The first thing he saw was the food on the kitchen island. A plate on a ceramic warmer, steam still curling from underneath the cover. There was a note beside it, folded once—
Surprise. I'm here a night early.
But I know what you need is rest the most, so...talk tomorrow?
Love you.
How easily she wrote those words. And it was almost as if she had gone to A School for Doctor's Wives, with how she knew and understood that people like him, on nights like this...
The last thing they needed was someone to ask him about how his day went.
Nights like this, they just had to pass.
And Katherine...
The fact that she seemed to instinctively understand what he needed was hard for him to process, and so he turned his attention to something else—
Ah, right.
Kazeyuki lifted the cover.
Gyudon.
The rice was still warm, the beef glistening with a sauce that smelled the way his grandmother's kitchen in Uji used to smell on the nights his mother would take him there as a boy. The onions were sliced thin and caramelized to the particular shade of amber that meant someone had stood over a pan and watched them carefully, because gyudon onions burned if you looked away for even a moment.
He hung his coat on the back of a chair and sat down.
The first bite was good. Not perfect — the dashi was slightly too sweet, the way it always was when someone used a YouTube recipe instead of memory — but good because of who had made it.
Kazeyuki found himself studying the note as he slowly ate. Her handwriting was atrocious. The thought nearly had his lips twitch. The letters tilted at competing angles, theyinyouhad a tail that invaded the line below, and the dot over theiinI'mwas more of a small, enthusiastic slash. Penmanship-wise, it was almost as if she were the doctor between them.
Once done, he slowly folded the note and placed it inside his pocket before washing the dishes. And as he wiped his hand dry with the dishtowel, without turning around—
"How long do you plan on watching me?"
Gasp.
He turned just as she stepped into sight, a sheepish expression on her face. She had changed into what he assumed was what she normally wore to sleep: a college sweater and sweatpants, both seemingly two sizes larger than her actual size. Her red hair was loose and slightly tangled at the ends, and she was standing at the edge of the kitchen in bare feet.
"Sorry," she said in a small voice.
"What are you apologizing for?"
He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. Katherine took a step closer without seeming to realize she had.
"Disturbing your peace?"
She was looking up at him the way she always did, chin tilted because of the height difference between them, and her eyes were still a little puffy. He suspected she had been happy-crying before bed.
"On the contrary." He let his arms uncross. One hand found the counter's edge beside him. "Peace was what I regained with my dinner. Thank you for that."
Her face lit up. "You like it?"
"Very much."
"I know other Japanese recipes," she shared.
"I look forward to tasting them all."