[color=darkorange]"Ah, be careful...!" [i]Did I frighten her?[/i][/color] So much for not insulting her, somehow he's already managed to scare her by just walking into the room. What in his actions yesterday made her afraid of him? Chunjiro tries to remember, but most of the memories are too painfully embarrassing to revisit. Maybe it's just post-marriage ceremony jitters; he knows he's got them, but Haru? It's hard to tell with her, mostly because he's only known her for a day and a half. Was she always this... clumsy? 

Watching Haru picks up the fragments one by one, though, makes Chunjiro's older brother instincts kick in. He barely suppresses the urge to jump up and grab the dustpan and hand broom from the corner of the room, the fear of Haru cutting herself compounded by similar incidents in his past. His younger sister, Maika, was an excellent cook, but had a bad habit of leaving dishes stacked precariously on the counter, just waiting for a stray elbow to topple them. Thank goodness her limbs are nowhere to be seen in Chunjiro's small house, or else she'd have broken every piece of his china by now. 

..Though Haru seems to be on that track already. Chunjiro watches with confusion as Haru looks around the room, apparently looking for something... Oh.

[color=darkorange]"A-ah, you can put them in there,"[/color] he says, pointing to a modest, large ceramic pot that sits near the stove. Of [i]course[/i]. She doesn't know her way around the house. Anyone placed in a new environment would be anxious, not knowing where things are and being forced to interact with new people. At times like these, it's Chunjiro's duty to make sure Haru has everything, and can find everything, she needs to live here. But first...  

[color=darkorange]"No, no, just Chunjiro is fine,"[/color] Chunjiro says, flushing at the mere sound of [i]Anata [/i]coming from Haru's lips. That is way--way too mature for him right now. That's like... mom and dad talking to each other! But then again, if he calls her Ka-san...! 

[color=darkorange]"But i-if you'd like, you can call me by a nickname... Barely anyone calls me by my full name at the village, so..."[/color] [i][color=darkorange]Because nobody calls a stranger by their first name... but with the amount of siblings I have, calling everyone "Kato" just isn't viable...[/color][/i] Thus, the idea of nicknames was born, and with it, a variety of silly names for Chunjiro. He's gotten used to everything from "Chu-kun" (his siblings) to "Kato-san" (his clients) and even "Chun-san." 

[center][color=f6989d]“Tea?”[/color]

[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/48cbc989-ad8e-4943-827c-08cf09fc5aaa.gif[/img][/center]

...Her hands tremble as they pour the tea, but Chunjiro doesn't even notice. His heart pounds in his ears, eyes drawn at once to the her small, pink lips, yet darting to her eyes, flashing like fish scales when they're hit by the sun, yet pulled her neck, her pale skin, her--

--The spout of the teapot clinks against the cup, dipping with Haru's shaky hands. Chunjiro breathes in, a tremendous, shaky breath that fills his lungs and makes his head dizzy, and realizes an important truth just before it slips out of reach again, forgotten. Haru's voice, rambling that Chunjiro catches onto five seconds too late, breaks through the daze. He blinks. Where was he, again? He looks down at his lap, and is surprised to find a cup of tea resting in his hands. [color=darkorange][i]Ah.[/i][/color] 

[color=darkorange]"Don't worry about breakfast, I'm not allergic to anything,"[/color] he says, just a beat late. [color=darkorange]"I don't have time to eat anything elaborate, anyway... B-but, thank you for the tea."[/color]