Chapter 22
A good night's sleep dispelled last night's fatigue.
As I walked down the stairs, yawning and rubbing my sleepy eyes, the warm morning light in the living room poured through the gauze curtains, coating everything with a soft, light golden hue.
Next to the cushioned nest in the middle of the living room, Atobe was sitting on the sofa with his back to the stairs.
He wore the same plain kimono he'd worn yesterday, his sleeves still rolled up to his elbows, revealing his sleek arms. With his head slightly lowered, his slender fingers held a small pet bottle, carefully feeding the now-energized puppy in the nest, which was now slurping vigorously.
His movements were not particularly skillful, but he was extremely focused and patient. The lines of his profile appeared much softer in the morning light, completely different from the usual flamboyant and all-controlling Ice Emperor.
This scene is a bit too warm to be real.
"Good morning, Atobe-san." I greeted him, my voice still hoarse from just waking up.
Atobe paused in his feeding, his body stiffening for a moment. He slowly turned his head and looked at me, his eyes filled with a subtle sense of complexity and uneasiness.
His eyes quickly swept across the small Buddhist shrine in the corner of the living room behind me, which housed a memorial tablet and a photo, and then quickly moved back to my face. He pursed his lips before whispering, "...Good morning."
I followed his gaze and saw the Buddhist shrine.
I understand it in my heart.
No wonder he had that expression on his face, it turned out he saw this.
I walked to the sofa, squatted down, and gently touched the puppy's warm, furry head. It hummed comfortably twice and continued to drink milk attentively.
Then I raised my head and met Atobe's eyes that were filled with inquiry and a little embarrassment. I smiled frankly, and my tone was as calm as if I was telling someone else's story.
"Oh, that. My parents passed away in an accident when I was five years old. My impression of them is actually very vague." I paused and glanced at the yellowed photo of the young couple with a gentle smile on the shrine.
"Sad? Maybe I did when I was a kid. But now...it's actually okay."
"As a human being, we all go through birth, aging, sickness, and death, as well as separations and reunions. The destination is the same, it's just that we take different paths and arrive at different times. One day, we will meet again at the end of the story."
My tone was relaxed, almost open-minded and nonchalant. This attitude towards life and death was clearly beyond Keigo's comprehension.
He looked at my calm profile, his eyes filled with immense surprise, which then quickly precipitated into a deeper, more complex emotion. A subtle, needle-like prick of heartache quietly spread.
He couldn't imagine the loneliness and resilience this kind and brave girl had to endure growing up in. Behind her seemingly open-minded and indifferent appearance, how many unknown times did she spend licking her wounds alone?
He didn't say anything, but just looked at me with eyes that were deeper and softer than before.
"Alright!" I stood up and clapped my hands, clearing away the subtle, heavy atmosphere. "Are you hungry? I'll get you something to eat."
I turned and headed for the kitchen, saying, "But first, I'm not good at making fancy breakfasts. Can I make you a bowl of noodles? Plain noodles with a poached egg, my specialty. It's guaranteed to be simple and filling."
Atobe seemed to have not yet completely recovered from his previous emotions, and he just nodded subconsciously: "...Yeah."
Soon the sound of pots and pans and the rise of hot steam could be heard from the kitchen.
Soon, two steaming bowls of Yangchun noodles were served on the small dining table. Clear broth, thin white noodles, emerald green chopped scallions, and a plump, slightly crispy poached egg nestled in the center.
It really couldn’t be simpler.
"Here, try it, Master Atobe, don't be disgusted." I pushed one of the bowls in front of him and handed him the chopsticks.
Atobe picked up his chopsticks and looked at the plain bowl of noodles. Accustomed to the meticulous preparations of Michelin-starred chefs, he was a bit skeptical of this homely, exquisite food. He picked up a few noodles, blew on them, and put them into his mouth.
The noodles were cooked to perfection, perfectly firm and soft, with a delicate aroma of wheat. The broth was a simple clear broth, seasoned with just salt and a touch of soy sauce, yet incredibly refreshing and perfectly complementing the noodles' flavor. The poached egg was also cooked perfectly, the white set and the yolk still runny. A gentle poke with chopsticks released the golden liquid, soaking the noodles and adding a touch of richness.
Atobe paused for a moment.
He said nothing, simply lowering his head and picking up another spoonful of noodles, then another. He ate quietly, but not slowly. He quickly devoured the simple, even somewhat shabby, bowl of noodles, even drinking most of the soup.
"...It's delicious." He put down his bowl and chopsticks, raised his eyes, and looked at me sitting opposite him, holding my bowl of noodles and sipping soup. His voice was low and sincere, without a trace of perfunctory.
"Really? That's what I told you." I raised my chin proudly, feeling inexplicably good.
At this moment, the well-fed puppy made a "woof woof" sound in the nest, scratched the edge of the basket with its little paws, and looked at us with longing eyes, as if protesting against being ignored.
"By the way, I haven't given it a name yet." I put down the bowl, went to the little nest, and poked its soft belly. "Little guy, what should you call it?"
Atobe also came over and stood beside me, looking down at the little fur ball that was trying hard to climb out of the basket.
"I found it on a rainy day..." I held my chin in my hand and thought, "How about calling him Xiaoyu? Or... Xiaoshi?"
The name is a bit arbitrary.
The corner of Atobe's mouth seemed to twitch, and he was obviously not satisfied.
Seeing him showing this rare expression of slight disgust, I couldn't help but laugh and continued thinking, "Well... I hope it will be happy and have more sunny days in the future... Call it Xiaoqing? Xiaokong?"
When I mentioned "Xiaokong", my eyes lit up, "Xiaokong! How is it? I met it on a rainy day. I hope it will have sunny skies for the rest of its life."
"Xiaokong..." Atobe repeated in a low voice, his eyes fell on the puppy, and seemed to look through it and look elsewhere.
Meeting on a rainy night, hoping for a clear sky...
This name seems to carry some kind of warm metaphor.
He nodded, with a slight smile on his lips: "Well, Xiaokong. Not bad."
I watched as Atobe reached out and gently tickled Sora's chin with his fingertips. The little guy squinted his eyes in pleasure and purred. The focused yet gentle expression on his face was completely different from his usual arrogant demeanor at school, his aggressive attacking style on the court, and even the way he examined me in the dojo.
After all the gorgeous shells are removed, only a pure tenderness remains.
Without warning, my heart felt like it was gently bumped by something and skipped a beat. A strange, warm throbbing sensation quietly spread.
It turns out...he also has this side of him.
In this warm atmosphere, Atobe seemed to remember something, raised his head and looked at me, his expression returning to his usual calmness.
"Wishan," he began, his voice steady, "Starting next week, I'm going to Canada for a two-week tennis training camp to prepare for the national tournament."
I nodded in understanding. Training camps for top athletes are normal.
"So," Atobe paused, his gaze falling back on Xiaokong who was holding his finger and biting it, his tone becoming serious, "I'll ask you to take care of Xiaokong until I come back."
He paused, as if to emphasize something, and added, "Remember to report its condition to me every day."
"Report?" I was stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing. "How do I report? Take a picture and send it to you?"
"Yes." Atobe nodded seriously, as if this was a matter of great importance. "Photos, videos, and...its diet, mental state, and whether it caused any trouble...all need to be reported in detail."
He listed them, but his eyes glanced at me casually.
Looking at the serious look on his face as he explained the "Xiaokong Observation Report", and then looking at his slightly red ears, the throbbing in my heart quietly emerged again, with a bit of amusement and inexplicable warmth.
"Okay, okay." I deliberately drawled out my tone and teased, "I promise to send you 'Xiaokong's Growth Diary' every day, with pictures and text, and every detail, okay?"
Atobe nodded: "Yes. I'll leave it to you then."
The morning light gently filled the living room, and Xiaokong rolled around contentedly in his nest.
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