She eats dinner with the Okanos

Having to unload so much stuff from her car boot was a first for her, and even with Aomi and Danjuro helping out, it still took at least half an hour to sort out all the stuff to be stored, whether in the fridge, the cabinets or the storeroom. The packed bentos - filled with roast pork and salad - were their reward for a job well done.

Afterwards, there was not much to do until dinner time, so Shioko went to the nearby gym to train while Aomi watched TV and Danjuro played games on his computer.

Not long afterwards, Shioko returned home to the smell of cooked meat and fried veggies being served alongside piping hot rice. Danjuro ran up to hug her, catching her off-guard.

"Aunt Shioko! Welcome back!" He exclaimed with a beaming smile, "Dinner's just about ready, so take a seat! You want any drinks?"

"Coffee, 3-in-1," Shioko answered.

With all preparations complete, the three of them sat down at the dinner table, and they gave their thanks for the delicious food.

"Itadakimasu."

Shioko stared at the hot meal, strangely mesmerized by the meagre spread before her. Due to work, she had to dine with all kinds of business and political elites of every denomination, granting her the opportunity to taste all kinds of high-class, exquisite cuisine cooked by the finest chefs. The taste was divine, the atmosphere classy and chic, not places mere plebs could simply barge into unannounced. At times, the men and women she met were of the most repulsive nature, filthy pigs dressed behind facades of sophistry. There were few meals she could truly enjoy in such a setting.

And here was Danjuro's and Aomi's home-cooked ginger pork and veggie stir-fry, the kind you could easily get in any small-time restaurant or packed bento. Humble and unsophisticated, fresh from the frying pan, cheap and affordable for the common masses.

No King or Queen would ever sully their hands with such plebian food, but Shioko found herself taking pieces of pork and veggies into her mouth, drawn by their aroma.

Taste-wise, it was nothing special, high-class restaurant chefs easily beating them by a mile. Yet it warmed her in ways she never thought possible, both physically and emotionally.

__'Come to think of it, I never really had a warm meal outside of packed bentos and cup noodles, did I?' Shioko thought, 'Not even in my childhood, since my family chefs served meals cold.'

__"Listen carefully, Shioko," Her mother said to her at the dinner table, "We Oshimas are of noble blood dating back to the days of the Sengoku Jidai [1] when Oda Nobunaga was just a small-time warlord. Therefore, we must always conduct ourselves with poise and dignity, and never disgrace ourselves by mingling with mere commoners, do you understand?"

"Yes, Mother," An emotionless Shioko answered, her eyes devoid of light, her voice devoid of emotion.

Their dining hall was as large as a 2k housing unit, furnished with top-class wooden furniture crafted to the highest standards of noble culture. No expense was spared, colouring and shaping them with utmost elegance and care, and their precious china and tableware used for dining shone like purest silver, free of stains and blemish. Yet the entire banquet hall was empty and devoid of life, a hearth gone cold in the middle of a blizzard.

_It was miserable.- - - - - -

_

Shioko felt something wet drop onto her hand, and she wiped her eyes, realising she was shedding tears.

"Shioko? Is something the matter?" Aomi asked out of concern.

"...This meal is unexpectedly... warm," Shioko answered.

"That so?" Aomi said, "Well, at least if you're enjoying it, then I guess it's alright."

"If something bothers you, just talk to me about it, 'kay?" Asked Danjuro.

"When I can," Shioko nodded.

People can invest as much money as they like in all the elegant tableware, expensive ingredients and richly decorated dining halls all they want. It would be miserably cold, wretched and dark like a tomb. For someone who was starved of love all her life, it was her only home environment, and it shaped her to become an exceedingly cold, frigid Ice Queen at work and at home.

And now, for the first time in her life, she tasted the coming of spring.

She felt herself smile softly, and she happily dug into her meal, finishing every last morsel.

"Gochisousamadeshita!"

Danjuro happily patted his stomach, celebrating the fruits of his labour.

"That was great!" Danjuro exclaimed, "Maybe we should make yakisoba next?"

"I was actually hoping for fried rice instead, with a side of char siew," Aomi mentioned.

"Maybe we can try making our own char siew at home, Mom," Danjuro suggested, "I mean, we did get some juicy pork belly today, so why not use that?"

"Good idea, son. Actually, I think we did buy a little too much this time," Aomi said.

"Nah, whoever said we buy too much?" Danjuro refuted, "And besides, with Aunt Shioko living with us, we need the extra food!"

"Don't go calling her a glutton, if that's what I think you're saying!" Aomi said exasperatedly.

"I never called her that! It's just... I think it's nice if she eats some more home-cooked meals, you know?" Danjuro explained, looking slightly bashful.

While fighting like cats and dogs, never did Shioko see a stronger familial bond between son and mother that they could freely joke and argue like old friends. Some say that a household that never fights is a household that was never close, and thus could not be counted upon to maintain its unity in times of crisis. That was what happened to the Oshima Family and all its relatives, ensuring their quick downfall.

To her, the atmosphere sparkled as if sunlight reflected off the morning dew, bringing light to her dull, lifeless eyes.

And she smiled.

'Sometimes, I can't help but envy them.'