"It was a dark and stormy night."
It is a hot summer's day, and the sun beats down relentlessly on the Uchiura beach hut. The sand, cooler beneath the shade, glows dangerously white directly beneath the sunlight, and the waves of the ocean, crashing weakly along the shore, shimmer a transparent greenish-blue.
"Issei climbed out of the car into the pouring rain and, opening the backseat door, helped his maid Rias out - "
Hanamaru slams the book shut. Even she, a renowned bookworm, can't focus in this confounded heat. She will head indoors (which, due to a lack of real ventilation, is no cooler than outdoors) and try for what could be the fifth time today to start on her new book. "It's Chika's fault, zura," she mutters, pushing through the swinging saloon doors.
Chika had been assigned to beach cafe duty by her sisters, but had begged Maru to take her place. "They're having a huge mikan sale in Izunokuni that I can't miss, do you know how many coupons I've been saving this year for this, please help me!" she had wailed, teary-eyed, into her face. You, who had already been pulled into helping out, grinned apologetically at Maru. "Dia and Ruby are on trip with their parents and Kanan's running the diving store and Yoshiko is rushing her holiday homework-"
"Serves her right, zura-"
"-Riko has a piano concert coming up and Mari is busy entertaining the Italian Prime Minister-"
"-wait, what?!"
"-so I really need your help and I can't miss the miKAN SALE PLEASE-"
Maru had raised her hands in defeat. "Okay, okay! I'll do it, zuraaa!"
With snot running from her nose Chika had thanked her nasally and had given her a bone-crunching hug. And thus began Hanamaru's one-day experience of beach cafe duty.
Sighing, she plops down behind the battered saloon doors and stares dully at the ocean. How I wish I was in a cool, dry place, settling down with a good book and some tasty snacks to chew on!
A shuffling noise from behind her causes her to turn her head in its direction. "...You?"
The back door of the hut clicks shut as the sailor's daughter smiles. "Hey, Hanamaru! I'm back from grocery shopping - whoa, you look really done in." You whistles lowly and Maru gives her a grunt in response.
"You've always been athletic so you're handling it better, huh, You," she groans listlessly.
The older girl ponders for a moment, setting down her plastic bag onto the table. Suddenly her eyes light up. "Hey, I'll make you something that'll get you up in a jiffy!"
Maru's ears perk. "Food, zura?"
You chortles. "Yup, food, zura!" Opening the fridge, she takes both trays of ice cubes out and cracks them all with expertise into a large bowl. From inside a cupboard she retrieves a plastic manual grinder, and set a glass cup beneath it. As she dumps the ice cubes into the grinder, she begins turning the handle.
Interested now, Maru props her head up on her elbows. "What're you makin', zura?"
Over the crunching noises of the grinder and the distant sound of the waves, she hears You's cheerful voice. "You'll see in a minute!"
Maru squints. "...I don't want to suffer through another plate of Fallen Angel's Tears-"
"-it's not that!"
After a few minutes the mystery is uncovered. "Shaved ice, zuraa!" Maru warbles, her mouth watering. Shimmering ice, packed full in the cup and with mango cubes strewn decoratively, glistens with honey stripes that form crisscrossing lines across it. "Gimme some!"
The second year laughs good-naturedly and sits down opposite Maru across the table. "Here, ahhh," she chants, holding up a spoonful of glittering, delicate yellow ice to Maru's mouth. Maru opens her mouth and bites down on the spoon.
Flavour skyrockets. In her mouth, her taste buds flower. A melangé of crispness and parching honey trickle across her tongue; under her teeth, the mango cubes melt effortlessly into a stinging, sticky nectar as the contact of pure sharp ice sends shudders down her spine.
"This... is bliss," she manages, eyes tearing up. She has literally never tasted anything this good.
Actually, is You feeding her? She observes You's intense gaze, the soft, feminine contact of her thighs on her own, the collar of her shirt dipping low enough to -
Hastily jabbing You with a finger, she opens her mouth again, face burning as her mind shamefully constructs sufficient imagery of the trail of thoughts she was about to go down. She needs to cut down on those... ahem... mature-themed books Riko gave her; particularly because You is a very, very attractive girl. "Ah!"
You rolls her eyes and feeds her anyways, blissfully unaware of Maru's humiliation. "Okay, okay!"
As she chews, Maru is overcome with a strange, distant feeling. She glances at You. Honestly, she doesn't know her upperclassman that well. They've only ever interacted during Aqours meetings and practice, and even then they don't talk much - You is simply friendly with everyone, and Maru usually sticks with Ruby or Yoshiko. She feels a pang of sadness and a sudden, burning desire to know You better. Where did she learn to cook so well? How often does she swim a week? What does she do on her dad's ship?
They are suddenly interrupted by a voice coming from outside. "Whoa, that looks really good!"
Both turn. A few girls around their age are peering over the saloon doors, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of You's masterpiece. "Could we get one too?"
The question takes some time to kick in, and when it does You shoots up out of her chair, prodding an indignant Maru in her face with the spoon. "Oh, sure! How many, and what flavour?"
Maru takes slow, savouring bites of her shaved ice and watches the line of customers grow rapidly, stepping in to help with the cashier work, but as the number of paying people dwindle and the number of waiting people soars, it grows evident that You is having a hard time keeping up. The first year timidly washes her (now empty) bowl in the sink, her uncertain gaze fixated on her upperclassman, sweating with exertion and keeping up a cheerful front despite her stress and exhaustion. The line of customers is only lengthening outside, and from the murmurs just within her earshot, Maru has a feeling that the hot weather is not doing anything to improve their patience.
Maru wants to help.
She has no idea how to.
Finally her conscience snaps and she blurts out,"Uh, You, is there anything I could do to help?"
You looks up from the frying pan, but before she can answer the microwave beeps and she rushes over to attend to it, the pan clattering on the stove.
Maru's confidence withers. She flails her hands stupidly, shifting from foot to foot and keeping her eyes trained on You's sweat-stained shirt as she hastily arranges a Youkisoba. "There's a lot of orders and I know it's hard to deal with all of them, so..."
Steam hisses its ways into You's face and Maru steps over meekly to wipe at her friend's forehead with a tissue. You shoots her a sheepish grin and the younger girl feels a pang of admiration for her. As usual, You is cheery, energetic, and impossible to put down, almost the exact opposite of Maru's shy, reserved, and often pessimistic nature. Stiffening, she realises that she has left You to do all the work so far and that she has been doing nothing, at all, to help. What kind of a friend am I? she berates herself quietly. I gotta make it up to You, and to Chika, as well!
She squares her shoulders. "You, lemme help, zura."
You turns away from the customer up front. She eyes Hanamaru, then breaks into a smile. "Okay, alright. You can help." She scans the room with her blue eyes wide. "Hmm...whaddya wanna try doing?"
Maru swallows thickly. "Anything you need help with."
Her arms crossed, You ponders for a moment. A flash of inspiration sparks in her eyes. "Hey, there are a lot of customers, and the cashier seems relatively easy to handle, so why don't we get you onto cooking first?"
Maru blinks, not registering properly.
You's energy seems to be rekindled, and she bustles around, arranging utensils and ingredients. "You could try a couple of the shaved ice orders, they're pretty easy..."
Maru blinks again.
"Or maybe a takoyaki...no, that's a little to hard to handle..."
...cooking?
"The shaved ice machine works like this..."
"C-cooking, zura?!" Maru screeches. Outside, the murmuring pauses, and then restarts with double intensity.
Despite her shock, You recovers quickly and shakes her head. "Oh, uh, if you're not comfortable with it then you don't have to, Hanamaru," she tacks on hastily.
This interrupts Maru's reverie. That's right - I said I would help Chika, that I would help You! she reminds herself fiercely, ignoring You's concerned deadpan gaze. If that means cooking for the beach hut, then... then... so be it!
So be it.
Hanamaru Kunikida will cook.
It can't be rocket science. She knows how to roast sweet potatoes. She has read enough books to have a general sense of cooking.
Like.
Enough.
She hopes.
First, she tries to dumps the ice into the grinder like You did it. Except that she isn't prepared for how heavy the cubes are. Her grip loosening on the bowl, she clumsily tips it over the edge; a few cubes ricochet out and into her face. Slightly miffed, and with her cheeks quickly heating up in embarrassment, Maru looks around suspiciously to make sure You hasn't witnessed. She is meant to be impressing You, not worrying her. Thankfully, the second year is still too busy handing out multiple orders of curry rice to notice.
Okay, not too bad, she reassures herself. Next is...
She takes hold of the plastic handle, which is still a little warm and clammy from You's touch, and takes a deep breath before forcefully pressing down on the handle. A scraping, rasping noise scratches out from the grinder, and she takes a step back, wary, but keeps pressing down on the handle. She doesn't want another ice cube in the face.
The handle is not turning as smoothly as You made it look. Maru is perplexed. There's nothing that she recalls doing wrong.
Well, she's barely done anything but pour ice into a bucket. But anyways.
Why isn't it turning? She exerts more force. The ice grates painfully. Frowning, she uses both hands and pushes hard on the handle.
Her first mistake. The grinder flips onto its side and ice splatters onto the counter; her dumbass grabs at the ice, trying to make the fall quieter, and the cold makes her fingers sore and numb. She whips around to check if You has heard. She really doesn't want her upperclassman seeing her like this - not only because it's embarrassing, but because she knows that You won't let her help out anymore. And she can't have that.
So she dumps a fresh bowl of ice into the grinder and tries again.
It's been ten minutes and she's still grinding.
The ice is mostly water now, and the bowl beneath the grinder is half full with it. Maru can feel hot tears of frustration pressing at the back of her eyes, but still she pushes diligently at the handle, hoping against hope that something will happen. What in the name of the gods of Japan is she doing wrong?
Behind her the line is thinning - the peak hour where hungry, hormonal adolescents sweaty from the heat and beach volleyball came in to scavenge for snacks has passed, and the sun is setting. The atmosphere only widens the empty pit in Maru's stomach. You left You to work alone, in the heat, for so long, that the day'll be over before you learn how to grind ice, a nasty voice hisses in her head. Biting her lip, she chases the thought away and turns the handle miserably, watching water drip sadly into the bowl.
A thud from behind her makes her turn her head, ashamed. You has collapsed into the nearest chair, the last of the customer line finally walking away. When her blue gaze meets Maru's gold, she offers a weary, fond smile that feels like a stabbing pierce through the younger girl's heart. "Yo, Hanamaru," she laughs. "How's the ice?"
Maru closes her eyes, then counts to ten. Slowly.
And then launches herself into You's open arms, the grinder rattling on the counter. "Youuuuuuuu!"
You guffaws with laughter as Maru sobs into her shirt. "God, Maru, it's fine, really!"
Maru cannot believe herself. She... can't accept herself. For all that talking about wanting to impress and get closer to You, all she's done is waste around five kilograms of ice and make more work for her friend to pick up after.
She's so useless. Not just as a junior, but also as an assistant chef. As a friend.
Her lower lip trembles and like a dam breaking everything surges forward.
"I'm so, so sorry, zuraaa-"
"-Hanamaru, it's good, man, you helped out great with the cashier-"
"-I'm sorry I can't even grind ice-"
"-well, okay, yeah, but it's alright-"
"-Youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu-"
"-Hey, it's okay - oh my god, Hanamaru, you're drooling on me! Hanamaru!"
So she's hopeless at cooking.
Apparently You is okay with that. "Hey, it's good as long as we helped Chika out, right?" You reassures her. Cheekily, she adds,"I'll keep your shaved ice a secret, too, so don't worry 'bout it, yeah?"
Maru pouts at her and locks the beach hut door behind her. "If you tell anyone about my cooking, I'll tell the gods to send you a curse, zura." Work hours are finally over, and though she barely did anything except man the cashier, she can feel tension building in muscles that will be undoubtedly sore tomorrow. She can't imagine how You is feeling. Yeah, she's athletic, but there must be a limit to how much a teenage girl exerts herself. Especially in the confounded heat they toiled through this afternoon.
You looks unfazed and gives her a brazen wink that for some strange reason makes Maru's face feel hotter. Throughout the day You has pulled a few moves that have alternately made Maru's heartbeat increase wildly (because, yeah, feeding her bite by bite wasn't enough) or caused her stomach to do backflips more intense than Chika's MIRACLE WAVE stunt (no, You, slapping people's butts does not make them feel calmer). Maru is, at this point, so confused that she honestly wouldn't mind if You suddenly decides to kiss her.
(No. Oh god. What is she thinking? She's normally never like this.)
She decides to blame Riko.
"Hey, let's get ramen together, Hanamaru!" You calls as she pinwheels down the dim street. Clouds streaked with fiery orange have been painted roughly onto the dull blue sky, and if she squints Maru can make out the edges of the sun, a majestic, gilded coin in the blurry furnace of twilight. The waves whisper otherworldly messages to the cawing seagulls pecking about on the grey beach. Sand pricks at Maru's bare feet as she trods after You. It is a beautiful moment, she decides, and it feels almost sacred to know that she is sharing it with someone else.
A wave of emotion sweeps over her, and before she realizes it, her mouth is open. "You know...Maru is fine, zura," she says haltingly.
You's silhouette turns, and although her expression is shadowed, Maru squirms uncomfortably under her questioning blue gaze. A silence settles, and Maru's throat runs dry. No one calls her Maru! Obviously You would feel uncomfortable. Sweat rolls down her neck. If only she hadn't gone and said something stupid like that...
Warm hands closes around her wrist and her head jerks up to see You, holding her hand in both of hers, a huge, silly beam spreading across her face. "Yeah? Maru, eh?" she murmurs huskily, mouth close to Maru's ear. Her breath whistles across Maru's skin and hot lightning sizzles across her body as she fights to keep her knees from buckling. You's warmth is enveloping her in a warm cocoon that she's not sure she'll be able to escape from later on. Oh god. Oh, god, zura, keep calm. Oh my god.
The older girl pulls away and Maru can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment, the thrill of an illegitimate contact still buzzing in her ears. "Okay, Maru," You laughs. She scans Maru with an unreadable glint in her eyes, then quietly, just loud enough for Maru to hear, says,"I'm kinda happy we got to know each other better today."
Maru's cheeks flame. So she was feeling the same way! A tiny smile makes its way onto her lips. There is a warm glow in her chest that she is not ready to let go of just yet.
Tugging her along, You turns and starts skipping along the gravel. "What do we say we go get ramen, huh?"
Maru grins, and as they begin to walk together, she secretly hopes that You won't notice that their hands are still intertwined.
"Sounds good, zura!"