Quality Assurance
Nyomi
Fast, Hiro moved toward the nearest station, where the honey-bourbon glaze still sat in its small bowl beside pieces of testkaraage—Japanese fried chicken, cut into bite-size chunks, marinated in soy, ginger, and garlic, then dusted in starch and fried until the coating turned shatter-crisp while the meat stayed juicy and tender inside.
And Hiro was on his way to fill his mouth with all of it.
I headed over too. "Hiro, don't touch anything."
Too late.
He'd already grabbed a piece of karaage, swiped it through the glaze, and popped it into his mouth.
Damn it.
His eyes closed. A sound came out of him that was low and borderline obscene.
"Mmmm." He chewed slowly. "Nyomi. What the fuck are you about to do to us?"
"The goal is to surprise you, so don’t try anything else—"
“You’re crazy.” He was already reaching for another piece of karaage.
"Hiro!" I lunged toward him, but he danced away with surprising grace for a man his size, the second piece of chicken already disappearing between his lips.
“Are you freaking serious right now?” I placed my hands on my hips. “No more.”
"This is unbelievable." He spoke around the chewing with zero shame. "The heat at the end—it builds. And what’s that. . .bourbon?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you use bourbon?”
“Because my grandmother is from the South and she’s the one who taught me how to cook. And there. . .they put bourbon in food the way most people put salt in theirs.”
He licked the glaze off his thumb slowly. Then he looked at the bowl again—calm, confident, already planning the next theft. “When am I going to meet your grandmother?”
“So, you can bother her about another cocktail party? No.” I chuckled. “You’re not meeting my grandmother.”
“After this war, I will be visiting her. Word spreads. I know where she lives. I’ve got a plate and a plan.”
I blinked. “What does that mean?”
“There’s been talk about her cooking for her security team.”
“Talk?”
Hiro nodded like this was national intelligence. “Lots of talk about peach cobbler and cornbread.”
“Okay. Stop right there.” I pointed at him. "I know one thing. You all better not bother my grandmother or I'm going to be fighting every last one of you."
He quirked his brows.
I pointed at him harder. "And I will win. Because I fight dirty and none of you will see it coming."
