Oriental Magic
Author's Note: Enjoy the story and R&R.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or of the Rockman EXE series.
Pairing: Established Netto x Tohru.
Summary:
Hikawa Tohru comes home bearing macarons. Hikari Netto plays a game to determine which flavour best matches his boyfriend.
The way to a man's heart is through his stomach.
Hikawa Tohru tossed the worn maxim around, ruminating its significance. Though seeded with a grain of truth, it was an easily refutable statement. Not every man could be bought with food. Fewer in this day and age even stopped to have breakfast. Nonetheless, he'd defend his belief in it if challenged. Anyone who disputed the saying hadn't met Hikari Netto.
The twelve-year-old was a ravenous, grub-gorging machine. A kid-sized vessel with the capacity of an army, you could stuff a five-star feast down the preteen's craw, and he would undoubtedly be back for more servings during the same sitting. His diet comprised everything imaginable, courtesy of his adoring mom, who indulged his blue whale of an appetite with good humour. Rockman had his work cut out for him, constantly supervising his operator's inhuman eating habits.
Netto's instinct when Tohru landed in the terminal was, of course, to question his boyfriend about all the mouth-watering delights he partook of while on vacation in Choina with his father.
"Otosan and I ate baozi Monday night. They were very delicious!"
"Baozi?"
"They're Choina's equivalent to Japan's nikuman. Steamed pork buns, Netto-kun."
"Oh, those. Jasmine and Cardamom-san cooked them for me and Dekao when we went to obtain medicine for Danpa, the panda. Yeah, they're amazing!"
Seiji, Tohru's grizzled dad, hit the brakes. The boys lurched forward in their seats, before recoiling on their safety belts. Tailing a winding stream of vehicles, the car screeched to a halt. A traffic accident involving a van and a semi had congested the highway, blocking the lanes.
"Tohru, it seems we're going to be here for a bit," the elder Hikawa sighed. "Why don't you give Netto-kun the souvenir you bought for him?"
A blush crept up on Tohru. Overparenting was one thing. Helping him woo his guy was outright off limits.
Netto crouched in, overjoyed. "For real? Whatchya get me? Whatchya get me?"
Unzipping his carry-on luggage, Tohru extracted a plastic bag whose load included a polo shirt, Capsule Station trinkets, no-brand miscellanea, and oddly, a rubber duck. Rummaging around the recent acquisitions, he procured a rectangular, green pastel box ornamented with silver frieze, entrusting it to the ecstatic brunette beside him.
Since the rest of the text was indecipherable to him, Netto squinted to read the stylized katakana. Whoever designed the packaging at least had the sense to label the product in multiple languages. "Macarons? They don't sound Choinese."
"That's because they're not. They're a foreign import, a luxury item sold in trendy high-end stores in Choina. I purchased them from a shopping mall we visited, Harbour Jade. Each macaron is sort of like two cookies smushed together with filling in between. A combination of meringue, sugar, egg white, and almonds. They come in an assortment of colours and flavours. Supposedly, they melt on your tongue. I haven't tried any myself."
"Tohru-kun."
"Hmm?"
"You're rattling on again." Netto smirked.
"Heh, I am, aren't I? But see, there's even a pamphlet listing the different flavours. I got you thirty in total from the Prestige Collection."
"Weren't these expensive, though?"
"I saved some otoshidama from New Years plus this month's allowance."
Netto unfastened the white bow and ribbon. Admittedly, he loved being pampered like this. He was just a trifle concerned his cuddle bear was abandoning frugality and spending too much on him. Extra cuddles were in order.
"Tohru-kun, there are twenty-six here." He pointed to four empty slots in the crêpe paper-lined container.
"W-wha –?" He put his hands on his hips. "Otosan! Did you sneak a few when I fell asleep on the plane?"
Seiji chuckled nervously. "Sorry, son. I'm certain Netto-kun doesn't mind. He couldn't possibly finish all those at once."
Wholly aware his boyfriend wouldn't take the misevaluation lying down, he shushed his naïve father, "Don't give him ideas, Otosan!"
Netto pretended not to hear. "Twenty-six, huh? Tohru-kun, I wonder which one of these is you."
"M-me?"
"Yes, you! I have twenty-six chances to find the macaron that best suits you. We can make a game out of it! Wanna play? We have plenty of time!"
As if to emphasize the fact, the road erupted in honking.
"You have thirty chances." Tohru flipped open the insert, cross-referencing the box's contents. "The four missing flavours are Datte Figue, or Date Fig; Guimauve Fraise Bonbon, or Strawberry Candy Marshmallow; Guimauve Armande, or Almond Marshmallow; and Toffee."
Netto studied the stock photos. "Without tasting these, based on appearance, Date Fig is Hinoken. Toffee and Strawberry Candy Marshmallow are Papa and Mama. Almond Marshmallow is Meijin-san."
"If you decided that quickly, it should be no problem finding me among the remaining twenty-six."
The absent quartet accounted for, the connoisseur moved on to the box proper. "I'll try this one first." He selected a mauve disk with inky padding.
"That would be Cassis Violette, Blackcurrant Violet."
"What's this ruffled loop around the middle?"
"That's what's called the 'foot' or 'crown,' according to the blurb."
"Ew! I'll stick to 'crown,' thank you!"
Tohru laughed.
"Time to eat!" The Net Saviour popped the treat into his mouth. The double-decker pastry crumbled, wetting his palate. As Tohru described, it melted on his tongue, tart and lightly tingling. "Mmm! It's jam! Super!"
"So, does it remind you of me?"
"No. It's Miyuki-san. You peel back these layers, and the macaron goes from purple to black, like it's becoming more mysterious. The more you know about her, the less you're sure of."
Drat.
"Okay, next is Marrons, or Chestnuts." Tohru fed him the second, beige on ivory.
"Soft and chewy. Almost like a yam. A faint smoky aftertaste," he opined, morsel in his cheek like a squirrel hoarding for winter. "Definitely Dingo. He has a tough exterior, but is sweet on the inside."
Despite another disappointing outcome, Tohru thought Netto made a cute, pensive food critic.
"Cho-co-lat. Ooh, Chocolate!"
That had to be him, right?
No stranger to chocolate's smoothness, Netto savoured the ganache. "Barrel-san. No matter where or when he shows up, you can depend on him being awesome!"
"Muguet, or Lily of the Valley." Tohru was more optimistic towards this variant. It was green, his preferred colour, a tidbit his dunderhead was wise to.
However, before Netto could ingest it, he shunted. The aroma was overpowering.
Guess not, the younger conceded. "Saloma-san, I gather? It is named after a flower we've never heard of."
Swallowing it whilst beating his chest, he agreed. It wasn't bad. Just really, really strong. Needing to expunge its fragrance, he plucked a pink-as-punch niblet. "Fruits Rouges?"
"Red Fruits," Tohru translated.
The gourmand detected strawberries, raspberries, cherries, and a subtle dash of vanilla. "It's Madoi-san. Same as her, a lot going on."
His introvert counterpart passed him a speckled papyrus-brown Praliné, or Praline.
A nutty, candy quality. This was also one of the most fattening, Tohru revealed, so Netto settled on it representing Dekao.
"You're up, Fleur d'Oranger!" He plopped it down.
"Orange Blossom…Tesla, ne?" Rockman cut in from Netto's PET.
His operator concurred. The moniker was something of a misnomer, considering the snack was actually an envy-green trim encircling a peachy crust. Gauss Council's president shared a similar fixation disingenuously burying her age underneath rank, glamour, and wealth.
"Cédrat, or Citron."
Artichoke green. Thick-skinned. Felt like Laika, all right.
"Caramel à la Fleur de Sel. Caramel with Salted Butter."
Self-explanatory. "Sweet and salty. That's Rush, in a nutshell."
"Framboise, or Raspberry."
An enticingly romantic coral and scarlet. "Charlie."
"Citron, or Lemon."
Puckeringly charged. "Count Elec."
Eleven flavours in, and Tohru was beginning to lose hope.
The subsequent two – Chocolat Griotte, or Chocolate with Cherry, and Chocolat Passion, or Chocolate with Passion Fruits – Netto consumed consecutively. They were sprinkled with drops of cocoa, and resembled a strawberry and gummy cheeseburger, respectively.
On the former, Netto experienced an explosion to his taste buds worthy of a firework constructed by Nenji-san. On the latter, a tropical mixture combining pineapple and papaya; to fit that much juicy goodness into such a small package, he could only recall Chisao.
The car engine revved back to life. The mishap on the highway had been cleaned up, and motorists were impatiently jackknifing to free themselves from the fracas. Seiji shifted out of park to rejoin the cavalcade.
Noting the change to their transit status, Netto chucked and gobbled an additional six macarons in succession midair.
Epices et Fruits Moelleux, or Spices and Soft Fruits? A deep shade of plum with unplaceable elements. "Dark Miyabi."
Pistache, or Pistachio? Pale green with buttercream confit, and myriad textures as eclectic as a Battle Chip collection. "Higure-san."
Café, or Coffee? Who couldn't go without it? "Enzan."
Bergmamote, or Bergamot? A loud yellow with fancy title and somewhat sour. "Yaito-chan."
Myrtille, or Blueberry? A beautiful shell, solid base, and robust composition. "Mariko-sensei."
Vanille, or Vanilla? "Pride."
Tohru handed him a bottle of herbal tea. "Hydrate."
At the other's cautionary plea, Netto paused for a drink, then harvested a dainty piece on the preceding dessert's roll: Pétale de Rose a.k.a. Rose Petal.
"Rich and fluffy. What you get when you Giga Cannon strawberries into green apples! Meiru-chan, I'd wager."
"Here is Menthe. Mint."
He declined. He was used to mint in its white and green instantiations, not toothpaste teal. It was emanating unlucky vibes. If he ate it, would he turn to stone? It looked like a cross between a bar of soap and Aquaman, so there was no contestation who it symbolized.
Tohru could tell what Netto was thinking because he was thinking the same.
"Shuuko-san," they both said.
A scant five flavours left. Tohru braced himself. What if none of them were him?
Réglisse. Liquorice. Black with white chocolate and honey. "Yuriko."
Noix de Coco. Coconut. Salmon in complexion. "Masa-san."
Chocolat Amer. Bitter Chocolate. Covered in flecks like curry spices. "Mahajarama."
"Mangue Jasmin. Mango with Jasmine…" Tohru held his breath. Netto's favourite fruit was mango. Wasn't he Netto's favourite?
"Obviously Jasmine." A no-brainer for him, due to the girl's namesake plant.
Deflated, Tohru lowered his head. This was the end. He was unable to bring himself to gaze upon Netto, thumbing the final macaron, Chocolat Citron Vert. Chocolate with Lime.
"Tohru-kun."
"What, Netto-kun?"
"Relax! I saved the best for last! This one's you! I knew from the moment I saw it!"
WHAT!
The schoolboy gaped, ashamed he hadn't seen this coming sooner. Netto was toying with him the entire time! The prescient smile his dad cracked in the rear-view mirror caused his embarrassment index to jump fifty points.
"H-how?"
Netto found it endearing that Tohru hadn't gone full tomato. He scooped up some icing from the confection's creamy interior, dabbing it on his baby's nose. "The same way I knew I liked you, from the moment I saw you."
He halved the aquamarine bonbon and ferried a portion between Tohru's lips, before munching down the closing dollop. Lush consistency, a refreshing citrus zest, and chocolate mousse filling to die for. "Yurg rly urg thr bst!"
Tohru giggled, wrestling him across the seat. He was peeved at being misled, but was falling in love with him all over again. "Eat or talk, pick one, Netto-kun!"
Seiji allowed himself a mental victory lap as they escaped the vehicular hubbub onto the main thoroughfare. Contrary to his son's oppositions to his paternal meddling, he anticipated a great deal many more such episodes in the budding couple's future. Tohru still had a long way to go, yet he was confident his son would be Netto's forever after. They just had to take it, one mouthful at a time.