He doesn’t immediately comment on it, seating himself with his back to that side while I drop to the floor opposite him, both of us now sitting side-on to the wide door. Equally free to leave. Assuming the supernaturals outside don’t stop us.
He clears his throat pointedly when I cross my legs, pointing to the way he’s neatly furled his own legs beneath him.
I stare at him for a moment before I pull my legs under my butt, prepared to honor his customs and take up the same kneeling position.
I expect him to say something about my blindfold. I’m very surprised he hasn’t tried to remove it or ask me about it already.
Strife prowls around and between us before he settles down on his haunches on my right, his claws nowhere in sight.
“I can provide newtatamimats for the damaged portion of the floor, if you wish it to be repaired,” Ryuji says.
I don’t pretend to recognize the word “tatami,” but it’s clear he’s talking about the woven matting. “I would appreciate that.”
“Good,” he replies. “The new mats should last you a month. I don’t expect you will enjoy them longer than that.”
Somehow, I don’t think we’re talking about mats any longer. Is he trying to tell me he agrees to us staying?
I carefully phrase my response. “A month is as long as they would be needed.”
“Good.”
Miku returns with a black tray on which there are two black tea cups along with a teapot that’s painted with an intricate mountain design that continues all around its surface.
She pours the tea and then takes up a kneeling position behind Ryuji and to his left, where I can see her.
He sips from the steaming liquid, somehow without appearing to burn his tongue, and then sets down his cup, all deliberate movements before he exhales heavily, his chest deflating.
“Your presence here will raise questions for my family,” he says, meeting my eyes. “Questions that might cause conflict.”
I chew my lip. “I understand the difficulty of your choice.” I reach for my cup and then veer to the teapot instead, my fingertips brushing its surface. Since we seem to be talking in metaphors…
“This is beautiful artwork,” I say, my fingertip following a path through the air around the pot. “A thing of beauty created with care. But if I were to break it, I could use the pieces as weapons.” I pull my hands back to my lap, keeping my tone even. “This thing of beauty could become a weapon with which I could take life.”
When he tilts his head, the dark strands of his hair fall across his eyes. “Are you a broken thing, Veda Nostra?”
“Daughter of Assholes,” I finish for him. “My father believes, strongly enough to try to kill me, that I will fill the streets with the blood of dark magic creatures.”
His eyebrows rise. “Then you are the hand that holds the broken thing.”
“A broken heart,” I say, even though I can’t feel the full force of my heart’s feelings since the keeper took the power in it.
If he hadn’t… I wonder if I’d be sitting here now, drinking tea with a creature of the light and trying to forge a peace agreement. I wonder if the full force of my broken heart wouldn’t have driven me to bloodshed already.
“Will you?” Ryuji asks. “Fill the streets with blood?”
He gives no indication of his feelings about his question. His face is so blank, I can only assume he is a master of masking his thoughts when he wants to be.
“In my father’s words: I will incite a war among dark creatures that even the forces of light would never wish for.” I lean forward a little. “So I supposemyquestion to you is this: If that were true, and dark creatures were to die, will you care?”
He breaks my gaze to consider the steam rising from his tea. His forefinger taps his thigh, the lightest motion, as he appears to consider his response.
He raises his eyes to mine once more. “I will not.”
“Then I ask that you don’t disturb the broken pieces or stop the hand that uses them.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. “What of the pieces that can be mended?”
I start to shake my head but he leans forward to run his finger lightly over the pot. “With a steady hand and the right mix of lacquer and gold, even the smallest shards may once again form a thing of beauty.”
