• WATTYS 2022 WINNER •
When Iris Monet married millionaire Jared Darling, she had only one rule - that he could cheat on her with anyone except the household staff. This arrangement of theirs would have gone on quite happily if she hadn't caught him...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
akai 👁
I'M looking for her again.
It's becoming an irritating habit. I tell myself I need to get rid of it, as soon as possible.
Chihiro skips up to me. "Where's Miss Iris?"
"Don't know," I bark immediately. "Why would I know? She's none of my concern."
Chihiro looks taken aback, and a little annoyed at the harshness of my tone. "Oniisan, you're in a terrible mood today."
Now I feel guilty. "Sorry," I mutter. "What did you need Miss Iris for?"
"Mama wants to invite her to the Friday family dinner."
I look up from the patch of soil I've been digging. "The one to celebrate Tomiichi coming back?"
She nods. "Mama says she likes the change Iris has brought to the house."
"She likes traumatized chickens and stressed horses?"
At ten-years-old, Chihiro's becoming a rather expert eye-roller. A skill that's only been further whetted ever since Iris Monet took up post at our farm.
I'm momentarily distracted by the mental image of alluring, green eyes.
"Oniisan!" Chihiro stamps her foot. "You're not listening to me!"
"Sorry," I say hastily. "You were saying?"
"I said, it's not the farm that's changed."
"What is it then?"
The child grins wickedly as she points her index finger at me. "You."
¥
I knock on Iris's bedroom door.
"Who is it?" she calls.
Clearing my throat, I adjust the hem of my shirt. The unsettling sensation in my stomach vexes me. I cannot possibly be nervous because of Iris Monet.
"It's Akai."
She doesn't answer me for so long that I'm beginning to think she hasn't heard me. Then, the door opens.
"Hi. What's up?"
Iris looks a bit jarred. And she's absent-mindedly biting her fingernail, which she only does when she's nervous. Not that I pay attention to her habits. Not at all.
"You've been invited to the family dinner this Friday evening," I inform. "By Mrs. Satoh."
"Oh. Is there a special occasion or something?"
"Tomiichi's coming home. He's Mrs. Satoh's son. You haven't met him yet."
As I say these words, a distinct change comes across Iris's features. It's a remarkable countenance that contains at least half a dozen emotions, and it flits across her face like the shadow of an eagle. Then it's gone.
