Caution. Contents may have shifted during editing.
Chapter 42
"Mako-chan, I cannot believe you're up cooking. You really ought to be in bed still."
Makoto smiled patiently at Nasuti as the woman wrung her hands anxiously. She reminded herself that she thought she might get some resistance, and while she appreciated everyone wanting to look out for her wellbeing, a week in bed was about her limit.
"Nah. I was gonna start growing fungus if I lounged around one more day. Besides, I've got energy to burn," she reassured the woman. It wasn't a lie. Makoto had never been the sort of person that could just lie in bed all day. She couldn't keep still.
"Mmm. Mako-chan could never keep still," Ami agreed absently from her place at the kitchen table. She was working furiously on the Mercury computer, trying to get the starseed work going with Nasuti's help, but the woman had jumped up when Makoto had made her way into the kitchen.
She flicked her fingers, gesturing at Ami. "Besides, what you're doing over there is way more important. Don't let me interrupt you," she said gravely. It was going to take a lot of combined effort to figure out how to birth starseeds in a dimension where they technically didn't belong, without a Galactic Cauldron. Makoto hadn't given the problem much thought because just trying to untangle it gave her head pains.
She bent carefully, opening the fridge to see what might be inside as she watched Nasuti dither indecisively in her peripheral vision. "Seriously, I can handle dinner," she pushed, pulling out some pork, careful to move in a way that didn't aggravate anything. In a fit of anxious energy, Nasuti began pulling out several different bunches of veggies and cookware, laying them all out on the counter in a neat and organized way that suggested the woman had way too much anxiety brewing underneath.
Makoto understood. Sort of.
"I can help," the woman said stubbornly. Makoto tried not to twitch. Yeah. She generally preferred to work alone in the kitchen…
Ami spared her.
"Oh! Nasuti, Mako-chan is a chef, didn't I tell you?" she asked, looking up at them both. Makoto tried not to wince at the exhaustion carved into her face. Nasuti turned, delight and curiosity racing across her expression, anxiety forgotten.
"Oh! My goodness, a professional chef!" Nasuti flushed, putting her hands on her cheeks. "That's so interesting Mako-chan!" Makoto smiled blandly at her, a bit uncomfortable with the sudden enthusiasm.
"Tell you what?" she compromised. "I promise to ask for help if I need it.," Makoto paused, thinking. "Actually, can you get the rice going for me?"
Nasuti beamed at her and moved to get the cooker and ingredients. Makoto gratefully turned to prep for curry. This was Mina-chan's favorite dish, and she wanted it to come out perfectly. The blonde was barely eating enough to keep her toes alive right now, and Makoto was determined to change that in the one way she knew how.
Besides, as long as she didn't do a ton of bending and lifting, she'd be fine. And lying around gave her way too much time to think, and Makoto…wasn't a big fan of thinking about much right now. Aside from gratitude that she was alive, that the Senshi were alive, that Usagi was alive, and the…er…intense attention Touma had been lavishing her with, her life was kind of a mess.
Cooking for Nasuti, the Senshi, and the Troopers was one thing she could do to give back to everyone else. It was something she could do to help take care of and support their group. She needed to feel like she was contributing. Like she was useful.
Makoto cut vegetables and meat quickly and efficiently, her mind occupied even as she worked. She sauteed, she stirred, she seasoned. But the tasks were so familiar to her that she found when she'd finished she hadn't had much of a reprieve.
She put the lid on the curry pot and wrung her own hands, anxiety eating at her as thoughts of their current circumstances began trickling through her brain regardless of her attempts to stop it. Not knowing what else to do with herself, Makoto absently began poking through Nasuti's cabinets, pulling out the ingredients she'd need to make a cake, and finding something she could use for mixing.
She began carefully measuring ingredients into their separate bowls when a perfectly greased cake pan appeared at her elbow, and Makoto turned to find Nasuti staring at her with a combination of compassion and exasperation in her eyes. The woman put a gentle hand on her arm.
"I understand, Makoto.
"Just like I understand why Ami is sitting at this table doing research instead of resting and rebuilding her energy. Just like I understand why Usagi still sleeps all the time, why Rei spends so much time outside in front of that bonfire, and why Minako is so quiet and has no appetite.
"I understand.
"No one is expecting you to be ready. Not a single one of us expects you to be perfect or over it or even functional. This will happen slowly. The past is full of grief and the future is much too unclear. So live in each moment," she murmured, holding Makoto's gaze. Makoto felt her eyes brim but she swallowed it back, nodding, unable to speak.
"Now," Nasuti continued, her tone doing a one eighty as she gushed, "Will you please show me how to bake a cake like a professional?"
Makoto grinned at her then, and turned, placing a bowl between them.
"I can do that," she smiled.
Ami went back to her research. It felt like something in the air had shifted, but Makoto couldn't tell what. The energy radiating off of Mercury was less urgent. And as Makoto pointed out special tips and tricks to make cake baking in a home kitchen a breeze to Nasuti, she felt herself relax a bit too.
It helped, hearing out loud, that no one expected them to be ok right now. It seemed silly, but it helped.
Makoto got lost in the rhythm of baking. Nasuti was an excellent student and caught on quickly, which helped Makoto feel as if she'd done something good – given back, maybe just a little. Once the cake was in the oven, Nasuti resumed research with Ami, and Makoto fussed with the curry pot. When she couldn't justify giving that any more attention, she pulled out ingredients for a quick salad.
And for awhile, things felt…normal. They weren't. Not by any stretch of the imagination, but they at least felt that way. It felt very domestic. As if she'd already done this for years and could simply continue to do it for more.
She lost track of time as she worked, eventually pulling the pans out of the oven and prepping the cake for decorating as she kept an eye on the simmering curry. She was in the middle of adding the flower designs when a pair of hands rested on her shoulders and began gently massaging. Half of her mouth quirked up in a smile even as she made sure to keep her focus. One wrong move and she could wreck this cake.
Touma leaned into her personal space, craning his neck over her shoulder to look at what she was working on. Concentration became shaky at best. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and lean back against him. He smelled so good, like the crisp night air of winter just before snow.
"Hmm. What have you got there?" His low voice vibrated in the small space between her back and his front, ruffling the hair on the side of her head with the tiniest rush of warmth. She had no idea if Touma was just…an affectionate guy with everyone, but she kind of hoped not. Color flooded into her cheeks and she hoped he didn't notice her heart beating a little faster.
"Just some cake. It's been a while since I've made cake and I thought it might be nice to have after dinner," she said, trying not to wince at the breathlessness in her voice. His head turned then, his cheek landing against her temple as he took in what was on the stove.
"Did you…cook dinner?" he asked. His voice sounded a bit odd. Makoto frowned, her body's reactions to Touma forgotten.
"I did," she replied cheerfully, keeping her tone light.
"Mako-chan," he said in that same strange tone. "You didn't have to do that. Shouldn't you be resting?" He'd moved closer to her, hands still on her shoulders, so that their position felt an awful lot like an embrace.
"I'm ok. I just couldn't lay around in bed all day anymore. Much longer and I was gonna fuse to the mattress!" she quipped, trying very hard to carry on with decorating and ignore how…intimate their position was right now.
It had been hard enough since their talk back in the Underworld to keep her emotions in check. He hadn't exactly told her he shared her feelings, and it was important to Makoto that she respect the boundaries between them.
But Touma had been very…touchy feely since they'd all reconnected and it was getting harder and harder not to get…ideas.
She was trying. None of this felt like he was being a creep. He just…seemed to need to have physical contact with some part of her quite often. Usually, he liked to stand very close with his hands on her shoulders. Sometimes it was a gentle touch on her arm. Occasionally, if she'd had a nightmare or a bad moment, he gave her a full on, prolonged embrace.
And it wasn't just the physical. It was the way he looked at her. The way he talked to her. The tone that sometimes seeped into his voice. It was so…affectionate. It made her heart pound and her skin flush.
But in an effort to not make things awkward between them, Makoto kept telling herself that he was simply trying to give comfort.
Nothing more to it than that.
She knew she had a romantic heart and she tended to lead with the flowery side of her personality. But this wasn't her normal life anymore. Touma wasn't some cute guy she'd met at a café or in the park. He'd saved her life. They'd battled monsters together in the Underworld.
And Makoto just couldn't allow herself to gush over him like silly fangirl.
There was a gravity to their relationship that made her cautious, and Makoto knew that if she led with her heart and it ended up rejected, she might not recover so well this time. And that would wreck anything between them. Having Touma this way was a million times better than not having him at all, and if that meant she had to keep working to get her reactions under control, that was fine.
Eventually, she'd calm down.
She hoped.
"…Mako-chan?"
Makoto twitched beneath his hands, coming out of her thoughts. Feeling embarrassed, she cleared her throat and focused back on the cake. "Uhh sorry. I was concentrating on the flower here. What did you say?" she muttered guiltily.
In an effort to be present, she rotated the plate the cake sat on, looking for spots that needed decoration or a touch up.
"I was wondering where you learned to decorate like that. That looks professional," he replied. The weird tone had gone from his voice thankfully, and Makoto forced herself to just relax and take the moment at face value.
"Oh, that. I'm a pastry chef. Went to school and everything," she said brightly. She frowned almost immediately. "Was…I was a pastry chef," she added.
"Wow. That's…really cool. So you worked at a cake shop?" he asked. He sounded very excited by the idea of her working in a cake shop, and Makoto huffed air in a brief laugh.
"Yeah. Well, I did a lot of different things actually, but working the cake shop was my favorite. Had to pay the bills though, so I pulled shifts as a chef at a family restaurant. Bartended too sometimes when I wanted extra cash," she replied, furrowing her brow and trying not to feel ashamed of the myriad of jobs she'd cobbled into a makeshift career. Maybe it wasn't super sophisticated or glamourous, but she loved cooking.
Carefully, trying to brush the feeling aside, she began building a rose on an empty side of the cake. She knew she was being silly. It was just hard not to feel…a little lower class sometimes. She wasn't hopelessly smart like Ami, and she didn't have charisma like Minako or a family tradition to uphold like Rei. Maybe Usagi was in a similar boat, but she'd had a different set of future aspirations.
"You worked really hard," Touma said quietly. Makoto built up another layer of petals on the rose, pausing to shrug.
"Well. I wanted my own cake shop, but that's…a lot of money. I was trying to work towards it, but I think at the rate I was going I probably would have been able to open one when I retired," she chuckled. "I got to work in one at least, and the owner was this nice old man who pretty much let me do what I wanted."
She applied the finishing flourish on the rose, working in leaves and then an elegant, twirling vine that connected to the next flower on the cake. Touma went suddenly quiet behind her, and she frowned as she rotated the plate again.
"You're really talented. Your parents must have been proud," he murmured in a low voice, a strange hint of something in his tone. Longing? Makoto sighed, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again and doubling her focus on the cake.
Her parents had been dead for a long time, but talking about it never seemed to get easier. She aimed for a light tone she didn't really feel.
"Nah. My parents died when I was little. It's always just been me. But Minako and Usagi definitely didn't mind eating anything I brought over. Or…just begging for sweets. All the time," she said wryly, thinking about her friends to ease the loneliness that remembering her parents sometimes brought. She missed them terribly still, but the Senshi had filled a lot of the empty space in her heart.
"Hell. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just assum –" Makoto straightened, hearing the guilt in his tone, and turned to face him, cutting the apology short.
"Touma. It's fine. They died a long time ago," she told him, smiling reassuringly. "I've got the Senshi. I had my garden, and then I got to make cakes. It was a good life," she added quietly. He studied her face intently, almost as if he might be confused by her optimism.
Most people were confused by her optimism.
And thinking of optimism…she tried not to notice how close their faces were now. Touma had let go of her shoulders as she'd turned, but they were still standing incredibly close. He'd gone noticeably silent, brow furrowed as he studied her face, as If he were looking for something.
"How are you so resilient?" he murmured, cupping her cheek with one hand. "You've been through so much, but you still have this beautiful heart." He closed his eyes and leaned forward, touching their foreheads together. Makoto flushed to the roots of her hair.
This felt too romantic now. She'd thought she'd understood the boundaries between them, but there was no way to classify this as comfort.
A boy didn't tell a girl she had a beautiful heart while touching her face so reverently if all he wanted to do was give her a little comfort.
"T-Touma?" she whispered, her heart pounding.
"I'm sorry. I told myself I should give you space. Time. But it turns out I'm pretty crappy with my self-control," he breathed, lips curving up in a wry smile. He opened his eyes, and she was lost in the blue of his gaze.
Oh. She was in so much trouble.
But Makoto couldn't really make herself put a stop to what she knew was coming. The instincts she'd been trying to brush off were roaring back loud and clear now, and it actually hurt to realize that the affection he'd been giving her had been genuine.
It hurt because she should have been soaking it up, returning the sentiment, and instead she'd kept herself distant.
Still. She needed him to put his feelings into words. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a moment, the blue of his gaze too penetrating.
"What…what do you mean?" she whispered. Please, she thought please just tell me.
He didn't say anything, but he reached up with his other hand, tilting her gaze up. His eyes dropped to her lips, his own curving up again, before he leaned down and took her mouth with his own.
Well. Talk about making a statement without words.
Makoto let her eyes flutter closed.
He was warm, she thought. His kiss was sweet – like her favorite shaved ice at a summer festival. He didn't push or pry, but she could feel the deep affection riding his touch, and she reached up, tangling her hands in the material covering his shoulders.
He made a noise in his throat then, and his arms went around her, pulling her close. Makoto pushed up onto her tip toes, meeting him halfway, and he held her there, keeping their lips locked.
"Makoto! I heard that you were cook – ACK!" Shin's voice pierced the cocoon they'd surrounded themselves with, and they parted with a startled smack, turning their shocked faces in his direction. He was standing just inside the doorway, hands up, palms facing out, eyes huge in his face.
"S-Sorry!" he stammered, and they all stood awkwardly for a moment as they tried to figure out what to do next. Touma hadn't let her go – didn't seem inclined to let her go – and so Makoto was stuck standing in his arms. Shin…wasn't exactly hustling back out of the kitchen either.
He recovered first, wandering over. He patted Touma on the shoulder companionably, leaning over to peer at the pot on the stove. He reached out, lifting the lid, angling it up toward his face so he could get a good look at the contents.
"Curry. Nice," he said. He turned then, fixing the two of them with a grin. "I can see you've been busy. Guess I'll leave you to it," he quipped, turning away and tucking his hands in his pockets as he made his way out of the kitchen. "Almost everyone's here," he said in warning, waving at them over his shoulder.
Makoto put a hand to her face, trying to cover the red she could feel flushing her skin. Touma chuckled. "You're cute when you blush," he said, leaning down to kiss the cheek she hadn't covered. She turned, blinking up at him.
His face went from playful to serious.
"If this is too much for you, please tell me. I didn't want to overwhelm you. I know what we talked about in the Underworld but, you were tired. Things were…chaotic. I didn't want to push," he said, suddenly shy, his gaze moving off and to the side. "You're dealing with so much right now, and I didn't want to add to it. You need time to adjust."
He blew a breath out, tilting his head back and gazing up at the ceiling. "But I guess I just couldn't keep my feelings in check. This was really selfish of me. I'm sorry," he said. He looked back down at her finally, guilt and remorse heavy in his gaze. He moved to let her go, and Makoto lifted her arms, wrapping them around his neck, stopping him from fleeing.
He was going to turn her into a puddle of goo. She smiled for him.
"Touma. I don't want you to keep your feelings in check. Don't be sorry. I was doing the same thing." Uncomfortable with what she was about to tell him, it was her turn to avert her eyes. She focused on the bottom button of his polo. He'd worn it unbuttoned, she noticed now, and bit her lip. "The truth is that I…have been holding back my feelings too. I meant what I said in the Underworld. I do like you a lot. But I know that I can come on strong…I'm sort of used to having to hold myself back, and I didn't want to ruin our –"
Touma tipped her chin up. She had enough time to see the warmth and affection in his face before he leaned down and proceeded to kiss her socks off.
When he finally let her up for air, she blinked, dazed, at his face, wondering if this was really happening, or if she'd zoned out making the cake. Turning in his arms, she took it in where it sat on the counter. And gasped at the giant smear where her largest rose had been.
"The cake!" she yelled.
And that was when she noticed Usagi standing nearby with a guilty frosting face. Makoto sighed, putting the knuckle of her index finger to her forehead as she talked herself through the anger.
It was a good sign, she argued with herself, that Usagi felt well enough to be stealing frosting off a cake. She looked back at the cake again, at the big empty smear, and then back at Usagi, who was still licking the spoon she'd used.
"Well," she sighed, mostly to herself," At least you didn't use your fingers."
Usagi looked indignant then. "Of course not Mako-chan, what kind of savage to you take me for?! Sorry, it's just that dinner smelled so good, and I came in to see what you were cooking and offer you my services as a taste-tester, but you were…busy," and here Usagi looked way too happy about that fact, "so I figured I'd just do you a favor and try it out, y'know, because it's been forever since you cooked, and it's so delicious Mako-chan, like really amazing, and then I saw the cake on the counter, and I thought – hey, maybe I can taste that for her too – because you're so talented with the decorating so I thought you wouldn't miss just one flower –"
Makoto waved her hands desperately, trying to stem the rambling flow of thought. "It's fine!" she panted. "Just fine. I'll just…make another one. Don't worry about it."
Touma still had his arms around her, but he was staring at Usagi like he'd never seen her before. He leaned down towards Makoto. "Is…is this normal?" he asked. Makoto pinched the bridge of her nose, scrunching her eyes shut, and nodding.
"Yes," she said evenly. "This is normal." She opened her eyes, and refocused on Usagi, reluctantly pulling out of Touma's embrace. The pig-tailed girl hadn't made any cracks, but it wasn't really Usagi that Makoto was worried about.
It was that Usagi liked to talk.
To Minako.
And Minako was an entirely different sort of problem.
Just thinking about her recent bout of bliss with Touma making it to the Senshi of Venus' ears was already giving her a headache. Makoto went to the fridge, and rummaged around, coming out with a tray of onigiri.
"Here," she said, handing the tray to Usagi. "If you're hungry, have a snack."
Usagi's face lit up. "Yess! Mako-chan is the best!" she yelled, casting a sly glance in Touma's direction. "Right Touma?" she chirped, carrying the tray to the table. She plopped into a chair and began devouring the plate's contents at an almost alarming rate. Touma coughed awkwardly and turned an adorable shade of red, but didn't say anything. He was adorable, she decided, and patted him comfortingly on the shoulder, moving back toward the stove. She sighed, stirred the curry pot, and then picked up a spatula to even out her base coat of frosting.
Once it was smooth and tidy, she picked up her piping bag and began rebuilding the rose. Touma, she noticed, simply leaned on the counter next to her, observing as she worked. Occasionally, his stare would flick over to Usagi, studying her with curiosity.
"Seriously? This is normal?" he asked. Makoto nodded, working the leaves on the flower again, transitioning them back into the vine.
"Yes. You've only ever met Underworld Usagi. This? This is normal Usagi. What's going on over there is actually a good sign," she muttered, finishing the vine with a flourish. Touma's eyes went back to her work and then widened.
"Holy cow. That looks like she never touched it," he said, impressed. Makoto cleared her throat, uncomfortable with the praise over what she considered not her best work, and then rotated the plate with a little nod.
"Yup! That's Mako-chan. She's so talented!" Usagi gushed from the table between bites, giving Touma very obvious little looks that he seemed to be doing his best to ignore. Makoto couldn't help the smile that curved her lips. Usagi looked at everything with rose colored glasses, and while she could be a pain in the rear, Makoto never really could stay angry.
She rotated the plate again, adding a few small touches to her pattern.
"Is that cake!?" Shuu Li-Huang's voice boomed into the kitchen before he was actually visible, and everything somehow slipped into a comfortable air of normalcy with his arrival.
"It's sure is!" Usagi replied enthusiastically. "Mako-chan made it, it's so tasty!"
She sounded a bit like a kindergartner sometimes. At least it was cute. Makoto cast a discreet side eye in Shuu's direction then. There was something in Shuu's eyes as he looked at Usagi. Something the romantic side of her recognized, but in this case didn't really rejoice over. She focused back on the cake and tried not to make a face.
She sure hoped that wasn't what it looked like.
Not because she had anything against Shuu liking Usagi. But more because she liked Shuu and already knew that having those sorts of feelings for the Moon Princess probably wasn't going to end well for him.
Damn.
Makoto huffed out a breath and let the worry slide off her shoulders. Not something she needed to address right now. And actually?
Maybe if she stuck that little tidbit in Minako's face when Minako caught wind about Touma, that would occupy her time instead. Plus, Venus would probably have a better idea on how to actually help, if that was what was happening.
"Wow. Is that a cake?" Ryo Sanada said, entering the increasingly chaotic kitchen.
"Do you guys not believe in cake or something?" Makoto teased, straightening from her fussing. She looked over at Ryo, eyes widening when he came over to her and surrounded her in a quick hug.
"Hey Mako-chan! Nasuti says you cooked dinner? Should you be doing all this work?" he asked, brows furrowing in concern. It was nice, Makoto thought, to be surrounded by so many people who were so thoughtful and caring.
Things were bad. But they could have been so much worse.
She could be alone right now, with nothing.
But somehow she was still surrounded by people who cared about her. And that was more important to her than she'd realized. She waved at Ryo, trying to reassure him.
"It's fine. I couldn't lie around any longer. It's just curry, nothing fancy," she told him. Shuu raised his eyebrows at her.
"Uh, that cake looks plenty fancy to me. Usagi says you're some kind of pastry chef?" he asked, curiosity piqued. Makoto shrugged.
"Yeah. I used to work for a cake shop. This is no big deal," she said, trying to get herself out of the spotlight.
"Really?" he said with more interest than she expected, putting a hand to his chin thoughtfully. Touma and Ryo shot him a look that Makoto couldn't interpret, however, and he didn't say anything else.
Uncertain what had just transpired over her head, Makoto flashed Shuu a smile. "Well, nobody's tasted my cooking yet, so maybe hold your praise," she teased. Usagi, finished stuffing her face and rolled her eyes as she moved to carry her plate to the sink. Shuu beat her to it, gesturing at her to sit while he cleared it for her.
"Yeah, save it for later, because you're gonna need it once you chow down," Usagi crowed once she'd swallowed. Makoto buried her face in her hand. She knew Usagi was trying to help but…
She was really uncomfortable being the center of attention. "Guys, dinner's pretty much ready, so if somebody can maybe get everyone together? I'm not sure where Nasuti keeps the tablewear either.." she trailed off, hoping they'd all take the hint.
Usagi popped up immediately. "I'll rally the troops!" she said, saluting dramatically and bolting out the door. Shuu rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "I'll make sure she doesn't get lost," he said, following her out the door. Ryo grinned, heading for the doorway with one hand in his pocket.
"I'll go start the process of prying Ami and Nasuti out of the office," he volunteered.
"Good Luck!" Makoto called out.
He'd need it.
Beside her, Touma chuckled. "Nice job," he said, gesturing at the empty kitchen. Makoto bit her lip, feeling a little embarrassed that he'd seen through her.
"Dinner actually is ready," she tried to counter. He gave her another one of those heavy smiles, the affection in his eyes almost too much, and moved into her personal space. He slid an arm around her waist, cinching her against him.
"Oh, I don't mind Makoto Kino. It means I can do this," he said, leaning down to leave a quick peck at her lips. He released her, and walked to the cabinets across the kitchen, opening them to reveal a cache of plates and bowls that he began sorting and gathering.
Makoto put her fingers to her tingling lips as she turned back to get final preparations taken care of.
Touma Hashiba had moves. For a guy who'd come off as too smart to be bothered with something as silly as flirting, he'd cornered her neatly, and seemed to know exactly how to get her heart racing.
She'd been right before.
She was in so much trouble.
Hopefully, this was the good sort of trouble, and she wasn't going to end up crashing and burning in the long run.
