Mizuki had put some of his cologne on Kitarō for the date. Medama gave him a couple of tips that Kitarō took with care, after all his dad had only been with only a Ghost Tribe woman over a hundred years ago and he didn't think he was very up to date on how to impress modern young ladies. Still, that familiar little move filled Kitarō with confidence.

“Where do you want to go, Kitarō?”, Neko-chan asked, her voice always soft and melodious, a caress to Kitarō's ears like the purr of a cat.

“I was thinking of a coffee shop”. Where he had already made a reservation with Mizuki's help. “Do you like sweets, Neko-chan?”, his hands were shaking, he was nervous, about to forget how to speak.

“I've never been to one. I think it would be fun, I've always wanted to try cakes or the sweets that go with tea.”

A smile lit up Kitarō's face, inside he was elated. Things were coming together perfectly and naturally.

All the kids he had come across made fun of him or pushed him away commenting on how ugly and unpleasant he was, but Neko-chan was always different and now Kitarō was more than sure it wasn't out of pity or formality. She really wanted to be there with him.

They entered to the coffee shop. The place had an attractive mix of Japanese and Western style, it was small but almost every table was occupied by groups of two or three people tasting towers with cakes, European breads or Japanese sweets. The smell of everything being served was delicious and Neko-chan's eyes sparkled with excitement.

They sat down at the corresponding table and two menu cards were left for them. Neko-chan decided on a small wagashi tasting accompanied by matcha tea for two. Kitarō was not very fond of sweet things, but he was eager to try and discuss with her which one was more or less delicious.

They were served an elegant set of teapot, cups and small plates with different colorful and variously shaped sweets: mochi varieties, chestnuts, steamed buns and bean jelly.

“Look at this one”, Neko-chan commented, touching her fork to a pink mochi wrapped in a green sakura leaf. “It looks like a rice flower. It must be like tasting a mouthful of spring, don't you think, Kitarō?”, and she gave him a tender smile.

And what did spring taste like? Kitarō had never thought about the seasons in that way. Maybe because when money was tight, every day, every month, tasted like cold, toasted, hard or freshly bought koppepan.

He knew well that, on the sly Neko-chan would fall into the instinctive desire to eat the mice that got caught in the traps in the apartment Mizuki rented, and then she would be so embarrassed that she would not be seen or heard for the rest of the day. That's why Kitarō wanted to do something special and fancy, things that classy people who didn't let out unearthly meows like her did.

And from time to time, Kitarō could play that he was a gentleman with a full purse to invite Neko-chan to nice places with delicious things, without rats or anything that would threaten his yōkai side (which she would never recognize as such). They could not think about what human society demanded of them and enjoy what they normally couldn't do without fear of having their secrets discovered or having nasty things yelled at them.

“It's delicious.” Kitaro could hear a very low purr. “We have to come back another time, Kitarō.”

“I'd love to, Neko-chan.”

Spring had never tasted as good as it did that day.