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The glow of the sun had already melted below a dark horizon, yet the summer's heat still lingered thick and heavy in the evening air. There hadn't been a proper rainfall in months, making this one more in a succession of bad years for harvest, following last year's wide spread of rice blast and other misfortunes before that. Pests, disease, weather, war; it was one blight after another. Word was that the priests in the capital were panicking, the heavens must be angry, the people of Hanano were being punished for not only allowing the entry of foreigners but adapting their strange ways. Tensions were high in the imperial city and unrest rumbled in the deeper countryside.
In Asagao, though, such news was waved away as the whispers of a crumbling, paranoid generation. The citizens of the self-declared City of Enlightenment rested easy in their seat of worldly luxury. Originally a modest port town, through lucrative trade with the leading world power of Ester it had become a proponent of new technology and the launching point of the progressive movement that advanced steadily across the country. Not without resistance, but such instances—even when they became violent—were considered trifling in the brilliant dawn of a new era.
That was all well and good for the sake of the country's prosperity, but when faced with a long, stuffy evening in the companionship of self-satisfied entrepreneurs taking turns patting themselves on the back—and who expected him to contribute—Kazuya could think of a million different places he'd rather be. This type of request was always the most troublesome.
He delayed entering the restaurant by loosening his tie and popping the first button of his shirt. Not the most proper appearance for this kind of company and at this level of sobriety, but the layers of his clothes were already sticking to his skin. And even if the temperature wasn't an issue, the custom-cut of the suit was constraining in ways that had nothing to do with tailoring. He wore the foreign clothes well, always had, like a second skin. A skin that was not his own and should have been left behind along with the name he'd surrendered two years ago.
His fingers lingered on a second button, but in the end left it alone. He was a professional, and this was Asagao; it wasn't the first, nor would it be the last time he met with clients like this. Though it was annoying when they called him out to exercise his neglected social graces. There was a very established, government-sanctioned line between courtesan and prostitute, and while Kazuya appreciated being on the respectable side of it, sometimes it was so much more preferable to just stay in and fuck without worrying about niceties, politics, and the whole roundabout game.
Then again, on a night as sweltering as this, maybe he didn't envy the others doing the usual sweaty work so much. There was no winning either way. And he was dawdling for far too long. Best get it over with.
Inside the restaurant was packed, filled with light and the constant hum of conversation punctuated by shouts for more drinks and rumbles of laughter. The wait staff were spread thin, hurrying from table to table. A young girl stopped short when she noticed him and bowed in welcome, pulling on the arm of the boy next to her to do the same. The chopped ends of the girl's fashionable bob fell over her cheeks and Kazuya almost didn't recognize her; Wakana had only arrived in the city that spring to attend the recently opened girls' school, and the last time he'd been here she'd worn her hair traditionally long. Straightening up, the shorter haircut allowed her to meet his eyes more squarely than last time, and he smiled to himself. Her boldness fit well in a place like Asagao.
"Good evening, Kazuya-sama, and welcome. Itou-sama's party is in the back. Sawamura-kun can escort you."
He didn't really require an escort, especially not when the place was so busy already, but judging by the way Wakana shot the new boy a firm look it was more for his benefit than for Kazuya's. She then excused herself to hurry back towards the kitchen, leaving Sawamura to his trial by fire.
"Yes, uh, this way, please!" His voice was pitched loud and his expression was all stiff. The close-fitting lines of his Esteren-style uniform were rumpled in telltale places from being tugged on and fidgeted with. He was so fresh from the country there was probably still mud between his toes—or there would be if not for the drought. He had clear and unflinching eyes, though, despite his shaky nerves. Kazuya found himself grinning as he followed Sawamura to the private rooms in the back of the restaurant.
His arrival was well-received by the customers, and none were surprised to see him. The fact of his attendance had probably been an enticement to some. Though he wasn't very late a few faces were already glowing from drink, urging him to hurry and join them.
Before he did Kazuya laid a hand on Sawamura's arm to get his attention. "Thank you," he said, just to be polite, and watched with a tug of amusement at how the kid's expression brightened from hearing those simple words. He blushed, too, just a bit. This one was certainly easy to read. Kazuya didn't often encounter the guileless sort in his line of work. On a whim he added, "Would you mind bringing a bottle of wine? Pinot Noir if you have one from a good vintage, or any Merlot will do. Actually, just go with the Merlot."
Sawamura's eyes had gone round. "I—sure! I'll just let Wakana know—"
Kazuya raised an eyebrow, mouth twitching at the way Sawamura immediately shut up. "I'm asking you, though. Wakana-chan seemed busy."
The kid stiffened up again, but with resolve this time instead of nervousness. "Yes, sir! I'll get it for you right away. Anything else?"
Well, he was earnest if not the most graceful. It was kind of refreshing. "That will be all."
Sawamura's bow was both hasty and excessive, and then he was gone, leaving Kazuya to collect himself and switch gears in his head before joining the others at the table. He should probably be focused on his job, not playing with the out-of-his-depth waiter no matter how amusing he found him, but Kazuya's job at the moment was the opposite of what he considered fun. It required a pleasant smile and flattering conversation, and safe jokes that were clever but not too cutting. Some flirting here and there, but nothing too tantalizing. If anyone wanted more they could come to Seidou and pay up for it. Kazuya didn't do private house calls.
The topics that passed back and forth over the table were a combination of business and casual. With his background Kazuya could follow the industry lingo with ease, even contribute if he was inclined, but that wasn't what this sort of crowd wanted to hear from him. They weren't paying for his opinions on the new tax reforms and funding for more steel and textile factories, or his insights into the status of the national rail construction project. Even in the most formal of settings he wasn't a peer but an entertainer.
And that was fine; that was what he chose after all. He didn't even want to talk shop like he still belonged in that world. But talking gossip got tiring as well. Playing nice wore on him quickly. His skin itched with the concealment of all his sharp edges.
He changed his mind; no matter how uncomfortably hot, a night of business in bed was preferable over this. At least then he'd be naked and not in this damned confining suit.
A small but exceedingly welcome reprieve came when Sawamura returned with the requested bottle—and it was one from a very good year, whether by accident or with some help.
Definitely some help, Kazuya decided as he watched Sawamura open the bottle and place the cork on the table. He must have gotten a run-down on the etiquette, and that was just adorable because the restaurant was fairly modern but not one where Kazuya would expect a wine presentation. He propped his chin in his hand to cover the smile shaping his lips, and to remind himself not to laugh while Sawamura poured a sample of the Merlot into a glass with a look of intense concentration on his face.
The sample was plenty satisfactory (next time he'd go ahead with the Pinot Noir since someone in the kitchen knew their vintages), and the rest of the wine was poured around the table.
"This is a pleasant surprise," said Itou after tasting. "Kazuya-kun, I commend your choice."
"I only specified the brand, the actual choice was left to our server." All eyes turned to Sawamura, who colored as deep a red as the wine, and Kazuya smirked into his glass.
"No! I mean, I asked Umemoto-san what to pick and everything, I really don't know the first thing about wine. But I'm very glad you like it!" Sawamura tugged at the cuffs of his sleeves like he wanted to roll them up or maybe tear them off. At this rate the uniform would be ruined within the week. The kid was a disaster waiting to happen. Kazuya idly wondered if he could find the time to come here more often before it did.
At the head of the table Itou smiled like an indulgent father. "Then I hope it was a valuable learning experience for you."
"Sure, it was kinda interesting! I'm learning a lot here, and it's only my first day—ah, please excuse my inexperience. I probably should have said that earlier."
A round of good-natured laughter swept the table. The hazy, steeped atmosphere allowed for it. Sawamura was lucky, or maybe he had a knack for this sort of thing.
"You're new to Asagao, aren't you? Where are you from?" One of Itou's colleagues, Otani, leaned back in his seat with his hands folded across his middle. His face was one of the most flushed in the room, his expression loose. Before the wine he'd already emptied his sake cup many times.
Sawamura's answer was a small village to the northwest—not too terribly far from Asagao, but not neighboring either, and it was in a remote mountainous region that got little rainfall even under normal circumstances. It must have been hit hard by the drought, so families making their living there would be stretched thin. Sawamura was probably one of many kids that were either sent to school if they were bright enough, or left on their own to find their way, or in the worst case were sold off.
Otani's eyebrows climbed up his face, appraising. "You've come quite a ways then, for one so young."
Sawamura puffed up a little. "I'm 14 already! I'll be of age next spring!"
"Still a kid for now," Kazuya pointed out, noting with some satisfaction when a few of the men including Otani blinked as if coming out of a daze. That could have gotten a little dangerous. Sawamura was nothing but trouble, and apparently had the guts to glare at him, oblivious to the subtle shifts happening around the table.
"You can't be more than a couple years older at most."
"That's irrelevant. The difference between 14 and 15 is significant around here. Keep that in mind."
"Well," Otani cleared his throat, "that mainly applies to the unique environment of Yugao, and it's more of a ceremonial occasion, is it not?"
It's the law, that's what it is, but Kazuya reined in the snappish retort before it flew off his tongue. Like he was one to talk, anyway. He just needed to shoo Sawamura out of here before things got out of hand. "Indeed," he said, reaching for a diplomatic response, "turning 15 is a celebratory event for us in the district. Though I wouldn't know myself since I was already of-age when I entered Seidou."
That garnered some interest. Drop a personal tidbit into the pond and one was bound to get nibbles. A relatively sober-looking man turned to Kazuya curiously. "You debuted around… two years ago, was it?"
"I remember it was winter," said Itou, regarding Kazuya with some mirth out of the corner of his eye. "Two years ago, yes. You came out of nowhere—shortest training period the district has ever seen, I believe."
"Why, Itou-san, I hope you aren't implying that my training was lacking in any way."
"You know it wasn't, and you were as bold then as you are now." Itou's gaze shifted to catch on Sawamura, almost as if by accident. "Ah, Sawamura-kun, forgive us old men for reminiscing. We won't keep you from your other duties any longer. Thank you for serving the wine, and please give our regards to Umemoto-san for her excellent choice of vintage."
Sawamura dipped low—excessively low again—his relief palpable as he excused himself.
"That was sly of you," Kazuya murmured to Itou once the conversation had safely made a few turns.
Itou was traditional in his choice of drink; after the first polite taste and compliments he had set the wine aside and now held out his sake cup to be refilled. "I was only following your lead, Kazuya-kun."
"I appreciate it."
"For a while I wondered if you might have a rival to contend with."
Kazuya was a professional; he didn't spill the sake as he poured, but a burst of incredulous laughter managed to escape him. "A rival? That brat? You're kidding."
"Oh, I mean no slight to your abilities. You are one of Yugao's finest. It's just that he is the opposite of you, so the appeal is different."
"Hm. Well, I suppose I will concede that point."
"He might do well at someplace like Seidou. To be honest, I do not think he will last long here."
Kazuya laughed again. "He'd have to learn some manners first! Accidental charm only goes so far. Even Jun-san handles himself better."
"That's why there's a training period, no? Although perhaps you wouldn't know so much about that."
"Itou-san, you really do think I am lacking."
Itou smiled, cup hovering near his mouth, just barely watching Kazuya as the other men grew rowdier laughing at some joke. "I think it's interesting, that's all. The contrast between you two."
"A professional and an amateur?"
"An accomplished liar and an honest—albeit somewhat foolish—pure heart."
"Ouch," said Kazuya, wincing, rolling with the sharp turn of conversation even as it went places he never thought to expect. "Itou-san is very honest himself tonight."
"You dropped your guard first, beginning with the wine and then with Otani-san, so it's hard to resist such a rare opportunity. That's also something I find interesting."
Kazuya downed the remainder of his wine in one fortifying swallow. "You cunning old fox."
Itou magnanimously poured him some sake before raising his own cup. "To us tricksters then."
With no choice but to smile wryly, Kazuya clinked their cups together.
"Kanpai!"
❧
It was dark outside, this far from the streetlamps and with the stars above blocked out by clouds that stubbornly refused to yield rain. A heat-muddled summer night where even the cicadas sounded sluggish. There was a foreboding ache beginning to pound lightly—for now—behind Kazuya's temples, but he had to last another hour at least before it would be acceptable to retire for the evening.
He could have declined the request to begin with. He had that right, and had exercised it before whenever the likelihood was high that he'd run into faces he'd rather not see. But for the most part Kazuya wasn't known to be picky.
Old habits are hard to break after all. The orange tip of his cigarette glowed and was followed by another stream of smoke disappearing into the night.
Besides that, Itou was one of his regular and more likable clients. Even if he was a bit too shrewd at times.
Kazuya smoked his cigarette down to the end. Stalling again, and that was a bad habit he really couldn't afford. One more hour of making nice, he told himself. Then he could go home and sleep off the headache. Maybe find someone to unwind with before that if he felt up to it. Nori would be good. Definitely not Ryousuke, he'd been prickly since spring and Kuramochi was handling him with care, but wouldn't say why when Kazuya prodded. Jun was too demanding, and not even that interested in playing around anymore since his childhood friends had popped up in town. Apparently he was the loyal type. Kazuya never ceased to find it hilarious how someone like that wound up in a business like this. Then again, whatever Jun had with Tetsu and Takako wasn't strictly normal, either. But no judging. No one had the right to judge in Yugao.
He flicked the spent cigarette and snuffed its embers out under his shoe. Then a sudden crash stopped Kazuya from approaching the restaurant again. Shouts came from inside, then heavy footsteps, weight being dragged, and finally the toss of a body that went flying through the door to hit the opposite wall. Kazuya winced at the resounding thud. He knew who it was before he even got a good look—Sawamura was loud with outrage, getting to his feet with his fists clenched tight at his sides.
"I know I was wrong! I won't ask for another chance but I couldn't let that bastard treat Wakana that way! Is that how you run this place? In that case, I quit!"
The owner filled the doorway, barking, "You're already fired! Don't come here again!"
"Who'd want to eat at this shitty restaurant anyway? All you do is try to impress the foreigners, and none of them even come here!"
Kazuya clapped a hand over his mouth to hold back his snort of laughter. Maybe the kid wasn't that oblivious after all.
The owner disappeared back inside, but a second later a bucket of dirty dishwater came hurtling out. An impressive display of reflexes spared Sawamura from nearly all of the splash. The bucket bounced off the wall and fell to the ground amid a rain of cursing and inarticulate growling when his vocabulary came up dry, and he kicked the wall for good measure.
A slash of light illuminated his profile: cheek bruised, a trickle of red at the corner of his mouth, eye shining fiercely. This look suited him much more than fumbling courtesy had, although that had been charming in its way.
Kazuya had guessed he wouldn't make it through the week, but Sawamura hadn't even lasted the night. Helplessly, an amused chuckle gave him away.
Sawamura's head snapped up. The heavy frown engraved on his mouth slackened when he saw Kazuya standing partway in the shadows of the alley. His eyes first went wide with surprise and then squeezed shut with chagrin. Color rose to his cheeks. There was never any need to guess what was going through his mind.
Honest and pure, huh? But he still had no manners. "What'd you do?" Kazuya asked, hands casual in his pockets. "Pick a fight with a customer?"
The scowl returned to the kid's features. Bull's-eye. "I just told him to quit harassing Wakana."
"With what, your fist?"
"He was really out of line!"
Kazuya hardly needed to imagine the scene. Packed restaurant, everybody deep into their drinks, staff already harried and fraying at the ends, not paying as much attention as they normally would to the potentially troublesome customers. Wakana keeping her anger in check until Sawamura came charging in, all righteous fury. Kazuya shook his head. "It's not that I disagree with your intentions, but there had to be a better way to handle it."
Sawamura's flush deepened. "I know that! I acted without thinking! I'm regretting it… kind of. Not really. What's so funny?!"
At first Kazuya had tried to disguise the laugh by coughing into his fist, but there was no helping it. "You're something else, kid. I can't tell if you're amazing or just amazingly stupid."
"O-oi! What the hell is that supposed to—"
"So? You're out of a job. Now what will you do?"
Sawamura's mouth opened and closed for a few seconds. "I—I'll find something else, I guess. It's a big city, there's got to be something. Anywhere besides this shit restaurant is fine. No problem!"
Kazuya watched as he gained confidence with every word, until a huge, incandescent grin split his face. Like he could take on the world. He'll either go far or hit the ground hard. Or both.
Getting into brawls with customers… that sort of behavior would land him on his ass anywhere, but it would especially not be tolerated by any of the houses in Yugao. It wasn't that courtesans needed to be perfectly refined and elegant—just look at Jun—but a certain degree of civility was required.
Still, that sort of thing can be taught. Kazuya walked a semi-circle around the boy, whose expression grew wary. He was a little rough-edged and gangly with youth, but not unattractive. His body was trim and lean from an active lifestyle. If he could control his fussing he'd probably look good in either traditional or Esteren clothes. He hadn't been clumsy when serving the wine and performed relatively well under pressure. His mouth, while quick to yell and frown and reveal too much, hadn't gotten him into trouble as much as his temper had. He either had luck or character on his side, and only time would tell which it was. His eyes were still his best feature in Kazuya's opinion, bright and clear—though filled with suspicion at the moment.
"What are you doing?"
In the end, though, Kazuya wasn't all that concerned with his aptitude. It mattered in the grand scheme of things of course, but personally he just wanted to see what might happen if someone like Sawamura was dropped into his world. Whether he'd sink or swim with that attitude of his. That ridiculous honesty.
Kazuya smiled—not the kind of smile he usually showed his clients, and Sawamura backed up a step when it was aimed at him. "If anything's fine, you could come to Seidou."
"Seidou…?"
Kazuya leaned forward. Sawamura's back hit the wall, but the force of his glare hadn't changed. Like he wasn't even aware of being cornered. A little bit dumb, a little bit dangerous. Kazuya's smile showed teeth. "In Yugao."
"In…?" Sawamura's eyebrows shot up. A wash of red spilled across his face. "That's… isn't that the…?"
"The pleasure district? Of course."
Sawamura's eyes were wide one moment, and then the next they were hard and flinty. "Are you messing with me?!"
Kazuya actually wasn't sure how to answer that, either a yes or a no would be both a lie and truth. He settled for turning the question back, "What's your answer?"
"No way! As if! Not in a million years!"
The reaction itself was its own reward. Kazuya backed off so he could hunch over and laugh to his heart's content. He couldn't handle this kid's honesty.
"You are making fun of me!"
"Sorry, sorry." Still slightly bent and holding his stomach, he glanced up with a grin that morphed from sheepish to sly. "An idiot like you would never make it at Seidou anyway."
Sawamura bristled like an offended cat, going so far as to hiss when Kazuya straightened up with a hand on his shoulder. "Don't touch me! And don't make weird offers you don't even mean, you tanuki bastard!"
He really was a trickster to the core. Kazuya snuck an arm around Sawamura's tense shoulders, drawing him in to suggest in his ear, "Did I really not mean it?"
"You—you—"
Kazuya wouldn't have been surprised if he'd had to dodge a fist to the gut, judging by the evidence of Sawamura's temper. What did surprise him, though, was the slump of the kid's shoulders and the way his hands covered his face, muttering, "Stop confusing me, you asshole."
…Maybe that'd been a tad too much for a pure-hearted kid fresh from the countryside (and not yet 15, the more rational part of Kazuya's mind added, and not part of your house, so he's definitely not yours to play with). He allowed himself a brief moment to think that was a pity, then withdrew his arm. "Ah, well," he sighed aloud, tugging on his clothes to straighten them. "I'll tell you one thing that's no trick: you're an interesting one."
"…What's that even supposed to mean?"
"It means what it says." He suddenly craved another cigarette. But no, he really had to be getting back inside.
Sawamura lowered his hands, still glaring. Still red in the face. "I don't get you at all."
"Naturally." Kazuya smirked. "If an idiot like you saw through me, I'd have to retire out of shame."
"Conceited bastard," Sawamura muttered, redirecting his glare to a spot on the ground. After a moment's hesitation he asked, "Are all courtesans like you? Terrible like you, I mean. Why would anyone pay for your company?"
"Because I'm good at my job." The job he should be getting back to, but he couldn't resist teasing the kid some more. "And I'm pretty good in bed, too. If you were wondering."
"I wasn't!"
"Is that so?"
"I WASN'T AT ALL."
"Okay, okay—"
If there was one thing Kazuya wasn't expecting, it was for a hand to close around his tie and yank, bringing his face close to Sawamura's and those intensely candid eyes. "But I am now, and it's your fault, so—so just—" The second thing Kazuya wasn't expecting (but he probably should have been) was for Sawamura to crash their mouths together in something too violent to be called a kiss.
Really, Kazuya thought as he was mauled, no manners, this brat. He took Sawamura's face in his hands, adjusted the angle, and showed him how it was done. There was an alarming split-second when he tasted blood until he remembered the dash of red against Sawamura's lip. The wound was on the inside of his mouth, a small cut in the slick flesh from his teeth, and Kazuya pushed his tongue against it a little meanly to hear Sawamura's muffled grunt. Then he gentled the kiss, drawing away from territory that still wasn't his to enter. Sawamura followed without protest, being led easily like this, and there was that accidental sweetness again in contrast to all his fire and fight.
He really might make a good courtesan. Or even just a good lover. Ah, dangerous thoughts. Kazuya smoothed his tongue over the roughness of the lips under his, and with more reluctance than he'd like to admit, parted ways with them.
"Happy now?" he asked, brushing his thumb over the bruise that dappled one cheek.
Sawamura's face was warm under his hands and there was a satisfying daze in his blinking eyes. "Yes…?"
"Pfft." Kazuya pressed another kiss, short and chaste, to Sawamura's softened mouth. "That's all, though. Special service for making this night a little more interesting. Although I should also make you pay for disrupting my work."
"Huh? Wait, how's that my fault?!"
"Fine, fine, we'll call it even." He stepped back—and then took a second step for good measure—fixing his tie and once again contemplating second cigarette. He wasn't sure how he'd be able to focus with Sawamura's taste lingering in his mouth. Not to mention he probably looked a bit ravaged. Shit. Hopefully everyone will be too drunk by now to notice.
Sawamura, for his part, still appeared slightly off-kilter. "Is that it? I mean…"
Kazuya paused in the midst of turning away. There was a ball of something that felt suspiciously like guilt forming in his stomach. "…You know where to find me," he said at last, starting towards the door. "…Ah." He smirked over his shoulder. "But you'll need to be 15 first before you can even set foot in Seidou. As a customer anyway. Goodnight, Sawamura."
He ducked into the restaurant, where he was suddenly overwhelmed by its light and noise after the quiet dark. It took him a minute to adjust, pushing his glasses up to rub his eyes. When he blinked them open again he found himself being stared down by Wakana.
She had her arms crossed, one foot tapping slowly. Come to think of it, she'd never been all that impressed by him since the beginning. A bit flustered at first, unused to Asagao's ways, but she had a very good head on her shoulders and soon adjusted quite well to the environment. She'd always been civil, neither cold nor fawning. They'd exchanged friendly words once or twice, but they weren't close.
Kazuya wouldn't say he felt nervous under the brunt of her scrutiny, but he might have admitted to some vague discomfort as he waited her out.
After a while Wakana's foot came to a rest. Her head tilted, questioning. "Did you mean it? About inviting Eijun to Seidou. Do you really think he could make it there?"
"Well, it's not for me to decide…" He was good at reading expressions—it was something of a required skill—and while Wakana didn't outright glare, her gaze hardened to glittering displeasure. Kazuya sighed, corners of his mouth pulling into a self-deprecating smile. Either he was losing his touch or tonight just had it out for him. "It's not impossible, all right? Maybe he'd do well, maybe not. If he chooses to try, that is."
"He does have a… peculiar way with people," Wakana said softly to herself, eyes going distant. With a shake of her head she returned to the present. "Well then, if he does show up at Seidou will you promise me you'll look out for him? Since it's your fault anyway."
"My fault," Kazuya echoed wryly. "I'm regretting it already."
"Too late, you started it, now you'll have to see it through." She took a step forward even though that meant craning her neck up further to look him in the eye. "Eijun and I are from the same hometown. I suppose this is partly my fault as well since I said he could come work here. If he does go to Seidou, I'll leave him in your care—dubious though that may be."
"Hey now."
"So promise that you'll take some responsibility at least."
Maybe it was something in the water of their village that gave them all that clear, direct look in their eyes. Maybe it was the crisp mountain air. Wakana didn't crowd or threaten, but all the same Kazuya found that he couldn't escape if he tried. He notched a grin to his face helplessly. "Sure. I mean, it's not like I was planning to ignore him if he showed up. I'll keep an eye on the kid if he decides to go for it."
There was an infinitesimal lift of Wakana's eyebrow, a tiny pursing of her lips. She held him down for another long second or two and then, since that was the best she was going to get out of him, gave a short nod. "All right. Thank you."
Kazuya let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. Damn, he thought, impressed. Not even 15 yet and she was already a force to be reckoned with.
Wakana folded her hands demurely in front, falling back into her role with an instant ease that any courtesan could admire. She bowed her head. "By the way, Kazuya-sama, Itou-sama and his guests have been inquiring as to your whereabouts for a bit now."
He was almost tempted to take a page from Sawamura's book and swear up a storm. Almost. Instead Kazuya laughed. He leaned an arm against the wall and rested against it, not caring what a mess he looked, dropping all pretenses of poise and control, and just laughed.