A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you've all been doing well, with a worldwide pandemic sweeping the world and all. Remember me? And this fic? If not, I totally get it. But if so, thanks for sticking around.
I know it's been another long wait, but I promise you that I won't leave it unfinished, even if it takes me another five years! (I really hope not, though.) I've drafted the rest of the chapters and I'd say we're looking at maybe 15 chapters total, give or take? Hopefully this one was worth the wait.
That's enough from me; I've kept you all waiting enough - let's get into it.
CHAPTER 6: IN WHICH DEFENSES ARE SLIGHTLY CRACKED
Chris piped the last of the macaron shells onto the baking sheet and let out a small sigh as she stared up at the clock. It was already 10 a.m., and there was still no sign of Kinnosuke.
It had been four years since she'd first walked through the threshold of Pandissimo's kitchens and caught a glimpse of that glorious man for the first time. It was definitely true that he didn't conform to society's standards for male beauty, but there was something about his rugged exterior and the gruffness in his tone that made Chris's heart flutter from day one. What attracted her to him the most, though, was his tireless dedication and perseverance. And it was due to that perseverance that he'd never taken a personal day.
So where in the world was he? And without advance notice, at that?
Setting the piping bag down, Chris headed toward the sink to wash her hands. He definitely would've called if something had come up. She dried her hands on her chef's coat and reached into her pocket for her phone. She scrolled through her contacts until her finger landed on the one she was searching for – Kin-chan.
She exhaled. She hadn't spoken to him since she'd told him off the other day, during lunch service. Was he mad about that? Is that why he hadn't called the kitchen?
Still, that was no excuse. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tapped "call." After a single ring, she heard him pick up.
"Hello?" Kinnosuke mumbled into the phone, his voice hoarse. "Chris?"
"Kin...nosuke?" Chris started slowly. "Um, where are you? We're halfway through prepping for lunch already."
She heard a crash, and then the rustling of fabric. "Oh shit." She heard a series of coughs, then heard him struggle to inhale.
"Yeah, no kidding. Where are you?"
Kinnosuke let out another heaving cough. "Um, I'll be there in five."
Chris narrowed her eyes. "Wait, are you sick?"
"N-no, no. I'll be fine. Just a seasonal thing, you know? I'll be okay."
Chris's voice hardened. "I'll see you in five, all right. But you are not to move from your bed." She hung up, and let out a sigh.
That absolute idiot! He sounded like he was on his deathbed, and yet he was insisting on coming into work?
Unbuttoning her chef's coat, she motioned to one of the line cooks. "Shuuhei, you live with Kinnosuke, right? How was he this morning?"
Shuuhei, a young short man with black locks and glasses, paled. "Well, um, he said that he was feeling fine and that he'd be right behind us. But, um, when we asked him if he was sure, he just threw stuff at us."
Chris sighed. Typical. "And why didn't you tell me this beforehand?"
Shuuhei looked away. "He specifically didn't want you to know."
That ass! Chris let out a sharp exhale. "This will not happen again in my kitchen, Shuuhei. Not only are we a man down for today, we had no prior notice of this. Surely you realize why this would cause problems for us? It's bad enough that our head chef is on vacation."
The young man nodded vigorously. "Yes, chef."
Chris hung her chef's coat up. "And can you make some vegetable okayu for me, Shuuhei? I need to run out for a second."
The line cook nodded, and headed toward the cabinet where the rice was kept.
"That idiot..." Chris muttered, as she put on her coat and headed for the pharmacy. She imagined Kinnosuke's face, flushed with a fever, and blushed.
No, no, she had to be professional.
For today, at least.
Kotoko sat at her desk, focusing on her screen. With Keita out for the week, his workload had fallen to her… which was troublesome, since he was usually the one to help her finish her work.
She let out another sigh. Why did everything have to be created digitally now? This, compounded with the fact that Yuuko's tablet had broken a couple of weeks ago and she'd just taken Kotoko's low-quality tablet instead of ordering a new one, made it feel as if she was sculpting with mittens on. She was modeling a sword, but it was hard to get both sides of it appearing symmetrical. Keita used a function where he'd make both sides move at the same time as he created the model on the program – how had he done that?
Kotoko looked at her phone. With the awkwardness between them still unresolved, she couldn't just call to ask.
Speaking of said awkwardness, what were they going to do now? Keita would be back in less than a week, and she wouldn't be able to run from him or this situation anymore. Lost in thought, she continued working as she stared intently at her screen.
Naoki walked past the cubicles in the Art Department as he made his way to the elevator. His face certainly betrayed no emotions, but he was internally seething over the fact that the conference call had made him miss lunch. What if they were out of his favorite dessert?
His eyes did a once-over of the desks at the Art Department while waiting for the elevator to make its way up, and noticed that there was still a person who hadn't left for lunch.
Was that… Airhead?
He stared at her for a couple more moments, and realized that she didn't notice him at all.
He shrugged. It wasn't his problem if she starved to death. That'd put an end to the arrangement that his mother had set up, then, at least. Right?
And surely that wasn't guilt gnawing at the edge of his mind. Nope.
Kinnosuke awoke to the banging on his door. "Open the door, now!" He could hear a woman yelling from the other side.
Damn it. He really didn't want her, of all people, to see him like this. He was sick, and barely decent – he only had his boxers on! Maybe she'd buy it if he acted if he weren't home?
"I know you're in there, Kinnosuke!" he could hear the British pastry chef roar from the other side of the door. "Shuuhei gave me the combination for your door too, so don't make me use it!"
Shit.
Jumping out of bed, Kinnosuke rushed to get dressed – but plopped back into bed as a particularly bad cough decided to emerge just then.
He could hear the door beeping, and clicking open. Seconds later, he heard footsteps approaching his room. Then, Chris barged through his door.
"Are you serious—" she began to yell, and then immediately retreated, covering her eyes. "Um, I'll give you a moment to get decent." She squeaked, her face red.
"Um, okay." He murmured, reaching around his bed for clothes. However, it was a futile attempt.
Chris set down the bags she was holding and rushed to his dresser, very clearly looking away from him. "Um, so, how bad is it?"
Kinnosuke had another coughing fit, making Chris jump a bit. "Pretty bad, huh?" she muttered, as she found a pair of comfortable looking pants, and a shirt with the Glico Man on it.
She tossed them to him over her shoulder. "Let me know when you're dressed."
Blushing, Kinnosuke reached for the clothes that had landed right on top of his chest. After a few minutes of fumbling around, he rolled to face her. "Um, you can turn around now."
Chris looked at him, and stifled a laugh. "You do realize that your shirt is on backwards, right?"
Kin shrugged—or did his best to—as he coughed again. "It's not like I'm going anywhere."
Chris picked the bags off the floor and put them on the desk next to his bed. "Here, I had Shuuhei make you some okayu. And I bought some medicine for you."
Kin nodded as he tried to sit up on his bed. Chris rushed over to his side, putting one hand on his back. "Here, let me help—"
Kin shook his head and pulled away from her.
She gave him a pained look. "I get that you don't really want to talk to me or see me right now, but you failed to take care of yourself." She busied herself with staring at the bags that she'd brought. "And now... you've put the burden of doing that onto other people. So for Christ's sake, help me help you, since you won't help yourself."
He turned his head away. "It's not that—"
"That's what you always say, right? But I don't think I'm wrong on this one." she cut him off. "And to be honest, I'm not really interested in hearing you out. It's bad for your throat to keep talking, too." Chris pulled out the medicine from the bag. "Here, take this with some liquids. There's a bottle of Pocari Sweat in the bag."
She pulled out a quart container and a plastic spoon, and set that on the desk next to his bed. "And here's the okayu."
Kin turned to face her. "Chris, I—"
She got up. "You know my number if you need anything. Or you can contact Shuuhei instead, if that's more comfortable for you."
He grabbed her hand, and pulled her back to him. He still overpowered her easily, despite his compromised state of health. Chris landed on his and scrambled to get off, but Kinnosuke's arms held her there.
"I'm sorry," he rasped. "I just—"
Chris's blue eyes met his dark brown ones. "You just… what?" she asked shakily, her cold facade crumbling.
He let out a sigh, and let his head rest on her shoulder. "I… I can't tell if you're joking or not about having feelings for me. Like, it makes no sense. But I want to be honest with you, out of respect for you. And the fact is, you deserve better than me. So why do you keep on..."
She let out an incredulous laugh, and took Kin's head in her hands, looking straight into his eyes. "You're clearly delirious. Take your medicine and go to bed. We'll talk about this when you're feeling better."
Kin's eyes closed as his head drifted toward hers, until his face was mere millimeters from hers.
"Okay," he whispered, nodding his head. As he slowly lost consciousness, his hot lips pressed against hers.
Chris's hands fell away from Kinnosuke's temples, as her eyes widened.
Kotoko glanced at the time—12:50pm—and sighed. Lunch would soon be over, and she was ravenous. She stretched her arms, and let out an exasperated sigh as she shut her eyes. The speed at which she was working frustrated even her, but there wasn't much she could do. She took a sip of coffee, hoping to dull the hunger pangs for a bit longer.
Just then, Naoki suddenly appeared behind her and pushed a couple keys on her keyboard with one hand while the other guided her mouse. "You know that there's a symmetry tool built into Zbrush, right?"
Kotoko almost jumped out of her chair. "Oh, Director Irie!"
He frowned. "And why are you using a mouse for work?"
"Well, um…" Kotoko trailed off. Naoki scanned the other desks, and his eyes stopped on Yuuko's, where an old tablet with the name "KOTOKO" written clearly over the top was.
"Oh, I see. So Matsumoto took your shitty tablet instead of going through the trouble of filing the paperwork to get a new one from the supply room, huh?" He rolled his eyes. "Can't see why she wouldn't just file the paperwork, though. Yours looks like it's from the Stone Age."
Kotoko said nothing, and Naoki let out a short sigh as he turned back to Kotoko. "Well, you should probably focus on learning the hotkeys for Zbrush. Invest an hour or two into it, and it'll shave hours off your workflow. And if you fill out the paperwork, I'll approve it so you can get a new tablet."
"Um, yes, Director Irie."
"And here." He grumbled, dropping a packed lunch onto her desk. "You're not going to get anything worthwhile done on an empty stomach."
Kotoko looked at the lunch, then at Naoki. Then back at the lunch, adoration shining in her eyes. "T-thank you so much, sir!"
"Yeah, whatever. Hurry up with the paperwork." He said, walking away.
Did he… actually care about her? Kotoko's heart fluttered with hope for a moment, but she banished those thoughts as soon as they'd come with a shake of her head.
It'd only hurt her in the long run to get her hopes up about anything regarding Naokie Irie.
Naoki looked up from his nightly reading when he heard the door unlock, and then glanced at the clock – 11 p.m. Had Kotoko been working until now? He had seen her when he'd left around 8, but thought she'd be right behind him. What's more, this was her fourth day in a row working overtime this late.
He furrowed his brow. Working hard was well and good, but how did she expect to deliver quality work every day when she was working herself to exhaustion? Sighing, he turned his attention back to his book.
Through the door, he could hear the clinking of silverware and the tap turning off and off. Then came the unmistakable sound of the stove sparking to life.
"Probably making instant ramen again." He grumbled, shaking his head.
Kotoko was unquestionably untalented when it came to cooking anything else – but when it came to ramen, she had it down to a science. Years and years of subsisting off the stuff had taught her how to eyeball the correct amount of water to put in a pot, the perfect time to put the freeze-dried packet of noodles in, and the best time to remove the pot from the flame so the noodles came out al dente every time. If Naoki wasn't so annoyed by her blatant disregard for basic self-care, he might have actually been a bit impressed.
However, what he smelled next most definitely wasn't the smell of cheap artificial broth – but something burning.
For fuck's sake.
Closing his book, Naoki rose from his seat and burst into the living room to see a black plume of smoke emerging from the kitchen. Then his eyes fell on Kotoko, who'd collapsed onto the couch in the meantime, and was blissfully unaware of what was currently happening.
Naoki drew his shirt up to his face to cover his nose and mouth, dashed into the kitchen, and turned off the stove. Then he turned on the vent to clear out the smoke, which revealed what appeared to be a charred black brick inside of the singed pot.
His pot, mind you. That Kotoko had no business using.
With oven mitts, he removed the pot from the stove and filled it with lukewarm water to soak. Hopefully it'd be salvageable, but he doubted it.
"Airhead, wake up!" Naoki snapped, shaking her. She jolted up, rubbing her eyes. "Huh? Director Irie?" Then she took a deep inhale and her face paled. "Oh no..." she moaned, hurrying over to the kitchen.
"You want to explain why you're trying to set our apartment on fire?" He bit out, pushing her aside to check on his soaking pot. Alas, the poor thing had no chance. Dumping the water out, he tossed it, black brick and all, into the trash.
Kotoko ran her hand through her hair, walking back into the living room. "I'm so sorry, Director. I'll replace-"
"Yeah, that's a given." He scoffed. "You really need to take care of yourself better, though. How do you expect to survive on caffeine and instant noodles alone? Not to mention, you've been working overtime all this week." He sank down onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. "You know that Matsumoto will never promote you just for working overtime, right? Why do you even bother working so hard?"
Not the best thing to be saying as someone in his reporting line, he knew – but it truly puzzled him. Seriously, the girl was going to end up working herself to death for no reason at this point.
"I know." Kotoko said simply, opening the balcony door. "I'd think that you of all people would understand, though."
He turned to look at her quizzically.
"I'm not doing it for Section Chief Matsumoto. Or anyone else. I'm doing it for myself, because I love what I do. When I create characters and imagine them coming to life, then imagining the players falling in love with them... it's one of the only things that consistently gets my heart racing."
She turned to him. "Isn't that the reason why you're still with the Art Department, Director? Because you also love what you do?"
Was it the lingering fumes? The moon illuminating her pale brown hair? Naoki had no clue. But surely, surely that's why he'd involuntarily thought of her as beautiful, just for that fleeting moment.
Dismissing the idiotic thought, Naoki cleared his throat. "Anyway, come home by 7 p.m. from now on. I'll make dinner from now on."
Kotoko's eyes sparkled. "Really?"
"Yeah, if only to make sure you don't burn down the place." Naoki grumbled. "And in return, you better wake up early to make us both coffee in the morning."
She nodded furiously. "Of course, of course!"
He shot her a glare. "I mean it. No morning coffee, no dinner."
Kotoko made a mental note to set several more morning alarms for herself.
"And this goes without saying, but I'll do all the shopping and I expect you to foot the grocery bill." Naoki disappeared into his room, then emerged minutes later with a sticky note. He held out to Kotoko, with a pen.
"Initial on the bottom."
It read: "Amendment 1: Naoki Irie will be tasked with making dinner on weekday evenings by 7 p.m., if Kotoko Aihara prepares a doppio con panna for him by 7 a.m. in the morning. Exceptions to this clause include cases in which Naoki Irie is incapacitated or otherwise unable to fulfill this obligation – which will be communicated to Kotoko Aihara at least an hour prior. All costs related to aforementioned meals will be covered by Kotoko Aihara, while shopping will be handled by Naoki Irie."
Kotoko looked up at Naoki. "Wait, if I'm footing the entire grocery bill, then you have to cover the cost of all the coffee I buy."
His brow furrowed. "And why should I do that? Considering the labor costs of my cooking, I think I'm being more than generous-"
"Right," Kotoko cut in, "but what about me? Not to brag, but I'm not exactly a coffee newbie."
Naoki snorted. "Considering the amount of prep that goes into cooking versus brewing coffee, that's hardly a fair trade."
Kotoko crossed her arms. "Considering the amount of time I've spent honing my craft, I'd hardly call this a fair trade, Director Irie."
The two locked eyes for a moment, neither wanting to back down. But soon enough, Kotoko broke the tension with a huge yawn.
"Fine," Naoki sighed, and crossed out the line about the grocery bill. "Now, can you sign this so I can get to bed?" Kotoko obliged and stuck it in the cabinet, right under their initial contract.
Naoki pulled out another sticky note from his pocket. "Now, let's discuss the matter of my pot that you destroyed. If you recall the clauses of our initial agreement – in particular, numbers six and seven..."
She groaned inwardly. This was going to be a long, long night.
Kotoko had set at least 10 alarms for herself that morning, but the promise of free dinner was enough to spur her out of bed by 6:30. Naoki had wordlessly finished the coffee and nodded at her before heading out, which was the closest to a compliment she could probably hope for.
She quickly followed after him to the elevator when her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was a text from Keita:
"Hey, so I passed the exam, thanks for your help as always. Heading back to work next week, so save some work for me. Dinner on me when I get back? "
She sighed with relief. She hadn't known how to approach him after what had happened, and was relieved that things seemed to be returning to normal between them.
"You had me at free dinner x)" She replied quickly, beaming at her phone.
Naoki glanced at her suspiciously, then at her phone. Was she talking to Kamogari again? But more importantly, why did he care?
The ping indicating the elevator's arrival interrupted that line of thought, to Naoki's relief. He stepped in and Kotoko followed, but he held his hand up to stop her.
"Did you forget that we're supposed to keep our situation," he said, pointing between them, "under wraps? What are you, trying to tell everyone that we live together?"
"Couldn't we just say that we ended up catching the same elevator-" Kotoko protested, but Naoki promptly pushed her out and rapidly tapped the door-close button.
She sighed exasperatedly, reaching for the call-elevator button again. God, he was such an ass. Even so, she couldn't help reaching for the part of her shoulders that he'd touched while shoving her out.
"Hey, girl!" Motoki called out to her as she stepped into the Art Department. "Um, our room assignments for the summer team-building trip are out. Check your desk."
"Awesome, I can't wait to finally kick back a little!" Kotoko squealed. "Who'd you get? And more importantly, I'm assuming you already took the liberty of checking mine?"
All she received in return was a pitying look, and a feeling of dread gripped her.
No way. No way was this trip ruined for herbefore it'd even begun-
But of course, when she rushed over to her desk to unfold the slip of paper containing her roommate assignment, the name written there was the last one she'd wanted to see: Matsumoto Yuuko.
She looked up and her eyes met the older woman's, filled with displeasure. There went any hopes for enjoying a relaxing summer getaway.
A/N: Hope you all enjoyed it! I can't make any promises about my next update – just that it's coming.
Until then, I hope you all stay safe. And for the love of all that is good, please practice good social distancing and make sure your mask covers your nose and mouth! ;)
Until next time.
xoxo Pear