Chapter 18 — It Tasted Like Home

Roil of golden yolks. Taps and batters to sound every twirl within the brilliant pool, stretched to viscous strands of yellow as it clung to the wooden chopsticks. Next was the sizzle. A simmer to bubble a golden pool, and all the delectable scents that rose with it. Fold after fold, the form fluffs and finalizes. At a glance, it all seemed a little too plain. Too ordinary. Though, there was always beauty in the simple dishes, and even a pinch of green onion was as good of a luxury as any. And when it all paired next to fresh scoops of seasoned rice and a bowl of miso soup, no appetite could go unsettled.

Eight sliced bits to portion. And a little extra for the hungry eyes just above his refrigerator— Tappi's favorite spot. His times spent chopping, cooking, and cleaning around the small hallway kitchen would often attract a small audience to observe his every move. The curious cat would had developed a special course that lead from the floor, to the nearby floor cabinet, and finally to the flat top of his small refrigerator. Fuutarou was at least thankful that Tappi was a well-mannered cat, offering nothing more than the crane of its neck as he followed Fuutarou along, swaying his long tail off the ledge like a feline pendulum.

Fuutarou held up his hand, feeding a few more scraps to his patient companion. "Careful getting down, Tappi" he warned as if the cat could understand him. Fuutarou continued through, placing down a couple of things on the wooden tray. A pair of clean chopsticks, a small dish, a bowl for rice and another for the miso soup, along with a ceramic mug for the tea.

And, another set right after.

"Hey," Fuutarou said. "It's already morning…"

He stood over the bundle of blankets that made for a messy bed, one hand placed on his hip.

"…Ichika."

Stirring in her sleep was a mess of morning hair. Pink strands shook to a ruffle. A voice that embodied lethargy in her slow mumble, submerging further with the sheets she greedily pulled towards her. "F…five… ten more minutes, Fuu… tarou… ku…" Ichika's voice dwindled to soft breaths before she could finish.

Fuutarou rolled his eyes. "That's what you said when I started cooking breakfast. Now look; I just finished."

"But… mmm…" Ichika mumbled again, longer with her every sluggish movement under the covers. "Okay… fine. I'll get up… right about…"

"Ichika."

"Okay, okay. I was just getting up." The young actress tiredly yawned. Her arms drew high over her head, stretching tiredly as she greeted the morning. All the while letting the blankets of Fuutarou's bed slowly slip along her fully exposed skin, halting at just the right parts of her body to leave him wondering what made him so upset in the first place. And by the smug look on Ichika's face, she was far from coy about it. "I'll go wash up. You can go ahead and start without me."

"I… I don't mind waiting." Fuutarou replied. Shifting his gaze a little to the side, Fuutarou handed her one of the clean shirts from the nearby drawer. "It won't be long anyway, right?"

Ichika smirked. The cute, bashful looks on his face were more than enough to make her entire morning. She made her way to the bathroom, saying to him, "Yeah, I'll make it quick. Don't miss me for too long, okay?"

"I'll do my best not to."

"Ah, good morning to you, Tappi-kun." Ichika stroked her fingers through the length of the stretching cat, pleasantly amused by how softly he purred back. When she had arrived the night before, Ichika was met with his cautious eyes that found its way between the gaps of furniture, or perched along the few vantage points he could fit, or underneath the bed she curiously peeked under—wherever Tappi could distance himself from the playful woman who was adamant on not leaving him alone.

"Looks like he's finally gotten used to you," Fuutarou said.

"He really is just like you, Fuutarou-kun." Ichika grinned back. Her fingers stroked the soft underbelly of the outstretched cat at her feet. "One way or another, Big Sis will always find her way into your heart. That's my guarantee!"

"You're just so full of yourself, aren't you? Just go and get ready before the food gets cold."

"Alright, alright." She continued along. When she made her way into the bathroom, Ichika turned back back one last time. "Oh, and Fuutarou-kun?"

"Yeah?"

She devilishly smirked. "You know… you weren't half bad last night. I never knew you could be so—"

"T-the food will get cold, Ichika!" Fuutarou loudly interrupted, and with a short giggle, Ichika disappeared behind the click of the bathroom door. He was left with a flustered grimace on his face as he looked over his room and the long night they had spent together. While he waited for her, he began to do a bit of tidying up around the place. All it took was one night to transform his small apartment into a small disaster. Though, it was nothing like the first night Ichika had spent here. His presence and his scolding had kept the slob that he called his girlfriend from being completely careless to where she tossed aside her things.

Though, Fuutarou could not help but feel a little embarrassed as he went through the corners of the room. Now when the evidence scattered all across the floor, and over the chairs, and on top of the furniture that made for his small studio apartment.

They both sat down for breakfast. A humble spread to start off their day, and Ichika delighted in every taste of it. After all, food tasted best when it was made by the one who pampered her most. "Sorry for making you do all the work, Fuutarou-kun," Ichika said as she took a bite of tamagoyaki. One hand cupped the side of her cheek as murmured over the delicious, home-cooked taste.

"Don't mention it. You've been a little jet-lagged since you got back, so I won't blame you. The week really went by, didn't it? I'm just happy that I get to see you again."

"You're too sweet. I'll make it up with lunch today, how does that sound? What are you feeling? Pizza? Ramen? Or maybe some curry?"

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Futuarou questioned. "Also, why is the first thing you think about is takeout? Don't tell me that's what you've been eating while you're in America…"

"I-I'm not! Wait… why do you ask?" Ichika raised her elbows, alternating glances between the the left and right sides of her hips. All the while, she carried something between a puzzled and pouted look. "Does it seem like I gained weight? That's not what you're saying, right?"

"I… didn't say any of that? Where did you get that idea?"

"But it's not true, right?"

"That wasn't what I was—" Fuutarou stopped himself. Now was not the time for banters, and the dark-haired boy promptly placed down his chopsticks. His back straighten, his eyes fixed firmly into the worrisome look in his partner's eyes, and Fuutarou plainly stating, "No. There's no way that's true. If anything, you look better than ever, Ichika."

"You're not just saying that just to make me feel better, are you?" Ichika asked, layering her arms over her stomach. A short lapse in his judgment had made Fuutarou briefly picture the girl in front of him to be Itsuki, complete with the exact same expression and posture the youngest sister would have made over the same concern. If his judgment had been any poorer, Fuutarou would not have been able to promptly and confidently reassure her.

"Of course not," Fuutarou said.

"You mean it?"

"Wholeheartedly."

"Alright… fine. I trust you, Fuutarou-kun. I know you wouldn't lie to me." Ichika picked back up her chopsticks and resumed eating. "Sorry. It was just some stupid thing the girls said. Anyways, what were we talking about?"

"I was going to bring up our plans for today," Fuutarou said. "Remember? We were talking about it last night."

While the chopsticks were still in her mouth, a small bulb had flickered in Ichika's head. "Ah, right! Hanami!"

A picnic under the ephemeral grace of the cherry blossoms—a season in full bloom. From the final days that made for two seasons' passage, the warmth of a gently approaching springtide would leave many feelings to flourish. Comfort, leisure, love. Spring signaled the close of another year during these decisive moments that made up both of their lives. Their only regret from the year prior was that Fuutarou and Ichika had never gotten the chance to fully enjoy this moment with just the two of them, and them alone.

"I can't believe I forgot," Ichika continued. "I never thought we'd be able to spend Hanami together this year. It'll be our first time."

Fuutarou nodded. "Let's make good use of the time we have together. Before we send you back to America again."

"Yeah…" Ichika took a long breath. She eyed the corners of this tiny apartment she so easily called home. It did not need to be lavish; it did not need to be humble. As long as the one she loved most was waiting for her, Ichika would want nothing more than to hurry back to wherever it may be. She stood on her feet, lifting her arms high above her head. "Okay! Let's make sure we do our very best!"

"Who was that supposed to be?" Fuutarou chuckled. "Yotsuba?"

"Heh…" Ichika chuckled. "Thought it'd be nice to have a bit of her energy. I could surely use it from time to time. In fact…" Ichika stepped around the table, making for the yellow colored coating of her traveling luggage. The large pockets unzipped, and Fuutarou was left with only a grimace as he saw the bundles of clothes forcefully shoved inside. Perhaps at one point they were neatly folded, but that time already seemed so far gone. Ichika hardly seemed to mind, as the young actress eventually fished out a pair of dark gray fitted leggings and a neon pink sport tank top. She turned beside her, "Fuutarou-kun, let's go for a quick jog!"

"Jogging?" He raised a brow. "Wait, right now?"

"Why not? It helps with getting my day started. I haven't done it at all since I've came back."

"It's just a little out of the blue. We still haven't thought about what we'd bring to our picnic."

"Wanna do something simple? Like onigiri?"

"Oh… that was the last of the rice too. If we're making onigiri then I suppose we'll have to wait for it to cook first… I suppose it'll be fine. Though, I don't have a good pair of running shoes…"

Caught within his straying thoughts, Fuutarou had not realized that his partner had leisurely stepped around the tea table. Her arms caressed him by his shoulders, and there was heaviness smothered against his back as she leaned over him. "Come on, it'll be fun! And besides…" Ichika played with the short strands of his dark hair, parting the bits that fell beside his ear. Warmth of her whispers sent chills down his spine. "We do need to work on your stamina a little, Fuutarou."

His knee rattled the table. Any stronger and he would have spilled some of the teacups over. And something about the way Ichika smirked at him told the flustered boy that she would have been the least part apologetic. He felt himself swallow large gulps of air, and with his face turned, he sputtered, "K-knock it off, Ichika! Look, we'll go, alright? Just… just let me get changed and we'll go."

They continued their morning routine. A bit of time to put away their plates and perform a little tidying up before they left the apartment. Fuutarou had mentioned that there was a nearby path they could run that passed a small park. From there, they could follow the main road that would eventually lead to the one of the large ponds Fuutarou had often found his fellow university students running along. Simple enough. He had confidence enough that he could keep up with Ichika, and if it were only a short jog then it should not have been too much of a problem.

Ichika wanted to believe it too. She wanted to disregard the subtle guilt that slowed her stride, knowing that she had hardly broken past a light sweat compared to the lumbering, panting, worn out boy that trailed behind her. This was all after one round. She jogged a few steps back to him, taking off her earbuds. "You alright there, Fuutarou-kun? Wanna take a break?"

"I'm… fi… fine…" Fuutarou leaned over his knees. Dribbles of water slipped from the corner of his mouth and into dampened spots on his shirt.

Ichika patted him gently on the back. "Take your time. We'll continue once you've had a breather."

"I underestimated the distance…" Fuutarou mumbled to himself, wiping some of the water from his chin. "I thought I've improved. At least a little, but I'm already this worn out."

"For what it's worth, you're a lot better than we first met." Ichika laughed. " Jogging might seem simple, but if your form is off, then you're just making things harder for yourself. Here, start with standing a little straighter."

"Like this?"

"Posture too. It helps a lot to keep your chest and shoulders lifted like that." She ran her fingers and palm across the length of his chest, playfully patting the sturdy muscles underneath. "Your strength has gotten a lot better, but it's worth throwing in a little more cardio to go with your workouts. Oh, and make sure to also land evenly on your feet and not just your heel."

Fuutarou slowly nodded, pinching the tip of his chin. "I see… so I just want to…"

"Ah, and don't overthink too much either. Just feel it!"

After a quick breath, Fuutarou straightened himself. "Alright. I think I'm good now. We can continue."

"Great! We'll take a little slower going back." They continued down their jogging route. Wisps of the springtime wind blew past them, stirring the fresh fallen petals of the cherry blossoms. A pleasant morning for a pleasant day.

"By the way," Fuutarou said while he jogged beside Ichika.

"Hm? What's up?"

"We could use a few more things for our picnic. Should we stop by the convenience store before we head back home? We past by one on the way here."

"'Before we head back home,' huh…" Ichika repeated after him, letting the words settle in her words settle just off her tongue. Her gaze fixed forward, towards the tall buildings that made the city of Tokyo, and all of the people that coursed within it. Somewhere within this city of millions was a tiny place—one surrounded in four walls with a warm bed, a small table, a curious little cat, and a boy who had all the patience in the world when it came to her. Somewhere here was another life she so greedily wanted—one she sometimes felt was so far away that it made today's memories feel just like a dream. If it was, then the daydreaming girl wished she could close her eyes for that much longer. "Sure. But first, do you mind repeating that one more time, Fuutarou-kun?"

"What? Heading back home?"

"Yeah… that. It just sounds… really nice when you say it."

And slowly, Ichika picked up her pace. She happily raced forward, leaving her partner to clumsily chase after her. "Hey! Wait up! Ichika!"

"You've had it too easy. Try and keep up!"

"Are you kidding m—Ichika! Come on! You're just running now!"

She turned back. As bright and wide as the shimmers of where sunlight met the surface of the pond they ran beside, Ichika grinned. "I just want to hurry home!"

After a broken rhythm to their route and a few turns around familiar corners, the two of them had found their way to a nearby convenience store. Fuutarou had frequented this place between his long walks to and from Tokyo University. It only needed to be a quick trip. A brief stop to gather whatever snacks that suited their cravings and whatever drinks that tasted best within the warmth of a bright spring day. Though, at this moment, Fuutarou found nothing more desirable than another bottle of water, which he already went through the trouble of purchasing the moment they entered the store.

For Ichika, she picked out a bag of chocolate mushrooms, a container of pickled vegetables, and a bottle of mocha frappucino. For Fuutarou, he grabbed a small container of karaage, tri-color dango, and a large bottle of green tea. They even picked up a small slice of strawberry shortcake when they both found themselves eyeing it a little too long. "We don't need to pick up anything else too heavy" Fuutarou said as they strolled into another aisle. "Onigiri will be our staple, so we can pick up some of the filling here. Anything come to mind?"

Ichika looked at the rows of canned foods, humming quietly to herself. "Hmm… well, you can't go wrong with some tuna. Salmon sounds fine too. Or would something more seasonal seem better, like sakura onigiri?"

"Not sure if we'd find the ingredients to make it here," Fuutarou replied. "But you're right. Seasonal sounds like it'd be perfect. We can just grab two of the ones they made here."

"Good idea." Ichika nodded. "Then, do we need anything else?"

Fuutarou thought for a moment. "No… nothing quite. I think everything else we'd need is already back at my place. Oh, how about for later tonight? Should we think about something to cook, or are we going to pick something up?"

"It's looking like it'll be a long day for us," said Ichika. "Maybe it'll be better to just take it easy tonight?"

"So takeout?"

"If you're down for it. We could order some pizza. Perfect if we want to watch a movie or something tonight."

"Pizza? I don't know. That sounds like it'll be a little pricey for just us two."

"Come on; I'll even cover for it! It's the least I can do for your hospitality." Ichika winked at him. "And you've never tried any before, right? It's good to treat yourself every once in a while."

"I mean, if you're insisting that much." Fuutarou shrugged. "Alright. Sure, I'm up for it. Let's just finish up what we need here then." He placed the last of their goods into the basket. "Do you think—"

"Hey," a voice strolled behind them, "isn't that that one actress?"

They both stiffened their shoulders. Before they could even think about what excuses they could come up with, two boys who looked no older than high school students had approached them.

And continued past them.

"Oh Morioka Misako-san?" the second boy. "Dude, I am a huge fan of her. She is just so hot. You ever seen her…"

It was only then had Fuutarou and Ichika realize that they stood right beside a row of vibrant, printed page. Bright and bold letters decorated the front of each publication, with clear imagery that advertised what was in the pages. A magazine rack.

They both let out a deep sigh. "I almost forgot about that," Fuutarou said, now looking a little more cautious than before. "Is it really a good idea for you to be walking around like this? What if someone recognizes you?"

The young actress's attention lied elsewhere. Pulling aside the magazine those boys were looking at, Ichika began to slowly examine the cover. "Ah, I see, I see…" Ichika muttered to herself.

"Ichika?"

"Hm?" She lightly flinched. "Oh, sorry. What were you saying, Fuutarou-kun?"

"What's gotten you so spaced out?" He glanced over at her hands. "A magazine?"

"Yeah. Do you remember her?" Ichika held up the cover for him to see. It was a portrait shot. The actress at the center was a glamorous looking woman with long, brown hair. A litter of intrusive text decorated the space around her, with the most prominent text detailing—'Morioka Misako. Exclusive Interview with one of Japan's Top Rising Actresses of the Decade!'

"I can't say I do…?"

"Morioka-san. She's a former co-star of mine. Do you remember, The Vermilion Riddle? That last big thing I made while I was still in Japan? She was the leading actress."

"Ah, now she sounds familiar." Fuutarou leaned over her shoulder, watching her as she flipped through some of the pages. Celebrity gossip, dating scandals, and a plethora of photo shoots, as far as Fuutarou was concerned. Nothing that seemed worth perusing, unless of course, the articles featured Ichika herself. "So? What about her?"

"Morioka-san looks like she's been doing pretty well. A lot better since I last heard about her. See this article here? She's got her own exclusive interviews and everything." Ichika flipped through a few more pages. "Whoa… looks like she's featured in another lead role. It's a drama. Now that I think about it, that was always her forte…"

"I doubt she's better than you though," Fuutarou confidently stated, but to Ichika it may as well have been ignorance.

Ichika laughed. "Oh come on, now you're totally being biased. I'm sure the only films you've seen are the ones I've been in, or the ones that I make you watch."

"Not true." Fuutarou held up a finger. "I've been enjoying more of them in my free time, ever since Takeda gave me the password to some of the streaming sites he's subscribed to. They even have subtitled Western films, though, I still get confused over a few of them."

"Wow, you've really gotten into them now. I'm impressed. But, why Western films?"

"Why else?" Fuutarou placed a hand over her head, briefly ruffling the strands of her short, thin hair. "I mean exactly what I say, Ichika. You're the best actress I know—whether in Japan or in America. It's only fair that I know a thing or two if you're going to keep thinking I'm just being biased."

Ichika gawked at him. How could she not, when the words so shamelessly and foolishly fell out of his mouth, as if it were the easiest thing in the world to say. Fuutarou was no actor—neither novice nor prodigy when it came to disguising his truest feelings. In a way, Ichika wished that he was. Anything to slow down the flushes of red and pink that filled her cheeks when she was the least bit prepared for it.

The pages of the magazine were all that separated her from the face of her lover, held up to mask the stall of her lips and all the words she could not quickly come up with. When even that became a little too embarrassing, Ichika retaliated with one, then two, then three, light flicks of the magazine over Fuutarou's face, nudging him away with a coy shake to her head. "We're in public, you idiot…" she mumbled quietly. "Don't just randomly say things like that…"

Fuutarou returned a smirk. Celebrate the smaller victories, for all the chances he could ever get. They both put the magazine back into its spot on the rack. "Though, that has got me thinking…" Fuutarou leaned over, cupping his hands beside Ichika's ear. "Aren't you… you know, aren't you a little worried about people recognizing you too? We've just been running all over the place without something to disguise you with."

Ichika carelessly waved her hand. "Oh, don't worry about that. Nakano Ichika is pretty much old news in Japan. Well, it's not like I was even that big to begin with. That reminds me; I should send my regards to Oda-san while I'm back."

"Your manager?"

"Former," she corrected. "We're under a temporarily paused contract for the time being. Him and I have stayed in touch since I left, and he's been very… enthusiastic about my return." Ichika nervously laughed. She remembered exactly how their previous conversation went over the phone.

"… I am beyond impressed, Nakano-san!" Oda had called her one evening, following the release of one of her new student films. "To think that our star actress could only have gotten better! Your skills are absolutely phenomenal."

"Your praise flatters me, Oda-san." Ichika replied with a long yawn. She rolled over from one side of her to the other, squinting at the clock on her nightstand. A little past midnight; a little too late to be having this kind of conversation. But for her former manager back in Japan, a phone call a few minutes after five p.m. was as good of a time as any. "I am just doing the best I can."

"You don't understand," Oda continued, "An actress of your talent comes around once in a lifetime! Your acting prowess can only skyrocket now that you can do both Japanese-speaking and English-speaking roles. Even Kiku-chan has starting picking up a few things from your new films."

"I… understand." Again, Ichika yawned. "Oda-san, do you think we can talk about this later? Or maybe through email, because I—"

The exuberant man ignored her. His voice had suddenly grown wary, formed to a nervous stuter.. "N-n-nakano-san.. You haven't been… approached have you?"

"Approached…?"

"Y-you haven't been scouted by any other agencies, have you?!" Oda exclaimed. "Y-you mustn't, alright?! You are our star, Nakano-san! We cannot afford—"

"Oda-san…" Ichika quietly groaned, looking at her digital clock tick another minute further into the evening. "Don't worry. I can assure you that—"

"Because I've been contacted by several firms that have inquired about you and…"

Ichika shook the bothersome memory from her head. "Anyways, enough talk about work!" She reached over, plucking the shopping basket from Fuutarou's hands. She freely swayed as she sauntered over to the cashiers, calling back to Fuutarou, "Let's ring these up and hurry back home. I want to shower."

With their groceries in hand, Fuutarou and Ichika made their way back to the apartment. It was hardly more a couple of minutes away, and Ichika figured they had done enough so that they could just walk the rest of the way. Up a few stairs and past a door that looked like all of its neighbors, they tiredly entered their own special place. A place that reached into a short hallway with their shoes neatly placed beside the wall. A place that harbored a scent Ichika could just never get enough of, stealing away her worries the moment the door shut behind them.

Peering around a corner further down the hallway were a pair of feline eyes, fixed to a tilted head. Just as they always were, whenever Tappi would hear the familiar clicks and turns of the apartment door. The eventual shift to complete indifference from his cat was a greeting Fuutarou had already grown accustomed to, and he playfully scratched Tappi's head as he past. It was comforting. There would be times where the young college boy would wonder how he had ever taken a non-empty home for granted. Now that his place housed two, Fuutarou wanted nothing more than to work his hardest so that these days would eventually encompass the rest of his life.

They took turns. Fuutarou let Ichika have the first round in the shower while he got things organized around the kitchen. The rice had finished cooking, their ingredients had been set, and he had finished gathering the last of their kitchen bowls. Whenever the sounds of his creaking cupboard echoed through the tiny apartment, it served as a cue for Tappi to take his place right atop the refrigerator. Cooking, as it seemed, was something the cat took great pleasure in watching. Adding to his own enjoyment, his gracious owner would occasionally offer small scraps of food during the whole process, so as long as he kept patient.

But what stimulated the senses of what would otherwise be a well-mannered cat were the times when Tappi would heard a familiar and distinct sound. Tappi knew exactly what noises made for the cabinet drawer closest to the wall, the rummage of tools as his owner dug around, and the clamp of a fixed can opener as it sliced around the tin rim of canned tuna. When that happened, Tappi could never watch calmly.

"What's up with him?" Ichika laughed as she stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel. The first thing that greeted her the perched cat, poised with his neck stretched out and body leaned over as if he could pounce on Fuutarou at any moment.

"He's just being a brat," Fuutarou said with a roll to his eyes. He looked upward, giving Tappi a scolding glare. "You'll get some later, alright? Behave."

"Does that ever work on him?"

"Who knows?" He shrugged. "Just don't spoil him while I'm not looking. He'll just keep begging for more."

Ichika happily agreed with him, nudging him to the bathroom so that they could get started sooner. Preparation was simple enough. Rolled balls of freshly made rice to package, accompanied with store bought rice seasoning and prepackaged filling. Neither of them would so readily admit it, but Fuutarou and Ichika both knew that they were pretty lousy cooks. A symptom of their younger sisters, who often blessed their bellies with heartwarming meals after long days. In these two years they had spent living mostly alone, their repertoire of kitchen skills and meals were hardly impressive. In fact, some would argue that it was pathetic. At the very least, Fuutarou took solace in the fact that he could follow instructions, and that their breakfast this morning turned out rather well for a first attempt.

But onigiri—that was something they could at least make with confidence. 'Simple was best'—a pithy saying that dictated Futuarou's poor palette for most of his frugal life. Whatever filled his stomach in the cheapest way, regardless of taste. Everything about this meal was simple. The rice was plain; the seasoning was basic; the seaweed practically wrapped itself.

And still, the small scoop of rice he tasted off Ichika's finger was better than anything he had ever tried. "How is it?" Ichika asked. "Enough seasoning? A little more?"

"I think it tastes great," said Fuutarou , wiping his lips. "Once we add in the filling, it'll be perfect."

"Great!" Ichika grinned. She understood why Nino and Miku loved doing this so much. Even if a child could follow this recipe, seeing the face of the person she wanted to feed most left nothing but warmth in her heart. It made her want to keep trying her very best. The rice felt as if every grain glistened as they shaped it in their palm. The seasoning carried the most delectable scent as it scattered into the bowl. The seaweed spoke a pleasant and crisp crunch when it folded between their fingers and tempted a quick taste.

One by one the bundles of rice balled between their palms. It would only be the two of them, so there was not any need to go overboard with the preparation. If anything, the time seemed to go by a little too quickly. Their time cooking together became lost amidst idle conversation. Words of comfort and bliss. Like the moment one of them would be greeted home by the other after a long, wearisome day. Speaking, quipping, ranting, bantering as they carried on—as if today were like any other day.

It was home.

A glimpse into those faraway days, and a memory to hold onto for the long journey left to travel.

Their lunch neatly packed into a woven basket, wrapped within a picnic blanket for two. Cleaning came after. Ichika would be reminded just how fussy of a person her partner could be. What she would normally consider good enough was an atrocity in Fuutarou's eyes, though, it was possible that they both were right and wrong, one way or another. Regardless, they now stood within the sanctity of a spotless kitchen. Every used dish had been scrubbed and placed away. The counter had been wiped to a dimmed shine, same as the floor beneath their feet.

"How are we looking?" said Ichika as she leaned her back against the counter. Since they had already packed everything they would need for the picnic, they decided to just share the small slice of cake they had picked up earlier.

"It's half past one," Fuutarou replied, folding the last of their aprons. "It shouldn't start getting too crowded yet. Not if we leave soon, anyway."

"Where'd Tappi run off to?"

"Probably asleep at his spot under the desk. He likes it there."

"I'll go ahead and get changed then. Here, finish up the rest of it. Say ah…." Ichika held up her fork and Fuutarou took a casual bite. "Oh, hang on a second…"

"Hmm?"

Ichika tapped her cheekbone. "You got a little something there."

"Do I?" He rubbed his cheek but it came off a little too forceful.

"Ah, now look. You've gone and made yourself all dirty again. Right after we showered too." She leaned closer, making sure to keep the bright shades of her blue eyes where Fuutarou could see them. "Did you want me to clean you up…?"

Without waiting for his response, Ichika slowly scooped the whipped cream that smeared his cheek. Her lips left a soft smacking sound as her finger parted from her mouth, letting the tip of her tongue stroke from one corner of her lips to the other. Sweetness and savor. She watched until she was satisfied. She slowed down her suggestive gestured ever so slightly to enjoy every moment. After all, those golden eyes belonged to someone who desired her and she knew it.

Finally, Ichika giggled to herself. "Come on, say something! You should have known by now that was coming, Fuuta—whoa!"

She felt herself suddenly being lifted off her feet. She felt need, passion, and impatience—all at once. Strength that effortlessly found its way underneath her leg, then thighs until Ichika found herself propped against the kitchen counter. As if by instinct, her legs tenderly wrapped around the body that pressed itself in between her, leaving her with nothing left to reach for other than the kitchen wall behind her.

As she took a long, baffled look into those golden eyes, Ichika knew that she had taunted a starved beast a little too far. A tickle and a tease too close, and her confidence and composure had crumbled entirely. Ichika was the one who should have known. She knew exactly where her lover's eyes had strayed the moment she stepped out of the shower, wearing Fuutarou's loosely fitted button-up shirt like a dress. Suppleness of her soaked skin had seeped into the thin cotton, letting the outlines of her black undergarments bleed through.

All she could think about now was the warmth. Heat. Heaves of their tired, impulsive breaths that made for this tiny space between them, narrowed further the more her lover leaned. Whenever he did, Ichika would instinctively tighten her legs around his waist. She would sometimes forget about the underlying strength that had sculpted his muscles. From the ends of his broad shoulders and down the lengths of his arms which her fingernail gingerly traced.

Steady. Firm and ferocious to every part of his dormant lust. And at the same time, his touch was gentle. Delicate in every way the weight of his hand found every way up, around, and over the curves of leg, then thigh, then waist. Slipped behind her was his other hand, placed squarely at her lower back so that she may fall further into him. He held her like she was brittle. Dainty. Like every part of her—from the head that laid upon her thin neck, down to her pointed feet that teetered off the edge of the counter—were made of glass.

But Fuutarou already knew. He knew exactly what kind of look belonged to someone who desired him just as much as he desired her. He knew just how maddening it was for her to become the one at the other's mercy. He knew just where to reach and how tightly he needed to squeeze so that he could force the most sweetest of sounds from his lover, sent straight down the sides of his neck.

And still, Ichika stayed cocky. Even if the bright red fluster of her cheeks sold out every sense of her false bravado, Ichika stayed cocky. Her smile was crooked; her brow was crooked. Her fingers ruffled through the still-dampened strands of his dark hair before tightening to a roughened grasp as she neared the back of his head. She pulled him closer. "You just can't get enough of me, can you?" Ichika quipped between her clenched teeth.

"You know I can't." Fuutarou leaned forward. A slight smile formed on his lips. Perhaps there was still a tiny bit of patience in him after all. Just a tiny bit. "So, I'm going to enjoy every moment I have with you now."

"It's gonna get crowded if we show up too late, you know…"

She asked him that, but Ichika already knew that he did not care.

And right now, neither did she.

Her finger curled towards the part of her lips—her last tease and invitation to finally have his way.

Author's Note

Alright I lied.

Turns out I've harbored a lot more bitterness than I thought. May continued to be a busy month, but the hype following the movie filled me with ALL of the love, disdain, and bitterness I needed to get another chapter out. In fact, it went even further and it made me produce TWO new chapters! One for Everything, and another (ahem) …unique one shot. It started off as a dumb joke but that kept going and going and well… at the time of posting this update I have also uploaded the 'Bad End' story, Nothing! Be sure to check that. Or don't, you don't owe me anything. I still feel guilty and ashamed writing it, but what can I say? I felt SUPER spiteful this month, especially to myself.

That aside, the movie still looks absolutley gorgeous! Credit to bibury and their amazing art and soundtrack. It was wonderful to see our girls again, and it pains me to think that this would be the final farewell. Of course, my bitterness stems from the clear disrespect done to Ichika and her scenes in the movie. They had to do her dirty one last time, huh? Regardless, I am content. The community is still going strong and I'm seeing more fanfics pop up than ever. Even if the movie is the sendoff, I'll still be here for a while.

But that is that story and this is this story. Keeping things nice and fluffy was just the kind of chapter I needed to balance my time for this month, and overall, it turned out pretty well! Imagining their home life together always gives me the sweetest and most heartfelt thoughts, and while there is still some time before that in the story, I figured the two could have a little taste of those eventual days. Who knows, maybe people read fanfiction for that sort of thing or something. (×﹏×)

Anyways, thanks to those who left reviews on Chapter 17 and any recent chapters—Fox McCloude, codywhite162, Random Reader Guy, chloetuco, TheMist33, Quintaphract, XGoGame, segft, Joshiyes, BYPONAS21 , and any other guest review(s)! Thanks also to the reddit commenters—StellarGravityWell, chloetuco, OkinaNeko7, and cassethf03! Wow, a bit more new names this time!

_φ(。。) "Evil bobalon says: '…' "