"I see, so a one-year live-in apprenticeship."

We were on the second floor of the Black Cat Pavilion inside of a reception room separated from the rest of the cafe by a frosted glass partition.

I was sitting with my back straight facing a woman.

She was sitting with her long, slender legs crossed as she looked over a document on the desk in front of her. The document was a thin sheet of paper on which I had carefully written out my resume.

Her hair was mostly tied back in a bun, but what had been left out had a gentle wave to it. She was holding a fountain pen in her right hand. From time to time she gave me a cool appraising glance. When she looked at me her eyes took on a somewhat frightening intensity.

"Kakunoya-machi would mean the president of Kamikura Iron & Steel works?"

"You're well informed."

"I've been there in the past. They were the preferred partner of the military.

The chair creaked as she stood.

I couldn't help but look up at her. She was quite tall for a woman - though I suppose her high heels did play some part in that.

"When did you retire from the military, Okumiya-san?"

"It'll soon be 3 years since I retired."

Okumiya Otome. Former military. The owner of the Black Cat Pavilion.

She went to stand by the window. Everything about her had a feel of elegance. All of the soldiers that I had known were on the coarse side, but she was the opposite.

"You... must have been high ranking."

I was sure there was a better way to ask about this sort of thing, but whenever I made the attempt, it always came out sounding foolish.

Otome: "My rank when I retired was Major."

"Hahaa... it seems like a bit of a waste, somehow."

Otome: "Hardly. Soldiers aren't exactly popular nowadays."

She smiled and her eyes glittered with humor. Her voice was calm and reassuring.

"And then you opened the Black Cat Pavilion?"

Otome: "I have a few different ventures currently.

I took over the Black Cat Pavilion from a friend."

She glanced over at the wall.

There was a framed photograph on the wall that showed several dolls and the previous owner.

Otome: "It's an exhausting business that shows no signs of being lucrative."

"No, I'm sure it will be popular."

Otome: "You think so?"

Yes, absolutely."

Otome: "How is your cooking?"

"I haven't made a living as a cook before, but I've prepared a lot of meals.

I've been praised for my cooking. And I can handle customers.

I've done a bit of everything since I was a child. My first job was selling boxed lunches at the train station...."

Otome: "You're hired."

Just as I'd expected, Okumiya-san didn't hesitate to make decisions.

Otome: "I'm sure you'll fit right in. I look forward to working with you."

She held out her right hand.

It took me a second to realize that she was waiting for me to shake her hand.

"Y-Yes! I'll do my best!"

I took her hand in both of mine and shook it.

Her hands were slim and delicate. It was hard to imagine that she had been a soldier.

With hands freshly washed, a new shirt and apron put on, and hair carefully contained underneath a cap I stood in front of the mirror to check my appearance. I looked pretty good. It would have been nice to have a tall, white chef's hat... but that was asking a bit much.

A voice from behind me interrupted my cheerful thoughts of hats.

"Huh...?"

I looked around the room but there was nobody in sight. How odd, I could swear I had heard someone....