True to her word, Surreal came into the Koneko alone the next day. She slipped through the morning crowd to stand unobtrusively near the counter, at a distance from the register line and safely out of the way. Satisfied that none of the fan girls would be bumping into her, she studied the chaos with amusement.
Nearly half an hour later, the last of the girls reluctantly left for school. The shop seemed almost eerily silent in the absence of their chatter.
Of course, the stillness didn’t last long.
“So,” Yohji drawled, “I hear you managed to order our resident Ice Prince around yesterday.”
A shadow seemed to pass over Surreal’s face before she shook her head, laughing. “I didn’t order him to do anything; I merely suggested that he should get some rest and not aggravate the injury further. It was his own common sense that made him follow that suggestion.”
Yohji snorted, trading an amused look with Ken. “That’d be the first time Aya ever showed common sense when injured.”
Surreal looked puzzled. “He gets hurt often? I didn’t realize the florist business was that dangerous.”
Ken’s eyes widened, and he shot Yohji a panicked look. The older man simply kept smiling and smoothly explained that Aya practiced kendo for a hobby, and sometimes the training duels could get out of hand. When it looked like Surreal’s curiosity had settled, he heaved a mental sigh of relief, and berated himself for making the slip in the first place.
“What brings you here today?” he asked, eager to change the subject before he said something else to raise her suspicions. “I usually have to wait longer before you feel we are worthy of another visit.”
Surreal gave Ken a reproachful look. “You didn’t tell him I would stop by?” When he shook his head, her eyes widened and her lower lip trembled. “How could you let the poor man believe that he would need to suffer through days without my presence to light his life?” At the two men’s incredulous expressions, she broke out laughing, holding on to the counter for support. “You should’ve… seen your… faces!” she managed to get out. “I could have charged money for that!”
Ken cracked up first, Yohji holding onto his injured pride at being the butt of the joke for a moment longer before joining in.
“I suppose I invited that one,” Yohji said when they’d all calmed down. He favored Surreal with a smile filled with mirth and nothing else. “But you’re certainly tough on my ego.”
Surreal smirked. “I have every confidence that you’ll find some brainless twit to soothe your pain tonight. Just think of me as a reality check. You wouldn’t want to get so self-centered that your looks weren’t enough to make people overlook it, right?”
Ken laughed again as Yohji tried to explain that no flaws of character could outweigh the good ol’ Kudoh charm. It was always a kick to see a woman put Yohji in his place.
After a few more minutes, Surreal put an end to their banter. “Where might I find my favorite redhead? It was him I came to see, you know.” The last was added with a mock glare at Yohji.
“He’ll be up in his room,” Ken replied before Yohji could open his mouth. “Do you want me to go get him for you?”
She met his eyes, searching for something more than the spoken words. “If he’s awake and willing to see me, I’d appreciate it if he could come down to the kitchen. If he’s asleep, I’ll just drop by again later.”
Ken nodded and disappeared into the back, leaving the two alone in the shop.
“Why are you here so early?” Yohji asked curiously. “You usually come by in the afternoons.”
Surreal shrugged. “I have work to do today, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to slip away again before you close up. It was better to risk he wasn’t awake than that I’d be too late to ask about him at all.” She flashed him a smile. “Besides, even if he’s asleep, I wouldn’t call the trip wasted. Good conversation is so hard to find these days.”
Yohji grinned at her before putting on a look of surprise. “You work? I never would have guessed!”
“I do some freelance information gathering.” If Surreal noticed him tensing, she gave no sign. “You know the kind; corrupt politicians, celebrities cheating on their spouses, whatever tickles the public’s interest.”
“You’re a reporter?” Yohji didn’t allow his relief to color his tone.
“No, I just find and sell information.” She smiled again. “If I did pictures, I could have made a fortune off of you four.”
“Then it’s a good thing you don’t,” a deep voice interjected.
Surreal stepped to the side so Yohji didn’t block her sight of Aya. Giving him a critical once-over, she nodded in approval. “You’re looking better,” she said. “I guess blondie here didn’t drag company home yesterday, if you managed to get that much rest.”
Yohji protested loudly at the notion that he would ever be so inconsiderate as to disturb his flatmates, Ken laughed heartily; but it was the light twinkle in Aya’s eyes that made Surreal grin triumphantly.
“Would you let me have a look at your wound again?” she asked, tugging lightly at her shoulder bag. “I don’t have any miracle cures, but there’s a tonic I want you to drink, and a salve for the wound. Please?”
Aya was all set to refuse when the hopeful tone of that last word broke his resolve. He nodded and preceded Surreal into the kitchen, mentally cursing himself for the weakness he displayed around the woman. That he’d allowed himself to feel some sympathy for Sakura was understandable; the girl had been hurt and looked so much like his sister. But Surreal was nothing like Aya-chan, so why did she affect him?
Finding himself sitting on a kitchen chair, with Surreal once again unwinding his bandage, Aya decided that he did not appreciate being fussed over. He was grateful that he’d worn a short-sleeved shirt that day, though.
“Don’t worry so much, sugar,” the woman chided in a much too familiar tone. “I bet if you got rid of all this tension you’re dragging around, you’d heal twice as fast.” She looked up from her task long enough to smile at him. “You’re wasting a lot of energy.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t be so tense if I didn’t have you hovering like a mother hen,” Aya snapped. He had a fleeting moment of gratitude that they were alone in the kitchen; it wouldn’t do to let the others know he was that easy to provoke. He suppressed a shudder at the thought of Yohji annoying him into talking. Daily.
Surreal ignored the comment and opened her bag, picking up one small jar and a bottle of green liquid. She got a cup from the plate rack and filled it halfway with the liquid. Aya reluctantly took the cup, sniffing it suspiciously. There was a faint smell of herbs, but none that he recognized.
Chuckling, Surreal absentmindedly hooked her hair behind her ears before reaching for the jar of salve. “There’s really no need for that. It doesn’t taste bad, and it’ll help you heal.”
Aya didn’t quite manage to keep his expression under control, but she wasn’t looking at him. Wide-eyed, he stared at her ear. It was pointed, the tip so delicately curved that it couldn’t be some kind of add-on. When she turned to face him again, a quick glance confirmed that the other ear was just as strange.
Surreal frowned at him. “Are you going to drink that or not?”
Aya swallowed nervously, half expecting the liquid to be either vile or lethal. To his surprise, it tasted pleasant enough; reminiscent of the green teas he usually drank.
Surreal grinned. “Told you it wasn’t bad, didn’t I?”
Aya nodded reluctantly. “The tonic is of your own making?”
“Yes. My partner had some interest in healing, and we collected books on the subject. After we moved to Tokyo, I took to studying as well. It’s a small indulgence of sentimentality, I suppose.”
“I don’t think you’ve told us where you’re from,” Aya prodded.
Surreal’s face closed, the expression very similar to Aya’s. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t go back.”
Respecting her privacy, Aya made a noncommittal sound and allowed the silence to settle around them. Surreal carefully applied salve and bandaged the wound. Re-zipping her bag, she gave him instructions concerning his further treatment, an order not to overwork himself in the shop, and a few pointed suggestions that he find a less dangerous hobby. Like origami.
“Origami?” Aya repeated. He was suddenly very curious how the others had explained his injury.
“Why not?” Surreal bit back. “Then the worst injury you could possibly get would be paper cuts. Much more manageable, don’t you think?”
He shrugged. “I doubt I’d enjoy it.”
“You never know until you’ve tried, sugar.” Surreal winked at him, her good mood apparently restored. “If you can arrange flowers, folding paper should be easy.”
Aya rose to lead the way back into the shop. “I’m not in the habit of doing things because they’re easy,” he said, stopping by the worktable. He crossed his arms over his chest, giving her the disdainful look that always sent all but the most oblivious fangirls running.
Surreal met his eyes, her own full of regrets and sorrow. “No, I suppose you’re not. But please, don’t do things just because they’re difficult.”
Turning away, she gave Yohji and Ken a halfhearted smile before slipping out the door.
The three men stared after her for a moment, Ken being the first to recover.
“What did you talk about?” he demanded. “She came here because she was worried about you, and now she seemed more depressed.”
Aya regarded him coolly. “We discussed origami,” he said. Picking up an order from the small pile on the table, he started selecting flowers from the arrangement, tuning out his teammates.