Some truths are meant to be understood through reason; some mysteries are given away before the question is even formed. Just as intuition guides the hand, certain things are only meant to be felt. Yet, just as profoundly, some feelings can never be adequately conveyed by words.
"Here is your order, My Lord," the server announced, placing the dishes with practiced grace. "Do call us if anything more is needed."
"Thank you very much," Xio responded, his faint smile and soft tone perfectly maintaining the reserved composure of Lan Suji. The delicious, warm aroma of the food filled the air, minimizing the immediate risk of his disguise being exposed.
The soup arrived in elegant half-blue marble, half-dark wood bowls. The dry fish, meticulously split, rested on a glass tray. The rice, pearl-like and steaming, was speckled with tiny pieces of carrot, surrounding a central, perfectly placed mound of soya bean. Small, sculpted carrot roses adorned the warm dishes.
The dragon fruits were works of art, sliced thin and arranged to form a large, vibrant crimson rose, topped with a single cherry. The dessert, a popular specialty, was a cold, soft blend of dragon fruit, milk, and nuts—a juicy, pink indulgence.
Kirihito's mouth parted in amazement. His thin, serpentine tongue watered so intensely that a stubborn drop escaped and landed on the dark wood table.
"Careful. It's yours to eat. Just don't act weird. Clean up your face," Xio said gently, already starting to eat. The food was excellent, and he was confident the meal would quickly dissolve Kirihito's foul mood.
Kirihito wiped his face with a quick, unfocused hum, his eyes tracing the delicate presentation of the desserts.
"It looks... too tasty. But... if Wèi eats it, then those will be ruined," Kirihito said, his voice tinged with childish admiration and, for the first time, a peculiar fear of destroying something beautiful.
The Inner Voice growled, impatient and deep: Oh, please! Stop your drama and eat that, Princess! I'm hungry too. Or I'm taking the control, and you won't get it back until the day ends. I'll ruin and also make today's adventure more fun.
Kirihito's smile instantly evaporated. No, nono!! Don't ruin Wèi's beautiful day! Or Butterfly will never feed me! Wèi will eat those!
Xio paused his chewing, observing the swift shift in Kirihito's expression—from admiration to sudden, silent seriousness. He began his silent analysis: He's a first-class Special Grade yokai, curse type. Could he be talking with a secondary spiritual entity? Why is that entity suddenly so controlled that no men nearby are being affected? I'm also totally fine. And is that entity what sometimes causes Wèi's character to switch?
The entity, or whatever resided within him, noticed Xio's probing mind. It warned Kirihito, its voice deep and low: Your weird behavior is making him suspect. You will not tell him about me, nor the Soul Garden location.
Kirihito froze, mid-chew, his focus sharp. His lips were stained red with the dragon fruit dessert he had just tasted. He was tense but fearless, only serious.
Xio held Kirihito's blindfolded gaze. What is he thinking now? He looks serious, which is unusual. He usually only becomes sadistically calculating when plotting murder.
Wèi knows... no Special Grade yokai is allowed to disclose their Soul Garden location... nor other deep things, Kirihito thought, his internal voice suddenly calm and more mature than his external persona.
The background music and soft chatter continued, yet in that suspended moment, the rest of the restaurant seemed to fade away. Perhaps I need to learn more about Special Grades by observing Wèi... even though he is nothing like any other yokai I have ever seen, Xio thought, sighing internally.
He struggled to break the tension without drawing unwanted attention. He felt like a paranoid thief, constantly glancing toward the doorway to ensure no Yin Lan or Hàngwō juniors arrived.
Meanwhile, Kirihito's private conflict resumed.
The Dark Voice said smoothly, mocking him: You're a tiny child with no brain, so poor me has to remind you of these things always. It chuckled deep in its throat.
Was Wèi... a child when Wèi met you that you... always call Wèi a child? Kirihito suddenly asked internally, his voice filled with unfamiliar longing.
He was desperately trying to recall what he had forgotten, or perhaps what he had willingly relinquished.
The Dark Voice hummed and sighed dramatically, then conceded a tiny fragment of information: I know everything, but I will speak less, or the game will become easy. It paused. Yes. You were a child. Helpless and fragile.
Kirihito's eyes widened beneath the red ribbon blindfold, the silk tightening around his temples. This was the first concrete detail he had gained about his past—a small piece of himself, detached from the unknown, confusing revenge mindset he'd carried since waking three days ago.
So many things happened in a short time... If he truly was a child then, it explained why he was so complicatedly childish now. But so much more was hidden, even from himself.
Just as he was about to press the Dark Voice again, it preempted him: Now, don't ask how, why, and when those things happened. It doesn't belong to you anymore to know.
Then whose is it?! Kirihito hissed in his mind, his hand tightening around a piece of dragon fruit until it was thoroughly crushed, the crimson juice staining his pale fingers.
No answer came. The voice had vanished, leaving only a mocking echo.
Wait! Wèi didn't get his answers yet! Kirihito mentally barked.
Xio watched, blinking, as Kirihito unconsciously squeezed the fruit—a desperate release of anxiety and frustration. The trembling in the snake's hand was faint but visible, and the juice rolled down his fingers. Xio reached out and gently took Kirihito's hand, squeezing just enough to anchor him back to the present.
"You... need something, Wèi?" Xio asked, worry clear in his voice, yet his professional Lan Suji act remained intact, preventing the question from sounding too intimate.
Kirihito swallowed the remaining fruit in his mouth, looking at Xio. Time seemed to stop. The gentle squeeze on his hand instantly melted the spike of anxiety; he felt like a safe chick sheltered under warm feathers.
Xio tilted his head slightly, a silent question: You're alright?
Kirihito said nothing, merely purring low in his throat, clicking his tongue like a contented bird, before licking his juice-stained lips clean. It was a seriously cute, innocent sight.
"You are an untouchable velvet tide which is hard to reach... hard to tame," Xio whispered. The words were softly spoken, an unguarded admiration, as sweet and cold as the water spray in the clouds.
Kirihito tilted his head. His dark hair and the hooded scarf cast shadows across his beautiful, high cheekbones.
The phrase "untouchable velvet tide" spun in his mind. It was a new description, suggesting a beautiful, yet inherently venomous flower. It made him feel special in a way he didn't yet understand.
"Wèi... what?" Kirihito asked softly, curiously wanting to know the meaning.
Xio's breath hitched. He realized he had openly spoken too much of his heart to the snake he was trying to tame, and all in the span of a single day.
But perhaps comfort and understanding were not measured by time, but by shared moments of vulnerability. Xio realized their internal rhythm had changed, like rain falling unexpectedly in winter—uninvited, yet entirely welcome.
Xio quickly pulled his hand away, his fingers brushing Kirihito's before he meticulously wiped both their hands clean with a cloth napkin. He was visibly anxious to leave.
Kirihito watched him, a hint of dark amusement in his blindfolded gaze. "Our... meal is finished, right? Now let's go outside before we get caught here by those clan males you saw in the portraits."
Kirihito seemed ready to press for answers about the internal voices, but Xio swiftly cut him off with a distracting suggestion.
"There is a place where rehearsals with dancers are arranged. You love dancing and singing, no? You'll enjoy it," Xio said as he rose to his feet, smoothing the white pleats of the Lan Suji robe with composed elegance.
Kirihito shot up instantly.
The moment dancing was mentioned, his whole posture changed—
like a spark lighting dry leaves.
Excitement bloomed across his face.
His cheeks warmed, his lips parted in a small "oh,"
and for a heartbeat
he looked nothing like the calculating serpent yokai he was feared to be.
He looked young...Hopeful.
Almost painfully adorable.
Xio watched the transformation with a strange tightness in his chest—
something too human for a man in disguise.
Kirihito lightly tugged Xio's sleeve, swaying as if holding back the urge to twirl.
"Rehearsal… really? Wèi can go?" he asked, voice soft, almost shimmering.
Xio swallowed."That's why I'm taking you."
Kirihito's fingers curled with excitement.
Then—
He suddenly paused.Just a second. Barely noticeable.
But Xio noticed.
The blindfolded snake tilted his head, as if listening to something only he could hear.
A flicker of a deeper instinct passed over his expression—
a shadow under sunlight.
It vanished as quickly as it came.
Kirihito straightened, letting the excitement swallow everything else.
"Then… let's go!" he said, almost bouncing, the long sleeves of the robe fluttering like wings.
Xio nodded, but his eyes lingered on Kirihito a moment longer.
There was a question he still wanted to ask.
A truth he wasn't ready to touch.