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A Fistful of Dust
63. Day 223: Busy

63. Day 223: Busy

He never stayed long for breakfast, preferring to go straight to work. An early riser.

Kenta, though, rose before dawn. Since they’d arrived, Kenta became a whirling dervish of chores. Every surface was spotless; the walls had a new coat of paint; even places behind paintings and furniture were immaculate. He kept their home stocked with fresh water and cooked three meals a day. Kenta was omnipresent and omnipotent within the ‘abandoned’ hotel.

The young man stood in the eye of a tornado of activity, arms folded while his hair chopped onions, flipped pancakes, sautéed tomatoes, sliced bacon, and pan-fried eggs. Paul snagged a piece of toast rough enough to give him a sense of ‘texture.’

“Honey, I’m off to work!” he said in passing.

“Paul, make that joke once more, and you’ll have to take responsibility for annoying a Kaminoke. We’re slow to anger, but you don’t want to see one get serious.”

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“Sorry, sorry, but don’t you think this is a little funny?”

“No. I don’t.” Kenta sighed and looked out the kitchen window, wondering aloud, “When are we getting out of here?”

“As soon as we’re ready.”

Though Kenta laughed, he spat bitter cynicism, “Every day we wait, they get further away. Anything could happen to them while we’re sitting here doing nothing.”

“They’re adults; don’t you think they can take care of themselves?”

“Not if they’re being hunted. Maybe they need our help.”

“When we can barely take care of ourselves?”

Kenta screwed up his face and punched a hole in the wall, cutting his fist so his knuckles bled, “I know you and Dan don’t want to split the group, but I can’t stay here forever! At this rate, those two will never get better. How long do I have to wait until you’re satisfied?”

“Be patient a little while longer.” Paul didn’t know how to handle these outbursts. “Daniel and Rana are doing the best they can.”

“Whatever they’re doing isn’t working fast enough. I can see no one will move if I don’t goad them, so I’m not going to stop asking.”

Paul sighed, frowned, then asked, “Hey, Kenta?”

“What?”

“Do you want to play Go after I get back from work?”

“Not tonight,” Kenta said. “I’m too busy.”

He was always busy.