"How much is an umbrella?"
"Five hundred ryo."
"Then I'll take one."
Hyuga Kiyonari pulled a 500-ryo bill from his wallet and handed it over. He had no mood to haggle with this profiteering swindler.
After paying, he grabbed an umbrella, turned around, and rushed into the rain. Only after running all the way to the park did he reach Hinata under the trees.
In truth, both of them were already soaked like drowned rats. Their clothes clung tight to their bodies, heavy with water streaming down. At that point, whether they used an umbrella or not hardly made any difference.
"I'll take you back."
"No!" Hinata grabbed his wrist hard. "I don't want to go back to the Hyuga clan. Right now I don't—don't want to hear anyone call me 'Young Lady.'"
She should have understood it long ago.
Uncle Hizashi was special. Neji was special. Kiyonari was special. They were exceptions among the branch family—living well—and that didn't mean all branch members lived well.
Kiyonari looked into her eyes and nodded. "Alright."
After a while, they stopped in front of a residence whose nameplate read: "Tsunade."
Before Tsunade left Konoha, she had given Kiyonari the key and told him to move in. But he'd thought living alone in such a big place would be too much trouble, so he'd kept his own small single-room unit.
Pfft!
Flames suddenly flared up with a crackling pop.
"Good thing the fireplace still works," Kiyonari said, dusting his hands off as he stood. "Hinata, sit here for a bit. I'll go heat some water."
"You have to come back quickly."
Hinata's gaze stayed glued to him, only reluctantly pulling away after he left the room.
Outside the room, Kiyonari pulled the door closed behind him. His eyes turned dark instantly.
Even though everything was moving along the script, seeing it play out nakedly in front of him still made bitterness rise in his chest.
This might be a script—but the people inside it weren't acting.
"Honestly… with how sentimental you are, how are you ever going to get things done?"
Kiyonari muttered a scolding at himself, steadied his mind, and headed toward the bathroom.
"The water heater is still working?"
There hadn't been a power outage—then it hit him: if electricity was still on, there might still be food in the kitchen.
So he went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Sure enough, it was running. Inside were plenty of usable ingredients—clearly supplies Shizune had bought.
It wasn't a huge amount, but the basics were there: a carton of eggs, a pack of meat floss, a big bag of seaweed, and a few sauces. When he opened the freezer, a whole chicken lay inside, frozen stiff and covered in white frost.
"Seaweed-and-meat-floss rice balls, an omelet roll, and fried chicken…" Kiyonari calculated silently. "That should barely be enough."
He started prepping ingredients—first thawing the chicken and steaming rice.
Unfortunately, Tsunade's kitchen clearly hadn't been designed with kids cooking in mind. Kiyonari had to drag over a stool to stand on before he could reach the faucet.
He poured the rinsed rice into the rice cooker, pressed the switch, and set it running. Then he tore open the meat floss package—the rich aroma instantly filled the air. He poked the floss at the bottom with chopsticks and sniffed. The smell was still full.
"Looks like it hasn't gone bad."
Then he took out the carton of eggs. To be safe, he grabbed a bowl first—planning to crack the egg into it and check before using it.
Crack.
He tapped the shell lightly and split it along the fissure.
The next second, a stench so foul it was hard to describe blasted into his nose. The egg in the bowl was a bizarre gray-green, speckled with black spots, reeking strongly of sulfur.
Kiyonari nearly flung the bowl away. Pinching his nose, he dumped the rotten egg into the trash and rinsed the bowl over and over with clean water.
"Good thing I didn't crack it straight into the pan…"
"Kiyonari-kun."
He turned at the voice. Hinata was standing in the kitchen doorway, her cheeks still flushed pink from the fire's warmth, but a thin mist had gathered in her pale eyes.
She was clearly angry.
"You promised you'd come back quickly!"
"I—I wanted to make something to eat before coming back—" But when he met the watery shine in Hinata's eyes, the explanation stuck in his throat.
"You're still wet!"
Hinata didn't let him argue. She grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of the kitchen with rare forcefulness, both in tone and action. She didn't release him until she had pushed him down in front of the fireplace—like she was guarding against a thief.
"Hinata—"
"Until your clothes are dry, you're not allowed to take a single step away from here!"
Kiyonari tried struggling once more. "But the rice is already cooking in the kitchen—"
"No!"
Hinata was like a different person. Her voice shot up sharply, carrying an unquestionable authority—almost exactly like Hyuga Hiashi's. Her breathing quickened, chest rising and falling.
She stared at him and said each word clearly: "That's an order!"
But—at the very instant she said it, she panicked first. A trace of flustered fear spilled into her eyes, and she instinctively looked at him.
Kiyonari was still shocked by her sudden change. He froze—and didn't catch the flash of panic in her gaze.
"Alright."
Hinata's clothes dried first. She stood. "I'll go check the kitchen. You stay here and wait for me to come back."
After she left, Kiyonari moved his legs to shake off the numbness and wandered around the living room.
He found a set of celadon tea ware and some herbal tea in a cabinet, then boiled water in the kettle. As the tea brewed, the herbal scent rose and mixed strangely well with the rainy smell outside, calming to breathe in.
He wasn't really a tea person, but this had to be better than what he had at home.
Standing by the window with a cup, Kiyonari took a silent sip and thought about Hinata's change.
He had a faint feeling the script he'd written might need rewriting again.
Only when the tea in his cup was gone did Hinata come in, carrying a plate.
"Um… Kiyonari-kun… do you want to try it?"
Her voice had returned to its usual gentle softness, as if the stern Hinata from earlier had never existed.
Kiyonari poured a cup of herbal tea and handed it to Hinata, then looked at her work. On the small plate were two seaweed-and-meat-floss rice balls smashed into lumpy clods, a limp omelet roll, and some mysterious object that was probably fried chicken cutlet.
It looked terrible—though, looking on the bright side, at least it was cooked.
Kiyonari sighed inwardly and picked up a piece of omelet roll with his chopsticks, putting it into his mouth.
Click. His teeth hit something hard.
There was eggshell inside the omelet. Of course. He should have known better—there was no reason to hold any hope for the cooking of a sheltered young lady who'd never touched kitchen work.
"Ah—sorry!"
Hinata clearly heard the crunch. Her face instantly turned red, and she lowered her head, staring at her toes.
"I… I really underestimated how hard cooking is. I thought if I watched the maids do it a few times, I could recreate it."
Kiyonari picked up a rice ball and chewed while imagining the scene: Hinata standing on a stool, fumbling with the fire, toasting seaweed, wrapping rice balls—just to make him a meal that could fill his stomach.
Once he thought of it that way, the awful taste felt… more bearable.
"Kiyonari, don't eat it—" Hinata's voice was full of apology.
Kiyonari silently swallowed the last charred cutlet on the plate, then asked, "Are you planning to go back tonight?"
Hinata shook her head lightly.
"Then let's go out to eat," Kiyonari stood. "Afterward we'll come back, clean up the kitchen, and tonight you can rest here at my teacher's place."
"Okay."
~~~
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