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When she had first bowed over their doorstep, Kyoko had been conscious of a feeling of inferiority. She had been trained in a ryoukan, taught posture, customer service, and even how to cook. But standing in that small, family owned restaurant with the happy customer noises in the background and the stern faced taisho in front of her, Kyoko had felt it had all been wasted. She felt dirty, disheveled, and small.
So when they had hired her, it had been a very pleasant surprise.
"You're very good at this," the okami-san had told her only a few days after she had started.
"Oh no," she had insisted. "I've just had practice." Okami-san had smiled and shaken her head, but she noticed a faint look of approval in her husband's eye.
She was more and more out of place. Kyoko was sure of it. Normal girls only worked a few part time jobs. She worked dozens, for as long as she could keep them. The Darumaya had been her only constant work. She had noticed a hardening of the taisho's eyes as her appearance upon arrival had become more disheveled, the bags under her eyes more pronounced, and the color of her skin less healthy.
They had started feeding her then, not just the occasional gift for hard work, but consistent meals. She was more than grateful, and tried not to feel conscious and guilty. Since it was the okami-san that always gave her the food, she assumed her taisho disproved of her.
She did not see the worry in his face as her dreams began to sour and her hope of being Sho's support became something perilously close to a drudgery.
"Don't you want to try dressing up and stuff, like other girls?"
Could the okami-san ever know how badly she wanted that? To be as beautiful as a princess so that she could stand by her prince? To be that graceful, that poised?
Husband and wife watched day in and day out as this tireless girl, so young and so alone, pushed herself into a wall.
And then…
And then she had been at their doorstep, her head touched lightly to the ground, a large bag beside her carrying her only remaining possessions.
"I know it is very troublesome, but you mentioned you had a spare room you wanted to rent. Could I please be given the privilege of being your tenant?"
The okami-san had looked briefly at her husband to get his approval and was surprised to find him stepping out from behind the counter. He walked over to the girl on the floor, picked up her bag, and dragged her to her feet with his other hand.
"A proper Japanese girl knows not to bow to a chef like she would to the emperor," he told her sternly, letting her arm go and taking her bag towards the stairs. Kyoko looked to the okami-san, who smiled and bowed to her.
"Welcome to our home," she said sweetly. "We look forward to your staying with us."
"No, the pleasure is mine!" Kyoko gasped as she bowed in return.
"Shall we head upstairs?"
"Yes, please!"
That night, speaking to her husband, the okami-san was not surprised to learn he was relieved that Kyoko had come to them. They would be able to take care of her and she could scarcely be called a burden to them. It would be a delight to have her in their home.
Even if sometimes she did make strange noises.
She had worked so hard for it. So hard. When he had finally let her into his kitchen and she had demonstrated her skill, he had even praised her. Kyoko, if she had not been driven to distraction by her broken heart, would have worked for the rest of her life to keep the good opinion of the taisho. He was… magnificent.
"You dyed your hair!" the okami-san gasped. Kyoko looked up to see the taisho's eyes narrowing. She could not read him very well, but she knew what his displeasure looked like, and she wanted right then to crawl under a rock and die. Suddenly, all her other troubles seemed superfluous.
"He's just sulking." Kyoko blinked as she tried to comprehend this statement. "Up till now, you didn't care about your appearance and you knew how to behave well. That's why he liked you!"
It wasn't until later that Kyoko was able to reflect on that phrase. Liked. The taisho had liked her. But now that was over. She was selling herself to be a star (well, not as badly as some girls did, but…) and he no longer had a reason to respect her. In some ways, it was tragic. The couple at the Darumaya had saved her over and over as she had struggled in Tokyo. It would have been nice if she could have lived up to their expectations.
Kyoko laughed at herself. Since when had she ever met anyone's expectations?
"I know that it's shameless, but I have a favor to ask of you, taisho!"
Kyoko stood backstage, trying to calm down. The people in front of her were amazing of course. And she had the feeling she had not done well in her interview. Her hands clenched around the wrapped bundle in her hand and she felt the flat sharpness through her fingers. The knife must have been very sharp. Suddenly, she felt her hands stop trembling. Pressing the wrapped knife to her heart she closed her eyes and took a small breath. The fears, tucked tightly in her chest, had been sliced through by that blade. The knife the taisho had entrusted to her.
Failed. She had failed. It was not her hands that had failed her. It was her heart. Again she had fallen short of expectations. Again she had disappointed the people she wanted most to impress. Again, again, she had failed the taisho and had wasted the gift he had given her.
Kyoko slumped down the stairs and prepared to depart, cheerfully informing her landlords that she was going to search for a daytime job.
"Does that mean… you're not going to become a celebrity?" the okami-san asked in somewhat disappointed confusion. Kyoko was quiet for a moment. So disappointing. And it was hard to give up on dreams. On anything really.
"I don't think it was for me," she explained as carelessly as she could. "Yesterday, I realized what was wrong with me." Something irreparable. Something she could never get back.
"You're giving up?" The stern, almost disbelieving tone of the taisho cut through Kyoko's gloomy thoughts and caused her to look up. "I… believed you were serious. That's why I lent you my precious tools. I thought you had more guts than that."
There was a thud in Kyoko's chest. Something inside her was slowly beginning to burn. Perhaps she was still too hurt and naive to recognize it. Maybe she had simply never been selfish enough to call it what it really was. But even her heart, beaten, broken, battered, and betrayed responded to her deepest longing. The desire to have someone, anyone, especially those close to her, love her. The question might have seemed like a scold, but in it, Kyoko could feel for the first time the depth of the trust she had been given. The trust that she wanted to keep. Her face hardened with determination, and for just one brief second she could have sworn she saw the taisho smile in response.