Chapter 7

Chapter 7

D espite the lingering warmth of Daichi’s steadfast support, my Psychic Stomach can’t stop from doing somersaults as we make our way to the neighborhood association meeting. This will be my first time addressing such a large crowd about the Book Club’s plight — my opening salvo in the fight to preserve our heritage against PairTech’s disruption.

No pressure or anything, right?

I sneak a sidelong glance at Daichi. He moves with an easy, confident grace, offering warm smiles and greetings to the other restaurateurs and shopkeepers we pass on the street. I’m struck by his effortless charisma and friendliness with those around him, and I try to picture him in deep space with only a few other crew members to talk to. Yeah, no. I think he would have been miserable.

How does he make looking so poised and self-assured seem so natural? I’ll be lucky if I can string two coherent sentences together in front of this whole association without turning into a stammering mess.

“You know, it’s not too late for me to just handle the pitch myself if you’re feeling nervous,” Daichi murmurs, catching my uncertain look. His eyes narrow on my clenched hands and white knuckles. “I’ve known most of these people for years, they’ll listen to me without any fuss.”

I shake my head, mustering up a bracing smile. “No, no. This is my fight, my responsibility. I need to be the one making our case and rallying support, even if my knees are shaking the whole time.”

Daichi regards me for a beat, then nods slowly. Is that an approving glimmer in his eyes? “Well, all right then, if you’re sure. Just remember to breathe, okay? You’ve got this.”

I’ve got this? I’m not so sure about that.

Still, his support helps calm my nerves as we round the corner onto the main street where the neighborhood's gathering hall is located. I can already see a decent crowd has congregated out front, mingling and chatting in loose clusters.

Daichi gives my arm a little squeeze, then plunges ahead to greet the other arrivals with an easy grin and a few friendly claps on the back. I hang back for a moment, clutching the tote bag of flyers and posters to my chest like a security blanket as I watch him work the crowd.

Despite the threadbare state of the surrounding shops, there’s an unmistakable energy and sense of community in the air. Clearly the association meeting is a beloved tradition around here, a chance for the local restaurant owners to come together and look out for each other’s interests.

Maybe that’ll work in my favor tonight. If I can just tap into that spirit, perhaps I can persuade them to rally behind the Book Club’s cause…

“Well, well, if it isn’t little Winta Kimura all grown up!”

The jovial bellow cuts through the din, startling me out of my head. I barely have time to blink before an older, graying man is sweeping me up into an enveloping bear hug, squeezing until I can barely breathe.

“Akio! Put the poor girl down before you crack her ribs,” calls another familiar voice, this one warm with laughter.

Finally released, I stagger back a step and gaze up at the grinning, weathered face of Akio Yamada — owner of the neighborhood’s most popular yakitori joint and, more importantly, one of the Empress’s oldest friends from way back. It’s an accident that he even knows who I am. But when his wife, Helena, died about fifteen years ago, he came to my dad for help in finding a place to open his restaurant, and ended up becoming a family friend.

“Oof! It’s good to see you too, Akio,” I manage once I’ve caught my breath again. “Though I could have done without the rib-bruising…”

“Ah, don’t be so dramatic,” he rumbles with a dismissive wave. “You’re still just as tiny and delicate as the last time I saw you. Figured you could use a little toughening up.”

I roll my eyes at the familiar teasing, even as a reluctant grin tugs at my lips. Some things never change, no matter how many years go by.

“And Kiko! It’s wonderful to see you as well,” I add, turning to embrace the elegant, silver-haired woman at Akio’s side. Kiko Mori owns the most acclaimed tempura restaurant in the neighborhood, as well as being one of my mother’s friends since childhood.

Hmmm, I had forgotten just how many people I know around here.

Maybe this meeting will go better than I expect.

“Look at you, all grown up and still just as lovely as ever,” Kiko murmurs, cupping my face fondly as we break apart.

“Thanks.” I flush at the praise.

“You need to come around and see us more often,” Kiko says, nodding to Akio.

I wince. “Sorry. I know I haven’t been by in like a year. I’ve been… pretty focused on my work. Though it looks like this neighborhood has started thriving again after that awful storm hit a few years back.”

I glance around at the last few shuttered shops on this street. Last year, there was still a pile of debris in the empty lot on the corner. Now, even that is clear.

“This whole area sat abandoned for longer than any of us would have liked after that freak monsoon.” Akio’s expression clouds over briefly, like the memory is still a painful one. “Damn near wiped out every business in a ten-block radius, including my place and Kiko’s. Anyway, let’s head inside.”

The meeting hall is packed by the time Daichi and I make our way in, nearly every folding chair occupied. A low buzz of chatter fills the air as restaurateurs and shopkeepers greet each other, catching up on the latest neighborhood news and gossip.

I look around, trying to get a sense of the crowd’s overall demeanor. Do they seem like they’re in good moods? Tired? Annoyed? I’m unsure.

A few of the usual busybodies notice me sitting next to Daichi and start whispering. I hold back a groan. They’ll probably have the whole town thinking we’re dating before dawn.

Ignore them, Winta.

Daichi must sense my rising trepidation. He leans in close, lips almost brushing my ear. “Don’t worry about them. They’re all harmless.”

He thinks I’m worried about the restaurant owners, when now I’m worried about a lot more.

I manage a jerky nod, skin prickling at his proximity.

Harmless. Right. I can do this.

I am doing this.

The meeting kicks off with logistical updates from the association’s leadership. I use the time to keep my nerves steady and review my notes for how I plan to pitch the Book Club’s noble cause. I wring my hands to calm my racing heart, but it’s no use. I’m too nervous to do anything but sit and wait for the inevitable panic at having to address the crowd.

Finally, the chairwoman — a stern-faced but kindly old woman named Takako — calls Daichi up to present his agenda item. He touches my knee, then rises smoothly to make his way to the front with that easy, confident stride of his.

“Good evening, everyone,” he begins with a warm smile, instantly commanding the room’s attention. “As many of you know, I don’t often request agenda time unless it’s an issue of particular importance to the neighborhood and our community’s well-being.”

A few nods and murmurs of assent ripple through the crowd.

“Well, I’m afraid the matter I’ve brought before you all tonight is very important, not just for our local businesses… but for safeguarding one of our civilization’s most cherished cultural traditions.”

His gaze finds me in the crowd, steady and resolute. “As some of you may have heard, the Great Menagerie Book Club is facing an existential threat from a new company called PairTech that will be opening a branch right here in our neighborhood.”

The reaction is immediate and unmistakable — a surge of surprised muttering and furrowed brows from the assembled crowd.

“Tonight, I’ve brought Winta Kimura, the club’s general manager, here to talk about this threat.”

Pushing down a swell of dismay, I rise to my feet and move to stand at Daichi’s side, flyers in hand.

“PairTech claims their methods of animal matchmaking — using genetic testing, computer algorithms, and scientific analysis — are more reliable and accurate than the Book Club’s personalized, mentorship-based approach,” I say, trying to project confidence.

“Our intimate methods are being labeled as outdated and obsolete,” Daichi adds, his lips setting in a grim line. “And if we don’t take action to remind this community why the Book Club is so vital, PairTech could very well render our methods extinct within a matter of months.”

Dead silence.

The weight of Daichi’s words are sinking in, the gravity of what’s at stake here. A few owners shake their heads.

Finally, one particularly gruff-looking chef raises his hand with a disgruntled scowl.

“Now hold on just a minute,” he says, glaring between Daichi and me. “You’re asking us to what? Chase PairTech out of the neighborhood before they even get settled? Shoo away a new business that could be great for all of us?”

A rumble of muttered agreement rises up from several others. My heart sinks like a leaden weight in my chest.

“No, no. That’s not what we’re proposing at all,” I protest, feeling sweat prickle at my hairline as all those skeptical eyes bore into me. “We’re not asking anyone to turn PairTech away, we just want to spread awareness and remind people why the Book Club’s approach is still so invaluable.” I press a hand to my chest. “I believe we can peacefully co-exist in this neighborhood, but we can’t lose all of our business, either.”

“By plastering the area with these?” Another owner scoffs, snatching one of the flyers from my hand and waving it with a frown. “You think a few posters are gonna make a difference? What if it just keeps businesses in general from opening here?”

My mouth works uselessly as I struggle to find a rebuttal. Daichi jumps in again, ever the voice of patient reason.

“Please, just hear us out,” he urges the grumbling crowd. “We’re proposing a community-wide effort to —”

But his words are drowned out by the rising tide of irritated grumbling. I can only watch as the restaurant owners’ resistance mounts with every new whisper and nodded head.

As the meeting devolves into a chorus of dismissive grumbling and shaking heads, my fragile hopes deflate. These restaurant owners — my neighbors, my community — are supposed to be allies in preserving our heritage. But their resistance to even hearing me out is proving unexpectedly, dishearteningly stubborn.

Daichi keeps trying valiantly to regain control of the room, raising his voice over the escalating din.

“Everyone, please! I’m simply asking that you keep an open mind and hear Winta’s full proposal before —”

But it’s no use. No one’s interested in discussion anymore.

One by one, the disgruntled owners begin rising from their seats and filing toward the exit, grumbling to each other as they go.

I stand, numb and despondent, as the crowd rapidly disperses around us.

So much for winning over the neighborhood’s business community as a crucial first step… I would laugh about it, but I only want to cry.

Yeah, try to find the positive in this, Winta.

Eventually only a handful of people remain, including the stern-faced chairwoman Takako watching me with an inscrutable look. Daichi lets out a weary sigh, raking a hand through his tousled hair as the last few stragglers head for the door.

“Well… that certainly could have gone better,” he mutters.

I open my mouth to respond, but a new voice cuts me off before I can get a word out.

“You know, you folks might want to consider going to talk with the PairTech people before you make any rash decisions about fighting their company.”

We both turn to find Akio watching us with a bemused look.

“From the little I know, their methods don’t actually sound all that terrible,” he continues. “Using genetic science and data to ensure more reliable pairings? It seems like a reasonable evolution, if you ask me. Maybe you’re just being a bit… resistant to change.” He sighs. “Goodness knows, I’ve been resistant to change my whole life. But I’ve learned, the hard way, to compromise and be open to new things.”

The words are like a knife to my gut, sending a hot surge of defensive anger lancing through me. I open my mouth, fully prepared to give Akio a blistering piece of my mind about PairTech’s soulless calculations…

But Daichi beats me to it, placing a calming hand on my arm as he turns to address Akio with unruffled diplomacy.

“With all due respect, I don’t believe PairTech’s algorithms could ever truly capture the deeper resonance at the heart of a pairing bond,” he states, tone polite but firm.

Akio regards him for a long moment, seeming to weigh his words. Then, slowly, he shakes his head with a chuckle.

“Well, perhaps you’re right about that. I suppose there are certain intangible elements that can’t be measured by data alone.” He turns to go, tossing one last look over his shoulder. “Even so… it might still be worth hearing PairTech’s perspective before you decide they’re the enemy, don’t you think?”

With that final piece of advice hanging in the air, he follows the last few others out the door, leaving Daichi and me alone in the now-empty hall.

Great. The fight to save the Book Club’s legacy has barely even begun… and I’ve already hit my first roadblock of stubborn opposition. Daichi’s hand finds mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze. I raise my gaze to meet his.

Is he… Is he holding my hand?

I must be dreaming.

“Hey,” he murmurs, offering me a small, lopsided smile. “We knew this wasn’t going to be easy, remember? One setback isn’t the end of the world.”

He’s right, of course. This is just the beginning of what’s sure to be a long, arduous campaign.

Movement down the sidewalk catches my attention, and I look past Daichi to find the usual gossips, Sadako Edwards and Nick Cho, watching us and whispering. I pull my hand from Daichi’s as inconspicuously as possible, but it’s too late. They saw the hand-holding. Sadako’s eyes widen and Nick pulls her away before I can approach them and cause a scene.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.

“What?” Daichi turns, but Sadako and Nick are already over a block away. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” I say, stepping away from him. “Thanks for all of your help, but I think you’ve probably done as much as you could.”

“I can always offer more help,” he says, his face falling into a frown.

If he’s seen with me again, that’ll be the end of his popularity around town, possibly the end of Tori no Kazé. I can’t risk that.

I force a smile. “Let’s talk again in a few days and see, okay?” Before he can answer, I turn and walk away, calling out, “Have a good night!” over my shoulder.

Time to flee the scene before anyone else sees us together.