Oh My God, The Saltwater Momentum (or, Emotion Exchange) || 1600 words || rated: G.
Quickly written connected scenes, inspired by three random songs on my iPod. Ichigo/Kashino.
Momentum - The Hush Sound. (Should I show you me? All we need is a little bit of momentum.)
Ichigo scooped the last of the fried dough rolls from the pot and cut off the stove, letting the remaining oil simmer into silence. Butter-scented steam rose from the rolls, which she'd set on a napkin to dry. Bowls of bright powdered sugar waited patiently on the side while Ichigo scrubbed her hands clean and let out an exhausted sigh.
A small blonde head popped out from behind a bowl of vanilla pudding. "Ichigo?"
"Can't talk now, Vanilla. I have to test these rolls!"
Ichigo had spent the entire morning in the middle school's kitchen, stirring batter and measuring oil, mixing food dye into the sugar. She couldn't explain what had brought her here. She wanted to believe it was because of her dream, the dream that had woken her at 2 AM and left her unable to reclaim sleep.
Ichigo dipped the rolls in sugar, fully coating each of them.
Chocolat and Kashino had been there, in the dream. Kashino had said something about "showing." Something about "telling." Something about "Leave it to Amano to set a bar of chocolate on fire."
Distracted, Ichigo made small slits in the dough, wedging the knife into the center. She poured the warm pudding into a pastry bag and squeezed it into the slits. "Finished!" she announced, once the last roll had been stuffed. "Now, time to test one."
Vanilla conjured up her spoon. "Test?" she said. "What kind of test?"
Ichigo picked up a roll, inhaling the smell of dough. "You know how you make sweets from the bottom of your heart, right? And how - no matter how much sugar or flavoring you add - your true emotions always seep through?"
"Oui," Vanilla said, nodding. The best sweets were flavored with good feelings.
"Well, I'm not sure what I've been feeling lately. But I must be feeling something, so maybe my sweets will tell me what it is!"
Vanilla flapped her small wings excitedly. "So these rolls are like mood rings!"
"Exactly," Ichigo said, offering Vanilla a bite.
The pudding rushed first onto their tongues, creamy and thickly flavored. The dough softened and broke through, and the sugar melted around it. Each distinct flavor in the roll separated and came together again in their mouths.
Vanilla cheered. "I think these rolls should get an A+ on the test!"
Laughing, Ichigo took another roll and bit in, observing the senses over the sweetness this time.
She felt the rush again, the strong and warm feeling. Then that familiar melting, that falling out sensation, before the tastes merged again in the end.
"Oh," she said, and swallowed. "I wonder what this feeling is called."
Oh My God - Ida Maria. (Find a cure for my life. Oh my God. Oh, you think I'm in control.)
Almost in a trance, Kashino stirred a bag of semisweet chocolate chips into a bubbling blend of milk and marshmallows, sugar and butter and salt. He had to stop doing this, making sweets at random. Most times, he had no motive for it. Just a strange urge, a compulsion.
But there was a reason he'd dug out the heart-shaped cookie cutter this time, and that reason was also wide awake on a Saturday morning, working in the middle school's kitchen while he claimed the high school's. He'd seen her heading in that direction around dusk and hadn't yet seen her return. It had been this way for a few nights now, him staying up late enough to catch her rising early.
Kashino quickly poured the fudge into a greased pan. He smoothed it out and scored it, leaving it to cool.
He promptly collapsed to the floor.
"Kashino!"
Chocolat flew out from the still-open milk carton, flitting around Kashino's face, slapping him across the nose.
He opened his eyes and lay unblinking for many minutes. It wasn't fun, feeling like this. Like each individual part of his body was controlling itself without him.
Especially that one pesky muscle beating away in his chest.
"Chocolat," he mumbled against the floor tiles. "If I ever get like this over any other girl, please yell at me. Insult me. Throw things at me. Stop me."
Chocolat rolled her eyes, poking his cheek with her fork. "I can't cure love, you know."
"That word. That 'L' word. I don't like it."
"Too bad." Chocolat grinned. "Looks like it's a word you'll be getting used to."
The Saltwater Room - Owl City. (Do you wish we'd fall in love? All the time.)
They met at the train station.
This was not a coincidence.
Vanilla and Chocolat had agreed beforehand to come up with excuses to lure their partners out of their respective kitchens. An hour of crumb-sweeping and counter-scrubbing later, Ichigo and Kashino stood facing each other on the platform, tight-rolled paper bags clutched in their hands.
Vanilla and Chocolat disappeared conveniently into the cold autumn air.
Several trains rolled through their silence. Ichigo gripped her bag tighter, tugging on one of the curls in her hair with her free hand.
She said, "Hi."
He said, "I have something to show you."
"Oh?" She smiled. "Me, too."
They exchanged bags, taking a seat on the platform bench.
Kashino pulled out one of her fried dough rolls, coated in deep pink sugar, still-warm pudding pushing out of the side. She'd sprinkled some rose petals into the bag as an afterthought. The faint floral aroma wafted out after the roll, almost convincing him that it was still springtime.
Ichigo pulled a dark fudge heart out of the bag he'd handed her, sugared raspberries pressed in along the edges. The entire thing was smooth and rounded, not a lump in sight.
"On the count of three, we eat," Kashino said. "One. Two. Three."
They each took a bite.
The chocolate was rich, luscious straight through. The flavor swelled and filled Ichigo's mouth, even her lungs. The raspberries were sweet and small, attempting to balance out flavors, but the dominant taste was deep chocolate. "Delicious," Ichigo said, finishing the heart.
Kashino chewed the fried dough thoughtfully. He felt that same rush and crumble and reunion Ichigo had felt when she "tested" the rolls, that same warmth on his tongue. "The dough is a bit inconsistent," he said, "and the sugaring is uneven."
Ichigo frowned and looked sadly at her hands.
"But," Kashino said, finishing the roll, "it's amazing. The texture, the feeling. It's perfect."
Inside, Ichigo exploded into a shower of confetti and balloons and success. Quietly, she said, "Thank you."
"Amano."
She looked up. He was watching her in a strange way.
For a long time, he didn't say anything, and she didn't ask him to. They sat with their empty bags rolled up in their laps, the wind lifting their hair slightly away from their shoulders. Time seemed like an infinite resource, something that would never run out.
"Amano. I'll have to tell you something someday," Kashino said. "Not today. But, soon."
"Right." Ichigo nodded. "Well. I'll be here. I'll be ready to listen."
