The motorcar rolled to a stop just as another arrived. The doors opened almost at the same time. His mother stepped out quickly, her breath slightly hurried as she gathered her skirts lightly in her hands.
"I'm so sorry," she said at once. "I shouldn't have left you alone. I didn't expect the paperwork to take so long. I truly apologize."
Reina blinked.
She was not used to adults apologizing to her.
"I'm sorry," the woman repeated more gently. "You must have been frightened."
Something inside Reina shifted.
Softly. Strangely.
"It's alright," she said quietly.
The woman's expression eased with relief.
"Did you wait long?"
Reina hesitated.
Then she answered, "I had fun with Hiro."
Silence followed. Hiro's gaze shifted toward her, slow and unreadable.
He did not speak. But he knew. He had seen her trembling.
Seen her hiding.
Seen her panic.
She had not had fun and yet she said it anyway for his mother's sake. Something in his chest tightened briefly before settling again into stillness. He turned away.
"To the servants," he said calmly, "bring the packages to her room."
"Yes, young master."
Reina bowed faintly.
"Thank you."
He gave no response.
That night, the house grew quiet. Footsteps faded down the halls. Doors closed one by one. Lanterns dimmed until only a soft glow remained.
Reina stood alone in the kitchen.
The ingredients had already been prepared and arranged neatly across the counter.
Rice.
Fish.
Pickled vegetables.
Soup broth.
Herbs.
She reached out and touched the edge of a bowl lightly. He had come for her.
When she was frightened.
When she was shaking.
When she was hiding.
No one had ever done that before.
Her fingers curled slightly.
"I should thank him," she murmured softly.
And so she began to cook. By the time she finished, the dishes were complete. A full kaiseki meal rested on the tray, each plate arranged with careful balance. The colors were gentle, the portions precise, and every detail placed with quiet intention. She lifted the tray and carried it herself. Step by step carefully. She stopped outside his office door and knocked softly.
"...Hiro?"
From inside, his voice answered,
"Come in."
She slid the door open. He sat at a low table, papers spread before him. His attention remained on his work as she entered. He did not immediately look up. Reina stepped forward and carefully set the tray down.
Only then did his gaze shift.
It moved from the documents to the food and finally to her.
"...Is there a special occasion?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"Did Mother send this?"
Another small shake.
"I made it." Reina answered.
A brief silence followed.
His expression did not change.
"...Why?"
Reina lowered her gaze.
"I'm grateful."
Another pause.
"For earlier today."
Understanding flickered faintly in his eyes before disappearing just as quickly. He leaned back slightly.
"...Leave it in the dining hall," he said. "I will eat when I am finished."
His tone was calm.
Neutral.
Unreadable.
Reina bowed.
"Yes."
She did not question him. She lifted the tray again and carried it back out.
The dining hall was dimly lit when she returned. She placed the tray carefully at the center of the table, adjusting each dish so it remained perfectly arranged. Then she stepped away. Without another word, she returned to her room.
Time passed quietly. The house grew deeper in silence. The night stretched on. Hours slipped by unnoticed.
It was nearly midnight when Hiro finally finished his work. He stepped out of his office, the faint sound of paper settling behind him. The hallway was empty, lit only by soft lantern light.
He paused briefly.
Then walked toward the kitchen for water. As he passed the dining hall, his steps slowed. The tray was still there.
Untouched.
He stopped.
For a moment, he simply looked at it.
Then he stepped closer. Slowly, he reached down and lifted the lid. Inside, the dishes remained exactly as they had been placed.
Neat.
Careful.
Intentional.
His gaze lingered. He hesitated. Then, after a moment, he sat down. He picked up the chopsticks.
Took a bite.
Chewed.
Paused.
Then took another.
And another.
Upstairs, Reina stood quietly in the shadows of the second-floor corridor.
She had woken without knowing why.
Drawn by something she could not name. Carefully, she stepped toward the railing and looked down.
She saw him.
Sitting alone.
Eating.
Her food.
She did not move.
Did not speak.
She simply watched.
A small warmth stirred faintly inside her chest.
Soft.
Unfamiliar.
Gentle.
Because he was eating it.
Because he had chosen to.
Because something she made had been accepted. She did not understand the feeling. But she held onto it carefully.
Later, when he finished, Hiro set the chopsticks down quietly. For a moment, he remained seated. Then he turned. His gaze lifted and stopped.
He saw Reina standing at the top of the stairs.
Still.
Silent.
Watching.
The moment stretched.
Her breath caught. Then, startled, she stepped back quickly.
"I-I will clean it," she said, her voice hurried.
She descended the stairs, her steps careful but rushed. When she reached the table, she bowed slightly and began gathering the dishes at once.
"I will take care of this," she added softly.
Her movements were quick now, guilty. As if she had been caught doing something she should not have. She carried the tray into the kitchen.
Water began to run.
The soft sound filled the quiet house.
Hiro remained where he was. Then, after a moment, he stepped closer.
Not enough to startle her.
Just enough to see.
Reina stood at the sink, sleeves slightly damp at the edges as she washed each dish carefully. Her movements were precise.
Practiced.
But her head tilted slightly to the side.
Then a little more as if she were trying to see something clearly. But not directly. Hiro watched.
The motion repeated.
Each time she rinsed a dish, she angled her face away, letting her hair fall forward while still trying to look.
Avoiding.
But needing to see.
His gaze narrowed slightly.
"...You'll strain your neck like that," he said.
Reina froze.
The dish in her hand stilled.
"...I'm fine," she replied softly.
But her head did not lift. Hiro's voice remained calm. Unchanged.
"You don't need to do that."
A pause.
She did not respond.
He continued, just as evenly, "I saw you earlier."
Her fingers tightened slightly around the bowl.
"When you looked up."
Another pause.
"Your eyes were clear."
The words were simple.
Matter-of-fact.
Not softened.
Not emphasized.
Just said.
"...There's nothing wrong with them."
Reina's breath caught. Her hands trembled faintly under the running water. Something in her chest fluttered.
Light.
Unsteady.
Warm.
She did not understand the feeling.
But she could not ignore it.
"...I understand," she whispered.
Her voice was softer now.
Still quiet.
Still careful.
But different.
She adjusted her posture slightly-
just slightly-
though her hair still fell forward.
Hiro watched for a moment longer then turned away as though nothing had happened at all.
But the words remained.
And for Reina they stayed.
After washing the dishes Reina returned to her room in silence. The house was still. The night deep. Before her sat the small mirror she had turned toward the wall when she first arrived. She looked at it for a long moment. Then slowly reached out and touched its wooden back.
Her fingers rested there.
Still.
Quiet.
She did not turn it.
Not yet.
But she did not push it away either.
For the first time she allowed it to remain within reach.