The kitchen knife bounces lightly on the cutting board, and the finely chopped green onions scatter softly onto a white plate. Ruka's fingertips tremble slightly, and the ribbon on her chest sways with the rhythm of finishing the cut. Her bright, flipped-out brown hair touches her cheek, and she gently tucks it behind her ear.

Her round eyes peer this way, and her eyelashes flutter just a little beyond the steaming pot. At the tip of the cooking chopsticks she offers is a single piece of freshly cut kelp. As if waiting for a signal, her throat moves up and down slightly.