Introduction: This is collection of 5 one-shot shorts contributed by emochinchilla. O tanoshiimi desu!
Story 1/Untitled
"Mmm, this is delicious!" Sheryl cried, as she dug into Alto's homemade dinner. "You really are a princess, you cheeky little hime, you. You can even cook! You'd make a wonderful wife someday!" She teased with a wry grin.
As the two continued to eat in the embrace of candlelight, Sheryl couldn't help but think back to those cold winter nights where she would stand, shivering, watching people eat with their loved ones under similar circumstances.
"This is what I've really wanted for so long...to eat a meal with someone I loved..." She said to herself, under her breath.
Naturally, the dense hime perked up instantly like a dog greeting its master after a day of work. "Eh? Did you say something, Sheryl?" Aforementioned hime asked.
"No, no, I was just talking to myself. Come on, cheeky housewife Alto, let's finish our meal." She said, waving away the question with a wave of her hand.
As she speared a fishball with her chopsticks, she tenderly put it in her mouth, nibbling thoughtfully. Sheryl then looked down at the table adorned with the huge amounts of food her blue-haired hime prepared. She was then back in the alleyways, searching through dumpsters for scraps as she could see couples dine in fancy restaurants and bistros through the windows.
Thinking about the effort and time Alto put into preparing this feast was more than Sheryl could take, especially when juxtaposed with the memories of her rough childhood in the slums of Galaxy. She set down the fishball and started to weep, failing to hold back her tears. Alto heard the sound of sniffling and perked up again, to be greeted with the sight of Sheryl looking down at her lap, her pink tresses covering her face.
"Sheryl?" He asked, concern on his face.
"Y-yes?" She replied, voice quivering and shaky.
"Sheryl!" Alto got out of his seat and was on his knees, next to Sheryl's, in an instant. "What's wrong?" He asked tenderly, looking up into the singer's teary face. "Gah! I'm sorry! Is my cooking that bad? Is it too spicy?" He asked, panicking. The blue-haired hime looked so comical, with his eyes wide-open in concern and just barraging her with non-sensical questions that Sheryl couldn't help but giggle, in spite of herself.
"No, no, Alto, it's delicious, really." Sheryl replied, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her top. "It's delicious, it's just that you know how rough my childhood was. I was just thinking to myself that this is a childhood dream come true, being able to eat a meal with somebody I loved."
Alto took Sheyl's hand and gazed into her eyes, starting to become teary as well. Children were supposed to dream of becoming astronauts or doctors, or dream of grand marriages and parisian honeymoons, not something as simple as a candlelit meal with a loved one.
"Stop crying, lowly Alto." Sheryl cooed, wiping his eyes with her delicate fingers. "Sit your pretty princess butt back down and finish your meal. Maybe I'll let you carry me to bed like a prince instead, after." She said, with a wink.
And so, the pilot and the singer returned to their meal under the candle's dim light, occasionally looking up from their food to gaze lovingly into each other's eyes. They didn't say a word for the remainder of the time they ate. The look in the other's eyes said it all.