Chapter Text
Chapter One
--X--
Mihoko may have outdone the crazy in her life, and it all started with her new tenant.
Dire was too hasty a word of how Mihoko felt as she straightened her fluffy sweater, as there was nothing that really out of place. Every nook, every spot of her dainty, clean home was fixed just to her liking. There were few things that one couldn't learn of her from the careful way her books were arranged on the shelf, and even the cozy fleece blanket tossed on the plush couch indicated an inclination for comfort.
Mihoko was surprised that someone else hadn’t jumped at the exclusive wreck of land near the Hokage’s building to build on before she did. Not that it mattered to her, but it had been the closest place to the publishing offices and press, and she could be a little nitpicky at who she worked with.
She had recently come into money when she took on rebuilding the site, and sort of overdid it on her dream place. It had been an old bookstore, and she loved it immediately despite the tattered remains and ruined brick exterior. It was far too big for just her (and her single life), so she knew that she’d probably need two renters on the second floor. Or one wealthy one.
Her visitor should be a welcome one.
But as she placed her flowered teacup on the drying rack, moving to the entrance of her abode, familiar butterflies seemed to jump in a fretful warning. With all her willpower she tempered them, convincing herself that she knew she was going to have company. After all, when one leases an apartment, it typically comes with a neighbor.
So today she just needed to face the first step in her journey of mobility and independence.
It didn't stop her from jumping as the loud knocks pierced her fortress, all coming from the thick old wood door that stood as a sentinel to her home.
So she shuffled over the aged wood floor, steps muffled by the woven carpet, and opened the first door nob. The entrance of the home had a staircase, leading to the top apartment she was trying to lease, as well as her apartment closed off by a door behind her. With a sigh of relief, she noted that through the glass at the front entrance was a somewhat familiar face.
The anxiety didn't entirely disappear at seeing the agent who she was expecting. The agent who had gotten in contact with her only an hour after she put up the listing that the apartment above her home was for rent. Mihoko couldn't help think it may be a scam, but finger gestures and smug faces of her all too social friends entered her mind.
"Uh, hello. Please come in." Mihoko said, immediately feeling quite stupid. The realtor was a neat woman, almost severe in both presence and looks, and Mihoko was all soft wrapped in a cashmere sweater and loose pants.
Like a swan (or just a person very experienced in stepping into other people's homes) the older woman passed through the updated porch, her hand sticking out as if to force her professionalism on her. It caught Mihoko's like some sort of licensed black hole, shaking it firmly, before letting go.
“I am madam Junari. And you are Okimasa-san.” She nodded, her hair settling above her shoulder like a soldier falling in line.
“Uh, yes, please, come in Junari-san.” The realtor nodded, clearly used to trapezing past fallen homeowners. She went up the hill to the foot of Mihoko's door, and the junction of the staircase. No corner was left unseen by the realtor. Mihoko could feel the sweat begin to form on her back. She was clean, but was it enough?
“How many tenants do you currently have?” The realtor asked, turning sharply. Mihoko jumped a bit, folding her arms into her middle.
“uh, I live... uh down here... alone,” She said, pointing to the first door, immediately regretting everything she had done in her life. She stumbled through the words, trying to just get her point across. Why were people so hard to talk to? “The top one is a dual residence, but I haven’t found tenants yet.”
She let out a small breath, hoping she didn't sound rude. The city center was ripe with people looking for housing, but her home was a bit... expensive. She hoped that the realtor understood that an easy way of saying two well-off people should be able to afford it. Preferably female.
The realtor made no show of emotion or even disapproval.
“Let’s go see it then.” She was clipped as if rushed. The careful way she touched the guardrail to the top apartment made it clear to Mihoko that her client was probably the taskmaster type, used to the highest quality.
Mihoko followed the realtor, opening the top unit when they reached the warm wood door at end of the staircase.
Thankfully, her poor nerves did receive some comfort around this point.
While Mihoko’s own home was cozy, most parts somewhat tidy, for her potential tenant she had enlisted her close friends and scrubbed the place top to bottom, polishing appliances and knobs, and checking every utility. The place was gleaming, sleek metal highlighting the new installment of additions, including security features, a furnished kitchen and living room as well as heating, cooling, and all the modern amenities. By all accounts, it should scream expensive. So when she opened the door, letting the Junari inside, it was sparkling.
Mihoko's confidence was short-lived as the woman stepped inside and began an almost ridiculous inspection. Every square inch, she continued asking borderline intrusive questions, strange ones, such as How do you feel about animals, and what’s a good night out for you consist of? Often these were questions about Mihoko herself, things she wasn't quite willing to share.
But Mihoko had practice in this area. Her answers were curt, courteous, and to the point. No, she didn't enjoy drinking or partying. No, she wasn’t hiding a secret boyfriend. Yes, she accepted direct transactions and checks, but no later than five days after the month begins.
"Why would a young woman such as yourself want to manage an apartment?" The realtor raised a brow, still unreadable. "Aren't most women your age looking for... more energetic ventures?" And for the first time, the older woman looked very uncomfortable. Mihoko went a bit red in the cheeks.
“Uh, no. It's not... uh... I need a quiet tenant or two, not a family, and absolutely no cats." The realtor looked surprised at the fierce tone Mihoko used to emphasize the point. "I'm, uh, allergic." A nod, but an unconvinced one.
"No pets? What about dogs?" Mihoko shrugged, not bearing any particular feeling towards them.
"As long as I don’t hear the barking, and they are cleaned up after, dogs are fine.” She shrugged, effectively sealing her fate.
“What about shinobi?” The realtor countered, too quick. Her bony hands clutching the clipboard she was using.
For some reason, the whole conversation was starting to feel weird, Mihoko thought.
“I’m looking for a quiet person who doesn’t feel the need to destroy the place.” The agent looked alarmed as if Mihoko had declared she hated babies, “As long as they don’t throw those knife things into the floor or punch the drywall it should be fine.”
“My client would do no such thing!” She asserted smartly as if Mihoko had been referring to her children. But Mihoko wouldn’t apologize for saying it, because ninja did tend to wreak their homes (everyone knew it!) She heard all about that from her friends.
“Of course not.” Mihoko disagreed, avoiding the argument. “I’m just looking for a mature adult.”
The realtor, for the first time, smiled, her shoulders relaxing a touch.
"I can understand that,"
A nitpicking hour later, and a tray of prudently staged cookies later, Mihoko still had no idea who her tenant was, just that they must be almost impossible to please.
“So it’s the entire top floor?” The older agent said sharply, taking a bite of the treat, “With that one entrance.” As if she was somehow lying.
“Yes.” Mihoko replied, repeating, “With the one entrance.”
“And does the main residence connect in any way?” Mihoko nodded but led her prospective tenant’s client to the gleaming duel door, opening it to reveal another door behind it.
“Just staircase. Both doors would have to be open, and as I live on the other side there should be no problem.”
She nodded, her sharp brown-gray hair not deviating from its tight bun.
“Good, it seems good. My client requires solitude and quiet. Difficult things to find near the town center. An old soul.” Mihoko nodded, like the home, she had bought and restored fit that profile. Sounded like an old woman was moving in. Which was good, because Mihoko liked old people.
Apparently, Junari knew a deal when she saw one, and as they descend she made up her mind. The realtor opened her checkbook, looking pleased with herself.
“I can tell he’ll approve. What’s the deposit?”
Mihoko paused, head tilting.
“Him?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?" Yes. Absolutely.
"Oh, uh, no," Mihoko said, unsure why she just blurted it out. "I mean-" The realtor cut her off.
"He’s a professional... photographer. I mean, Sukea is. He usually travels but needs a place to stay when he’s in town.”
"Sukea?" She said, the name slick on her tongue. No last name?
"Yes, he's a bit of a character, but he's good for the money. Go deposit that check." The realtor seemed very pleased, even giving a generous wink. "What was that number again?
Mihoko raised her eyebrow but gave a forced smile.
“Great, let me get my notes and I can tell you.”
---X---
“Cinnamon, licorice, peppermint...,” Mihoko muttered, writing in the small notebook next to the fresh lemonade, ignoring the rest of the bustling world outside the shop. The sun shone brilliantly through the wooden slats, the paper pulled out of her way, and the villagers passed through the thoroughfare. She tapped her pen.
A chair creaked next to her, causing her to flicker her eyes up. “Don’t bother me now Etsuko-chan, I almost have this one done.”
Where most people might take offense, Etsuko Tanaka would not. Surely she was one of the kindest people alive, if not for a streak of brutal honesty that made her interesting. Intensely awkward and loud, until someone knew her very well, she had adopted Mihoko the moment their eyes met in the romance section of the library.
Truly, some friendships were destined.
“Hey, Mih-chan. I heard the new Hokage is a big fan of The Masked Man .” Etsuko slid in next to her, leaning in with a wide grin. “Ironic, really. The Masked Man. Our dear masked Hokage is clearly a huge perv-”
“That’s nice.” Mihoko cut in, hoping that the middle-aged woman waiting tables didn't hear.
“You’re not even interested!” Etsuko pouted.
“No.” Mihoko smiled, causing her friend to groan. And Despite her words, she was actually in a good mood. She had deposited the landlord’s check and was now set to pay her mortgage for a good while. But she knew better than to feed that particular beast. Etsuko didn’t approve of strange men living near her friends.
”Don’t take it too hard. It’s better to keep a distance from fans. They can be crazy. Who knows what a Shinobi is capable of?”
“Ha, fine. How are the groundbreaking recipes coming?” Etsuko raised a brow at Mihoko’s notebook.
Mihoko grinned at the change in topic. Fine, she wasn’t getting anywhere with it today.
“This isn’t for the Daily Dish. I heard through the grapevine that Grandmother has demanded that those forgotten cousins contribute a bit more to the family and put up a search. She thinks she can match the Honi Family through sheer willpower. I feel I need to finish my recipe book before things hit the fan.”
“That’s bold.”
Mihoko raised her head, brows furrowed as she tapped her pen on the table.
”Yeah.” Oh, if only she had come from a normal family.
In a village famous for its ninja it would be easy to presume that all its inhabitants would possess some sort of secret skill or talent that would make them an asset. This isn’t true at all. Forgotten underneath the tiers of ninja who had acclaimed notoriety were numerous fellow citizens following less deadly careers. From bakers to bouquet makers there are numerous jobs to be filled, and among these nonmilitary folks was... Mihoko.
Like most of the common villagers, she wasn’t a ninja or doing anything that would be written into legend. She was a footnote in the story, the face behind a masked identity. With no desire to fight, a less inclination to even disagree with most people She blended into the backdrop of the Land of Fire. It allowed her to peacefully pursue her passion for writing achingly beautiful romances.
Which, in retrospect, probably wasn’t as peaceful a place as she wanted. But as most of her life was focused here there it was home.
She wrote. From articles to magazines to books, that's how she spent her days. She did go to a book club, and occasionally people recognized her name in the local newspaper. Oh, and once she caught one of the Three Legendary Sannin peeping in the bathhouse, but that happened enough not to be actual noteworthy news (And was a long time ago).
Truly and blessedly Unremarkable.
“Want to see that new movie? I heard it’s based on that allegedly true story of Madara Uchiha and Sayuriama Senju. The critics think it’s total bs but it has a huge following with teenage girls. Total fodder for your books.” Etsuko suggested, trying to break the depression forming around her friend. Family always got Mihoko down. Unfortunately, the idea of frolicking away the evening was also impossible.
“No, I’ve got three chapters to write for my current book tonight or my editor will kill me.” Mihoko shivered at the thought of her editor thinking she was slacking. “ I’ll be up all night. Besides, the new guy is moving into the top of the house and I need to be there to greet him.”
“Oh, I want to meet him too.”
She stood, her hair brushing down her shoulders as she collected her things and flipped her notebook shut. Etsuko stood as well, placing her hands on the chair thoughtfully.
“No, not today at least. Apparently, he’s a private individual.”
“Well, at least be careful. If you find time later, Kurenai Sarutobi invited me to go out for dinner.” Mihoko raised a brow, knowing the name of the shinobi and being impressed. Not that she actually wanted to go, as Shinobi disturbed calm and peace like a chicken at sunrise.
But she did feel a bit jealous.
“The one with the kid right. How did you swing that?” Mihoko asked curiously. Etsuko leaned in, grinned wildly.
“My brother, of course. Kenji that bastard.” Etsuko was a daycare worker but she had plenty of relatives here, including a brother that worked as a shinobi. He was pretty decent as well. “He said she approached him to invite us both.”
“Neat. I wonder if she likes Kenji-kun.”
“No way,” Etsuko stated firmly. “He’s too weird and she a beauty.”
“Hm. And a single mother.” Etsuko waved her off.
“They’re not going alone. Lots of familiar names. I hear even the new Hokage might show. You could come and meet some men and even your newest fanboy.” Etsuko winked, being cheeky despite knowing Mihoko wrote under a pseudonym.
“No,” Mihoko replied drily, moving to stand and follow Etsuko, likely on her way to an afternoon shift at the daycare. The only thing worse than being around a rough Shinobi was being ousted as the popular author of... eh hem, romance novels.
If that happened, her grandmother would find her. She'd be gutted for working for something as unrefined and common as a newspaper.
The women in her family didn’t work, they married into wealth.
This included three older sisters, several cousins, aunts, and a niece, who were all married to ministers of the Fire Daimyo, officials of the State, and wealthy men who could afford them. They were wealthy, lived in large houses, gossiped, and were generally miserable. This misery carried to their families and pretty much every aspect of their lives.
Mihoko didn’t really want that.
As she and Etsuko walked out, Konoha lay before them. Like a giant tangle of puzzles, the city was a colorful mix of traditional and new styles, the epicenter of progress. And it had grown substantially since the end of the Fourth Great Shinobi War. The people they passed were newcomers, many moving in. Exotic visitors were obvious by their dress and the familiar old residents kept to the sideroads, tossing up a hand as they crossed paths.
Etsuko jauntily led them down a longer route to extend their time together, and coincidently, past the large building that contained the Jonin Offices. Mihoko didn't point out this, just noted the lack of armed men. Etsuko visibly deflated at the sight, putting her hands into the oversized smock she was wearing.
“I’ll never get any attention at this rate.” She said dully, short black hair waving like feathers around her face. “I have to marry a Shinobi better than Kenji or he’ll always lord his skills over me.” Mihoko guffed at the line of thought, grinning at her funny friend.
“Your brother doesn’t want you to marry a shinobi, he’s just harassing you." Mihoko raised a brow, thoughtfully. "But didn’t that one dude ask you out? Toothpick shinobi dude.” Etsuko grumbled, patting her hair down in clear disagreement.
“Are you talking about Genma Shiranui ?” She was so exacting in his name that Mihoko knew it was the right one. “I’m not going to date someone my brother likes.” Mihoko found the explanation to be lacking. Obviously, something was going on.
“What did, uh, Gemna do?” Mihoko asked lightly.
“Nothing,” Etsuko said, far too quiet to not be suspicious. “I don't want a Shinobi I know. I want a sexy new guy.”
“To make him jealous?” Mihoko said, immediately regretting it. There was a pause as Etsuko almost stumbled, immediately getting a bit defensive, and flinging her arms up.
“Of course not.” She said sharply.
Mihoko sighed, smiling softly.
"Don't give me that pitying look. I know you think all relationships are doomed to misery, but I'm going to prove you wrong!" Etsuko declared.
Mihoko shrugged. "I don't think that."
“Yes, you do. What a lousy idea for someone who writes so much romance. Don’t you ever think it would be nice to have one of your mysterious sexy shinobi characters hold you in his arms and be all macho about you?” She visibly swooned, and Mihoko wondered if she should position herself just in case her friend tripped again. “You could marry my brother and save yourself the trouble.”
Mihoko shrunk at the thought. “No. I have my own backward thinking family, thankyouverymuch. ” She hadn’t met said brother, but Etsuko didn’t paint a nice picture of him anyway.
“They make pretty good money!” She whined, already mourning the loss of her friends as a potential sister-in-law.
“I earned my independence and don’t need a guy getting offended over that.” Mihoko sniffled rather haughtily.
“Fine fine, have it your way, you reclusive hermit.” Etsuko stuck her tongue out, making a face.
“I prefer to be called a wealthy, independent woman.” Mihoko drawled, immature enough to return the favor.
“Suck it, you language nerd.” Both laughed as Etsuko continued her teasing.
As they approached the daycare Etsuko suddenly groaned. “Well, give me an update. I’ll need something to cheer me up with the new ninja kid that was enrolled yesterday. From the look of it, he knows how to make paper bombs.” Mihoko let out a whistle, patting her back.
"Good luck!"
Etsuko groaned.
With a sharp hand wave, Mihoko left.
She kept up the pace to her own home, moving quickly up the street, down the corner, and crossing the park. Her home was on one of the most exclusive streets of Konoha. It was a reasonably large building, even boasting a modest front yard inside the fence (green of course). A deep navy door was firmly set in the center of the white-painted brick, glossy wooden beams making its curb appeal on par with the neighboring local: Wealthy, just-built homes, high-end apartments with a couple of expensive restaurants, and bakeries.
Yes, she loved it.
Stone pavers clicked beneath her kitten heels as she stepped over them to the small porch, opening the door ( The one she had salvaged from a local thrift shop and painted herself). The haven she had assembled was perfect, well constructed, well adjusted, just like one of her books. She opened the door, practically giddy at how well everything in her life was going. She looked up to the sky, feeling very blessed.
Nothing could derail her now!
A whoosh of air escaped her as she was met with the back of a thick green cotton coat, and she nearly lost her balance trying not to hit the man. She promptly took a step back, realizing she had almost walked straight into what must be her new tenant.
He turned around warily like he had been expecting her to run into him.
“Oh hello.” She remarked politely, even though he was the awkward one standing in the doorway. “Hi, you must be Sukea-san.”
He nodded, face drawn like he was a bit distressed. Which was a shame because Mihoko realized that her tenant was not quite what she had in mind. Not old and on the fat side, no not at all. She had expected someone much older and who she’d want to avoid. She made the mistake of assessing him, then looking in his eyes.
But Sukea was... around her age. Probably mid-thirties at most. He was a 'nice-looking guy', with ash brown ruffled hair and fair skin. Awkward for sure, standing there and gazing at her warily with large, gray-brown eyes. She tried not to pay attention to that voice in her head that was assessing him with a most artistic appreciation. It wasn't his fault his jawline was near impeccable, nor that his face shape was nearing the perfection of paintings. Or that his overlarge jacket and scarf didn't hide his tall, fit figure, and that his pants hardly concealed-
She coughed, breaking the staring contest. Nothing special, really. He even looked a bit silly, with painted purple stripes on his face. Perhaps he came from a clan. The realtor did ask questions about shinobi.
”Did you get the key?”He, shaking out of a sort of shock, finally turned and let her in. A bit closer gave her a better look, and she noticed a beauty dot next to his lips. She gave a small smile at the sight and he seemed to hold his breath until she moved further in.
“UH, um, Yes.” He finally said, and the way he said it was like he had been trying to decide which voice he should use. Deep at the beginning and gradually lightening
"Oh good." She kept smiling but was defiantly starting to get weird vibes off of him and the strange way he was acting. It defiantly dampened that sort of deep ache that awakened when she couldn't suppress her attraction. And it was probably too late to tell him to get lost. And she really didn't have a reason. As long as he paid rent and kept his creep six feet away from her. She cleared her throat, more for her sake, and stepped back to her own door to put space between them. Sukea looked up the stairs, then back at her.
“Do you have any questions?” She queried, her hand on the doorknob.
“No.” He said voice higher than it was previously, and more sure. He put a hand to his head, only to stop and put it back down. Did he not want to mess up his hair?
“Did you need help moving?” Mihoko said, cursing her kind nature and inability to weather an awkward silence. But she didn’t see any bags, but it was only polite to ask.
“No.”
Okay, that was enough small talk, right?
She did her best to fish out her key, stumbling a bit as she put it in the lock while not wanting to leave her back to him. Mihoko half walking in before realizing he was still there, staring at her.
“Um... are you okay?” She said, getting increasingly nervous, and reaching for the pepper spray in her pocket. As if realizing what he was doing, the man finally replied, as if coming to some decision.
“I hear you write.” He said putting his hands in his pockets casually, head now turned away.
Uh ho.
ho. oh.
Oh.
OH.
Could... he be... her fanboy?
She shifted to her foot closest to her door, surprised to hear him ask so directly. The polite thing would have been to start a conversation, but she had been told her tenant was a busy, private man who didn’t enjoy random conversations. Also, another thing bothered her. Just what was did she write that he liked. A nagging, troubling feeling filled her.
He couldn’t possibly know...
And then, from the corner of his pocket, she noticed a bright orange book.
ABORT MISSION.
Panicked, and unprepared she ended the conversation with the only exit she could think of without offending him too much.
“Yeah, got-to-go-bye. ” With that, she closed the door behind her, leaving her tenant behind.
She leaned back against the door, breathing raggedly. And then it hit her just what she had done, and how irrationally she just acted to her new tenant. The man who just spent a lot of money to live above her.
She slid down, cursing. Crap. He was probably some friendly (wealthy) guy who had probably just read one of her cooking articles in the paper happened to realize who his landlord was. He was just trying to be nice or something.
Probably just an awkward dude trying to be nice.
Mihoko almost banged her head on the door. Why was bad with this, after so much time? Even her tenant, who was sort of frumpy and messy looking, managed to fluster and make her skittish.
"They can't find me." She whispered. "I'm safe."
--X--
It seemed like her prayer turned out to be true.
The following days were nothing different than how she had been living before, except she no longer had to clean the upstairs apartment. And she could buy more donuts. She was relieved after that disastrous first meeting her tenant was just as reclusive as she previously been told.
Most of the time he was quiet, hardly any footsteps above her while she worked. She never seemed to hear him on the stairs even though they were a bit squeaky from the old parts rubbing together. His friends were a bit loud, but she never saw them, and they never lingered.
The finishing blow to her guilt was a simple note with one word, taped on her doorway.
Sorry.
Ah, he knew he had freaked her out to the point of not leaving her home.
She begrudgingly accepted that it was tolerably thoughtful, and she officially felt terrible about blowing him off as a creep. Maybe Etsuko was right. Maybe she was a cynic when it came to real people.
This is why she was standing outside his doorway; something she never hoped to do with a tenant. Thankfully it wasn’t to demand rent or post an eviction, just to beg for repentance. Beg with a plate of still-warm sugar cookies, a recipe she had learned from Kyou, her friend who baked.
An apology was in order.
So despite her hesitance, she raised a hand and knocked once.
The door swung inwards before she got a second knock, and revealed... no one there. Just the apartment, mostly clean with a pleasant lived-in look, but there was no tenant.
Until there was a bark and she looked down.
It was a dog.
A tan dog with a white line down his muzzle, sunglasses, and a rather adorable blue outfit with a face on the back. A scarecrow face, as Etsuko would tell her. Apparently, with the new Hokage, it was popular with the kids to graffiti them places. Apparently, the shops were now selling doggie clothes with them on.
Sukea must be a fan of the new Kage.
The good boy wasn’t pacing though, sitting demurely and staring her down. No growling, a good sign. Did... he open the door by himself?
She smiled, wondering if her neighbor forgot to lock his door. She kneeled, hesitantly holding her hand over his little body. Awkwardly, and without thinking, she spoke to him, head tilted.
“Hi, little buddy. May I pet you, you good boy?” Her voice was on the ridiculously cushy side, but she had a soft spot for dogs. The canine seemed to consider her proposition, tilting his head to allow her access. She reached, giving him a good scratch as she hadn't quite registered what had happened.
“If you let me have a cookie you can.” He said frankly, letting her get one good pet in.
She paused, thought flying out of her head as the dog put a paw on the plate, lowering it to grab one and eat it. “Don’t tell the boss, he is trying to keep us on a diet.”
“Us?... Did you-”
The dog snickered, grabbing another cookie.
“Don’t think about it too much or you’ll hurt your head. These for the boss?”
She blankly nodded, and he grabbed the entire platter with his mouth. He took it over to the table, rearing back to carefully place it on the table. Walking back, he nudged the door with his mouth and she got the message, being dismissed.
“Thanks, kid. I’ll let him know it was you.” She had a lot of questions but none she knew how to say at that moment.
“Oh, thanks.
“Bye, lady.”
The door softly closed behind her as took the stairs one at a time. Pausing at her door she looked up again, shaking her head.
“What the?”
--X--
It was Thursday at 6:30 pm that the group that was known as ‘The Most Exclusive Book Club in Konoha’ gathered. Started by the illustrious baker Kyou Suki, who enjoyed talking about the nitty-gritty of plot and the technical definitions of onamonapias. It was her pet project she did for fun, and when she had spotted Mihoko asking about a croquembouche and pronouncing it correctly, she knew she had found a like-minded soul.
So Mihoko made her first friend in the city, right after purchasing the land that would house her home. Meeting Etsuko there was another roll of the dice of change, but Kyou’s crush on her brother was not. These three women, despite whether they were busy or not planned, met once a week to discuss their lives, and occasionally, books.
Because, despite the name, it was mostly an excuse to gossip and stuff their faces with whatever Kyou hadn't sold the previous week.
“Soooooooo, may the meeting commence!” Kyou said enthusiastically, taking off her apron while flipping the open sign to closed. “On tonight’s menu is are some old eclairs, a creme caramel, and some leftover pieces of baklava.” Mihoko and Etsuko were around at the one table left down in the bakery, sitting on the padded vintage seats waiting for her. They admired the ‘leftovers’ that Kyou saved for their little meeting, bringing the tea and other snacks to even the contribution. A single copy of Mihoko’s latest book was sitting in the middle, a romance called The Masked Man under the moniker Riku Sen. Kyou went to the windows, pulling down the blinds.
Etsuko smiled widely at the array of desserts, and even Mihoko couldn’t help break into a grin at the treats.
“Oh wow, why the decadent spread tonight?” Etsuko said in wonder. Kyou redid her bright red hair into a bun, smirking.
“A little birdy told me that not only did Mihoko-chan get a new tenant to pad her pockets, but that her story is selling remarkably well. Our dear Hokage was seen reading it and the sales have skyrocketed.” Etsuko clapped her hands together in delight. "It's officially her top seller, under her name!"
"Pen name." Mihoko corrected, much to Kyou's amusement.
“Mih-chan, you didn’t say anything after I asked about it!" Etsuko grinned. "You were playing with me all last week! You should have told me it was that popular!"
Mihoko swiped an eclair, figuring she had earned it. If she had to listen to these two all night she might take the entire tray.
“Ichiei-san has a big mouth.” She muttered, stuffing it in her mouth. “Confidentiality is a thing. If it gets back to my granny I’m dead.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full young lady,” Kyou said sharply, but with humor in her chipper voice. She swatted Mihoko’s hand away as she tried to take another. “We won’t tell your noisy granny. If you don’t. Besides, it would be a shame to never read such debauchery!” Kyou winked, pulling out her own copy. Mihoko blushed.
Etsuko pursed her lips, pulling out hers as well. Mihoko nearly cried.
"Ah, I was going to tell her!"
Kyou brushed her off, leaning into the table. “Spill the beans, hot stuff. Where did you get the know-how to write erotica like a porn star?" She interrogated. "Who's the boy toy that taught you?”
Fire filled Mihoko’s face as her friends turned on her. “It’s not erotica. It’s just a romance I finished for the old man!”
“No way! A hot kinky book for that old man?”
Mihoko glared at Kyou, grabbing another eclair she planned to toss at her.
Kyou shook a finger at her, swiping a treat as Mihoko tried to regain her dignity. “Don’t what me- I read that and it was some hot stuff. So there’s either a boy or some serious inspiration.”
“This is my job. It’s not that hard to see and describe romance." Her lifted fingers indicated. "The old man wanted me to do it, and I couldn’t avoid it or the perv would come to haunt me in the shower.” She said, sighing and sitting back into her chair, “I tell you both every week that I’m not interested in dating yet, and you both never listen.” Her two friends were already talking over her again.
“Do you have a sequel your writing then? Your last book totally ended on a cliffhanger.” Etsuko asked, sighing.
“Not yet.” Mihoko sighed, finally cutting in with what actually was on her mind. “I do have other... things on my mind.” Kyou raised a brow.
"Oh?"
"My new tenant has a dog. I think."
"Think?" Kyou said with a quirked mouth.
“Oh, nice!” Etsuko said, thoughtlessly, helping herself to some balaclava. "Worried about your fine wood floors being peed on?"
"No!" Mihoko rubbed her brow, trying to think of a way to say it, without sounding like a loon.
“Okay?” Kyou put a hand on her hip. "You allergic?"
“No! The dog talks! He's a talking dog.” Mihoko cut them both off and relished in seeing their faces reflect the confusion she had been mired in. "Yeah, it said hi to me."
“Are you ok?”
“I’m not delusional Kyou.”
“Perhaps a tad overworked than.”
“Kyou-chan. I’m serious." Mihoko put her arms on the table, folding them. "I went to go say sorry to my tenant and his dog opened the door and... talked to me. Took all of the cookies I made, and one of my nice plates.”
Etsuko put a finger to her lips, “Actually my brother has talked about how some ninja work with animals. I can as more if you want.”
Mihoko perked up. "Really? That would be great!"
Kyou nodded.
“Homework for you then. So besides a staring contest and a barking mad canine, how is the tenant?”
Mihoko shrugged. “He’s pretty much gone most of the time.”
“Boring. Well, dear Mih-Mih-chan, I guess we’ll have to investigate further! Tonight I’m staying over to unravel the mystery!” Kyou declared enthusiastically, pounding a fist down and sending some caramel creme flying. Etsuko nodded, a sign she was in too.
“Don’t just invite yourselves! You do remember you run a restaurant and you work at a daycare!”
“Oh, ya...”
“Fine, we’ll plan for next week.”
Mihoko rolled her eyes, but smiled, choosing not to mention the weird first meeting. ”Okay, but not for the tenant or his dogs. He pays for privacy.”
“Killjoy. Fine, we’ll go bar hopping.”
---X---
It seemed she and her Sukea were bound to play a game of chicken, living around one another without talking. She was pretty disappointed when he didn’t respond or even return her plate, worried that she wasn't going to get it back. She didn’t have the courage to go over there again to get her plate. Not yet at least.
Bad dog.
Between her newest deadline ( Curse you Ichiei you brilliant, slave-driving, editor ) and a general disposition to avoid unpleasant moments, it was nearly three days before another strange occurrence happened.
Sunday’s were good days.
One large reason that Mihoko decided on the plot of land she did was the ample space for a patch of grass and a small garden. Sunday’s were her official day off, and she dragged her hammock out for a bit of direct sunlight. Equipt with a large mug of tea and a new book, she let herself forget everything. She wore a blue striped sundress and wrapped herself in a small blanket in her hammock, and the temperature was perfect.
“Hey, neighbor.”
She jumped, nearly swinging out of her hammock. Twisting she looked to the voice, seeing her elusive neighbor seated on the window frame in a position that made her heartbeat nervously.
He must have sensed her distress, as he leaned back into his room, smiling gently, hand raised.
“Sorry about that.”
“Uh... No problem, pleasedon’tfall ” She blurted stupidly, mentally berating her idiocy. To his credit, he took a step back inside, but not so far that they couldn't talk. He seemed much more relaxed this time.
“Do you mind if I bring my dogs down? They are jealous of you.”
Her nerves rung, but his lease specifically stated he had use of the area. “No, please. You are welcome down whenever you want.” It came out far more graciously than she felt.
He nodded, turning and shutting the window. His dogs must have been desperate because she thought she heard a mob of little paws pounding down the stairs. Down, and straight into her hammock. It turned out she wasn’t that far off the mark as several dogs burst through the backyard, charging at her with enthusiasm. Anticipating their target she let her tea fly, holding on to the rope beneath her.
The first dog to jump into the swing was wrapped in white bandages, but that’s all she saw as he jumped into her arms.
"I win!" He cried. A chorus of whining and groaning followed, all from the dogs. She and they swung precariously in the rope basket, each additional dog adding momentum until the hammock finally gave way, it’s metal legs leaving the ground.
Mihoko prepared herself to hit the ground, get clawed, and land on sharps of her broken teacup. She closed her eyes tightly.
“Sorry about that. They should know better.” Warm arms caught her. A bark responded to him, and she opened her eyes staring into a tan scarf and handsome chin. Geez, her tenant's jaw was chiseled. And seemed to have caught her child in the pool. Somehow Sukea had made it in time to catch her as she was slung from the hammock. The cozy seat was now filled with no less than eight dogs of every shape, size, and color. They filled it comically, including an enormous bulldog whose jump ejected her. He was content at the bottom of the pile.
Embarrassment filled her as the man set her down on her feet, handing her back her tea.
How on earth?
“Uh, Thank you." She said breathlessly, pulling down her dress, cheeks red.
"My apologies. I promise I'll punish them later." Sukea said, smiling. The dogs behind them groaned, some shouting in dismay. Mihoko didn't register it, her chest tight at the sight of Sukea's delicious smile. It took her a moment for her breath to return, and when it did, she raised her free hand.
"Oh no, you don't need to do that. I’m sure they were just... excited.”
He shook his head. “No, don't excuse them. They’ll take advantage of you if you let them.” He said warmly. A small pug hopped to the top of the dogpile, getting her attention.
“No, we won’t boss.” He said gruffly, making her turn, pointing. Her mouth dropped open.
“You do talk! I thought I had gone mad!” She turned to Sukea, who had a hand behind his head, giving an awkward laugh.
“Uh, sorry. Normally they don’t.” He said, clearly embarrassed. The tiny brown pug whose voice seemed to be too deep for his body started sniffing her.
“That’s a lie." He even rolled his eyes.
"Pakkun," Sukea said, his tone sharp. He was summarily ignored.
"Hey Lady, got any more of those cookies?” He asked, leaning in. "You should've heard the boss talk about y-." Sukea quickly bent down, grabbing the dog named Pakkun. There was a puff of smoke and he was gone, unable to finish whatever he was going on about.
Mihoko put her arms out as if trying to pause the scene. “Did you just magic your dog away?” Sukea stood up, a relative term as Mihoko realized he was still slouching a bit. He must be huge standing straight, she realized.
“Ninjutsu.”
She paused, not sure how to convey the depth of her curiosity without seeming rude and overbearing.
“Oh. I wasn’t aware you were a Shinobi.” He shrugged, as if to say, not really.
“I know a few tricks, enough for my job. They’re ninja dogs. I have a contract with them. They keep me safe when I travel for work.”
“Oh. Photographer, right?”
"Photojournalist of sorts." He said, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a camera. She twisted her hands, hoping he didn't want one of her. They both went quiet as the dogs snuggled together, watching them interact. She twined her fingers together and tilted her head to get a better look at the brunette casually standing next to her, hands in his pockets.
He had left the conversation open, perhaps sensing her unease. She had a choice. She could either slip back inside and let him be, or risk annoying him. But he stayed there, watching his dogs, not seeming to mind her.
Her desire to flee grew. Thankfully, he sensed that as well.
“Thank you for the cookies. I would have brought the plate back but Bull sat on it and, well, he’s the big one.” Sukea said, pointing out the giant pooch. "My apologies. I'll need to buy you another."
Normally, such an idea would have made her laugh. Instead, horror-struck her, choaking up her throat. The plate! That, that had been her fathers! Mihoko turned, looking at the giant dog stretching her hammock into an unrecognizable lump, tears forming. It was her fault, she should have known not to leave a plate-like that with a dog, even if he could talk. Seems like Sukea let his dogs run all over him.
“Oh.” She said quietly, hoping her voice didn’t betray how disappointed she was. He caught on to her attitude, looking properly ashamed. “Where can I buy some more? I don’t want to seem like a terrible neighbor.” A little late for that. Maybe she should have said no to dogs. Conversely ninja. Or just shinobi.
“It's fine. They don’t sell those here.” She shifted so her hair fell over her face, stepping away as he turned towards her. She turned, walking to the fence overlooking her garden.
He raised an eyebrow, walking to lean on the fence by her.
“I insist.” His tone was empathetic but firm, and it made her panic.
“Ihavetogo.” She panicked, and before he could get closer, bolted back to the house.
She shut the front door behind her, locking every one of the six chains she had. Grabbing the throw pillow on her old couch she fell face forward, letting it swallow her tears and anger and everything dark and seething inside of her. She screamed into the fabric, hoping that her tenant couldn't hear. By the end, she fell asleep on the couch, curled up like a baby.
She woke up to the dark outside, throat dry and her body weak. She forced herself up, made tea and dinner, and chided herself for the scene she had caused. All this time and she was still a brat on the inside, just like her estranged family. No, it was just a plate, she told herself. Distress filled her at the childish way she had reacted. It was her fault for loaning such a precious keepsake, and she needed to suck it up.
It was just a plate.
The after shutters of misery slowly left her.
When she finally dared go out, she found her hammock, blanket, and cup neatly before her door.
Almost slobber-free.
She laughed-cried.