Chapter 11 - 51: Lunch Date

Parting her lips to prepare an investigation over his unusual choice of words, her stomach snarls-- alerting them of her insidiously demanding hunger.

Really belly?! You pick the worst times to tell me you need food!

Placing a hand on her stomach and coughing into the side of an open fist, having completely forgotten what she was going to say, "My lord."

Lowering her head into a courteous bow, "Would you excuse me?"

Frowning as she stares at the grass, hoping he isn't upset with her, mint green socks enter her line of sight. 

"Would you like to join me for soup?"

Lifting her head at the heart-thumpingly unanticipated offer, she finds a raised and bent left arm.

Slow on the uptake to nod, she forces back a toothy smile of cheery anxiety at the thought of getting to touch him even longer. 

Stepping to wrap her arm around his, they turn in sync to face the mountain.

As they walk through the luscious garden beaming with life, she steals sideways glances of his face as he guides her smoothly to the door. 

Caressing silk that covers the sinewy muscles of his arm, her tactile touch memorizes every curve.

Walking slower than usual, she hopes to make this moment last.

He's not rushing to get inside! He doesn't mind?

As they reach the arched, wooden door set in greenery-covered stone, she notices the door hasn't opened for them on approach. Rather than using his power, Tsukiyomi parts from her to physically pull the door open for her.

Keep your cool: this is what men are supposed to do. It's nothing special.

Gesturing for her to enter before him, he allows her to pass; grateful for the chance to get inside first, she gets a wide eyed, cheesing grin out.

Calming down, refraining a happy dance, she turns to face him in time to catch his backside as he pulls the door shut. 

EEEEK! I can't believe it! I'm so happy! He feels and smells and looks so good!

Biting her bottom lip when he faces her, she looks down to take off her shoes. Stepping out of her sandals, eager to be barefoot again, she picks them up by the straps; her eyes shoot open in terror when he reaches for them.

Keeping them from his grasp, "Oh, you don't want to touch these, my lord, they're filthy!"

Umeko cringes when he simply straightens with his arms at his sides and proceeds to watch her without a word or a blink.

After a brief moment of watching him stare silent and unflinching, she decides to just hand them over. When he touches the wooden, platform shoes with a blink, they get the strength to jump from her hand.

Shrieking at the energetic momentum, her jaw drops when they march in tandem down the hall, What the bumble fu--!

Fixing her face, she turns back to Tsukiyomi then bows her head, "Thank. . .you. . .Tsukiyomi-sama."

He nods before raising his left arm as a support for her. 

I think I'm the one that died because I'm in Heaven!

In a casual stride down the illuminated, stone hall to the last wooden door on the left, time finally catches up to them when they arrive at the storeroom.

Aw. . .poop. Guess I gotta let go now.

Unenthusiastically releasing him, she bows at the waist when he turns her way; she successfully hides the way her lips instinctively slide between her teeth around him. Distracted by the conflicting emotions swarming her insides, the door opens on its own and she stands tall.

Glancing at him after a short while to see why he hasn't moved, Tsukiyomi gestures for her to enter ahead. 

Gushing with glee from his behavior as she enters the room, candles perched in black metal racks along the walls ignite in a WHOOSH. Further illuminating a roofless, beautifully organized room with lulling sunlight pouring in, she pats bronze cheeks to keep from giving away her excitement.

Reminding her lips to settle, she innocently faces him in time for the large door to shut behind his graceful gait towards her. With her back to endless shelves and standing, wooden cabinets storing dishes, bottles, sacks and jars, she's just barely capable of making eye contact before she feels her mouth twitching.

To keep from grinning like a hopeless kid over her first crush, she spins on her heel to face the back of the room lined with a rectangular buffet table with empty, glittering flatware. 

Turning her sight up, cinnamon eyes sparkle at the late afternoon sky filled with puffy clouds as it transitions from through summer's blues, golds, and pinks.

Yay! The sun's barely moved. 

Relieved they haven't lost too much time on just getting there, the aroma filling her nose entices an already ferocious appetite; intoxicating her senses the closer she gets, the delightful feast is laid out across the shortest of three tables in the room. 

Admiring the square, alternating orange and green floor cushions surrounding it, the short-legged table closest to them with the capacity to feed eight is made up for only them.

Centered on the round, wooden table is a large, black stone pot sitting atop a matching stove; filled with the emanating glow of burning embers, the entire setup rests on a square, lava stone slab big enough to protect the dark wood underneath.

Beside the steaming, savory soup set is a rectangular, bamboo tray; with handles large enough to hold a long copper ladle and four stacked, black bowls, spoons and neatly folded napkins accompany them. Like a delicious food rainbow, an array of black bowls filled with white and purple rice, various pickled vegetables and fruits, different smoked fishes, and a variety of pastes neatly surround the centerpiece.

Nearest the edge she decides to hover towards is a lava stone plate supporting an elegantly tall handled, copper teapot and four cups with the same ornate embellishments. 

An oblong, white marble platter is decorated with carrots, radishes, and other vegetables carved into flowers enshrouded with aromatic greens; placed delicately a top the bed of a carefully crafted garden-bed sits apple and cucumber swans facing an appetizing pile of glistening, lightly misted, purple plums. 

Umeko approaches the table with her hands on her cheeks, inhaling the new and familiar fragrances; amazed eyes dance over the colorful display artistically put together from the tiniest of details while her mouth salivates.

I'm going to die if I can't taste every-single-thing right now! Pfft, I won't even feel bad taking bites out of the little animals. I gotta make sure I eat with manners like--.

"Dig in." 

By the time her eyes land upon his approaching beauty, she catches his side profile as he scans the table; enthralled by the magnetizing sight, her daze is jumbled when he suddenly kneels onto the cushion closest to her.

Swallowing hard as her knees tremble, she takes a slow and steadying breath, "But, my lord, what may I do for you first?"

Unsure of what to do, anxious about being moments from sharing their first meal, her mind floods with every unsolicited memory of Ryu's evil will whilst in control of a magnificent specimen.

Shuddering, needing to do something to keep busy, she reaches for the teapot like a good servant until he instructs her.

Ivory fingertips graze the back of her toffee hand, catching her completely off guard as she looks up his arm to see his face a bit closer to hers than she was ready for, "I invited you." 

Touched by his words yet tormented by his ability to steal her breath in an instant, she shies away from his radiating warmth with a nervously aroused shiver.

Is this his way of showing me he wants my hand? NO! Umeko, you sound crazy. It's food. Just a meal. You'll probably have to clean up afffffter-- since you're a servant. 

Exhaling calmly, she watches him return to his cushion as she kneels into green fabric that sits her with him on her right and the teapot to the left.

HA! I don't care! I'll even clean the chamber pots if he wants me to because He wants to spend time with me! I can't wait to learn as much as possible about him. Oh no! What if he thinks I'm boring or dumb?!

Fidgeting in the cushion to sit with her legs closed and bent because of her dress, the movement of his legs crossing in his orange cushion under the table draws her in. Trying to fold her hands in her lap but unable to get comfortable, she shifts to her butt with her legs bent to the side away from him. 

Tugging the next cushion closer to shield her calves and socked feet from the cool, gray stone floor, she notices him staring at her.

Smiling shyly and quietly clearing her throat, she stops squirming to face the table with her hands folded against the smooth, oiled grain. Chewing the inside of her cheek, hoping she didn't look silly, Umeko's eyebrows rise in suspense when Tsukiyomi waves his hand at the table.

Curiously enthralled features light up. Gripping the table's edge with both hands to lean in when the dishes take on a life of their own.

Oooooo! He's cooler than winter! Swifter than wind! Preciouser than pearls! No wonder Sane said he'd drink what's under his toenails. Vishnu, I'd drink what's under his--.

Stating, "Fish Ball Noodle Soup," the ladle vibrates before rising to dip into the stone hotpot as two wooden bowls float to it. 

Umeko bites her bottom lip through a smile at every delightful syllable uttered from his kissable lips as the servings gently land in front of them. 

"Smoky black tea." 

The teapot floats and fills two cups that rise to it; hot drinks glide over while the utensils stand to begin their show. Spoons, napkins, and silver chopsticks dance in sync across the table before laying down near their food and losing all sign of life. 

Tapping at the orange, square napkin woven with green-leafed vines, Umeko jumps slightly at the sound of his firm, cool voice, "Water."

Twisting slightly at the sound of shuffling behind her, a cabinet door swings open. A clay pitcher floats to the water spout and the lever drops to fill it perfectly-- not wasting a drop. Joining the table with topped off, clay cups, one hovers near her face until she wraps her fingers around it.

Whispering in awe as the lifeless weight sits in her grasp upon contact, "Woooah." Examining the cup inside out, finding nothing out of the ordinary (albeit all being un-ordinary), she looks at Tsukiyomi. 

Watching him sip tea with closed eyes, she follows suit by drinking in cold water. Setting her cup down, his voice commands, "Music."

Umeko glances around the room, wondering what spectacle will present itself as he sets his cup down. The sound of plucked strings drift down, gathering her attention to her left; staring at the back of the longer than it is wide room, two instruments float in the sky.

Plucking and strumming themselves, she points, "I've seen that one before!" 

Holding the table's edge between cupped thumbs and fingers, she closes her eyes as the enchanting sound kisses her spirit. Brown eyes shoot open with a huge grin and she faces Tsukiyomi, possibly catching the glimpse of a tiny smile before his spoonful of soup obstructs what her eyes think she saw.

"There was a woman in my village with the two-string one. I think she called it an Erhu (aar·hoo)? Anyways, her family was killed by. . ." 

I don't know if it's okay that I know Ryu is the reason they died since no one believed grandma!

Recovering quickly from a brief pause as though she had to remember, "The volcano." 

Nodding slowly until she works up the speed to a confidently seated pose, "When she was a kid, they settled in Aijou-chou." 

Flaring her nostrils to focus on breathing rather than the pain of remembering her beloved grandmother, she manages to inform him, "That was my grandma's village, and how we all knew each other." 

Caressing the table with her right hand, "People that survived always told stories about the odd and powerful tools from places across the lands that were destroyed."

Cocking her head to the side, staring off into space as she reflects from an adult's perspective on all the elders' recollections, "Come to think of it."

Talking more to herself than Tsukiyomi, furrowing her brow, "Aijou sounded like a place filled with rejects and criminals."

Glancing quickly to a quiet Tsukiyomi enjoying his meal, she shakes her head, "I never thought I'd hear that sound again. It died with her ten winters ago."

Cupping the short, wide teacup with both hands, "Thank you for sharing this with me." 

Sighing softly, she lets go of the cup to grab a hold of her spoon. Bringing a spoonful of steaming broth with a single fish ball to her lips, she blows on the unique piece of food. Touching the fluid with her tongue, cautiously tasting it, she hesitates slurping it down to ask, "What's the other one?"

Licking her lips, savoring a new flavor as she hopes he answers, Umeko quickly consumes it; the movement of Tsukiyomi dabbing his lips with a napkin momentarily stalls her from consuming three more spoonfuls like a greedy little monkey.

"The guqin (kooch-ih-n)."

Tsukiyomi's eyelids lower when she freezes upon being caught greedily taking in another scoop. 

Smiling at the savory, juicy pop of a divinely spiced fill ball running over her tongue, she gives a return nod to the stately being. Listening intently as she continues to eat, "I spent time among the Zhao (Jow) family; this song was one of the many gifts I brought back."

They must've been nice people to accept a blue-haired stranger. Then again, who in their right mind would turn away a guy that looks like him?

"Was Sanemaru with you?"

Pursing her lips to the side and wrinkling her forehead when his platinum blue gaze wanders to examine her, she throws what she's learned from the chatty steed to the back of her mind before going in for more soup. 

Hoping he's none the wiser, she uses her peripheral vision to watch him place pickled vegetables on top of his purple rice using perfectly sanded chopsticks, "Many years later, after I returned from this land."

Tsukiyomi nods ever so slightly then drinks water as the natural light around him mystically makes his pearlescent skin glow, "The Zhao family and their reign had gone from power by that time."

Shaken by his words, she blinks repeatedly while repeating his statement in her head, I can't believe this is really happening. I don't want to be anywhere else!

Tsukiyomi and Umeko lose track of time, conversing and eating over talks of his travels and her childhood while the sun lowers into early evening hours. After their meal, he turns completely in his cushion with folded legs to face her.

Plainly with a blank face, "Your hand." 

GASP! Already?!

Nervously wiping her mouth and hands clean on her napkin before laying it down beside her empty bowl, she turns in her cushion and does as requested. 

Sitting with a bent left elbow as she leans against the table to keep her legs together, her right hand hangs at the wrist. 

Bronze cheeks cave into pursed lips as cinnamon eyes widen when he lowers his head to look at his lap, Is this some sort of "feed then fook" ritual? Maybe he's going to let me hold it. . .? You got this, Umeko. You got this.

Umeko's tongue grazes her bottom lip while he loosens the belt securing something in his pants. 

Refusing her lids to rest into a blink, she cannot move; unraveling the fabric around something small enough to fit in his palm, a flawless, silver cuff shimmers in the intimate, ambient light under a dusky, candlelit sky. 

Raising it between them, he slides the cuff onto her wrist and it's a perfect fit. 

Rebinding his belt with nothing nefarious visible to her, he anticlimactically returns the thick fabric to its usual, crisp appearance.

Bringing her wrist closer to her face, she admires the bracelet closely. Thinking of the many gifts he has given her already, she struggles through her feelings on why he's suddenly being so physical and generous.

If he gives me anything else I won't be able to stop myself from literally jumping him! Does he care about me. . .? No, there's no way. . .he still calls me human.

Holding out her cuffed wrist, "Tsukiyomi-sama, I. . .this is too much. I can't accept it."

Cursing herself in her own head for being so modest, she grimaces while awaiting him to take it back. 

Instead, he wraps his fingers around the cuffed wrist and the warmth of his smooth skin connecting with hers radiates throughout her arm. Guiding her hand back to her chest, he delicately presses her cuffed wrist to her heart; she fights back the tears of an overwhelming amount of happiness that tries to drown her.

Is this really just for me?! I've never seen anything so shiny!

Eyeing the cuff closer when Tsukiyomi removes his fingers, she caresses the side not pressed to her chest. 

Calling a plum to his hand, he gestures to her as an offering. 

Holding her hands up, kindly, "No, thank you, my lord," she smiles, unable to stop stroking her bracelet. 

He opens his mouth to gently blow on the plum before wiping it clean with his napkin. 

With more enthusiasm than she intended to display after wishing she could feel the heat from his breath along the tight curves of her skin, "You like plums, too?"

Staring at the supple fruit as he examines it in his grasp, "In all my travels, I have found the darker the fruit, the sweeter the juice."

Delicate lips brush the fruit's smooth skin as he speaks, "And the plum is the only one I crave."

Feeling as though she's a giant, melting hunk of fat, her body swoons until the table's edge digs into her ribcage.

. . .Oh Tsuki. . .

Umeko shivers when the sound of his teeth pierces the richly colored skin with a sucking slurp, sending a jolt down her spine and into her core. 

Purple juice dribbles down the left corner of his mouth, trailing its way to his chin as the sound of him sucking juice from a perfectly ripe fruit makes her core clench. 

Without thinking, her thumb slides up the staining liquid along his pearlescent flesh until ivory fingers engulf her cuffed wrist.

Their eyes lock and Umeko's heart thumps into infinity, bubbling her blood down into her groin fast enough to get light-headed. 

Leading her arched thumb up the sticky trail, he brings her textured pad closer to the pink, velvety curve of his bottom lip.

Swallowing hard, disregarding her body's need for air, she lives in suspense for his next move. 

Tsukiyomi glances from her wrist to a deepening blue sky speckled with the brightest of stars furthest from the sun's light as it approaches a distant horizon.

Within the completion of her gasping breath, he releases her, "Excuse me." 

Standing with gray shoes materializing around his socks, "Do not worry yourself with cleaning."

Nodding once without looking at her, "Good night."

Before she has the chance to object or question him, Tsukiyomi is out the door with its wooden body shutting swiftly behind him. 

  . . .Did I do something wrong?. . .