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“Everyone left me behind…” Hanayagi Kaoruko sniffled into her pillow pitifully - more from her seasonal flu than any actual sadness - and put on a dejected face. “Even Futaba-han, she didn’t even say goodbye…!” Drawing her covers around her, Kaoruko’s pout turned in on itself as she reared up for another sneeze, grabbing a tissue just in time and sneezing into it. She was running out. But going to the living room to grab another pack or two meant running into -- into her .
Japan’s winters were just another one of the entries on the long, long list of ‘ things that don’t agree with Hanayagi Kaoruko ’, but unlike green onions, Kaoruko couldn’t just foist the entirety of winter onto Futaba, or pay it off with her black credit card. And this year, just like the year before, Kaoruko was bedridden - or so she insisted - with a nasty fever. Realistically just using it as an excuse to skip out on extra practice, and have Futaba hand-feed her a meal or two, Kaoruko wasn’t quite as close-to-death as she’d have people believe.
Being able to sniff out Kaoruko’s lies as easily as Kaoruko herself could sniff out her favorite snacks, Futaba had caught on to her girlfriend’s sandbagging quickly. She’d stomached it for a few days, figuring it was no different from how she was usually treated by her ‘girlfriend’, but today was different. Most of her friends, save for Daiba Nana, were going out Christmas shopping, and Futaba had slipped out whilst Kaoruko had been asleep, not wanting to miss out. She’d felt a little bad for her, but that girl could stand to learn a lesson every once in a while; god knows she never paid attention long enough to learn anything at school.
As far as Kaoruko was concerned though, this was daylight treason - but she could punish Futaba appropriately when she returned. For now, she had to deal with her own wants and needs, as unequipped as she was to do that. At first, Kaoruko was sure she could just endure her sniffly nose and sore throat, but as her nose grow red from dabbing at it with the - now slightly soggy - tip of her duvet, she decided she couldn’t bear it any more. Soon enough, a quilted mass was shuffling down the corridor, a bluenette head of hair poking grumpily out from inside of it. Mumbled curses could be heard echoing through the halls as Hanayagai Kaoruko sought out her desires with all the rage of a scorned, spoilt Stage Girl. The unlucky students that passed her in the hallway dared not meet her eye, lest they be transformed into a stand-in Futaba on the spot.
“Oh, Kaoruko-chan!”
Kaoruko’s heart jolted as she heard Nana’s distinctive tone. Somehow, she’d ended up walking right to the living room, perhaps searching for some snacks. She already knew Nana had claimed the kitchen this morning, so why had she walked right into the dragon’s lair? It wasn’t like Kaoruko disliked Nana, though; there was just something about her that always threw off Kaoruko’s own pace. It’d been the same in their first year - Nana always trying to peel Kaoruko out of her shell - but it’d only gotten worse, in their second year. Either way, though, she couldn’t just run away, now; that would be a disgrace on the Hanayagi household. Or so Kaoruko told herself.
“Did you come for a snack? I’ve got just the thing for a cold!” Nana’s predictably piercing insight made Kaoruko pull her duvet a bit tighter around her shoulders. “There should be some spare tissues on the table, too.” Smiling, Nana caught Kaoruko’s indignant little pout and turned away, not wanting to make her mood any worse. Kaoruko certainly wasn’t the easiest of her classmates to deal with, but Nana always found a way into people’s hearts; with Maya, it had been baumkuchen, and Junna just needed a massage every once in a while. Kaoruko herself refused to budge on anything, however, and Nana was beginning to think it might be better to leave her alone and wait for her to make the first move.
“I know where they are, banana-han.” Kaoruko responded, a little too nasally for her own liking. This cold really could be the death of her, after all. Catching her sneeze in a tissue, Kaoruko spent a good minute trying to relieve the blockage in her nose, before finally pulling the tissue away and taking a good, long breath of air.
Was that… Mince pies?
Come to think of it, Kaoruko hadn’t noticed what Nana had been cooking, but now that she had free reign to sniff as much as she liked, there was no doubt that the girl had been baking a set of mince pies. The thick, fruity tang of the treats hung in the air, and Kaoruko couldn’t help but realise she hadn’t eaten anything all day. Perhaps she could bear a few banana-related puns, if it meant sweet-talking one or two of the pies out of her. Please, just not the bananabike…
Sliding onto the sofa and making her home there in a single second, Kaoruko popped her head up, and began to watch Nana quite intensely. Just as she’d expected, Nana was working as diligently as ever, mixing the filling for the pies with a grin on her face. Even with her hair bunched into a single ‘bunch’ at the back, Daiba Nana was still very much ‘ everyone’s banana ’.
Nana knew Kaoruko was watching her, choosing instead to let her be instead of chasing her about with intrusive questions and queries. Like an unfamiliar cat, it was best to let her approach you.
“Futaba-han makes them with more cinnamon than that. And sugar, too.”
What? The bowl almost jolted out of Nana’s arms. In all her years, she’d never known Kaoruko to be into cooking, let alone baking. Perhaps this was just another thing she was surprisingly passionate about, like green onions, obscure sweets - or making sure Futaba spoiled her absolutely rotten. Well, even that last one was something Nana found endearing around the heiress of Seisho’s 99th class.
“Cinnamon, huh?” Nana collected herself, and replied to Kaoruko’s sudden comment with her usual cadence. Sure, she’d spent sixty years ‘studying’ cooking, and definitely longer studying her classmates, but there was always something more to learn. That was what Karen had said, right? “Would you like to add it?”
Kaoruko retreated into her blanket at that. “I, uh… I’d infect it.” Weaselling out of having to stand up and force herself to do something as menial as helping with the cooking, Kaoruko stuck a single, indignant hand out of her blanket and pointed at Nana. “You just keep adding it, and I’ll tell you when to stop.” Business as usual.
Nana giggled. So, this was how Futaba felt? She had to admit, it wasn’t all bad. There was something sparkling in Kaoruko’s eyes. “Okay, you just say, right?” Replacing the mixing spoon she’d had in one hand with the cinnamon tumbler, and getting the sugar out for later, Nana let her always-busy mind take the back seat. Nana had to admit, Kaoruko had a bit more of a Dahlia vibe, as opposed to Nana’s Jamie Oliver cooking style, but there was nothing to say they couldn’t get along.
"Geez, so you survived without me, huh?" Isurugi Futaba looked genuinely relieved that Kaoruko hadn't managed to kill herself - or destroy the dorms - while she was gone. In fact, snuggled up in her blanket and enjoying a fresh mince pie, Kaoruko almost seemed like she'd had a good time.