The Encounter

CHAPTER ONE

"Himari, catch!", a lanky American-Japanese boy by the name of Summit passed her the tools for cleaning carelessly to signal her to bus tables this time. She had delivered a tray-full load of used dishes waiting to be washed up at the dishwasher machine. Having enough flexes, Himari was able to catch them and shook her head. This guy was so young, in his 20s, and too playful. With her petite figure, nobody would think she was on-a-job-training at one of the most reputable restaurants in Kyoto - The Yasaka Higashiyama - prestigious for its Michelin star awards as the cuisines served here were unimaginably delectable. For decades, TYH was undeniably one of the best hosts to various guests all across the globe - from world leaders to politicians to Olympiads to middle class individuals - almost like a home to every gastronomists. Tonight, Himari fancied to be one of the guests under the roof of glimmering chandeliers that scintillate the already sparkling statuses of everyone in the hall. To add to the elegance of the trattoria, the floor was carpeted with intricately-woven, marble floor-looking, cream-colored Persian rug that enveloped the entire floor area. The hall was complemented with round tables that were covered with gradients of alabaster, ecru, and taupe cloths. It was simply elegant! As dreamy as she was, Himari did not notice she was holding the porcelain tenmoku sauce dispenser absentmindedly and took a wrong step to her right in time the liquid spurted out to the man in white sushi uniform. To her horror, it was the Chef de Cuisine based from what was embroidered on the left breast pocket side of his clothes.

"Nante kotoda! Moshiwakearimasen, gomennasai!" she exclaimed was torn whether to wipe the spilled puree off from his uniform or to dust off the broken pieces of the porcelain container scattered on the carpeted floor.

"It's all right, my dear." One woman in English accent but she just turned attentively to her chef. Surprised and undeniably fumed by this matter, Shintaro but calmly said before everyone at the table that it was after all unintentional and simply turned to her whispering, "See you at the office after my rounds." He meant after he had talked to everyone at the dining hall and she had to wait for him. It was a consequence for her carelessness.

Himari just sucked up whatever was being roared by the executive chef. After all, she was unmindful and careless.

"You should have known, critics were in this gathering too! Whatever the outcome of tonight's event will backfire at me. At.me. Do you understand that?!"

'Why is he so mindful of his reputation?' she thought to herself. Trying to find her voice, Himari squeakily answered 'Hai' and exited when Shintaro was done roasting her.

She knew all eyes were on her as she got out of his cubicle but she did not dare to see the smirks of regular kitchen employees. Rumors had it that these crew members were perfectionists, hired by meticulous group of restaurant conglomerate in and out of Japan. For this particular career, one must be quick-witted, adept, and present in addition to being professional and creative. She began questioning herself if she was worthy to be here.

"But must he be that sensitive? I could wash that damn uniform," she spoke to no one in particular along the kitchen leeway.

"Really?" a deep masculine voice spoke behind her she jumped only to find Shintaro standing there. "This damn uniform had better be washed. Now!"

Himari froze where she stood while dazing at him taking off his uniform. Who wouldn't? Any straight woman or a she-man would waste five seconds at this view. Shintaro Yamamoto, at twenty-eight, had swept off many if not all women at their feet. With an athletic build that stood six inches high, chiselled facial features that go proportionate with his build and those brown deep-set eyes that pierced her intimidated her. She had this regular female statute that was not worth a second look. She was now haggard and jaded that those thin almond eyes niched on her heart-shaped face were drooping.

"Are you mesmerized by my handsomeness?" Shintaro checked her stance while handing her his uniform.

Irked by this ridiculous self-ego, she rebutted. "Handsome my foot! I'll wash it now.Sir." She sarcastically stressed the word 'Sir' in purpose and grabbed his apparel and marched off towards the laundromat of the building. Almost everyone at work for tonight's gala was returning home and she, at 1 o'clock, was still washing her immediate boss's chef clothing. Perceiving there was no way for her to go home at this hour, Himari took advantage of the visitors' lounge which was partially hidden by the lobby to the exit doors across the laundromat when she was done. Lurking there might not be a problem; she was at least an employee, she could find an alibi later. Home in Nagoya was an hour away by shinkansen, hence she settled onto the couch and snoozed.

'She saw a man so bright she had to cover her eyes with her slender fingers. He was well-built like a god descended from the skies and sought after by many ostracized women by his side as he reached for her. She met halfway and seized his arm, smelled it like she had breathed fresh flowers for the first time in her life. He withdrew when she tried to kiss that smooth arm he had to thwack her forehead like it was the only choice.'

"Aww!" She woke up in pain realizing it was not a dream anymore only to be appalled that she was holding her boss's arm. He sent her a harassed look that made her drop it. "Are you done fantasizing me...Ito Himari?" He looked at her nameplate that was still tagged on her uniform she covered her chest with her arms thinking he was horrifyingly maniac. He chortled with a smirk - a deadly gesture.

"What are you doing here, sir?" She struggled for a coat; it was painstakingly cold. She could not stand this temperature and urged for some hot coffee or chocolate drink.

Noticing she was shivering, Shintaro gave her his. "I think I should be the one asking that. Why are you here? No, why are you STILL here?"

Hesitant to take it, Himari was all the more clenching her jaw. The temperature must be negative, she thought. "Uh, your uniform is hung at the laundromat. Shall I bring it to your office, sir?" she asked in-between her gritting teeth.

Exhausted to say anything more and not wanting to hear her response to his question anymore, Shintaro put his coat on Himari's shoulders that had taken her aback. "You're welcome" he just said and off he went to the main door of the establishment.

'Is he all right? Why is he suddenly good to me? Did he regret his actions towards me? Wow. He is human, after all, and this coat is so warm.' She told herself and went back to sleep.

"Odoroita!"

"Kanojo wa dono yo ni koko de nemuru koto ga dekimasuka?"

"Kanojo wa toku ni sunde imasu ka?"

"Kawaii!"

Startled upon seeing the faces hovering her, Himari quickly sat up from the couch at the lounge. "W-what time is it?" She looked like a mad scientist with her hair frizzled all over her head. Waiting for a response, she slowly thought these people had little English.

"Imananjidesuka?"

"Ah..shichijidesu!"

"7 o'clock?! Arigatou gozaimasu!" She hurried to the laundromat and flashed towards her boss's lair only to find out that the entire personnel was completely strange, or so she thought.

"Who are you?" One fox-faced woman approached her.

"Me? I'm a trainee here." She looked past the woman's shoulder her neck stretched like a giraffe's.

"You're looking for Mr. Yamamoto? He is in Singapore. And if you're asking where everyone is, they are fired!" The woman dashed off her heels away from her leaving her befuddled.

'How on earth?! Heeh?!" She was shocked by the idea that everyone was canned because of her, because she was careless last night. 'This is crazy! Are Japanese restaurants really that strict these days? Oh my gosh. How can I reach them?'