Mitsukuni's weekly cake nights are a celebration – of dessert, of course, though that is only a byproduct of basking in the giddy warmth of his newfound courage.
The courage of being true to himself; of wearing his heart's desires like elegant robes that deserve to be flaunted, instead of buried at the bottom of a dark closet to be forgotten and consumed by moths.
Or at least, that's what Mitsukuni thought the very first time he seated himself at the candle-lit table with Usa-chan's pliant form providing quiet encouragement at his side. Before cake night became planned and plural, and Chika's meddling interference an excuse to multiply it by three.
By now, it has become a routine as familiar – as irreversibly ingrained – as the Haninozuka techniques Mitsukuni once expended his blood, sweat, and soul to master.
Mitsukuni sits dwarfed before towering pastries of the finest quality, short legs dangling in midair to tap against empty space as he eyes the lavish spread with unconcealed anticipation.
His gaze borders on predatory, – would be more than enough to send Tamaki cowering in a corner – but that is alright. There is no one else here, after all – no one except Usa-chan, who has never cared for Mitsukuni's guileless charades.
He closes his eyes and breathes in deeply; lets the sugar-sweet aroma of chiffon cake and whipped vanilla frosting fill his lungs and seep into his veins.
The gentle glow of the flickering candlelight kisses Mitsukuni's lashes, casts muted shadows that fan across his soft cheeks. His wide eyes are dark pools of honey-almond when they flutter open, and his tiny tongue traces the contour of his plump lips. They glisten, moist.
Mitsukuni sighs – a quiet, wanton sound swallowed by the empty room. He spares a precious few seconds of self-control to admire the beautiful array of dessert that lies before him, – for him – sprawled across the pristine silk tablecloth.
It is an offering; a fleeting delicacy sacrificed in a futile ritual to please a starved soul whose hunger is impossible to satisfy.
For soon, Mitsukuni will feast. And, in the titillating haze of sweet extravagance, he will allow himself to forget that there is a difference between fondness and indulgence.