Shiina Kisaragi's POV:
"You want to impress him with your cooking?"
"I try and try but he has issues with everything I make. Not once has he smiled wholeheartedly and said a meal of mine was delicious. Until the day it becomes a reality, I'm not giving up!"
Mao, crouched behind the island of our kitchen, stared up at me with a contemplative frown. "Why not stuff a bunch of his favourites inside?"
"I did, once," I said, sneaking glances at the stove. "But he scolded me to consider a balanced diet from all the food groups."
"Oh. He's like that. Is he worth the fuss, then? In my opinion, Shiina's lunches are already tasty. If he can't see that, his taste buds don't deserve Shiina's effort."
"Kamakiri's cooking puts mine to shame," I argued. "One bite and you'll never want to eat anything else."
She bloated her cheeks. "Mao still doesn't approve. Kamakiri is the demon who made Shiina cry. Mao should be cursing him to go bald. With his handsomeness gone, you'll be forced to leave him before he hurts you again."
So she was holding a grudge. . . Chie carried similar sentiments when I told them about our relationship. I hadn't outright stated that they were the same individual, but somehow, they'd figured it out. They grilled him the day I first brought him over. While Chie dropped the subject rather quickly, Mao gripped onto the past for dear life.
"I cried because I set my expectations too high," I excused as I tended to the food. "Kamakiri apologized. He's different now."
"Mao'll believe it when she sees it."
I sighed. She got her stubbornness from Mom.
"Shiina gave him her whole heart, but he's still holding back with his."
"He isn't."
"He doesn't trust Shiina enough. If he did, he'd rely on Shiina more. He'd be vulnerable with Shiina more. The way it looks to Mao, he's still keeping secrets from Shiina."
I halted my stirring. "Kamakiri. . . would tell me if it was important. Just because we're dating doesn't mean we have to tell each other everything."
"Then why does Shiina bare her entire thoughts and feelings with him? She can be open with him. Doesn't it sting that he can't do the same?"
He was open to me. Maybe not in the manner Mao or others expected, but the softheartedness and kindness he displayed only towards me. . . it existed. I loved the him that tried to hide his awkwardness and frailty, even when his actions and words were a dead giveaway.
"People don't change overnight," she added. "He was a troublemaker at one point, wasn't he? Sure he apologized, but he lied to Shiina so easily. Even now, he could be—"
"I'll get angry if you finish that sentence."
My levelled threat quieted her in an instant. She stiffened, burying the bottom of her face behind the counter.
"Mao. . . just doesn't want Shiina to be in pain again."
Expelling a breath to hopefully blow off the complicated sentiments swelling within me, I readjusted her witch's hat.
"I understand, Mao. The Kamakiri you're talking about and the Kamakiri I fell for are the same person. I'm not ignoring the past and what happened between us. He has his flaws like we do—like anyone else. I know that. But, equally, he has his virtues. And I love him having taken all that into consideration."
"Mao doesn't doubt that he loves you too," she added, sheepishly. "That much is obvious when he visits. But. . . but Mao is simply looking out for you, for a lack of better words."
"I know." I connected our foreheads, mimicking her smile. "I have the best little sister in the world."
It took me over a year before I had the courage to explicitly mention Mom to others again. I hadn't the slightest clue about Kamakiri's relationship with his parents, but obviously, he was uncomfortable about openly discussing them. Generally, Kamakiri didn't 'bare his thoughts and feelings' with anyone. That said, he wasn't the type to withhold his misgivings either.
If it was worth mentioning, he'd have done it with as grand of malice as whenever his brother entered the conversation.
Chie poked her head into the kitchen, crinkling her nose. "Is it me or is something burning?"
I leaped from Mao.
Oh no!
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
"Kamakiri, Kamakiri!" I burst through the doors to his private room in the library. "I'm here!"
The darkness that encased the room stopped me in my tracks. It'd become a daily occurrence, me barrelling inside to reconnect with him here come lunch. Every time, I found him with his nose buried in a book. Which was precisely why this situation—this unnatural, foreboding darkness—issued my caution.
Had he not arrived? If he was late, that wouldn't explain why the door was unlocked. He was adamant absolutely nobody—not even the librarian—step foot inside, especially without his supervision. He also regularly skipped class; attended solely for important examinations and to keep his attendance at the bare minimum necessary to graduate.
My left foot inched backwards.
I could always come back—
Right as I spun around to book it back into the light, the door slammed. Goosebumps coated my skin. My breath hitched at the back of my throat. Since my eyesight hadn't quite adjusted, the blackness coated everything—even the door.
"I-If you were in here, you should've said something."
His arms swung around me from behind, over my abdomen, and enveloping me in sufficient heat to melt my nerves and stiff limbs. "You're late," he murmured into my shoulder blade.
My skin flamed like a wildfire. "My homeroom teacher dragged his lesson past the bell. U-um, Kamakiri?"
"I have something for you. Don't move."
I resisted a shiver at his soft breath that tickled my ear. Gnawing my bottom lip, I did as instructed. He withdrew and strolled towards the adjacent bookshelf. What was going on? Was I dreaming?
I swallowed.
No, this was reality. In that case, how do I decipher this? He had a surprise for me? Seeing as he went so far as to shut the lights and close the door. . .
The hairs at the back of my neck rose. My heartbeat spiked. Was it that perfume I sprayed after gym class, the one I borrowed from Kiharu?
"Believe me!" she'd insisted. "It was sold to me as a seduction magnet. One spritz and you'll have men putting hands all over you!"
It was yet another one of her jokes, and I wasn't idiotic enough to believe such heresy. Perfume aside. . . maybe it wasn't a stretch to say that my beauty itself was to blame. I was irresistible.
I clapped my cheeks and whipped my head left and right.
"B-but we're still at school. Just because we're in private doesn't mean we can get away with anything—"
"Get your mind out of the gutter."
I parted my eyelids. He flickered on the LED lights, dousing the room in a dim white glow. Kamakiri's straight-faced demeanour stood out like a sore thumb. I recoiled, and promptly reran what I'd uttered.
"I—I—"
"You want me to come onto you that badly?"
My blush scalded my skin. Although I opened my mouth, indiscernible sounds were all that erupted. I couldn't defend myself. He tilted my chin back to coolly scan my eyes. His palm was cool against my scorching cheek and ear.
"I guess we are alone in here. These walls are essentially soundproof. Time-wise, though. . ."
"Time isn't the issue with that!"
The smirk that Kamakiri displayed caused my lungs to collapse. It was his trademark expression—the mischievous one he wore whenever he messed with me.
"What is, then?"
"That—that—" I said. Flustered as I was, it was hardly a good rebuttal. Ducking from his line of sight—utterly mortified—I repeatedly thwacked his chest. "If you weren't so misleading—"
"If I weren't?"
I flushed a humiliating scarlet.
"Don't take everything I say at face value, tomato cheeks," he said. "It's obvious I'm teasing you."
Obviously!
"Besides, if I were to come onto you, it wouldn't be at school. Or before we put proper thought and consideration into it. I'm shocked you're not as innocent as I assumed."
Kill me now.
He snorted, baring a sparkly smile. "Turn around. It's nowhere as exciting, but we wouldn't want the surprise I prepared for you to go to waste."
Although I desperately wished to argue that he was wrong, that I viewed him the purest of intentions, my curiosity got the better of me. I pivoted on my foot. At the centre of the room, laying on top of a picnic blanket were rows of mouthwatering foods wafting tantalizing scents. The backdrop of the makeshift night sky set the intimate mood.
"What's all this?" I said, sparkly-eyed as I collapsed before the glistening dishes.
"I cooked extra."
Extra? It was a whole buffet. Moreover, they were all my favourites.
"You made this for me?" I asked as he took the spot beside me.
Knowing lying was futile, he caved, glancing elsewhere. "I thought it wouldn't hurt. You're always cooking for me. Besides, you've been getting a pretty big head lately, thinking you're better than me. I had to put you in your place."
It was a painful pill to swallow, but, he wasn't wrong. Based on aroma alone, I was already salivating. The difference in our abilities was far too great.
Still, this must've taken him hours. He went so far as to set up the room so fancily, too.
I beamed. "You're so dishonest. Just say you wanted to cook for me."
He bashfully pursed his mouth. "Are you eating it or not?"
"I will! I'll savour every bite!"
"How are you already drooling?" He sighed. "You're a dog through and through."
"Am not!" Blushing, I rubbed the unintentional saliva that spilled from the corner of my mouth.
"If you spin three times and bark for me, I'll give you another reward."
"No need!" I balled my fists on my lap, filling my cheek with air. "What's with you? Are you into submissive girls who bark and treat you like their master?"
"They're my ideal type," he answered without skipping a beat.
He was kidding (at least, I hoped so), but even then, it was difficult to keep a straight face.
"That's a joke, right?" I asked, just in case. "You fell in love with me, and I don't do any of that. I never will. Unless—unless, you secretly want me to—"
His smirk widened, eyebrow raised as if to imply his innocence.
A blush seared my face. Unable to make sense of his mixed signals, I frowned. There was no way I was considering it. I wasn't going to discard my dignity for the boy I loved, even if it meant he might fall deeper in love with me.
Nope. Wasn't going to do it.
Not doing it.
"W. . . woof."
Dear, God?
It was Shiina calling.
Please kill me now.
"What? Not going to get down on all fours, too?"
My cheeks had scorched. Tongue, in knots. My whole body had burst into flames.
"Come on," he prompted. "Roll over. Or would you rather shake?"
My mortification at an all-time high, I crumbled, and threw consecutive punches into his shoulder blade. "Stop messing with me!"
"Then, stop being so easy to mess with." He grabbed my wrists, stopping me mid-hit. A playful smile appeared, lightening his brown eyes. He fastened his arms around my waist, keeping me rooted in place. "Jeez. Don't you get embarrassed?"
I couldn't bear making eye contact with his face as close as it was.
"Y-you said you'd like it."
"Sarcastically." He sighed, heavily. Then, and only then, did I notice the rosiness of his complexion. "I tease you a little and you take it seriously. Every. Single. Time. Even when I pushed you away—gave you every reason to hate me—you came right back. Visited me here until I even started looking forward to seeing you every day. Until this room became ours, and not mine. You're going to be the end of me, Kisaragi."
My eyes widened.
Kamakiri rarely got this flustered. On every occasion, he flaunted his cool and composed attitude. This awkwardness and rambling, it was unbearably cute. Was it weird that I was secretly glad nobody else but me got to see this side of him?
The counters of my mouth tugged upwards. "So, what I'm hearing is: you can't get enough of me. I'm not sure I see what the big deal is."
His amusement doubled, likely as a result of my cockiness.
"It's a big deal when the only company I've ever wanted is yours."
Wait. Really?
"I've never been this close with anybody. Figuratively and literally." For a brief moment, his eyes glossed over. "Stupid as it sounds, this level of intimacy is a big deal to me."
It was a cute declaration. Flirting for the sole purpose of setting my heart aflutter. However, Kamakiri meant it.
He conveyed every word to its literal definition, lonely and painful as it sounded.
When he said I was the only one, I was the only one.
Soon, he closed the space between us. I had to force my never-ending stream of questions to the far recesses of my mind—focus on our kiss—which was difficult when my thoughts roamed places it shouldn't have.
That was how the next fifteen minutes passed.