Kiyo took the words "knock on the kitchen door first" seriously.
The next morning, just as Che stuffed his workbook into his schoolbag, he heard three very proper knocks from the outer room. One, two, three, with pauses in between that were surprisingly convincing.
Nao's voice drifted out from the kitchen. "The door isn't closed."
Kiyo stood at the doorway and knocked once more. "I'm practicing knocking."
"Done practicing?"
"Not yet. I wanted to ask if I could know whether there's a second rice ball for breakfast today."
The pot lid clinked softly. Che fastened his schoolbag strap and walked to the door, where he saw Kiyo standing ramrod straight, as if facing registration questions at the Ninja Academy. Nao held a ladle in one hand and pressed the rim of the pot with the other. Her expression did not change, but the corner of her eye clearly twitched.
"You may know," Nao said. "There isn't."
Having received his answer, Kiyo swayed in place. "That was such a formal rejection."
Che could not help laughing. "Congratulations. You've completed a proper question-and-answer exchange."
Kiyo turned and glared at him. "Don't use a teacher voice when talking about rice balls."
Nao pushed a bowl onto the table. "Rice balls aren't training advice. Eat your porridge."
The kitchen smelled of rice, with a little white foam still clinging to the side of the pot. The weather outside was poor, clouds hanging low. Someone was already passing through the clan compound's alleyway, their wooden clogs making a stickier sound than usual on the damp ground. As Che sat down, his fingers brushed the edge of his workbook and touched the note inside. If you want to know, you can ask whether you may know. Now that Kiyo had used it to ask about breakfast,