She snatched the bento with a clawed hand, retreated behind the cedar, and devoured it in seventeen seconds. Then she licked the container clean, sat back on her haunches, and stared at him with something between shame and desperate hope.
Takeda smiled. It was a quiet, unassuming smile, the kind that had made him a beloved teacher at the village middle school. “I’m Takeda. I cook.”
“I am a fearsome mountain deity,” she growled. Ookami-san wa Taberaretai
“Of course you are.”
Takeda set down the pot. Then he did something very foolish. He reached out and touched her ear. She snatched the bento with a clawed hand,
“I’m trying to feed you,” Takeda said. “There’s a difference.”
The autumn leaves had just begun to dust the forest path when Takeda Ryoichi first saw her. It was a quiet, unassuming smile, the kind
“It’s from the convenience store in the valley,” Takeda said, stepping closer. “The salmon one. I had one for breakfast.”