Chapter 16: The Pantry

"Room Three is paid until the end of the month," Hanae said.

The dining room did not breathe.

"I am the Hero," said Kaito.

"You are a guest who hasn't paid yet."

"Hanae." The voice came from the stairs, dry and mild. "It is a room."

Jiro stood on the bottom step in his indigo coat, with the sling off and his wrapped sword in his right hand.

He had carried it down from upstairs, and he walked straight to the rack by the door and laid it among the umbrellas.

He did not look at Kaito.

"I will clear my things," Jiro said to her. "It will take one minute. I have very few."

"You don't have to."

"I know." Something moved at the edge of his mouth. "I have a key."

A soldier by the window choked on his tea.

Kaito's color went from red to white and back to red.

Hanae wanted to throw the pot of rice at his head.

Jiro's hand closed gently around her wrist, the way it had on the ladder.

"Not yet," he said under his breath.

"He's taking your room."

"He is taking a room. Let him have the window. I will have the better thing."

She looked up at him.

His eyes were perfectly calm, and a little amused, and entirely hers.

She let the pot go.

That night Kaito slept in Room Three with the Dawn Blade on the floor beside the futon.

Hanae slept in her own narrow bed under the kitchen stairs, with a thirty-four year old swordsman folded into it.

At four in the morning she gave up on sleep.

The bread had to be in the oven by five, and forty soldiers ate like locusts.

She crept out in her nightgown with her braid tied up in a cloth.

She lit the kitchen lamp and turned a mountain of dough out onto the big table.

She was elbow deep in it when the pantry door creaked.

"You are supposed to be asleep," she said without turning.

"I woke up and you were gone."

"I'm kneading."

"I see that."

He stood behind her.

He did not touch her at first.

He only stood there, close enough that she could feel the heat of him through her thin nightgown, and watched her hands.

She pushed the heel of her palm into the dough and folded it, and pushed again.

"They are very good hands," Jiro said, near her ear.