall right beside Nirei’s face suddenly. The whole house seemed like it trembled by the force.

“Well, aren’t you the famous little cook.” His voice was rough, like gravel soaked in sake. He reeked of booze, the smell heavy and sour.

Nirei’s heart skipped a beat, tight and panicked. He never thought he'd deal with a drunk loser on his way, but eh, such is his life now. Hadn't he successfully dealt with those many types of strangers. What another drunk man could have, anyway.

“You working late?” the man slurred, swaggering closer. He hiccupped, grabbed Nirei's chin with his two fingers. If he used his whole hand, he would probably crush Nirei's whole face and isn't that a terrifying thought. Nirei laughed at his bad luck.

“Bring me in. Feed me something.”

Nirei stiffened, clutching his bags. “Restaurany closed. We do not accept drunk men in our place.”

The man lurched forward, arms bracing against the threshold, caging the smaller man between his arms. “Awh, c’mon, don’t be so daft. You will feed me. Aren't you scared of who I am?”

Nirei rolled his eyes, “I don't even know your name.”

The man stared at Nirei from behind his long bangs. He laughed eerily and puffed his chest, “Oh, little sheep. How innocent you are! Haven't you heard of Endo Yamato, the mountain brawler?”

Nirei thought for a moment, remembering some few days ago when he heard the customers gossip about an insane samurai roaming around Nihonbashi. They even said it's a powerful ghost who died during the great fire and seek resentment toward the perpetrator of the fire.

“The greatest samurai of this age! Cracked a bandit’s skull at nineteen, broke a man’s ribs with one hand. My name carries fear all across town!!”

Nirei blinked at him once. Then twice. His stomach twisted, not with fear, but with irritation and so much urge to throw up.

“What greatest samurai of age?” His voice was sharp, stopping the drunkard’s bragging.

“All I can see is a loser who stinks of booze, barely able to stand. You come swaggering into me, demanding food like some starving dog. Heh, how pitiful can you be?” Nirei spat the words before he could stop himself. 

The silence that followed was thick. Nirei gulped hard, that's it. His life will end right this hour and right this place. He was already whispering a farewell to his family in his mind.

Then Endo snorted a rough, ugly sound. He burst out laughing, wild and loud to the point that Nirei had to cover both of his ears.

“Hah! You!” Endo wheezed, slapping his knee so hard he nearly toppled. “You’ve got a tongue like a blade, boy! Callin’ me stuff and that… Ha! You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that!”

His laughter broke off in a cough. His face flushed deep red. He swayed and leaned onto Nirei's shoulder. He gulped and suddenly he vomited onto the ground.

Nirei's eyes widened, “You! It's so gross, get away from me!!”

The sharp stench of sake and half-digested food filled the air. Endo staggered, his knees giving up on him. 

“Damn it…” Endo slurred, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His grin was gone. His eyes watered with tears.

Nirei stood frozen, staring at the mess, then at the giant of a man who only moments ago was bragging like a prideful tyrant. Now he looked as pitiful as a kicked dog.

“…Why are you crying?!” Nirei screamed as he heard his sobbing started to get louder. Nirei shook his head right and left, noticing that people started to stare at them. Oh no, he didn't want people to get the wrong idea.

“I ain’t—” Endo’s voice cracked. He hunched forward, pressing his fists to his eyes like a boy. His shoulders shook. “Damn sake’s gone bitter. My stomach’s tearing me apart. Can’t… can’t even stand…”

Nirei sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Of course, how lucky he was that night. He expected a warm and peaceful rest but he has to deal with this drunken mess who can't even stand on his own.

Still… Nirei couldn’t just leave him there. He sighed to himself and then helped the man to stand up properly.

“…Hold still.” Nirei crouched carefully at his side, wrinkling his nose at the stench. He slipped an arm under Endo’s shoulder.

Endo blinked at him through watery eyes, “You’re helpin’ me?”

“Don’t misunderstand,” Nirei muttered, dragging him toward his house with a heavy breath. “I’m only doing this so you won't be a hazard to society. Now walk faster, do you think I can drag your ass if you passed out?”

Endo let out a wet laugh that turned into a cough. He slumped heavily against Nirei, which made the smaller man groan in annoyance. 

“Ugh, why are you such a problem? Don't you have your own home? Friend? Wife? If yes, then poor your wife and friends to have a loser like you.”

Endo stopped walking for a moment. Nirei already planned to scold him but noticing the tears running down from Endo’s face, Nirei exclaimed.

“Why are you crying again?!”

“You don't have to insult me like that…”

Nirei rolled his eyes under his lashes, already tired from the whole situation. He really wanted to just leave the man on the street but he's so pitiful, Nirei didn't have the heart to kick the poor puppy.

When they finally reached Nirei's house, Endo flopped onto the floor rather than the chair. He slumped against the wall. He already took out his hakama and cleaned his mess with a basket of water and a rag that was thrown on his face.

“Here, eat them all. You should sober up if you eat this” Nirei said in a much kinder tone.

It was a bowl of Chazuke. A tea-poured rice with a sprinkle of seaweed. Endo ate them slowly. He calmed down after tasting the warm and sweet dish.

Normally, Nirei never demanded payment for his food. But for a man who throwed up in someone's shoulder, he’d have to made an exception. 

“Don’t forget to pay me four times the dish. For the clothes, the ride to my house, a place to rest, and the chazuke itself.” Nirei said dryly as he set the bowl down.

Endo grinned like a Cheshire cat, “Take the money on my sleeve.”

Nirei furrowed his brow, “Aren't you afraid of thieves?”

“If I lose a coin then pah! I can crush you and I’d hardly feel it.” Endo smirked ridiculously. “Go on, try me.”

Nirei cursed under his breath and dug for Endo's pocket, only to be yanked down suddenly as Endo’s heavy hand hooked around his waist and pulled him into his lap. Nirei found himself cradled like a child, heat and rough fabric pressing against his chest.

“Mmm.” Endo’s chin rested on Nirei’s shoulder. He breathed in, unexpectedly gentle. 

“H-hey, let me go!” Nirei squirmed under his arms.

“Why do you smell so good? It smells like the kitchen at my mother’s village.” His laughter was a rumble. Endo slurred and rested his head on Nirei's shoulder.

“Can you pass out already?” Nirei tried to pinch Endo’s cheek but the man refused to move.

Endo let out a soft, petulant sound and tightened his hold like a child insisting on a hug. 

“No. I like this. I like you. You still treat me with kindness despite how rude I was. No one ever dared to do this to me.” His slurred words were suddenly earnest. 

Nirei’s protest dissolved into a helpless sigh. It was almost ridiculous that this mountain of a man, tattooed and feared, humbling himself into sleep on his lap. He ruffled Endo's hair while whispering, "If you want more people to treat you gently then stop being an ass.”

He waited for a moment, waiting for the oversized man to let him go. It seemed like it wasn't the case since Endo rubbed his head cozily into his neck.

“Fine, You can sleep but don't kill me tomorrow, okay?” he murmured to the sleeping figure. Endo’s only reply was a sleepy, contented grunt.

Sugishita Kyotaro

Nirei thought he had seen everything from wealthy men running from home to the oddest anomalies of town life, but nothing prepared him for the figure standing at his door now.

A shadow loomed across the entrance, blocking the sun completely. Only when Nirei looked up did he finally see the face.

It was enormous. The man had to duck his head just to fit through the frame. Twin horns curved proudly from his forehead, and long hair tumbled down to his shoulders.

Nirei’s jaw dropped. His blood ran cold. “Y-you’re… you’re…”

The towering guest bowed awkwardly. His voice, to Nirei’s shock, was surprisingly gentle. “I am Sugishita. I heard humans make a dish called nikujaga. But no one will sell it to me.”

Nirei stared. “Of course they won’t. If you stomp into a restaurant looking like that, every owner in town would faint.”

Sugishita winced, ducking his head lower. “…Am I really that scary?”

There was no denying it. His horns scraped the ceiling beam, his body large enough to reach the second floor. Whenever he opened his mouth, a sharp little fang peeked through.

Still, when Nirei looked closer, his eyes were more like a puppy’s than a predator’s.

Nirei sighed. “Sit down. I’ll make it for you.”

The youkai, Nirei was sure of it smiled in relief. A pair of small fangs showed, and he blushed sheepishly as he tried to squeeze into the house. When he finally settled on the tatami, his head still brushed the roof. Sugishita waited patiently. After what felt like twenty minutes, Nirei set the steaming bowl of nikujaga on the table.

“Here. I used the biggest bowl I own. You should have no trouble with it.” Nirei placed down a water-carrying basket he normally used for the well.

In Sugishita’s huge hands, it looked no larger than an ordinary bowl. His face lit up. He ate with such delight that Nirei felt his own lips twitch upward in spite of himself.

“Well?” Nirei asked, sitting across from him.

Sugishita nodded eagerly, cheeks warming red. “So good! Is this what humans eat every day?”

Nirei laughed at the innocent question. “Not exactly. You’re lucky it’s potato season. You get to eat them a lot right now.”

The way the youkai’s horned head bobbed with joy after every bite was almost endearing. He even thanked Nirei when he finished, finishing the dish in no time.

On a mischievous impulse, Nirei leaned on the table. “In the human world, after you finish eating, you have to pay for the food with money.”

Sugishita froze. Slowly, he fumbled in his robe and produced a handful of crumpled leaves.

Nirei choked, covering his mouth as laughter threatened to spill out. “S-sorry, baby,” he managed between breaths. 

“That’s not… no, never mind. You don’t need to pay. Just come back if you want to try more human food, alright?”

The youkai’s ears turned red. “But I’d feel bad eating for free.” He looked down at the leaves he’d gathered from the mountains, confused as to why they weren’t good enough. To him, they looked close enough to human money.

Nirei’s parental instincts kicked in at the sight of the forlorn expression. He smiled softly. “How about this, you can pay me with leaves I actually need.”

Sugishita brightened instantly, determination sparking in his eyes. “Tell me what you need! I’ll bring them for you!”

“Great. How about mugwort leaves? At the medicine shop where I work, we need a lot of them. Could you find some for me?”

Sugishita nodded so hard his horns almost scraped the wall. “There are plenty in the mountains! If I bring them, will you make nikujaga again?”

Something in his earnestness softened Nirei’s chest. The giant youkai was truly adorable. “Alright. I’ll make it if you bring back the mugwort.”

“Okay!!” Sugishita boomed, his voice shaking the walls.

The next morning, when Nirei stepped outside to tend his herbs, his sleepy eyes fell on something strange at the door. Blinking, he rubbed his face, and then saw a massive basket, overflowing with freshly gathered mugwort.

Nirei covered his face with both hands, laughing helplessly. “I didn’t mean this much…”

He glanced around, but the two-meter-tall youkai was nowhere to be seen. Not even a shadow.

With a sigh, Nirei dragged the heavy basket inside, planning to sell the mugwort at the medicine shop and with the earnings, he would buy enough potatoes and meat to feed Sugishita the next time he visit.