Chapter Text
You would give anything to punch your boss right now.
“ - typos are not acceptable , do you hear me? You should be managing your interns and associates better so you can meet the client’s deadlines. They’re a huge hotel chain, do you even understand how important this file is to the company?”
All files are important according to him - he needs to look good in front of his own bosses, justify every bit of the fat bonus he pockets, but to you every additional file added to your already overloaded plate just takes you away from your bed. Your very fluffy, soft bed that you’ve been away for far, far too long -
“Rough day?”
Miya Kaiyo stares down at you, eyebrow raised. You sigh so heavily your new intern turns around to shoot you a panicked look.
“Yep”, you mutter, unable to bring yourself to come up with a more chipper answer. You don’t feel the need to hide your feelings from Kaiyo anyway - heaven knows she’s seen you through enough mental breakdowns at work from the time you started out in the company as fresh faced trainees to recognise all your tells.
“Wanna grab dinner with me? You look like shit. When was the last time you saw sunlight?”
She’s now the hotshot director of the forensic accounting department, and you’ve extricated yourself from the dreary audit department to get into business consulting, but you’re glad she still pops down to your office from time to time to drag you out of your cave. Even if she’s a bit abrasive about it.
“Don’t you have to pick Shino from childcare today?”
“Atsumu’s in charge of pick-ups now. Come on, I’ve a craving for onigiri and miso pork -”
“Onigiri Miya again?” you groan as she cackles, snatching your purse and dragging you out of the office, ignoring the curious gaze of your younger associates and impressionable interns.
Pale sunlight spills into the valley between concrete buildings as you weave through stone faced pedestrians and steel cars, tumbling breathless onto the pavement before the wooden sliding doors of Onigiri Miya.
“Look who’s here!”
“Mama!”
“Oi! Yer lettin’ the cold air in”, Atsumu calls over, Osamu immediately snapping - “don’t be rude to my customers, ya prick”, Kaiyo nearly falling over as Shino bounds over, leaping straight into her arms.
You can’t help the bittersweet feeling that blooms in your chest everytime you watch Kaiyo with her little family, their easy affection making you ache when you remember that all that’s waiting for you back in your tiny studio apartment is a stack of empty take-out boxes that you haven’t had time to clear yet. Gods , you’re so desperately lonely. You should adopt a cat. At least you’ll have a living being looking forward to you coming home, because getting just a plant is just sad, even if all you have to do is talk to it and water it. But if you do - will you end up as a lonely cat lady? Oh gods , that’s your fate isn’t it? To die surrounded by nine cats and a mountain of recycling-
“Auntie!”
You plaster a smile on your face as you lift the little girl up in your arms, nuzzling into her hair. “Have you been good, Shin-chan?” you ask, and she nods eagerly. You listen solemnly and ooh and ahh at all the right places as she rattles on about her day at kindergarten today, your grin growing wicked as you watch Atsumu sulk as she raves about her best friend in the world - Meian Makoto. You’re very well aware that the blonde setter is deathly afraid that he’ll be displaced as the number one man in his little girl’s life, and you can’t help needling him, just a little bit.
“Makoto will make a fantastic son in law, even if he’s just six. So - when’s the wedding?”
Atsumu explodes, yelling indignantly, “when’s yer wedding?”, even as Kaiyo rolls her eyes at her irrepressible husband and drags you into a booth tucked away in the back.
“I’m glad squabbling with my husband has made you look more alive. You looked like death in the office.”
“Sorry” you apologise meekly, but she waves it away with a fond smile, shouting at Osamu to prepare her usual order.
“Is it work stress?” Kaiyo asks, leaning on her elbow, tilting her head to look intently at you. “Is it your idiot boss? Y’know, you should leverage your professional experience to switch teams if that’s what you need.”
You sink your chin onto the table, exhaustion settling into your very bones. “I...I think I just need a break”, you admit. You do, you really, really do. You can’t remember the last time you’ve taken more than a few days off work - and even that was to attend your sister’s wedding in Tokyo. Long hours spent in the office with an infuriating boss, weekends burnt to placate clients who keep demanding more and more, you’re tired.
In short, work is shit.
“Take a holiday then.”
That - that does sound incredibly tempting. You have enough vacation days to take two full weeks off, but you don’t know where you should go. Spending two weeks back in your parents’ cramped apartment in Tokyo? Absolutely not. They’ll spend at least half your holiday nagging you for not having a romantic prospect in sight. Bah. It’s not your fault all the men on dating apps are absolute pieces of shit , expecting a bangmaid - someone to fuck them, and then clean up after them with a meek thank you good sir. They can all piss off, thank you very much . The only real choice is to travel around the country solo, since everyone else you know is busy with their own commitments, but you’re already so lonely it’ll be even sadder to have to explore all alone.
“How about the countryside?” Kaiyo suggests, lips quirking upwards mischievously.
“The countryside?”
“I know someone who lives there - or well, Atsumu does...”
“Kaiyo…” you growl, recognising the telltale signs of yet another attempt to matchmake you with one of Atsumu’s friends. You still haven’t gotten over the disastrous date you had with Sakusa Kiyoomi - he’s nice enough you suppose, but it’s hard to tell when he barely said more than ten words to you over dinner. Thank the gods he hadn’t texted you for a second date, even though you’d love to run your fingers through those gorgeous, dark curls -
“Look. Atsumu’s former high school captain runs a rice farm in Hyogo, and it’s the perfect place for you to get plenty of fresh air and sunlight”. She looks up and down at you pointedly. “Goodness knows you need it.”
“Rude”, you retort, as she smirks into her food. “ Wouldn’t I be imposing?”
“Let me ask now”, she replies, whipping out her phone. Wait, wait, wait - what ??! “Kaiyo”, you shout, but she’s too fast for you, hand already outstretched to fend off your panicked attempts to stop her.
“Hello? Kita! How’s obaa-san? That’s great, that’s great - look, I’ve got a favour to ask.”
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A month later, you alight from the train in the sleepy town of Takeda, Hyogo at three twenty-two in the afternoon.
You were bouncing in your seat like a schoolgirl the entire ride into the countryside, your heart growing lighter and lighter as grey concrete melts into waves of green, rolling hills, your lungs expanding with crisp, fresh air, far healthier than the recycled air in your cramped office. Your boss thought you were crazy for waltzing off to the countryside - a hardship tour, he termed it, but you were so excited that you dressed in your best approximation of a farmer’s garb - wet boots, faded pants, a simple, cotton button up. You regret that choice when you hear a gentle “ ahem ” behind you. You catch a whole eyeful of soft grey hair and piercing brown eyes as you whirl around, and as you trip over your suitcases, you think damn , you would happily stab yourself to death with that jaw. It looks like it could cut glass.
“Are ya okay?”
A Kansai accent coupled with that smooth, calm voice? You are very much not okay. Still, you take his hand, heat rushing into your cheeks as you notice how broad his chest is, how warm and rough his palms are, how his eyes seem to be flecked with gold.
You are going to kill your best friend. She sent you to the home of a god .
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A god that doesn’t seem to want to talk or do anything with you at all.
Kita Shinsuke is certainly polite enough. He greets you with a low bow, takes your suitcases from you, ushers you to his pick-up truck. But he answers your questions with measured, short answers - better than Sakusa Kiyoomi with his monosyllabic replies and grunts, but you’re not sure if your very presence has offended him somehow.
“How long have you been a rice farmer?”
“Right after high school”, he checks his side mirror, signals to turn out of the town.
“Oh! Is it your family’s farm?”
“Yes”, he answers shortly, eyes trained ahead.
You deflate, chewing on your bottom lip as you stare out the window. Perhaps he’s just a man of few words, unaccustomed to social interaction.
“My farm’s coming up ahead”, he says as an aside, but you think you hear a tinge of pride in his voice. Not a complete robot then, you think to yourself, amused - but all thoughts flee your head as the truck turns up onto the mountain road.
Fields of yellow gold carved into the slope of the hills, gleaming in the sun.
“It’s beautiful”, you gasp. “Is that all yours?”
He finally smiles.
You’re not sure what’s prettier - the curve of his mouth or the landscape stretching before you. You’re still deciding which when you climb out of the truck, breaking out of your daze when he introduces you to a pink cheeked old lady. “ Obaa-san ”, you bow to her, and she greets you with open arms and a playful pinch of your cheeks.
“Shinsuke - Kaiyo’s friend is so pretty, don’t you think?”
Kita’s smile falls away immediately and he makes a sound that could be interpreted as polite agreement, hefting your suitcases up onto his shoulders with little effort.
A large, sprawling farmhouse sits ahead, clearly built for a large family with a porch that stretches out to both ends. You fall in love with it at first sight. The wooden doors open into a large, open space, furniture neatly arranged around the irori , a traditional sunken hearth. There’s light streaming through the windows, colourful family pictures hanging from the walls. Clean swept floors, no sight of any dust, a warm, inviting kitchen with a large dining table and pots bubbling on the stove.
A house well lived in, well loved.
“It’s very basic”, he states, as he shows you to your bedroom. You think he’s being modest. “Not sure if a city girl like you’ll be used to it.”
“As long as there’s hot water, I’m okay”, you chirp, grinning. Then you wince, backtracking immediately because by the gods, are you an idiot, did you just insult his hospitality and home - “I mean! If there’s no hot water, that’s okay! I’ll shower in the afternoon when it’s warm if that’s okay -”
He just stares at you impassively, no hint of emotion on his face.
“There’s hot water. Shower anytime you want.”
You bury your burning face in the tatami floor, groaning with embarrassment as he strides away.
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Conversation at dinner is carried almost entirely on obaa-san’s shoulders. Kita speaks only when spoken to, leaving the dinner table as soon as his food is done under the pretext of washing up.
“He probably had a long day”, obaa-san whispers to you behind a gnarled palm. “Shin-chan isn’t usually so glum.”
“No worries at all”, you reply with a quick smile, because truly, it’s so easy to be fond of the old lady. “I’m more than happy chatting with you! Why don’t you tell me more about the farm.”
The old lady’s eyes twinkle. “Well, young lady - this farm was run by my husband, Shin-chan’s grandfather, and it really was a blessing that Shinsuke took over the farm when he passed, because his father wanted to sell the land since he’s always intended on staying in the city for his job anyway -”
It’s clear that Kita Shinsuke is the perfect grandson from his obaa-san’s tales, a kind, hardworking man with a heart of gold. You splash cold water onto your face and shiver. Yet - you don’t see any of that. You only see a quiet, stern man - and you highly doubt his reticence towards you is caused by mere shyness, considering the flat look in his eyes when he gazes at you. Did you do something wrong? You barely met the guy today, but already he seems displeased with you. You tried to get Kaiyo to persuade Kita to accept payment for your board at food - money’s not a problem for you, but from what you’ve heard, he flatly refused, saying that a friend of a friend is always welcome to stay with him.
Perhaps he said that out of politeness. Perhaps he truly views you as a burden.
You silently resolve to be as much help around the farm for the next two weeks, at least as repayment for letting you stay with him.
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Your alarm wakes you before sunrise, your bones screaming, your muscles wailing, but you force yourself to roll out of bed anyway. The farm is even more beautiful at dawn, a haze of pale pink and burnt ochre illuminating the fields of endless gold. Pulling on your wet boots in preparation for wading into the paddy fields, you glance up when you hear footsteps approach you.
“Good morning”, you greet Kita with a friendly nod and a bright smile on your face.
“Mornin”, he tilts his cap to you.
You wait and hope for an invitation to the fields. It doesn’t come, so you decide to seize the day anyway. “D’you think I could go out to the fields today? I can do anything you need - gather rice, weeding, I can do it! Please, just let me know what I can do to help.”
His gaze remains impassive. “Rice farmin’ is mostly done by machines. I don’t really need ya help.”
“Oh”, you scruff your shoes on the porch lamely. “Is there anything else I can help with?”
A tight smile, eyebrows perfectly straight. “Don’t worry about it. Enjoy yer holiday”, he murmurs, not wasting a glance at you as he heads out to the fields.
Right, so that was a bust. You spot a white head of hair.
“ Obaa-san, can I help you with lunch?”
Grandma Yumie frowns as she pads onto the porch, glasses sliding down her nose. “Shinsuke didn’t take you out to the fields?”
You try not to pout as you answer, “N-no, he said he didn’t need my help. Maybe I would’ve gotten in the way?”
“Tch, nonsense”, Grandma Yumie replies, clicking her tongue against her teeth. “I’ll speak to him about it tonight.” Disregarding your pleas not to raise anything up with him (because you do not need to give Kita Shinsuke reason to resent you any further), she grins at you puckishly. “How about ya help me prepare lunch, young lady? I’ll teach ya how to prepare Shinsuke’s favourite meal.”
You find yourself swept off to the kitchen by the force of a grandma half a head shorter than you. She has you squeezing out water from blocks of tofu, hand mixing beef and pork with panko crumbs and eggs to form the perfect tofu hamburger.
“It’s the addition of grated ginger and garlic that gives it its fragrance”, she tells you, as if imparting a family secret. “And I don’t tell Shin-chan this because he’s always worried I’m not eating healthy enough, but I always add some mayo to give it extra flavour.”
You beam back at her, raising your pinky finger playfully. “Don’t worry, obaa-san , I’ll never tell.”
She lets out a peal of laughter as she links her finger with yours. “Yer a girl after this old lady’s heart”, she replies, patting your cheek. “Come, let’s set the table, Shinsuke will be so surprised we cooked his favourite meal!”
Kita certainly does not look surprised. In fact, the pucker between his brows seems to deepen, and you’re tempted to warn him that if he goes around looking like that when the wind changes, he’s going to be stuck looking cross for the rest of his life. You keep your stupid mouth clamped shut.
“That’s nice”, he says, devoid of emotion even as he thanks his obaa-san for the food. That’s pretty much all he says for the rest of the meal, stubbornly resisting every attempt Grandma Yumie makes at cajoling him into talking about the harvest, or his schedule to deliver rice to clients in Osaka like Miya Osamu. He just gulps down his food and disappears back to the fields once he’s done.
“He’s probably just tired from working”, you say, as the old lady, once again insists that her Shinsuke is usually far more talkative than that.
“He’s forgotten his manners, that’s what”, she grumbles under her breath.
It’s fine , you think. You can entertain yourself and help around the farm in other ways.
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The first order of business is exploration.
With Grandma Yumie’s blessing, you borrow a bicycle, whooping like a child as you set off, chasing the wind and laughing with the breeze. The farm is huge with hectares and hectares of land, so after a good amount of pedaling, you let the bicycle roll to a stop, turning around to get the lay of the land. Your breath catches in your throat. It doesn’t matter that your host is somewhat unfriendly.You can already feel the exhaustion lifting from your shoulders at the sheer beauty of the sight you’re lucky to even see. You could drown in the sea of gold before you and you would die happy, surrounded by mountains of green.
“Are you lost?”
You peer down. A little boy, with a stalk of grass sticking out of his mouth looks up at you curiously, a little girl with twin pigtails hides nervously behind him.
“Not really, no”, you answer, but smile mischievously. “But perhaps I don’t really want to be found.”
The little boy contemplates your answer and seems to decide that you’re not likely to kidnap him.
“D’you wanna play with me?” he asks, and without waiting for a response, he turns on his heel and drags his little sister off. Bemused, you follow him anyway to his home, not too far a distance away. He tells you his name is Sora and his sister’s name is Aomi, and he’s bored out of his mind and wants someone, anyone to play a little volleyball with him. Aomi, the little sweetheart, just wants to watch.
“Kita-san plays with me”, he proclaims, puffing out his chest as he tosses the ball to you.
“Does he?”, you ask, as you do your level best to bump the ball back in the air.
To your surprise, little Aomi nods. “Kita-san is very kind”, she whispers, watching the ball in the air with wide eyes.
It seems even tiny humans are susceptible to Kita Shinsuke’s charms, but you leave it at that. It takes all your concentration to not be beaten by a seven year old after all. In fact, it takes so much concentration that you don’t notice Kita until he says your name, and you yelp, the ball bouncing off the crown of your head.
“What are ya doin’ here?” he asks as Sora crows, and Aomi cracks a tiny, shy smile.
“Playing, of course! They needed a playmate so I volunteered - “
With a frown, he takes over your place as Sora’s playmate seamlessly. “It’s not nice to get them attached to ya when you’re leavin’ in two weeks.” He doesn’t spare you another glance, and with a wobbly smile you wave goodbye to the children and ride off back to the farmhouse.
He doesn’t mean it, you tell yourself. He’s probably just not blessed with much tact.
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The second order of business is trying to make yourself useful by doing what you do best.
Grandma Yumie perked up when you told her you’re a trained accountant, before launching into a litany of complaints about the difficulties of running a business practically alone. You’re not sure if you’re being hoodwinked into wading waist deep into a swamp of badly done accounts, but at this point you’re so desperate to be of use to your hosts that you hastily agree.
“This is definitely wrong”, you grumble, flipping through a dusty file of accounts. “This is wrong too. And that. Oh my god, this is a mess.”
“Who gave you permission to go through my accounts?”
An icy voice sends a chill down your spine. You don’t even need to look up to know who’s standing at the door.
Tread carefully, the ogre is back.
“Your oba-san asked if I could help check through your accounts. And I found some mistakes! Here - and here! There’s probably more, but I haven’t had time to go through all of them”, you answer, trying to keep your voice light and cheerful, though you suspect the quiver midway through the sentence rather defeats your intent.
Deliberately, he lifts the accounting file out of your hands. “Thank you for your help”, he replies, jaw clenched. “But I think I can manage by myself.”
“Kita-san, please let me help - “
You’re ushered out of the storage room, a firm hand on your back.
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The third order of business is to call your best friend and demand she explain what exactly is going on. Because you don’t get it. You’ve tried your best to be helpful around the house, clean the dishes, sweep the floors, accompany Grandma Yumie wherever she goes, but still, you can’t shake the feeling that Kita resents your very presence in your house. It’s not as if he’s incapable of being pleasant and friendly. When Grandma Yumie sent you into town to help pick up some vegetables for dinner one night, she sent Kita after you to pick you up on the pretext that it’s about to storm. You’re pretty sure it’s her way of trying to get him to spend some time with you, but it gave you the chance to see him be absolutely charming with your own eyes.
“Kita-san! Would you like to bring some fruit back to your obaa-san ?”
“Kita-san! My son passed his exam! Thank you for tutoring him last month.”
You almost jolt out of your seat when you catch sight of his eyes lighting up, crinkling at the corners. You almost get a heart attack when he actually laughs .
The only conclusion you can draw is that he’s upset with you . You’re too much of a chicken to go up to him and demand that he tell you what’s wrong (and honestly, you suspect he’s never going to give you a straight answer even if you torture him by pulling his teeth), so she had better help you figure out the situation, or heaven knows you’ll just cut your holiday short and go home. Nevermind that home for you now is a messy apartment with only one occupant - you, rattling around in its shell. It’s still better than dealing with being iced out without just cause.
She picks up within three rings.
“Miya Kaiyo speaking.”
“You have to tell me why Kita Shinsuke seems to hate my living guts , Kaiyo, or I swear to the gods I’m on the first train back to Osaka tomorrow -”
“Tell me what happened”, she interjects in her professional voice that you’ve come to know all too well, and feeling rather small, you spill your entire, sad tale.
Kita, icing you out the minute you stepped out of the train. Kita, judging you for even daring to play with the neighbour’s kids. Kita, getting mad with you for trying to help with the accounts.
“Oh my god, are you crying?”
You glance down at your hands. They’re wet.
“I just don’t know what I did wrong” you wail, flopping onto your belly like an overdramatic teenager. It’s stupid, you’re a business consultant for huge corporations, for goodness sakes - your boss yells at you, your clients bitch at you, you should be used to it, not feel so badly about someone you barely know taking a dislike to you. But there’s a big difference between clients or even your boss being mean to you - it’s just business, it’s nothing personal, you get it, and someone disliking you for being, well - you. Kaiyo stays silent for a few beats. You can almost hear the gears turning in her head. You can definitely hear Shino squealing in the background, Atsumu laughing away. You’re not sure if you’re a bad person for longing for what your best friend has, but loneliness coupled with your more recent hurt is a double whammy to the chest.
The dam breaks. You start to cry in earnest.
“Hey. Listen to me.” She turns her mom voice on as you sniffle disconsolately into your damp pillow. “Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I tried to set him up with a few women last year, which he didn’t seem to want or feel ready for, but I pressed him anyway.” She laughs softly. “Perhaps it’s my fault. Whatever it is, from the sounds of it - it’s not you. ”
You wipe away your snot with your sleeve, sniffle again. “You really think so?”
The warmth in her voice soothes you as she answers - “D’you think we’d have stayed best friends if you’re so crappy you can make someone hate you at first sight?”
“That doesn’t even make sense”, you argue, but you laugh anyway, adding - “Well, sometimes I question your taste, considering who you’re still married to”. There’s an indignant noise, and Atsumu yells - “Yer on speaker, woman, I heard that!” even as Kaiyo giggles, shushing him with what sounds like a kiss.
“Look - I’ll call Kita, if it doesn’t get better, yeah? Remind him that you’re my friend, so he has to be nice to you!”
She hangs up laughing when you yell that that’s precisely the reason he hates your guts right now. Miya Kaiyo is going to be the death of you.
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There is no fourth order of business.
Not when Grandma Yumie seems determined to pursue her own course of action.
“Shinsuke.” He glances up from clearing his bowl. “You should bring our guest out to see the fields. I think it’s impolite that she hasn’t even been out with you once.”
“There’s no space on the tractor”, he demurs, but despite being tiny and frail, her iron will wins out over her grandson, and with her refusal to take no for an answer, you find yourself perched on the combine harvester beside a glum Kita Shinsuke at the crack of dawn the next day.
“Thank you for taking me along with you”, you extend an olive branch to him hesitantly.
“It’s no trouble at all”, he murmurs, but the flat look in his eyes suggests that it very much is a heck lot of trouble. With that, he seems determined to ignore you even though your thigh is pressed up against his, and you’re left feeling as if your peace offering were slapped to the ground. You just sigh. You are not looking forward to spending a long, painfully awkward morning with him, but you’ll get through this.
You’re not going to let him get to you.
The combine harvester is loud, chewing up yellow stalks with its teeth, spitting the dry grains into its belly. It rumbles on through the fields, and after a period of sustained silence from your companion, you train your eyes upon the sky, idly watching the clouds float by. It’s heaven for a city girl like you, so accustomed to grey skies, grey buildings, grey faces passing you all day. The earth a canvass for the sun, pink and orange and gold streaking across clear blue skies.
“It’s gorgeous”, you murmur almost reverently before you can stop yourself.
“It’s alright”, you hear Kita say, words almost a scoff.
It’s funny how a sunrise of all things, is what makes you snap.
“What’s your problem?” You whirl on him indignantly, uncaring when he hisses as the combine harvester rocks dangerously from side to side. “It’s literally a sunrise, I mean - I don’t know what’s your problem with me, but surely it won’t kill you to admit that this right in front of your nose is bloody well gorgeous , okay? You’re so lucky you get to see it everyday.”
You’re not even surprised to meet a wall of silence from your companion as you simmer down in your seat.
“I don’t have a problem with ya.”
“Could’ve fooled me, from the way you were acting ever since I came.” You’re already mentally calculating what’s the next train you can get on when Kita speaks again.
“I’m sorry”, he says. You’re not quite sure if the pink flush on his cheeks is from sheer embarrassment or the reflection of the sun's flares. “I...wasn’t happy because I thought Kaiyo was trying to thrust another one of her friends on me, and grandma got in on it and -” he heaves a sigh. “I’m just not ready for that.”
“Look”, you reply firmly. “I’m just here for a holiday. I would pay you to assure you that I really am here for a break away from the city, but Kaiyo said you didn’t want my money. How d’you want me to prove I don’t intend stealing your heart and eating it like some yokai ?”
“A yokai ”, he repeats, deadpan. “Eating my heart.”
“I’m sure it’s very tasty but I’ll pass, thank you very much.”
He actually laughs at your retort. Oh gods, he’s cute when he does that . You command your traitorous heart to sit and pay no attention to the god in human form pressed against you, but your eyes betray you. It’s hard not to stare at him when his mirth makes him look boyish, a decade younger at least.
“I haven’t treated you fairly, have I”, he says when he finally stops laughing.
“No, you haven’t”, you reply bluntly, and he surprises you again by sticking his hand out to you.
“Forgive me for being so rude”, he says, mouth twitching into a smile. “Let’s start again. Friends?”
“Friends”, you agree, taking his hand as the sun rises overhead, casting its light to bless your new bond.
Perhaps you might enjoy your holiday after all.