QUICK NOTE! 1. dont take this seriously. please. 2. theres going to be lgbt characters everywhere in this. fran is trans and bi/pan. fuuta is non-binary and pan. their friends and family are (pretty much) all part of the community. ill use they/them for fuuta in descriptions and he/him and she/her in dialogue. there will be other characters who ill do something similar with, and ill address it in the chap they come in.
Fran doesn't buy bread.
His grandfather (may they meet in the next life) was a chef that especially loved to bake. He taught Fran everything he knew and Fran, naturally talented in most fields and partial to anything that let him have something in common with his grandpa, took to cooking and baking like a fish to water. There's no need for Fran to buy something he can easily make himself.
But when Fran sees a stunning brunette - tall and leggy, just his type - browsing the shelves in the bread section the only thing he can think of doing to get close to them is walk up and pretend he's trying to decide between two near identical loaves of ciabatta bread. As Fran's eyes flicker back and forth between the two loaves, he sneaks glances at them out the corner of his eye, wondering whether this is creepy or not.
Their hair (soft, sandy brown, and a little messy) is held away from their face by a pink headband tied in a 1950s style bow. They're wearing shortalls colored in the same soft shade of pink and a cozy, cream colored shirt. A tartan shopping bag hangs on the arm farthest from him, filled to the point of bulging with mystery groceries.
They're tall, maybe a couple centimeter taller than Fran, even in flats. Their eyes are bright and starry as they look into the pastry display case built into the wall, obviously finding it difficult to choose between so many delicious choices. They ooze a nicey-nice aura that Fran (going by the opposites attract rule) is really into.
All of Fran's two brain cells have an emergency meeting trying to figure out a way to get their attention and leave a positive impression, his near endless wit typically used to steer people away from him.
"Should I make a joke about bread?" he asks himself, still pretending to inspect the ciabatta breads. "Do I even know any bread jokes? 'If you're looking for Mr Rye-t, he's right here.'? That's terrible; I want to punch myself in the fucking face. 'Those are some tasty buns you got there.'? No... She'll slap me and I'll deserve it."
Just as Fran's about to fry his brain by letting the cogs in his brain spin so fast, God gives him a way in.
The stunning brunette farts.
The aisle is empty enough, and the sound is loud enough for Fran to know for sure it was them. He whips his head in their direction, blinking.
They make a desperate attempt at acting casual, trying to keep browsing the pastries, but Fran can see the way their ears are burning.
"Was that you?" Fran asks, jumping at the chance of communication, not realizing this was probably the worst conversation starter in history.
"What?" the beauty ask as little too quickly, glancing in Fran's direction but deliberately missing eye contact. Their lashes flutter as they start to look around, as if trying to find someone else to blame this on. Their ears turn a darker shade of red each second, their cheeks following suit. "No! ...That wasn't me!"
They start babbling about how it wasn't them and how it must have been one of their shoes squeaking against the linoleum and 'I think I heard bread sometimes makes that noise?'.
All the while, Fran is beginning to smell their little slip up.
It's not the worst he's ever smelled (he lives in a boarding house with three of the most disgusting men on the planet, after all), but it's there and he'd rather it not be. So he starts fanning the area with the ciabatta breads that were still in his hands.
The beauty lets out a horrified little huff. Their face is completely red as they turn, knocking one of the loaves out of Fran's hand with their tartan tote.
As they rush off towards the front of the store, Fran catches a glimpse of the design on their bag.
'NU' is printed in big, navy blue lettering, sitting in a circle made of leafy vines.
His school's crest. They must be a student there too.
Keeping that in mind, Fran bends down to pick up the loaf he dropped, staring off in the direction that mystery beauty took off in.
He's definitely fast enough to catch up with them, but even he knows well enough that a strange man chasing after them would scare them shitless.
Putting the loaves of bread back on the shelf, he picks up his basket and treks over to the dairy section to fetch his weekly pound of cheese, wondering if his school's web page still had a missed connections section.
That night, Nami U's missed connections page grows one post bigger with an ad titled 'To Fart Fairy, From Ciabatta Boy'.
well thats it for chapter 1. the start of this story is based on that ridiculous missed connections post about a guy wanting to meet up with a girl who farted at city market or smth. ill share the link if any of you are interested. review if you liked this, if it made you laugh, or if you want to give me some tips, im open to everything