Bite Back

Rough Around The Edges

“Where’s the girl?” Big Mom asked the servants who were to bring Wyleen to the dining hall for their morning meal.

“She—she’s in the infirmary, Mama. The doctor was in the middle of tending to her when we went to find her,” Beatrice said nervously. The other servant nodded in agreement, not meeting Big Mom’s gaze.

“Hm,” Big Mom looked over at her second-oldest son, sitting with his arms folded at the table, looking off. “Katakuri,” she started.

Katakuri cut her off, already knowing what she was going to ask, “I brought her in this morning. I went to apologize for the way I reacted at dinner, and noticed her injury.” He glanced at his mother, “She’s fine.”

Big Mom plastered a grin on her face, a bit perturbed, but was not concerned about Wyleen’s well-being, so long as the wedding would move forward. “She’s just a frail little girl, Katakuri. Be gentle with her. I hope you got your apology in, boy. We can’t have her backing out when I’m so close to having that kingdom for myself,” Big Mom laughed.

Sighing, Katakuri looked off again, not wanting to apologize to Wyleen, thinking everything was square. Eye for eye; she hurt Compote, he hurt her. “Yes, Mama,” he muttered.

Beatrice cleared her throat to get Katakuri’s attention. He looked down at her expectantly. “Yes, that would be fine.”

She kept forgetting that Katakuri was always one step ahead. “Right, do you have any preference in pastry, young master?”

“Whatever you decide is fine; I’ll be on my way after.”

“Miss Wyleen helped with the doughnuts this morning, aren’t they lovely?” She held one up for Katakuri to see, “She even made the glaze by hand.” She was trying to bring Wyleen up at any chance she could around him, hoping to win his favor for her.

Katakuri looked at the platter that was next to him on the table, “I see.” Though his expression didn’t show it from the nose up, behind his scarf, his mouth was watering. He had been waiting all morning to sink his teeth into the pastries. Giving anyone a sharp glance anytime someone made to take a doughnut off his platter.

“There you are, please enjoy, Master Katakuri.” Beatrice bowed politely as he stood to leave.

“I need you to bring flowers to my fiancé, put them at her bedside if she is asleep,” Katakuri instructed on his way past.

Beatrice blinked, surprised by his request, “Y-Yes, right away, master Katakuri.”

***

With nothing more to do other than read and rest, Wyleen had dozed off reading a book she had Beatrice bring from her room before breakfast. Beatrice had picked some magenta flowers from the garden to bring to Wyleen at Katakuri’s request. Beatrice was careful to arrange the flowers in the vase without disturbing the woman sleeping in the hospital bed. Though she did remove Wyleen’s reading glasses that were perched on her nose, and take the book from her lap to set it on the side table.

***

Carefully closing and locking the door behind him, Katakuri let out a sigh, setting the basket of doughnuts on the chest of drawers. Taking his sleeveless jacket off to drape over a chair, and his scarf off to follow suit, he made his way to the bed, where he lay down, putting his feet up. He took a moment to just look up at the ceiling, pensive, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. After a while, he absently took a doughnut from the basket, placing it between his lips, his sharp teeth cutting through the pastry with ease as he chewed. He took Wyleen for the kind of woman who would bake things “with love,” but wasn’t sure if she would ever admit something like that out loud. Or, perhaps, she wasn’t the kind to do such a thing, given how rough around the edges she was.

She came from a noble family, but what was she doing in the kitchen with the cooks, chefs, and servants? Was that where she was coming back from this morning when he caught her? Was she planning to go down to the kitchens yesterday? Was that her “early morning” she referred to last night? She did all of this with an injured hand? Katakuri looked at the half-eaten pastry in his own hand. He shook his head. Surely, she wasn’t responsible for making dozens of pastries by herself; she didn’t deserve all the credit. He tisked out loud to himself before opening his mouth to put the remaining doughnut in his maw. He thought about his wife-to-be, smiling to himself at the amusement he found in her yelling at him, holding her own against him, not being intimidated by him in the slightest. He had to admit to himself that she was audacious.

His smile faded slightly, remembering her transgressions against Compote. Katakuri resolved to tame her; he wouldn’t stand to be disrespected by such a tiny individual. His own wife, no less. She had to learn that he was in charge of her, and she was no longer in charge of herself. Her status didn’t matter here; she wasn’t going to be a little brat trying to get her way any longer. It will require a fair amount of trust, something that Katakuri hardly had to earn, being one of the pillars of the family. He was off to a bad start already, his anger proving his strength to her last night. He winced slightly, rubbing his wrist, thinking of his grip on her the evening prior.

After eating his fill, Katakuri stood up, wiping the powdered sugar and crumbs from his chest before putting his jacket and scarf back on. Big Mom wanted him to apologize to Wyleen, but he was going to get an apology from her first. He mulled over what he was going to say as he made his way to the infirmary, getting emotionally charged all the way, his frustration with her reinforced by his own thinking. He opened the door hurriedly, ducking his head through the door frame before straightening up. He looked over to see Beatrice sitting at Wyleen’s bedside as she slept.

“Master Katakuri, a pleasure,” Beatrice bowed nervously at his sudden appearance, “I hope the doughnuts were to your liking.”

Katakuri put his hand up to silence Beatrice, “You are dismissed.”

Beatrice looked at him with surprise before exiting the infirmary, “Oh, um, y-yes, sir.”

He watched Wyleen closely, the rise and fall of her chest as she slept, her head slightly tilted to the side as it rested against the pillows, and he could hear her quietly snoring. Katakuri walked around the room. He picked up the file folder that was in the bin at the foot of her bed. Flipping through it, he could see all of the doctors’ notes scribbled on the paperwork, and the handwriting was hardly legible. Finding the X-ray negative, he held it up to the natural light coming through the window to see the damage that had been done. “Damnit,” he muttered to himself, putting the file back where he had found it before rubbing his face with his hands.

“Katakuri?” Wyleen blinked, her eyes adjusting to the light, but there was no mistaking his large silhouette.

Quickly pulling his scarf back over his mouth before he turned around, “Yes?” He replied.

“Why are you here?” She was still drowsy, a side effect from the medication that helped her bones heal rapidly. It worked wonders, but took a lot of waking energy.

“I just came to see the state of you; don’t read too much into it,” he glanced to the left, away from her gaze.

“Mm,” she nodded slightly, her eyes threatening to close once more. “How’s your sister? I didn’t mean to be an ass,” Wyleen mumbled.

“My sister?” Katakuri assumed she meant what she had done to Compote at dinner. “Yes, she’s fine.”

“Good. I’m sorry I didn’t keep my composure; that wasn’t very ladylike.” Her eyes were closed again.

“No,” he agreed, keeping his distance from her. “Hell of a throw, however,” Katakuri mused, a smirk hiding behind his scarf. He looked back at Wyleen, and she seemed to be asleep once more. Walking up to her bedside, he looked down at her; silent, analyzing, watching. He brushed her messy bangs from her face with his gloved hand, staying just a moment more before taking his leave.