Chapter 2. The First Date

CHAPTER 2

The First Date

“Miss Miyo, may I come in?”

“Yes, please.”

Miyo opened the sliding door to her room for Yurie, who brought her a wooden box.

“Here is the sewing kit you requested.”

“Thank you.”

The box was beautifully made and expensive-looking. Miyo hesitated, unsure whether she was really allowed to use it. She openly asked Yurie, and the older woman shook with mirth.

“Of course you can. But if you’d prefer a brand-new one, please let me know.”

“No, no, this is perfect.”

She had no right to be choosy, since she’d arrived with practically nothing. A woman from a good house was expected to have her own sewing kit, but since she’d always used the servants’ threads and needles, she hadn’t considered that. Miyo felt so pitiful to have been sent away from home with no more than the clothes on her back.

She took the box from Yurie and remembered she had a burning question.

“Yurie, um…”

“Yes?”

“Was… Was Mr. Kudou angry with me this morning?”

“Angry? The young master?”

“Was he?”

Miyo must have made him so uncomfortable, bursting into tears out of the blue. She hung her head in sadness and embarrassment. When pretty women like her stepmother cried, men were only too glad to console them with an embrace. But that wouldn’t happen with Miyo. Her crying face must have been too hideous to even glance at. Although she thought it would have been in Kiyoka’s best interest to just throw her out already, she felt terribly bad over having made such a scene. She prepared for the worst when she posed the question, but the older lady opened her eyes wide in surprise.

“No, why would he be?”

“Because I… I…”

Miyo had grown up with her family constantly insisting that her very presence was unbearable. If she’d cried, they would rebuke her for making an ugly face, for being an embarrassment. Eventually, the tears she’d shed in response would flow only at night in her sleep.

Each morning, she brought nothing but displeasure to Kiyoka. Maybe she shouldn’t wait for his rejection and just run away already to spare him any more unpleasant situations.

“Miss, there’s nothing wrong with crying,” Yurie said to her gently. “It’s better than bottling up your emotions.”

“Really?”

“Yes. So when you feel like crying, let the tears flow. It’s not something that would make the young master angry.”

Could that be true? If Yurie said so, it must be, but it posed a dilemma for Miyo. She couldn’t easily change her behavior, and if she did allow herself to believe in people’s kindness, it would make being sent away that much harder. And although she’d been too scared of her father to bring this up when he’d told her about the marriage offer, Kiyoka would certainly reject her once he found out she lacked the Gift, Spirit-Sight included. She had to be realistic. Her new life here was only temporary, so she had to be on guard against any warmth that might thaw her frozen heart.

“I’ll be going back to the kitchen. Don’t hesitate to ask if there’s anything else you need.”

“Oh… Will you be making lunch? I can help.”

“No, please don’t worry about it. I’ll call you when the food’s ready.”

Unwilling to hear any objections, Yurie left Miyo to her sewing.

But my needs can wait…

She was becoming a mere leech who couldn’t contribute anything herself. Dejected as she was, she couldn’t waste the precious free time Yurie had given her. She laid out the torn kimono and threaded a needle. Concentrating on her needlework, she didn’t notice that the door wasn’t entirely closed and that someone was looking in on her.

It was the evening of her tenth day at Kiyoka’s home.

“How did you spend the day? I can’t imagine household chores take up all your time,” Kiyoka asked her suddenly over dinner.

Miyo had finally grown accustomed to the household. Although she and Kiyoka didn’t talk very much, she no longer felt anxious about sharing meals with him twice a day. It might have seemed insignificant, but eating together with a man of such high status took great courage on Miyo’s part. It was a considerable obstacle for her to overcome.

When he was out during the day, she passed the time peacefully. The house was small, so she finished the cleaning and laundry before noon at the latest. Food merchants who swung by the house alleviated the need to go grocery shopping, so her afternoons were free. Yurie headed home early in the evening, leaving Miyo alone.

“I, um… I read magazines Yurie let me borrow.”

That wasn’t the whole truth. She also spent time on needlework, but she didn’t want him to ask about it. Had she told him about repairing her old kimonos, he might have thought she was pushing him to buy her new clothes.

It was important to Miyo that Kiyoka and Yurie didn’t think badly of her. While she didn’t want to lie to them, she did what she could to conceal the truth about her family and her life before she’d arrived at this house. That was her inner conflict.

What did Kiyoka make of her downcast look? He merely nodded
with an “Okay” before going quiet until it was almost time to clear the trays.

“I was thinking of going somewhere on my day off.”

“I see.”

Miyo didn’t know why he was telling her that, but she politely showed she was paying attention.

“You haven’t left the house since you arrived.”

“That’s true.”

“…Would you like to go out to town?”

What…?
She hadn’t been expecting this question and didn’t know how to answer off the cuff. Her family had refused to send her to a finishing school, so she’d hardly ever left the mansion after completing elementary school. While she’d missed the bustle of the city and the freedom to go out at first, now she wouldn’t know what to do with herself there, what with no money to spend. Sad as it was, she’d found she’d outgrown her excitement for the city during the trip from her family estate to Kiyoka’s home.

“I… I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t have any errands in the city, and I couldn’t possibly trouble you to take me with you…”

Kiyoka sighed.

“It would be no trouble, and you don’t need a reason to go out. I’d like you to keep me company.”

“Won’t I be in the way?”

“Not in the slightest. You can dress in that kimono you wore on your first day here. Do you have any other concerns?”

She couldn’t think of a reason to refuse him now.

“No…”

“Well, it’s settled, then. Thank you for the meal.”

He got up, his expression blank or perhaps a bit strained, and carried his tray to the kitchen.

I probably annoyed him again.

He’d been generous enough to invite her to go out with him, yet
she’d gone and made the conversation awkward. Miyo hung her head. As much as she hated herself for being so inarticulate, she couldn’t remember how to have a normal conversation. She’d been perfectly capable of it as a little girl.

Well, it seems we’ll be going out together.

Miyo would have to start preparing for the outing to ensure she wouldn’t bring him shame or make him uncomfortable. She finished her dinner with a mix of anxiety, worry, and anticipation.

Miyo gazed at a cherry tree. It was a warm spring day, and the single cherry tree in the inner courtyard of the Saimori mansion was resplendent with pale-pink blossoms.

It was yet another dream, but not one of the nightmares that had been tormenting her night after night. She could tell because this tree had been cut down a long time ago. It was planted when her mother, Sumi Usuba, had married Shinichi Saimori, and it withered a year after her death. Since this scene was from the days when Miyo’s family still treated her normally, however, this dream wasn’t a bad one. But this time there was yet another difference from her usual visions—in her nightmares, she would relive her own memories, but she couldn’t have remembered viewing this cherry tree in bloom. It had died when she was only three or four years old, so that much was obvious.

In her dream, she was staring absentmindedly at the tree when suddenly she noticed someone standing beside it. She knew who it was immediately.

Mother…

She had beautiful, long, shiny black hair and was dressed in a pale-pink kimono. Miyo had been told that this was her mother’s favorite, and she had treasured this memento of her until her stepmother had snatched it from her.

Sumi looked incredibly delicate, as if she might fade away at any moment. Her kimono matched the color of the cherry blossoms so perfectly that it made her look like a cherry tree sprite.

Miyo had only hazy, indistinct memories of her mother, but she was sure this was her. The woman standing before her was almost the same age as Miyo now, so it felt strange to call her “Mother.”

“—”

Sumi’s well-shaped lips moved. She was looking at Miyo, trying to tell her something, but Miyo was too far to hear her words.

“What…?”

“—”

Try as she might, she wasn’t getting any closer to her mother, so she was still unable to hear her.

“Mother…”

“—”

“What are you trying to tell me?”

Sumi seemed to be repeating something with urgency, but none of it reached Miyo’s ears. The next moment, a sudden gust of wind sent a flurry of cherry blossom petals into the air, causing Miyo to shut her eyes as her hair flailed against her face.

“No, Shinichi, please wait!”

The desperate cry she vaguely recalled must have belonged to her mother. She couldn’t explain it. Nevertheless, she realized that this scene had actually happened in the past.

“You’re wrong about her!”

“What am I wrong about, Sumi?”

This time, it was her father’s voice she heard.

“Miyo is… She is…”

“She is without the Gift. That’s a fact.”

Her father was shouting resentfully that Miyo had never demonstrated an ability to sense Grotesqueries, not even once. Miyo knew from hearsay that children with Spirit-Sight sensed supernatural creatures as early as in infancy. At first, they would catch only an odd glimpse of them now and again; sometimes they wouldn’t see anything at all. By the age of five, their Spirit-Sight would develop fully, allowing them to consistently spot Grotesqueries. That was when their skills were finally acknowledged.

However, sometimes a baby’s budding awareness of the supernatural
would peter out, and they’d never develop Spirit-Sight. That could happen, since small children were naturally more sensitive to the otherworldly. As follows, if they were completely blind to the Grotesqueries when they were very young, it was a strong sign they were Giftless. The few exceptions to this rule were exceedingly rare. Most parents would give up hope at that point and assume their child just didn’t have special abilities.

If what Miyo was seeing in this dream had really transpired, that meant her father had first turned his back on her while her mother was still alive.

“Please don’t reject your daughter.”

“If she were born to a family of commoners, she’d be loved. But to the Saimori house, she is just a disgrace,” her father said coldly.

Miyo had been told of her father’s kindness toward her when she was little, but now she understood it hadn’t been out of love. His tenderness was simply because she’d been a baby. Naturally, he’d felt bitter dejection when the child of the woman he’d been forced to marry in spite of his love for another hadn’t fulfilled the familial expectation of inheriting the Gift.

She heard her father walking away. Her mother, whom he’d presumably left behind, spoke quietly in a trembling voice.

“I’m sorry, Miyo. Forgive me for being such a good-for-nothing mother.”

Miyo wanted to apologize to her. It was her fault, after all, for having no talents, for bringing nothing but misery.

“But don’t worry, my sweet girl. In just a few years’ time, you will—”

Huh?
The voice in her head suddenly cut off. In her dream, Miyo opened her eyes. The cherry tree was still there as before, but her mother was nowhere to be found. What would happen in a few years’ time? What was her mother trying to tell her? Was she still hoping Miyo would develop Spirit-Sight later on? Miyo left the exquisite dreamworld with questions she could not answer.

The open sliding door let in bright morning light and a pleasant breeze. Miyo sat in front of the mirror, combing her hair with more care than
usual. Maybe there wasn’t much point to it, on account of the cheap comb missing a few teeth already, but she hoped that taking more time with it would bring better results. After going through her hair for twice as long as she typically did, she noticed that her hair had indeed acquired a glossy sheen.

Mother was so beautiful…
In her dream, she’d had lovely hair, straight and shining.
I wonder if my hair could look like that, too, if I took better care of it…
She examined a strand held between her fingers and sighed. It didn’t seem likely.

Her hair was damaged, and the gaudy kimono she’d arrived in didn’t suit her. The more she looked in the mirror at the mismatch between herself and her outfit, the more despondent she became about going out with Kiyoka.

“Miss Miyo, may I enter?”

“Yes, come in.”

Yurie entered the room, strangely cheerful.

“My, how pretty you look.”

“You’re too kind.”

“Would you like to put on some makeup?”

Miyo froze. Makeup? Kiyoka would probably expect her to wear it, of course, but she didn’t own any.

“I, um… I’m not very good at it…”

“Then I’ll gladly help you with that.”

“B-but I… I don’t have any makeup.”

Miyo shot Yurie a nervous glance but saw that the old lady’s grin had only widened.

“Not to worry. Look, I brought you a makeup kit.”

It was only then that Miyo noticed that Yurie was holding what seemed like a vanity box.
She must have noticed I don’t have much of my own.
In a cottage with a tiny number of occupants, you couldn’t hide anything for long. Thinking that Kiyoka, too, might already know this made her so embarrassed, she wanted to disappear.

“Could you please look this way?”

While Miyo was lost in her anxious ruminations, Yurie energetically
got the various makeup items ready. First, she lightly powdered Miyo’s face, then contoured her eyebrows, and lastly chose a subtle shade of red lipstick.

“There, all done.”

Just as she said that, they heard another voice from behind the door.

“I’d like to leave soon.”

“Y-yes, coming! Yurie, thank you so much.”

“It was my pleasure. I hope you enjoy your outing.”

Miyo rushed out of her room without checking her makeup in the mirror. Kiyoka was waiting in the corridor, dressed in a navy-blue kimono with an undyed haori coat over it.

“I’m so sor…um, I mean, thank you for waiting for me.”

“I only just got here. Sorry for rushing you. Shall we be off?”

“Yes.”

This would be her first time out with Kiyoka. She braced herself and followed after him.

“S-so, um…where will we be going today?”

She was already in the car with him, heading toward the city, when she realized he hadn’t told her where he wanted to take her.

“Ah, that’s right—I forgot to tell you. First, we need to stop by my workplace.”

“P-pardon…?!”

His workplace?!

Was he taking her to the headquarters of the Imperial Army? She’d never seen it herself, but from what she knew about it, it was an enormous base with all kinds of military facilities, imposing and heavily guarded. Since she hadn’t mentally prepared herself to visit, her hands started trembling from anxiety.

“Don’t look at me like that. We’re not going to the army base.”

He smiled wryly. Even though he was concentrating on the road, he’d sensed her terror.

“But…isn’t that where you work?”

“Not all military personnel work out of the main base. It’s a bit far off, but there are many smaller stations throughout the city. The
Special Anti-Grotesquerie Unit is quite different from the other armed forces in many ways, so we have our station in the city, not on the base. It’s a small place—there’s no need to be so tense.”

Even Miyo, with her lack of formal education, had heard about the Special Anti-Grotesquerie Unit and knew it was a force composed of officers with Spirit-Sight or other supernatural powers. Those people were difficult to come by, and consequently, the unit was rather small. Their station wouldn’t be overwhelming, either. She let out a sigh of relief.

“Besides, we’re just going there so I can park the car. We won’t be staying, so you probably won’t even run into any of my subordinates.”

“I see.”

Cars had only been recently introduced to this country. While they could cover long distances in a short amount of time, the lack of parking spaces was their downside. You couldn’t park just anywhere you liked in the capital.

Miyo and Kiyoka chatted away until their first stop came into view. The guard at the entrance let them through without questions when Kiyoka stuck his head out the window. As the commander, he didn’t have to show any proof of identification.

It looks like a schoolhouse.

The building that served as the Special Anti-Grotesquerie Unit’s headquarters had Western architectural influence. Both its size and shape resembled the elementary school Miyo had attended, and it blended in very well with the capital’s cityscape. The training grounds, too, reminded Miyo of her school, except that it was uniformed soldiers instead of children who were exercising outdoors.

“All right, let’s go.”

After Kiyoka parked the car on the grounds, he and Miyo started heading back toward the main gate.

“Huh, is that the commander?” came a voice from behind them.

Kiyoka was none too pleased to see the young officer.

“Godou.”

“I thought you were off duty today?”

“I am, yes. I just came here to park my car.”

“That explains it.”

Godou gave the impression of being carefree and maybe even a bit shallow. As he relaxed his shoulders, a smile brightened his soft features. Then he glanced at Miyo, who startled and took half a step back.

“And who’s that? Who’re you?”

“She’s with me. That’s all you need to know.”

Kiyoka cut him off unceremoniously, but Godou must have been used to it, because he just shrugged, unperturbed.

“Fine, I’ll drop it. Don’t forget to come in to work tomorrow, Commander.”

“As if I would ever do that. You ought to return to your post, Godou. I’m sure you have something better to do.”

“Will do, will do. I’ll leave you to it, sir. Later.”

Miyo wasn’t sure about the proper etiquette but gave him a small nod as he was leaving.

“That was my aide, Godou. Believe it or not, he’s a capable Gift-user.”

“Oh…”

“Not that he’s too keen on work,” Kiyoka added with a stern face, clearly annoyed by his subordinate’s frivolous attitude.

They didn’t meet anyone else on the way to the gate. The car had previously shielded them from the city’s hustle and bustle that now engulfed the pair once they were on the street. There, a jarring mix of Japanese and Western aesthetics vied fiercely for space. Beneath tall, modern buildings, the buzzing streets swelled with people. To her own surprise, Miyo felt exhilarated by this unique city atmosphere she hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

“Is there anywhere you’d like to go?”

“Huh?”

It hadn’t crossed her mind that she would have a choice, so she drew a blank.

“Any stores you’d like to visit?”

“N-no, not really. I’m fine.”

She’d assumed she would just be keeping him company. Besides,
she’d gone so long without the luxury of wanting anything that she couldn’t come up with something on a whim. Kiyoka’s expression softened at her nonplussed reaction before he let out a little chuckle. The otherworldly beauty of his smile had her instantly entranced.

“In that case, will you accompany me on my errands?”

“Yes, gladly.”

It was late spring, with summer just around the corner. The sunny but mild weather was ideal for a walk. It had been so long since everything had felt fresh to Miyo, and she was taking it all in with eyes wide open. The people in their colorful outfits, the streetcars passing them by, the specialty stores, and the curious-looking buildings. Kiyoka kept glancing back at her over his shoulder, seemingly in a good mood.

“Are you enjoying the city?”

“Huh? Oh, I’m so sorry…”

She was appalled when he pointed out how openly the sights mesmerized her. It was him she should have been paying attention to.
Just like a country bumpkin… The shame! I can’t look him in the eye…
She’d been living in this city her whole life yet was acting like she’d just arrived. Her behavior must have embarrassed him.

“You needn’t be. Enjoy the sights to your heart’s content. I’m not going to tell you off for that, nor will anyone else.”

“But…”

How could he really mean it? Walking around with a woman like her, he was probably eyed with incredulousness and ridicule. When she dropped her head in self-doubt, she felt his large hand on her head.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m the one who invited you, after all.”

“…”

“Right?”

“Yes…”

His touch, his expression, and his tone were very gentle, but somehow they also conveyed absolute authority. Miyo nodded.

“Just make sure not to fall behind and get lost,” Kiyoka warned.

“I’ll be careful.”

“Good.”

He’d been walking very slowly, she realized, and had adjusted his pace for her sake. Unaccustomed to such kindness, she felt tears welling up in her eyes. Why did people call him merciless and cruel? He was so caring. If only she was a good match for him—then she’d want to stay with him forever. But, of course, she was worthless. Feelings of self-loathing began to creep into her heart.

“And here we are.”

They’d stopped at a large kimono store. Judging from the style of its signboard and the facade, it had a long history and sold luxury clothing. They went inside. The venue was lined with tatami-mat flooring. Stunning long-sleeve kimonos were displayed on clothing racks, while the shelves held bales of fabric in bright colors, perhaps for summer.

It was Miyo’s first time in a kimono vendor, and she was awestruck.

“It’s so big…”

“Suzushima’s has been my family’s go-to kimono store for generations. I hear they even make kimonos for the emperor.”

“Th-that’s incredible…,” she mumbled artlessly, overwhelmed.

Then she suddenly became self-conscious of what she was wearing, which made her even more hopelessly ill at ease. Although she wasn’t dressed particularly poorly, here in this high-class store, she stuck out like a sore thumb. Most obvious was the color of her kimono, which clashed with its pattern. Her father had probably selected it at random. While it wasn’t a cheap rag, it wasn’t what you’d call a quality kimono, either.

“Welcome, Mr. Kudou.”

“A pleasure as always.”

An elegant older woman—presumably the shop owner—greeted Kiyoka with a polite bow. Despite her modest air, she was undeniably stylish and vibrant at the same time.

“Sir, I hope you don’t mind me getting right down to business. I’ve selected a few items for your consideration based on what you requested. If you would please come this way.”

“Very well.”

So he was buying a new kimono. She wasn’t sure if she was expected to follow him, so she stayed put. A shop clerk noticed and came over, smiling.

“Miss, please allow me to show you around.”

“Th-thank you… I’ll take a quick look while I wait for you, Mr. Kudou,” Miyo said weakly.

“Take your time. If anything catches your eye, let me know, and we’ll buy it before we leave,” Kiyoka replied before disappearing into the back of the store.

I could never be so presumptuous…

Everything in this store looked terribly expensive, and she couldn’t imagine pestering Kiyoka to get her anything like that. To be more specific, she wouldn’t be able to bring herself to ask him for any gift, no matter the price. Acutely aware that she didn’t belong here, she sighed but nonetheless allowed the clerk to show her the shop’s wares to pass the time.

In the Japanese-style room at the back of the store, Kiyoka stood facing Suzushima’s owner, Keiko. Between them lay beautiful women’s long-sleeve kimonos, covering every inch of available space.

“Tee-hee-hee. I see the time has come for you to buy a lady’s kimono, Mr. Kudou.”

Kiyoka had known Keiko since he was a boy. Whenever he needed a new kimono, he’d have it tailor-made for him at her store. She’d become something of an acquaintance of his and had come to know many things about him, including not only that he was a stubborn bachelor but also that he hadn’t even really had a lover.

“Don’t read too deeply into it…”

“Please, there’s no need to be so shy. I’m so very glad you’ve finally brought a lady to my store.”

It was true that he’d never bought a kimono for a woman before, but he’d been compelled to do this for Miyo after Yurie had reported her findings to him.

“Miyo was mending her old kimonos the other day…”

When Yurie had brought Miyo the sewing kit, she hadn’t been expecting that the girl had needed to stitch up torn old kimonos. Although she’d tried to convince her there was no need for mending, after noticing Miyo’s embarrassment about the state of her wardrobe, she’d allowed her to carry on.

Miyo’s attire had also puzzled Kiyoka. The kimonos she wore from day to day were so old, you’d think she was the daughter of an impoverished farmer. They differed in color or pattern, but they were all similarly worn out, and he’d felt sorry to see her dressed in them. Eventually, he’d decided to bring her to the kimono store, even though he’d never felt like buying his previous marriage candidates gifts when they’d pestered him about it. But that didn’t mean Miyo was special to him, of course.

“Do you have anything you think would suit her?”

Keiko laughed abruptly at how obviously he was trying to change the topic.

“Heh-heh, I believe so. Delicate colors like this, or these here, would complement her quite well.”

Kiyoka nodded, agreeing with Keiko’s recommendation. Subtle colors matched the season as well. Sky blue, spring green, or perhaps light purple would be good, too. Even with her honest advice, Kiyoka had trouble making up his mind until he happened to glance up at a kimono Keiko hadn’t yet pointed out to him.

“How about that one?” he asked.

“That’s a very good choice, too, but I’m afraid that by the time we could get it ready for your lady, the color would be out of season.”

It was a long-sleeve kimono in an arresting pale pink. Yet, somehow the delicate colors also had an eye-catching vibrance.
Would Miyo look good in this?
He tried to picture her wearing it…but quickly banished the image from his mind, abashed.
What on earth am I doing?
There was no special meaning to this. None at all.

Miyo would have been disgusted if she knew he was picturing her in his mind like this. How shameful of him to let his thoughts wander in that direction. A man of his age ought to have better self-control.

“I’d like you to tailor this one for her.”

“Oh, are you set on this one, then?”

He handed Keiko the pale-pink kimono.

“Yes. Even if you can’t finish it by the time spring ends, she can wear it again next year. Could you also make her a few kimonos from these fabrics? The price doesn’t matter.”

“Of course, sir.”

Kiyoka chose several different colors from among the fabrics Keiko recommended.

“She’ll also need sashes and other accessories in matching patterns. Can I leave that to you?”

“Absolutely. Oh, and by the way…” Keiko clapped her hands and fetched a palm-size box that had been set aside. “You wanted to take this with you today, sir?”

He lifted the lid to check the contents. Finding the item inside exactly as requested, Kiyoka nodded.

“Yes, thank you. Please add this to the kimonos, and I’ll settle the amount due all together.”

“Very well. One more thing, Mr. Kudou…”

“What is it?”

He carefully tucked the box away inside his kimono before looking back at Keiko. She opened her eyes wide and met his with an intense gaze.

“You must hold on to that girl!”

“Excuse me?”

“She is what you call a diamond in the rough. Her hair, skin, face, and all her features have the potential to shine with a little polish! With some more care and attention, she can blossom into a beauty on par with your handsome looks.”

Keiko had an eye for those things; it was her job to doll people up and make them look pretty by dressing them in beautiful clothes. Not that Kiyoka hadn’t noticed Miyo’s prettiness himself.

“Your purchases today are only the beginning. Don’t spare the girl your love and financial resources, and soon enough…”

“Yes?”

“…you will revel in the delight that only dressing up a beautiful girl can bring!”

She seemed to honestly believe so, too.

“Goodness, Keiko, I thought I made it clear that I’m not in love with the girl.”

He sighed at the store owner, who was around the same age as his mother and was getting so excited that her eyes sparkled like a happy little girl’s. Yet strangely, some part of him wanted to do exactly as Keiko had insisted.

“Thank you. That’s all for today.”

He chose not to dwell too deeply on it.

When he returned to the store floor where Miyo was waiting, he found her riveted over something. He followed her gaze to a pale-pink long-sleeve kimono, quite similar to the one he’d just chosen for her.

That look on her face…

There was longing and sadness in it, as if the kimono was something she wanted very much but knew she couldn’t have.

“Mother…”

She whispered so quietly, he barely caught it, unaware he’d come back and was standing right behind her. Confused, he waited a bit before speaking to her.

“You like this kimono?”

“Oh! I—I wasn’t… I wasn’t thinking of asking for it, nothing like that!”

“…”

“It’s just that it’s very similar to one I had been keeping as a memento of my mother… I no longer have it. It made me miss her.”

“I see.”

He wondered what had happened to that heirloom kimono, but more than anything, he was relieved she didn’t say that she didn’t like how it looked.

“Did you spot anything else you’d like?”

“N-no, nothing that I really need.”

Instead of asking for something, she would humbly conceal her needs
and wants. He hadn’t told her the purpose of this shopping trip that day because he’d assumed his act of generosity would mortify her, and her reaction now convinced him he’d been right.

“Shall we go, then?”

“Yes.”

“Please come again!”

Keiko and her store staff saw them off, bowing politely.

“Do you like it?”

“Y-yes. It’s deliciously sweet.”

After the kimono vendor, they stopped at a Japanese caf
é
for a snack. Kiyoka told Miyo to order anything she wanted regardless of the cost, but she couldn’t make up her mind about what to get or even about whether to get anything at all. In the end, she had to give up her reservations, unable to bear Kiyoka’s intense gaze, and went with the staff’s inexpensive suggestion of
anmitsu
, agar jelly with sweet red bean paste and fruit. Unfortunately, she was so anxious about sharing the table with Kiyoka, sitting closer to him than they did at his home, and about the curious looks the other customers were giving him that she could barely taste her dessert.

Everyone’s staring at us…

It’d been like this outside on the streets, too. Kiyoka naturally drew people’s attention without doing anything out of the ordinary.
Not that it’s a surprise.
He was a strikingly beautiful young man, with hair so phenomenally stunning that many women would be envious. His movements were graceful, spellbinding. Even from a distance, his enchanting presence turned heads.

That was why they constantly attracted stares, not to mention the jealous glares that Miyo endured from other girls. They must have been wondering why on earth this gorgeous man was with such a plain-looking girl. It was something straight out of a love story, like the one Miyo had recently read in one of the magazines she’d borrowed from Yurie. The onlookers’ jealousy was unfounded, though, so Miyo felt an
urge to explain herself and apologize to the other women.
I’m just keeping him company today—I swear I’m not his sweetheart. He’ll get rid of me soon, and then you’re free to try your luck.

These thoughts kept swirling in her head until Kiyoka’s good-humored expression made them fade away. It was strange to see him in such high spirits, since he seemed either emotionless or somewhat cross most of the time. She was finding this outing quite nerve-racking.

“You don’t look like you’re enjoying it.”

“N-no, I am…”

The red bean paste, rice flour dumplings, and agar jelly were rare treats for her. They were definitely delicious.
I’m sure they’re nice…

“…You really never smile.”

His offhand remark shocked her. She hadn’t considered until then that it must have been awfully unpleasant for him to be sitting with someone who didn’t smile at all or brighten up in appreciation of the dessert he was treating her to.

“I’m…so sorry.”

“Oh, I wasn’t reproaching you. I’ve just never seen you smile, and I’m curious to see what it looks like.”

Why would he care? She unconsciously tilted her head to the side.

“You are a strange man, Mr. Kudou.”

“…”

“Oh, I-I’m so sorry. That was disrespectful. I shouldn’t have said that. Please forgive me.”

She couldn’t believe she’d let something so rude slip out of her mouth. This little outing, filled with so many exciting sights, had made her forget her place for a moment, so she’d thoughtlessly spoken her mind. Kaya would have never committed such a faux pas. Although she was always mean to Miyo, she was clever enough to avoid saying something that might offend a person who mattered.

Miyo felt a mix of guilt and disappointment in herself.

“I’m not upset. You don’t need to recoil like that.”

“But what I said was—”

“The way things are currently going, we’ll soon be married. We should
be able to speak our mind with each other. I far prefer honesty to apologies.”

Miyo froze again.
We’ll soon be married…
He must not have known about her lack of supernatural abilities and education, about her unfitness to be his wife. Even if her inadequacies hadn’t yet become apparent, he was bound to discover them sooner or later, since she would be invited along to mingle with the social elite as his wife.

She gently set down the spoon. This day had been filled with wonderful gifts from Kiyoka. He’d taken her out for a lovely cup of tea, bought her a dessert, and showed her around the city. And though she counted her blessings, if she really cared about him, she ought to have told him now that the marriage would be impossible, that she was unworthy.
And yet…
A desire had started to take root in her heart. A yearning to live with him just a little longer and to support him in any way she could. That was why she didn’t say anything to him, despite the futility of her selfish wish.

Learning that he wanted to hear her thoughts rather than her apologies made her so, so very happy.
I’ll take any punishment you want to mete out to me, so…

She didn’t want it to end just yet.

“I… I understand. I’ll make sure to be open with you.”

“Good.”

When Miyo had first laid eyes on him, she wouldn’t have guessed that one day his soft smile would make her chest tighten like this. She wanted just a little more of this happiness, and then she swore she’d tell him the truth about herself.

Kiyoka hadn’t asked her why her expression suddenly clouded over. He hadn’t asked because he was certain he’d understand her before long.

He’d pretended he hadn’t noticed the change in her as he paid for their tea and desserts, and then they left the caf
é
. Afterward, they strolled a bit more, stopped by a bookstore, and went to a park where
azaleas were in full bloom. Miyo reacted to everything with fresh wonder, which made her fascinating to watch. In fact, Kiyoka was enjoying her company so much more than he expected. He even considered making a habit of spending his days off like this. By the time they’d gotten back to the car after dinner at a popular Western-style restaurant, the sun was setting.

“Thank you so much for today, Mr. Kudou,” Miyo told him when they got back, strained again.

He thought they’d broken the ice at least a bit that day, but it seemed Miyo wasn’t going to forgo her humble attitude toward him anytime soon.

“Thank you, too, and apologies for making you follow me around on my errands. Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Yes, very much so.”

“I’m glad to hear that. We’ll have to do this again.”

“…That would be lovely.”

Kiyoka thought of the little box he had concealed in his kimono, wondering if this was the right time to give it to her.
No, it can wait.
He’d rather not give it to her at that precise moment, or else she might feel as if he was pressuring her. It could wait until later in the evening. He’d leave it in front of her room while she was in the bath. Although she seemed reluctant to accept gifts, she couldn’t ignore something left by her door.

After placing the gift, he waited for her reaction in the living room, sipping tea. He heard her exit the bathroom and walk back to her room. Not long after, she came out in search of him.

“Mr. Kudou…wh-what is this?”

She was dressed in a
yukata
, her cheeks slightly flushed—whether it was from excitement or simply from having been in a hot bath, he couldn’t tell.

“It’s yours. Take it.”

“Were you the one…who left it for me?”

Miyo took the lid off and hesitantly peered inside the box. It held a comb made of boxwood and exquisitely decorated with flower carvings.
It was certainly a pricey item, but there was no denying that a quality comb made all the difference with hair. He’d simply had to purchase this for Miyo—out of purely practical concerns, of course.

“That’s a good question.”

There was one little problem with the gift—namely that offering a comb to a lady was customarily taken as a marriage proposal. It perhaps wasn’t the best of choices for a first present. Thus, he’d been unable to give it to her openly out of concern she would misconstrue his intentions.

“I couldn’t possibly accept such an expensive gift.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

“Just take it.”

“It
is
from you…isn’t it…?”

“…”

“Mr. Kudou?”

“D-don’t dwell too deeply on it. Do what you like with it.”

There was really no need for so many questions, he felt. Kiyoka furtively glanced at Miyo—and his eyes widened in surprise.

“Well… If you insist, I shall accept it. Thank you very much, Mr. Kudou.”

A delicate, bashful smile graced her lips. It was like a bud beginning to open, like an icebound landscape thawing in spring, pure and beautiful.

“I’ll treasure it.”

“Please do.”

His lips and his voice quivered. What was this strange feeling? Was it wonder? Excitement? Delight? Or all of that at once? There was a simpler word for it, though: love.

Several days later, Kiyoka was holed up in his office at the Special Anti-Grotesquerie Unit’s base well past his required hours. He was scrutinizing a report a trusted officer had delivered to him. A report on Miyo Saimori.

Kiyoka had contacted an informant and requested as detailed an account as possible on the Saimori household. The thorough investigation had taken some time. Neither the current nor former servants had been willing to talk.

“It’s a common story, really,” muttered the informant, scratching his cheek as the corners of his eyebrows lowered in an expression of pity.

After Miyo’s mother passed away, her father had married again. Since the new wife’s daughter had proved to be more talented, Miyo was cast aside and became victim to domestic abuse. Those situations unfortunately happened often, especially in Gifted families, where being born with or without the Gift defined a family member’s status. Many of those families were unscrupulous in their treatment of the Giftless, whom they considered failures.

According to the report, the Saimori family’s conduct toward Miyo had been particularly cruel. Kiyoka thought back to her reaction to the pale-pink kimono in the store, when she’d remarked that it resembled one of her mother’s, which she’d kept as a memento until losing it. How had she reacted when the only thing she’d had to remember her mother by had been snatched away from her? Her stepmother and half sister had abused her while her father had turned the other cheek, and the servants hadn’t extended a helping hand, either. Miyo had been all alone. That explained why she volunteered with the cooking, laundry, and cleaning at Kiyoka’s house. This daughter of the Saimori family hadn’t been raised as such. Instead, her family had regarded her as a lowly servant they could exploit as they pleased. They hadn’t even provided meals for her. That was why she’d become this unsmiling, famished-looking waif dressed in old, threadbare clothes. Her family had done that to her.

Kiyoka made a fist and crumpled the papers he was holding. He was both infuriated at the people who’d tormented the poor girl and overcome with remorse over the harsh words he’d spat at her on her first days at his house. Though he hadn’t known back then that she was different from the arrogant women he’d grown accustomed to, that was still no excuse.

But now I know everything.
Including the fact that Miyo didn’t have
the Gift. Not even Spirit-Sight. He wagered that she thought her chances of becoming his wife were hopeless because of that. She was so reserved with him because she was primed for rejection.

However, Kiyoka didn’t care whether his wife had supernatural abilities or was as normal as they came. In fact, the women he’d considered before hadn’t all been Gifted. Some had been daughters of well-to-do merchants or politicians.

His father, the former head of his family, fielded all of Kiyoka’s potential brides, and he wasn’t particular about finding his son someone who possessed the Gift. As for Kiyoka, he simply wanted someone who would want to stay by his side. He wanted someone who would genuinely enjoy living in his forest cottage as his wife, not simply relish his status or wealth. And Miyo would do that. He had no intention of letting go of her.

Something else in the report had also caught his attention. Miyo’s mother’s maiden name was Usuba.

Families with the Gift, like the Saimoris and the Kudous, had long served as the emperor’s retainers. Their powers were indispensable for combating the Grotesqueries, which were invisible to ordinary people. Since their special abilities were also extremely valuable in battles against humans, they’d always played a significant role in suppressing riots and keeping peace within the empire.

The Gift came in many different forms. It could be the power of telekinesis, conjuring fire, manipulating wind or water, teleporting, walking in midair, or seeing through obstacles, among numerous others. It was also not unusual for a Gifted person to have multiple powers.

The Usuba family’s Gift was in a category of its own, however, and was far more unusual and far more dangerous in the way it worked. Their powers enabled them to manipulate the minds of others. They could alter memories, invade dreams, read thoughts—and those were the least threatening of their talents. Among the more terrifying ones were the power to strip a person of their will and turn them into a puppet and the ability to drive a person to insanity with illusions.

Cognizant of the danger their Gift represented, the Usubas realized
it could even pose a threat to national security. For this reason, they led secretive existences, taking all measures necessary to avoid drawing attention to themselves. They lived according to restrictive rules unique to their line, guarded family secrets, and avoided intermarriage with other Gifted families so that their Gift would remain confined to their bloodline. Past emperors would even have them assassinated occasionally rather than risk their powers being used toward malicious ends.

With all this history in mind, it was bizarre that Sumi Usuba would have married into the Saimori family. Kiyoka had a bad feeling about the circumstances that led to the union. He let out a sigh.

Wedding Miyo would not be to his disadvantage. Far from that, it would be in his best interest. Yet, her mysterious family lineage perplexed him. Even with his influence, Kiyoka had been unable to find any way of locating or contacting the Usubas. His informants had turned up nothing.

“They really are elusive…”

He flipped through the pages of the report, many of his questions still without answers.

Kiyoka had been so preoccupied, he’d lost track of time. Only when the sun began to set did he get ready to leave for the day. He checked in with the night shift, then left the station. Come to think of it, he’d been leaving much earlier these days than he used to. In times past, it hadn’t been unusual for him to spend the night at his office, and he would rarely make it home while the sun was still above the horizon. Everything had changed with Miyo’s arrival. Seeing her at the entrance when he came home set his mind strangely at ease, and he liked to get off work in time for dinner with her.

I’m not acting like myself…

Since their outing in the city, his emotions were becoming ever more unmanageable. Apprehensively, he pondered if Keiko’s prediction at Suzushima’s was already becoming reality. It was all too easy for him to picture himself spoiling Miyo with gifts, forever chasing this warm feeling in his chest.

Until he’d met her, Kiyoka hadn’t had very good experiences with women. Even when he was only a young boy, many girls had aggressively pursued him, which had only put him off further. His mother had been an object of his ire throughout his entire life, what with her tempestuous temper and distasteful obsession with flaunting their wealth. As a university student, Kiyoka had given in to peer pressure and had tried dating a few girls, only to have ended up detesting women’s company even more. Ultimately, he’d found himself growing irritated at the wheedling voices of their family’s maids, along with the overbearing smell from the copious amounts of facial powder they applied.

Having matured since then, he no longer found shallow politeness as irksome, but he still preferred not to associate with women outside of longtime acquaintances like Yurie and Keiko. Although he’d tried to carefully avoid attracting female attention, that had proved next to impossible while he’d been living in his family mansion. His family employed many maids, so he’d had no respite from their amorous glances. That was why he moved to his small dwelling in the woods. If someone told him a few years earlier that he would be happily living together with a young woman there, he would have laughed at them for making such an insane suggestion.

Kiyoka smirked at this thought before he suddenly stopped in his tracks, detecting a threatening presence.

Something’s following me…

He sensed countless pairs of eyes boring into him. Despite the lack of audible footsteps or even breathing, something was definitely there. Whatever it was, it wasn’t human.

Who is this fool trying to spy on me?

A Gift-user must have sent this strange entity after him, but who would be so harebrained as to pull that trick on Kiyoka Kudou? Or perhaps they weren’t stupid, but rather so confident in their power that they didn’t fear the possibility of repercussions.

Kiyoka hadn’t left the base yet. No one else was around. The officers standing guard at the gate didn’t possess Spirit-Sight, and the base lacked a protective barrier, so nonhuman entities could easily slip in. Those
flaws were entirely deliberate—they turned the base into a trap where the Gifted could dispose of Grotesqueries outside the public eye.

“You went through all that trouble for nothing.”

Moving his fingertips slightly, Kiyoka dragged the creature out of the shadows. Numerous palm-size scraps of paper hovered in the air in a shape that was vaguely birdlike, vaguely human. He’d bound the creature with his power so that it was frozen to the spot. Unfortunately, it seemed whoever had dispatched it had used it as eyes only. The creature lacked the ability to speak, so Kiyoka wouldn’t be able to learn who’d sent it.

“Enough of this nonsense.”

As he turned away from it indifferently, it burst into inescapable blue flames before burning up into nothingness. Kiyoka was hailed as the best Gift-user of his generation, owing to his ability to activate multiple powers at once without any difficulty.

That was hardly worth my time.

Nevertheless, he wondered who was behind it and felt a fleeting sense of unease in the back of his mind. He got into his car and drove home.