Chapter Two_My Nité The Sweet Chef

Morning came, and Hinam breezed through his house chores, then quickly prepared to go open his shop.

He had swept, dusted, and cobwebbed the inside and out parts of his house.

His chickens had been fed, their coop cleaned, his cows properly checked, and fed fresh grass.

He had weeded his farm, and lastly filled his water pitchers to the brim from the nearby stream.

His martial arts skill of body duplication helped him do all these.

But he only utilized that skill when he was very sure there were no prying eyes, like now.

He had been thinking of adding goats and turkeys to his herd, but that would happen with increased revenue.

Maybe after the yearly Kirithian Temple Festival, he mused, if he sold well with his animal and farm produce, then he could buy as many goats and turkeys as he wanted.

After taking his bath, he had had a breakfast of garlic bread, and warm meat soup, then dressed up in a simple white robe with green accents, tied his hair up in a high ponytail with a light silver clasp, then completed his ensemble with brown ankle-length boots.

He had been told that he dressed quite dandy for a farmer and a chef, but he didn't mind.

He loved to look good.

Hinam approached his shop, bearing his long bamboo basket and his wooden staff, nodding to and exchanging greetings with some passersby, but his steps faltered when he noticed a huddled figure, it was squatting, with its head on its knees, right in front of his shop.

He quickly glanced around to ensure no one was paying attention to him or the figure, then hurried to the figure, and prodded it repeatedly with his long staff.

Raising its head to smile goofily at him, was the child he sternly warned yesternight, not to follow him.

Without wasting much time, Hinam dragged the child up, opened his shop and went in, then pulled the metal door back down to ensure privacy.

Dropping his basket and staff, he turned to face the adamant boy.

"Danit, is it?" He questioned, raising an irritated eyebrow.

Not backing down at all, the brave boy answered him; "But you said I could come to you for food!"

Hinam huffed in annoyance, then with his hands placed akimbo on his lean hips, started addressing the little, dirty boy;

"Yes, I did say that, but listen here you little brat; you do not have to hog my shop or parade here every time.

"I did give you some money, didn't I?" He asked, his voice rising a little due to anger.

Shaking his head vigorously, Liyal refused, "But I don't want it,"

Perplexed, Hinam asked, "You don't want it? Then what do you want?"

For answer, Liyal ran into him, hugged his thighs fiercely, and started babbling in tears, repeating over and over again, "Please let me stay, I beg of you, please let me stay!"

Hinam had never been in such a situation before.

The street urchins he helped had always been satisfied with whatever he gave them, sometimes they came back a time or two for free meals, but they never begged him to let them stay.

Most of them were wanderers, and he never offered any to remain.

But this little brat was proving to be difficult.

His situation did not allow him to make himself very conspicuous, and what better way to arouse attention than to suddenly adopt a child, and parade everywhere with it?

How troublesome!

Still fighting to pry the iron-like arms away from his legs, he huffed out, "You s-stinky brat! I'm going to open the door, and I want you to get away from here, and never come back!"

"..... Never come back....!"

The voice and sound reverberated deep in Liyal's ears, and he stepped away from Hinam like one in a daze, staggered back as far as his little feet could carry him, then collapsed like a sack of flour on the floor.

Hinam immediately panicked, thinking he had triggered off some disease in the little boy's body, and quickly rushed to where he lay.

"Danit, Danit!" He called out in fearful whispers, shaking him but got no response.

He quickly checked the boy's pulse on his neck, it was like a corpse's.

Cold hands of fear gripped his already turgid heart, as he struggled to come to the conclusion that he had indeed scared the little boy to death.

"Was he that afraid of rejection and abandonment, that he preferred to die, than be cast away?" Hinam mused worriedly, as he began to remove the little boy's dirty and tattered clothes, for him to receive more air.

"No, he can't just die; I don't want him to die..." Hinam rushed about in his mind.

"Danit, wake up!!!" He roared suddenly, his voice rattling the pots and pans in his shop.

Still the little boy lay solemnly still on the floor, like his spirit had already bid goodbye to the world.

"I'm sorry, okay...?" Hinam murmured quietly, his hand shakily caressing the little boy's matted, dark hair.

"Please come back...," He pleaded once more, his mind racing crazily.

He withdrew his hands from the boy's body, just short of forming hand seals, when a thought entered his head.

He took slow, deep breaths to calm himself, murmured some mystic words, then resolutely bent down, placed his warm lips on top of the little boy's, and began to pass warm qi into his prone body.

After a little while, Liyal's body jerked, but before Hinam could celebrate, a thunder-like shock ran through him, and he stayed still, his green-brown eyes blown wide.

"He kissed me?!" His mind raced in sudden consternation.

"H-he kissed me....? This stinky brat!!" Hinam roared in his heart.

Pushing himself away from the boy, he sat back, and wiped his moist lips with the sleeves of his garment, trying to erase the contact.

Liyal too sat up, a sheepish smile on his face.

"I'm sorry, Nité," he apologized in a little voice, and another thunder-like shock ran through Hinam.

"Nité," did, did he hear that right?

Focusing his widened eyes on Liyal, Hinam asked in a little, shaky voice, "What did you just call me?"

The half-naked boy shifted closer to Hinam, and threw his arms around him, his little head resting on Hinam's thumping chest.

"You are now my Nité, and I'm never leaving you...," the little boy solemnly swore in a low voice.

Hinam suddenly felt like hyperventilating.

How did things escalate to this?!

Hesitantly, so as not to provoke the little boy into another fainting spell, Hinam quietly soothed the little boy for a while, then carefully began to ask him questions about his life, and origin.

Liyal gave out the information he thought Hinam should know, and left out others.

"Nité will get to know everything, later," he inwardly convinced himself, of his decision.

Hinam listened with rapt attention, as the little boy narrated his years, in tales of suffering, enough to move a dead heart.

"You are safe now, Danit...," He promised the little boy.

"With me, no harm will come to you." He further vowed, his scarred hands calmly drifting through the tangled hair of the little boy, snuggled in his bosom.

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After the little episode in his shop, Hinam found an old blanket and wrapped Liyal up with it, pending when he would buy clothes for the little boy.

Thereafter he tidied his shop, then opened it for business for the day.

Moving out to set out his wooden stands, he was met with not a few people, waiting for him to take their orders.

After a few lively banters, and fending off questions as to why he opened so late, Liyal finally entered his shop to start cooking.

He washed his cooking utensils, fish and meat, diced his vegetables, then fired up his stoves.

Quickly he poured clean water into a large pot, added the vegetables, chunks of meat and fish, salt and seasonings, then closed the pot for the contents to boil.

Next he melted some butter in a wide pan on another stove, and used it to deep-fry some chicken.

Finished with the chicken, he put them on flat wooden trays, and took them outside to make quick sales.

Pocketing his money, he hurried inside to begin preparing dough for his noodles.

When he was through preparing the dough, he carefully laid the prepared lengths into the steaming pot of meat and vegetables, added more seasonings and diced pepper, then covered it again to cook.

While the large pot was boiling, Hinam received his daily ration of fresh water, and coal from his suppliers.

After paying the vendors, he proceeded to cut up the fruits he brought with him from his farm, set them in a large wooden tray, and took them outside his shop to place them on the stands.

No sooner had he stepped out than he was surrounded by little children, who crowded him, their little hands waving their monies.

"Today is really a very good day," he mused, his eyes slanting up with joy, as he made another round of quick sales.

Entering his shop again, he proceeded to feed Liyal some chunks of the deep-fried buttered chicken, a cup of hot, fresh milk, and some clean drinking water.

As the child ate, Hinam de-husked some fresh corn, and put them to boil in another pot, then added some peas, and diced carrots.

Done, he cleaned up a little, and checked up on the large pot, sipping the rich broth from his ladle.

"Ready," he thought, then stirred the thick contents twice before dishing them out in small wooden bowls.

Finished, he set down the pot, put off his stove, placed the small wooden bowls in large wooden trays, and took them outside to the people waiting for him.

It was not like he was the only chef or food-shop owner in the street, but his meals had unique, distinctive tastes, and he was quite neat, with an amiable countenance that his customers loved.

So most people naturally preferred him over others.

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Liyal watched his Nité work the batter vigorously, with a short, flat, wooden turner, sweat dripping from his brow.

His Nité really looked tired.

Some dark hair strands escaped his white headscarf, and his apron was heavily stained with grease, and other food condiments.

Silently he vowed to grow stronger, quicker, and faster to help his Nité.

Hinam felt Liyal staring at him, and turned to give the boy a bright smile, as he still furiously turned the batter, in preparation for his sweets and pastries.

"....His little enigma...."