Mischievous Function

TSKRice

Meanwhile, at the hotel...

"I'm glad that the Summit has these small rentable kitchen spaces on the third floor of the hotel with every kind of standard kitchen appliance we'll need," Two suddenly said out loud for no particular reason at all as he poured a cup of rice into a rice cooker while staring at a nondescript point in space. "It makes justifying a scene in which people cook rice balls inside a hotel so much easier."

Loser and Cake glanced at each other with confused expressions before Cake spoke up. "What do you mean, justifying a scene?" he asked. "And you already commented on the rentable kitchen spaces when we first got here a few minutes ago. Why did you feel the need to say it again?"

"To break the fourth wall and provide an in-universe reason to the readers as to why we're cooking inside a hotel, of course."

"...What...fourth wall?" Loser asked. "There's no fourth wall in this kitchen space. Or...third wall. Or second wall, either."

"Yeah, it's kind of an open floor plan type of thing," Cake added, gesturing around at the kitchen space in the middle of the much-larger-than-normal hallway. "And what readers are you talking about? Wha—who are you even talking to?"

Loser and Cake both looked around the area for the nondescript point in space that Two was staring at, but before they could find it, Two clapped his hands twice and turned to the both of them. "All right!" he told them. "That should be all the rice we need for the onigiri. Paintbrush, you've got the water?"

"Yup," they said as they walked over to Two with a quart-size jug (or 0.946353-liter-size jug, for those people) full of water. "So what do I do, just pour it in?"

"Yeah!" Two plugged the rice cooker into the nearby outlet and stepped aside as Paintbrush uncapped the jug. "Don't pour it too fast; make sure it doesn't splash everywhere."

"Got it."

After several seconds of pouring the water into the rice cooker, during which Two stared directly at Paintbrush with an unsettlingly amiable smile that they did not appreciate, they screwed the cap back onto the jug and set it on the counter. "Okay, now what?"

"Now," Two answered, "you have to knead the rice to make sure the water's spread evenly throughout. Your hands are clean, correct?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Good, because mine aren't." Two walked toward the kitchen sink on the other side of the kitchen space. "I'm going to go wash my hands now, and then I'll go check on Trophy, Knife, Blocky, and Pen to see if they'll be ready for taste-testing. Soap, would you mind cleaning the counter?"

Soap nodded rapidly and whipped out a rag and a bottle of cleaner seemingly out of thin air. "With pleasure," she answered as they started spraying the countertops.

After she had covered a wide enough area in cleaner, she gripped her rag and started to scrub the counter while humming a song to herself as Loser and Cake prepared the furikake and nori on the other side of Paintbrush. She had been wiping off the counters for a while when she arrived next to Paintbrush and was about to ask them to move a bit when she saw their hands. "Paintbrush, what are you doing?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Mixing the rice with the water," they replied as they let out a bored sigh. "Why couldn't Two have just given me a spoon to do this instead of making me use my hands?"

Soap scoffed. "Because that's not how you're supposed to do it," she answered in a deadpan tone. "You're supposed to mix the rice with the water. You're just swirling your hand around; that's not doing anything."

"Well, how am I supposed to do it, then?"

Soap rolled her eyes and laid her cleaner and rag on the counter next to them before taking off her gloves and submerging her hands into the small pool of rice. She balled up a handful of the soaked grains in each hand and squished them before opening her hands again and letting the rice disperse. Then, she swirled her hands around one time in the water before balling up another two handfuls and repeating the same thing. "Like that," she told them as she withdrew her hands.

While Soap dried her hands on a nearby hand towel, Paintbrush dipped their hands back into the rice cooker and hesitantly grabbed a handful of grains. They made an uncomfortable face as they brought it up to eye level and examined it before funneling it out of the bottom of their fist back into the rice cooker.

"No, no, not like that!" Soap sighed as she pulled out a small bottle of hand sanitizer and doused her hands with it. "You gotta get your hands in it. Don't be afraid to get a little wet and dirty, Paintbrush."

Now it was Paintbrush's turn to roll their eyes as they shook their head, glared down at the rice cooker, and plunged their hands into it. Although they moved their hands around in the water, their fingers were still extended and rigid inside the rice, which Soap was quick to point out. "Geez, Paintbrush, are you a robot or something?" she scoffed, slipping her gloves back onto her hands. "Just...be natural with it. Knead it, squish it, just—oh!"

"What?"

"I know how to explain to you how to do it."

"How?"

"Pretend it's Lightbulb."

The mischievous smirk on Soap's face gave way to a hearty cackle as a sudden bright blush surfaced on Paintbrush's face. "A-and just what is that supposed to mean?!" they asked, a flustered mix of frustration and embarrassment.

Soap giggled and replied with a cheeky grin, "Use your imagination. You've done it before, haven't you?"

Before Paintbrush could think of a comeback, Soap had already taken her cleaner and rag across the kitchen to a different counter. They let out a low huff and turned back to the rice cooker as they thought about what Soap said.

Soon, however, they found themselves staring at the mixture of water and grains in a manner more contemplative than even they themselves would have predicted. After a moment's thought, they quickly peeked side to side discreetly, making sure no one was watching them too carefully. Then, they submerged their hands in the rice cooker.

A low exhale escaped out their nose as their left hand cupped a handful of rice. They tightened their grip on the grains until they balled up into a hard clump, then gently rubbed their thumb across the clump to diffuse any rough, outlying grains. They grunted softly while they dug the rest of their left hand's fingers into the clump, tunneling and exploring every inch of it before it dissolved back into several individual grains. Their right hand clumped up another handful, and their breathing grew slightly heavier as they dug their thumb into it, scraping off flecks of rice with every motion. While their right hand worked over its clump, their left one gathered up yet another clump before flattening it on the bottom of the rice cooker, and they gently yet firmly kneaded the patch of rice with the bottom of their palm as they began to shut their eyes. Their left palm moved backward and forward, backward and forward, in an almost hypnotic fashion as their left thumb swept in some extra grains of rice with every retraction. By now, their right hand had already crushed its clump to pieces, so it gathered up a new one and held the ball tightly with its thumb, ring, and little fingers while its index and middle fingers penetrated deep into the clump, frisking through it and forming little entrances for water to flow inside while curiously massaging a particularly stubborn mini-clump near the top of the ball. Meanwhile, their left hand continued to fondle what remained of its patch of rice until it, too, finally dissolved. They threw their head back slightly and let out a soft moan, eyes still shut, as their left index and middle fingers began to trace a soaking wet path along the bottom of the rice cooker. Their breathing grew faster and heavier as they balled up yet another clump of rice with their left hand and—

"Paintbrush!"

"AH! Wh-what?"

Their eyes suddenly flew open as they whirled around, trying to locate the voice that had  aroused them from their dazed thoughts.

"You good?" Cake asked with a concerned frown. "Your...face is red, and you're sweating. And...you're breathing so fast that you sound like you're about to pass out—"

"C-can you take over the rice for a minute?" they quickly asked, turning away from Cake in an attempt to hide their hot and bothered expression. "Or two? Or twenty?"

"Uh...are you okay—"

They gave him a dismissive wave and said, "I-I just...have to use the restroom. I'll be back." With that, they hurried off down the hall toward the nearest restroom, leaving Cake and the rest of the cooking crew a little bit more than confused.

The rice, on the other hand, was waiting patiently and eagerly for their return.