Chương 498: 236.Debt of Gratitude 2

Maki waited until everyone's bowl had been touched at least once before she spoke. That was her way. She never opened at the most awkward possible moment—that reads too much like an interrogation. She never waited until the mood had fully relaxed either—that reads too much like a trap. She always picked the exact middle. The second when there's something in your stomach, but your guard hasn't quite come down yet.

"Dubois." Maki set her teacup down, her tone level as someone reading a document aloud. Irena's chopsticks stopped mid-air.

"... Yes."

"Showing up here yourself, at this hour," Maki said, "wasn't a whim."

"... No."

"And whatever's between you and Dwight," Maki went on, "clearly involves some kind of agreement." D's head dropped another half-inch. From the moment he'd sat down, he'd been holding at one more inch and my chin goes through the table. The instant Maki spoke, it was like someone had stacked another invisible weight on him. Maki didn't look at D. She only looked at Irena.

"So," she said, setting her cup down very gently, "what agreement do you need Dwight to keep?" The whole table went still. Lan put down her chopsticks. Hedwig set down her spoon. Roy, who'd been pretending to watch TV, gave up even the pretense and turned fully toward us. As for Jess—Jess reacted fastest of all. She shoved an entire new cookie into her mouth, because she knew a scene was coming, and she couldn't afford to get up in the middle of it. I picked up a bite, chewed slowly, and watched Irena.

She didn't avoid Maki's eyes. She set her chopsticks down, placed one hand over the other on the table, and sat even straighter than before. That posture belonged to an Upper House Anchor. To House Dubois. And to whatever she least wanted to lose right now. Then she looked straight at D, without a second of hesitation.

"I want him to marry me." I nearly sprayed my tea across the table. By an act of pure human willpower, I forced it down and coughed once. My cough was completely drowned out by the chaos beside me. Jess had just gotten that cookie into her mouth when the sentence landed. The next second, violent coughing—her face red inside half a second, one hand hammering her chest, the other slapping the table, looking exactly like someone administering emergency CPR. In reality, she'd just choked on herself.

Lan reacted instantly, thumping her once on the back with practiced precision. Jess coughed, and the cookie flew out of her mouth, landing with perfect aim right back on her own plate.

"..."

"..."

"..." Lan closed her eyes, deeply. Hedwig's spoon stopped mid-air, then was set back beside her bowl, very quietly. Her Highness didn't laugh, but I saw the tips of her ears go red for exactly one second before fading back to white. I looked back at Maki. She held two full seconds of total blankness. No surprise, no emotion, no ripple in her eyes as she looked at Irena—just a layer of very calm, very high-speed calculation running underneath. Two seconds later, Maki spoke.

"Matters of the heart," she said, "are outside my jurisdiction." Then she stood. Light, steady, entirely herself. She didn't even push the chair back—just lifted herself off it, took two steps, and walked straight toward the kitchen.

"... President," I said, low. She didn't turn.

"... Maki."

"I'm going to see if Lan's soup is still hot," Maki said.

"..."

"Take your time." This woman. She'd just detonated the entire table with matters of the heart are outside my jurisdiction, then made a graceful exit to check the soup. She wasn't checking the soup. She was handing me the whole situation and walking away. I quietly lit an internal incense stick for myself, on tonight's behalf. Irena waited until Maki had disappeared into the kitchen before finally moving her eyes off D. D still hadn't looked up. He was staring at that wood-grain knot like it was about to glow.

Forget arguing—he was breathing carefully now, as if one extra inhale would blast a hole in the dish in front of him he'd never be able to explain. Irena watched him for five seconds. Then she turned to look at me. The look was strange. Not hostile. Not evaluating. Not the world refocusing expression from the yard. More like—the corner of her mouth shifted a fraction, and something faint and sharp surfaced in her eyes. Something in my chest went thump. She's about to make a move.

And this one wasn't going to land in the yard. It was going to land on the dinner table. She wasn't holding a weapon this time. She was holding her tongue.

"Alternatively," Irena said, "you could marry me instead, Hoshino." Fuck. Knew it. Jess went completely horizontal. She'd only just survived the cookie incident, and now she slid straight off her chair, half caught on the backrest, half on the table leg, laughing too hard to breathe, one hand gripping the chair, the other pointing at me with zero manners and zero situational awareness. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

From the kitchen came a sharp clang. Something had been dropped. Lan closed her eyes and stayed silent for a full three seconds. Hedwig lifted her spoon out of her bowl in slow motion, the pace almost deliberate. I could tell she wasn't surprised or embarrassed—she was observing. Her Highness had apparently decided to spend the rest of tonight grading everyone present. I opened my mouth. I closed it. I opened it again. Finally, I looked at Irena and spoke in the calmest voice I could dig up.

"... Dubois."

"Mm."

"I'm a girl."

"I know."

"You're a girl too."

"I know."

"You just asked D to marry you."

"Yes."

"And now you're asking me."

"Yes."

"What exactly are your criteria?" Irena's chin lifted, very slightly, very Upper House—the exact look of someone about to say I'll tell you, since you asked.

"I only marry someone who is either stronger than me, or someone I actually respect," she said.

"Gender is irrelevant." Fuck. She said gender is irrelevant in a tone cleaner than a mission briefing. This wasn't just nerve. This was the House Dubois brand. Something in me stepped back half a pace. Not physically—emotionally. I'd already beaten her once tonight. I had no interest in getting registered as an asset just because I'd won. That was a losing condition I'd never trained for. Irena looked at me.

Her eyes were still cold, clear, bright—just now with something faint, controlled, and unmistakably provoking underneath. Everything she'd lost in the yard, she was clearly planning to win back one sentence at a time, with her mouth. I understood. This Anchor had more than one way to fight. That was when Maki came back from the kitchen. She was carrying a pot of soup in one hand, the other empty. She set it in the center of the table, sat back down, and spoke to Irena without looking at me first.

"No."

"...?"

"Not Shimo."

"... Why?"

"Because I don't consent," Maki said.

"On what authority?"

"As President. As the next head of House Kushima. As a regular of this house. And—" Maki's tone stayed perfectly even, "—as the person who just came back from checking the soup."

"All of these apply simultaneously," she said.

"So. No." Irena's expression froze, very slightly. She probably hadn't expected Maki to block Shimo as an option this clearly, this bluntly, this Kushima. Just as she was about to speak, Maki got there first.

"Dubois," Maki said.

"... Yes."

"Your mind should be on tomorrow's tournament right now."

"..."

"Not," Maki said, "on coming to someone else's house to hold a marriage-by-combat tournament." D made a small, strangled sound beside her. I had no idea what that sound actually contained. Maybe he'd just realized he was now personally included in marriage-by-combat. Maybe it was pure survival instinct. Irena looked at Maki. Maki looked at Irena. The air between the two women held for half a second. Then Irena's chin dropped, very slightly—by about an inch. That inch mattered.

Because when I'd had her pinned in the yard, her chin hadn't dropped this far. But in front of Maki, she lowered it herself. The Kushima name still carried weight in Dubois eyes, apparently. Confirmed tonight, incidentally. But Irena's next line was nothing close to surrender.

"... In that case," she said.

"Mm?"

"I," Irena said, "was beaten black and blue by Hoshino."

"..."

"My pride is also shattered." She was fishing for sympathy. I'd seen this opening far too many times in my life. Anyone who starts this way almost never follows up with so I'll take my leave. Sure enough, she placed both hands on the table and continued, in a posture that was perfectly correct, perfectly sincere, and entirely Upper House.

"So," she said, "I may not be able to walk back to the Upper House dormitory on my own tonight."

"..."

"I need some time to recalibrate my cyberframe's core alignment."

"..."

"And my dignity."

"..."

"Please allow me to rest here a while." D's head dropped another half-inch. Lan finished an entire cup of tea in one go. Hedwig, very quietly, ladled Irena another spoonful of soup.... Your Highness. You've fully picked a side. Maki looked at Irena. Didn't move. Irena looked at Maki. Didn't move either. I sat between the two of them, looked down at my own plate, then at the armor plate still resting beside it. Finally I sighed, set down my chopsticks, sat up straight, and looked at Irena.

"... Dubois."

"Mm."

"Could you possibly not marry anyone tonight."

"... No."

"..."

"Unless," Irena said, "you give me a better offer." This woman genuinely dared to negotiate terms. At my table. After I'd beaten her. After I'd kept her for dinner. After Maki had already vetoed her. And she was still sitting there, expression unchanged, making demands. I looked at her for three seconds. At those cold, clear, bright eyes—red not long ago, crying not long ago, pressed into the ground by my own hands not long ago. At that chin, held at exactly the right angle.

At the Upper House uniform missing one plate on the back. And then a completely uncontrollable thought surfaced. She's actually kind of beautiful. And if tonight had gone differently, she probably cuts a pretty impressive figure normally. But I still couldn't marry her. More precisely—it wasn't that I couldn't. It was that Maki wouldn't allow it. I spoke.

"... In the future."

"... The future?"

"In the future, if there's anything I can actually help with," I said, "consider it a debt I owe you." Irena's eyes widened, slightly. I added, fast:"... Marriage excluded."

"..."

"Anything else I can manage," I said, "I'll do my best." The table went quiet for half a second. Then Hedwig laughed—small, light, elegant.

"Pfft." Her Highness laughed again. Her second time tonight.

"Your Highness." I gave her a look, out of patience.

"Nothing," Hedwig said.

"I was simply thinking Hoshino's method of handling a situation like this is very..."

"Very what."

"Very street."

"..." I decided not to determine whether that was a compliment or an insult. Irena didn't answer right away. She lowered her head and took a very deliberate spoonful of soup, holding it in her mouth longer than any bite that night—long enough that I started to wonder, again, whether her frame was running an analysis. About five seconds later, she swallowed and looked up.

"... All right," she said.

"... All right?"

"Hoshino owes me one."

"..."

"This one," Irena said, "I'll keep on the books." She'd agreed. She'd actually agreed. I turned Hoshino owes me one over in my head three times, and no matter which way I read it, something about it felt wrong. Why did that sound scarier than marry me. Why, when I was the one who'd said no, did I somehow feel like I'd lost something. Beside me, Maki took a quiet sip of soup. She said nothing.

But I knew that line—Shimo owes Dubois one—had already been entered, neatly, into whatever internal ledger she kept under the name Kushima. D finally looked up. Very carefully, very slowly, like he was checking whether it was actually safe to surface. His eyes went to Irena, then to me, then to Maki, then toward the kitchen, then to Roy, and finally to Jess—still half-collapsed against her chair, laughing herself dry. Then he opened his mouth.

"... So," D said, "my younger brothers—""It's fine," Irena said. Her voice had gone soft. Much softer than when she'd been negotiating terms with me. The first time all night she'd sounded close to an ordinary girl.

"Your brothers," she said.

"House Dubois will take care of whatever needs taking care of."

"..."

"Vitrication Syndrome," Irena said.

"I had it myself." The table went quiet again. This time, the silence had weight. D's eyes went red instantly.

"... Really?"

"Why do you think I ended up like this." She tapped her own arm lightly. The clean casing gave a soft, quiet knock.

"House Dubois saved my life."

"..."

"Your brothers," she said, "won't have to go as far as I did. They still have a chance." D lowered his head. Not to hide this time. Because he couldn't hold it together. This nearly-two-meter man's shoulders shook, once, very slightly. He didn't cry, but the chopsticks in his hand were gripped tight enough to whiten his knuckles. I watched him and said nothing. Maki said nothing. Hedwig said nothing. Lan quietly nudged the dish in front of her a little closer to D—a tiny motion, no words attached.

Roy was actually watching the television now, not pretending. Jess had gone quiet too. She'd been laughing a moment ago; now she sat still, said nothing, did nothing—just silently pushed one of her cookies toward D. That cookie was the single most valuable currency in this house. And Jess had just given one away. The first time, in all the time I'd known her, I'd ever watched her push a cookie toward someone else. I made a quiet note.

So there really were things in this world that could make Jess surrender a cookie. D managed a smile. An ugly one.

"... Thanks," he said, quietly. I couldn't tell if it was for Irena, for Jess, or for the whole table. Probably all of it. Maki let that second pass before speaking again, naturally.

"Dubois."

"Mm."

"Tomorrow's tournament," Maki said.

"You fight as scheduled."

"... Yes."

"Dwight will be in your group," Maki said.

"He won't step down." D's head came up instantly.

"... I won't step down," D said. His voice was low. Steady.

"... I won't step down." Again.

"... I won't step down." A third time. Those three lines were worth more than everything else he'd said tonight combined. Irena didn't answer right away. She just lowered her head and set her spoon quietly beside her bowl. Her eyes went red for the second time. But this time, she didn't cry. Because this time, there was no we should've had you as Anchor from the start behind her. This time, there was only: I won't step down. It's not that a woman like her can't cry. It's just very hard for her to let herself.

The table settled into quiet again. A steady, settled kind of quiet. Maki lifted her tea and drank. Hedwig lifted her spoon and kept going. Lan finally sat back properly and started eating. Roy turned the television down two notches. As for Jess—she stared at the cookie she'd just given away for three seconds, then quietly reached to take it back, and got her hand smacked away by Lan on the spot.

"Jess."

"I wasn't doing anything!"

"You already gave it away."

"..."

"Given cookies don't come back."

"... Who made that rule?"

"Her Highness's sign is still hanging right there."

"..." Lan really did maintain this household's order with genuine dedication. I lifted my own cup and let my eyes travel slowly around the table. D, finally looking up. Irena, chin back where it belonged. Maki, refilling her own tea. Hedwig, still gracefully working through her soup. Lan and Jess, into round eight of cookie warfare. Roy, finally able to eat in peace. I looked down and took a sip. Tonight's dinner, all things considered, had turned out not bad.