"I'm listening," I tried to calmly sip on my water.
"Let's go to the bar," Tadashi stood up stoically; as if he was sober all of a sudden.
I followed the towering figure to a part of the house I had never been before. The walls of the house were painted and decorated to suit the dweller of the area. The south wing was showered with an array of grays with many hi-tech furniture and decoration. Hiro's part of the house seemed minimalistic and relaxing, yet high functioning.
The kitchen and main meeting room were part of the less used west wing. Their parents used to stay on the second floor, but it had been unused since their hospital stays. The walls were mostly the shades of red and were decorated with Victorian style white and gold furniture, and heavy curtains.
The main living room and the center of the house were beige and full of ceramic accompaniment. The garage and their outdoor areas were mostly white and light blue. The bottom of the pool and tennis court were of the same color. But they had installed LED lights with remote-controlled color alteration feature.
Tadashi's quarter was on the northern part of the house. Upon entering the north wing, I saw four painted masks gawking at me from the ceiling. The whole place felt like a different world.
The common theme was traditional Japanese art. It looked like it was made to be a part of the "Kill Bill" movie set. We headed into a room with a rice paper sliding door. The room smelled of bamboo and booze.
I observed the bar and liquor cabinet in the dimly lit room. There were rows of ceramic Sake bottle with the corks still intact.
"Why are we here?" I stood awkwardly with a glass of water still on my hand.
"Take a seat," Tadashi pointed at a bar stool, 'Hiro thinks I can't handle my alcohol.'
"I thought you wanted to make a deal," I took a seat.
"Yes, that can wait. We have time, unless you want to go back to sleep."
"No, I'm fine."
"So, pick your poison," he offered me as he poured himself a cup.
"Oh, I don't drink."
He raised an eyebrow at me and raised both of his hands, as if in disgust, "okay, that's cool. No judgement."
His eyes and demeanor suggested otherwise.
"Fine, I'll have half of a cup. I haven't had anything to eat other than this glass of water. I don't wanna upset my stomach," I fiddled with the rim of my cup.
"Why didn't you say so? I'll prepare some cold soba and we'll start our discussion."
The stale air of silence built up as I silently fidgeted with my thumbs. Tadashi had busied himself in the backroom of the bar. I could hear plates and spoons clanking. The long pants helped me to retain heat as the air conditioner blasted cold air to keep the liquors cool. I had clumsily left the USB containing an important document in my apartment. I wasn't sure whether it was a curse or blessing to have Tadashi found it.
I wanted to leave the room, but I knew that it would solve nothing. And honestly, I was powerless. My heart started to pound out of my chest again. I was worried of what he might ask me to do or if he was planning to punish me for withholding the information. My mind raced erratically as the palms of my hand got clammy.
"Sorry for the wait," he pushed through the curtain while holding two trays.
The noodle was propped on a bamboo tray with a cup of dipping sauce on the side. He had sprinkled thin strips of seaweed and white sesame seeds on top. It smelled homey and filling, as if it was inviting me to dig in. He started to slurp his food the second he finished serving it. I went along and dove in too.
"Wow, did you make it all from scratch?" I politely covered my mouth as I chewed.
"Of course, it's hard to find a good soba around here. But this is the only thing I knew how to cook well," he continued to slurp.
"Thanks for cooking," I shyly said.
He nodded without averting from his supper. Instead, he pushed two empty cups and a lacquer bottle of Sake for me to serve. I took a sip from my cup and it tasted surprisingly different from any other alcohol I had tried. He picked up the change in my facial expression and smiled to himself with satisfaction.
We finished our meal and I offered to help him with the dirty dishes, but he pushed my hands away. Tadashi proceeded to carry the trays back and spent a couple of minutes in the sink before retreating back to his place behind the bar counter.
"Drink up," he poured us another round.
"Aren't you worried about Hiro stumbling upon us?" I looked around.
"Why are you so scared? It's not like you're really dating anyway. Are you worried of making him jealous?" he rested his chin on his hand.
"That's not what I meant! I was talking about the USB. He didn't know about it," I folded my arms.
"Oh, this?" he pulled out the USB from his pocket, "don't worry about it. He had only been here once."
"How come?" I took a small sip off my cup.
"Well, you see. He might be tough and all, but deep inside he's a scared little baby. The masks at the entrance of my hall prevented him from entering."
"How come?"
"We used to play hide and seek as a kid and he hid in one of our father's mask cabinet. He had gotten locked inside with them. By the time I had gotten him out, he was crying and thrashing the masks away. I had forgotten about it, but he started to cry at the sight of it during our grandma's funeral a year after.
"I decided to hang some of them up ever since. And it had been proven to work, he never bothered me when I'm here," he smiled proudly to himself.
"That's a dick move."
"And you're better than me because you hid the truth from him? From us? What were you gonna do with that USB?"
"Stop it, it's not like that. I wasn't going to leak the information or anything. I just didn't know what to do when I saw it."
"So, you just smuggled a file that proved my mother's guilt with you outside this house?"
"What?" a third voice emerged from the sliding door.
"Hiro?" my eyes teared up.
"What was he talking about Ren?" my friend asked from an unlit corner of the room.
"Please, I can explain."
"Dammit," Tadashi whispered as he turned to face a wall.
"Talk," our intruder demanded.