Aya lay on her futon, the shades down and a wet cloth over her eyes. Fragile rays of dusk peeked through the edges of the window. She felt more or less better, a dull ache behind her eyeballs being the only remnants of her feeling ill. Being sick was exhausting. Hopefully she would drift to sleep and wake up the next morning fully refreshed. The tengu sighed. What a day this had been.
The phone rang. Aya sat up with a groan, the wet cloth falling in her lap. She groggily knee-walked to the phone, already annoyed. Why is the office calling me? They know I'm sick. She lifted the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Aya? It's Koji.”
It took her a couple seconds to place the name. “Koji?”
“The guitarist? Remember? I'm sorry, am I interrupting anything?”
“No, I remember you. I'm not busy, no. I was just resting. I'm not feeling too well.”
“Oh, I'm sorry, do you want me to let you sleep?”
“I do need to sleep but … hang on, how did you get my number?”
Koji laughed nervously. “Um, well, you wrote it down for Hitomi last night.”
“Oh.” Aya vaguely recalled doing that, just before going to sleep on their couch.
“I do hope I'm not being too forward.”
“No, really, it's fine.” Aya cleared her throat. “Can I help you with something?”
“No, no. I just wanted to chat. But if you're feeling ill, maybe I should bring my special secret soup instead.”
“Your … what?”
“My special secret soup. It's a recipe generations old, fiercely guarded since ancient times, and made especially when someone is sick. But if you need to sleep, I'll understand. Maybe we can meet another time.”
Aya hadn't eaten all day, and had nothing in the fridge but half a withered apple. Despite her hunger, the idea of going out shopping at the moment exhausted her. And she'd never had a guest in this apartment.
“Actually, I am quite hungry.”
“Yeah? I don't want to impose. But it is really good soup. It can cure anything.”
“Is that right? Sounds powerful.”
“It is, but you wouldn't guess to taste it. That's where the power lies. It surprises you, like a wildcat in the night.”
“I don't think a wildcat could sneak up on me.”
“What would surprise you then?”
“A wildcat inside a grapefruit.”
“That would be pretty surprising.”
After she hung up, Aya rolled up the futon and put it away, changed out of her T-shirt and shorts into a black polo shirt and jeans, and straightened up the apartment a bit. Satisfied, her only concern was Yukari gapping in while Koji was over. That would be difficult to explain, and she shuddered to think how Yukari would handle such a situation.
Almost an hour went by before there was a knock at her door. Aya peered through the peephole and saw Koji, a cloth bag under his arm. Aya opened the door with a smile.
“Hello, Koji.”
“Hey, sorry it took me so long to-” Koji paused, frozen as he looked at Aya with obvious confusion. “Um, I had to make the soup first. It takes a little time.” He stepped inside, taking his shoes off. “And then I had trouble finding the address you gave me. I'm terrible with directions.”
“It's no problem,” Aya said. “Do you want some tea?”
“Yes, but let me make it, please,” Koji insisted. “You just relax. I'll take care of everything.”
“I won't argue with that,” Aya said, sitting at the table. Watching Koji heat the water and bring bowls and spoons to the table, taking the thermos of soup out of the bag and carefully pouring it into the bowls, it occurred to her that she'd never been served in this way before. She wondered what prompted this behavior.
“So then,” Koji said, sitting down at the table at last. “I hope you had fun last night. I know Hitomi did,” he chuckled. The soup looked and smelled to her like miso, with noodles and vegetables added. “I've never heard her talk so much. You really have a gift for making people open up.”
“It comes with the territory.” Aya smiled, taking a sip from her tea. She noticed Koji kept his eyes on her.
Koji broke his gaze with a light laugh. “Sorry for staring. I've just never seen eyes that color before. You probably get that a lot, though, eh?”
The contacts. She'd taken them out as soon as she came home, to try and relieve her headache a bit, but in the rush to straighten up the apartment, forgot to put them back in.
“Ah, really?” she said, her pulse quickening. “Are they that unusual?”
“Not in a bad way,” Koji emphasized. “I think they're quite beautiful. Usually girls get the oversized-iris contacts, or even – ugh – blue. I applaud your tastes. I'd never guess red contacts would work, but the color really suits you.”
“Haha. Thanks." Aya felt a small wave of relief. "Was just trying something new.” Aya looked down at her soup, and tried a spoonful. “Hm! This is really good, Koji. Just like you said.”
“Of course it is. I'm a very honest person.”
“That's good,” said Aya, trying not to eat her soup too quickly. “Say, Koji, can I ask you something?”
“Fire when ready.”
“You talked last night about rejecting society. How did you come to this conclusion?”
Koji took a sip of his tea before answering. “My father.”
“How so?”
“Well,” Koji began, lowering his tone a bit, “It's not that special a story. One you've probably heard before, even: father wants son to take over family business, son wants to be a musician, father disowns son. You know,” he shrugged, “Just a typical story in our society.”
“Really?” Aya frowned. “But that makes no sense.”
“It doesn't have to make sense. It's just how it is. And I decided I want no part of it.”
“I see.” Aya finished her soup. “Sorry for bringing it up. I didn't mean to bring down the mood of this lovely dinner.”
“Nah, it's alright. I'm glad you're interested in what makes me tick.”
“Of course I am. I'm always interested in what makes people tick.”
“And that's why you became a journalist.”
“One of the reasons, yes. I guess that's why I'm such a nosy person.”
Koji finished his tea. “A nosy friend is better than the alternative,” he smiled.
Koji offered to help clean up, but Aya was already quite tired, so she told him to leave it. As he chatted away about music, it seemed to Aya that Koji wanted to stay longer. But Aya had no patience for dropping polite hints; at last, she had to tell him that she was going to sleep. He apologized for his thoughtlessness, rising.
“I tend to forget people work for a living,” he said as he put on his shoes. “I guess if you go to sleep and wake up when you please long enough, you tend to take it for granted.”
Aya laughed a little. “It's quite alright. Most of my friends back home are the same.” Thinking about it, she added, “Actually, so am I, usually.”
“Well, try not to work too hard, eh? Leave room for fun.” He opened the door, and turned back to Aya.
“Good night, Koji. And thank you again for the soup. I feel better already.”
“Good night, Aya,” he said, pausing with a smile for a beat, before stepping into the hall, closing the door behind him.
Aya listened to his footsteps walking down the hall. The tengu sensed an undercurrent in Koji's look that she hoped she was wrong about. But it was a look she'd seen before, and she knew what it meant. Aya sighed as she gathered the bowls and cups from the table. Too exhausted to wash the dishes, Aya left them in the sink, rolled out the futon, and fell into a black, dreamless sleep.
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