Chapter Text
Haru
Light in the shape of sunshine strips make the room just a little bit less dreary-looking in a warm Saturday morning. Haru's apartment is in a slight state of disarray, with things misplaced here and there. The only items carefully put away are those that have to do with his secret hobby: in cardboard boxes, in the closet, wherever they would be safely tucked away, as most of them are gifts from his lovely audience.
Haru is a mere mortal after all, so as he slowly comes back from the land of dreams, the first thing he does is reach for his phone as if it was instinct. The harsh blue light this early in the morning makes him squint, but that doesn't stop him. Without a second thought, the first thing he does is scroll through the comments on his latest video. Most of them are in Japanese and what looks like English, but there are a handful of them written in symbols that are totally foreign to him. What languages were his videos getting subtitled in? His audience was truly lovely.
richard19 said:
The cooking is great and all, but the subtitles are comforting in a way I can't quite describe? Watching Haru-sama's videos feels like I'm talking to an old friend who is passionate about cooking and encouraging me to cook, too. It's 3AM and I'm tired but I want to try making that Castella cake!
hanachan04 said:
I wish Haru-san was my dad! I'd have delicious meals every day!!
marimarib612 said:
That Castella cake looks so fluffy!! I wonder if mine would be as fluffy… Haru-chan's hands are magic!!
shimamura25 said:
I wonder if Haru-san is a college student? He's wearing a varsity jacket! Maybe he's the sporty type…?
Haru snorts at that. Even if they found out what college he had attended, and the team he got that varsity jacket from, it was all in the past. But as always, he doesn't reveal himself. He doesn't want to ruin the fun of the mystery that his identity is. He wouldn't want to ruin the image that his audience has made up in their heads, because the real Haru can't compare…
The next comments are a bit weirder than the kinder, more tame top comments:
royalpantsu said:
I thought I wasn't into guys, but now I am reconsidering, and Haru hasn't even shown his face! But I'm betting on my firstborn that Haru's face is as cute as everyone thinks he is.
rereremooo69 replied to royalpantsu:
gay
royalpantsu replied to rereremooo69:
Yeah and what about it?
rereremooo69 replied to royalpantsu:
same bro
prettykitty said:
Is anyone else finding his hands SUPER attractive? Please please tell me I'm not the only one!!
meltedsorbet replied to prettykitty:
Haru's hands are beautiful, they're art…
amenodorime replied to prettykitty:
i thought i was the only one!! these are the most attractive hands i've even seen in my 20 yrs in this earth, idk how to describe it they just are lol
rinachan22 replied to prettykitty:
I am overwhelmed by the desire of holding Haru-chan's hands… I wanna feel their warmth…
satoshi99 replied to prettykitty:
I find myself staring at his hands when he's stirring that batter… I wanna see more of him kneading dough… that's sexy of him.
"Huh," Haru said, squinting at his phone, wondering if he'd read that right. There were always some comments at the top complimenting his appearance in a very polite manner, but now there were… a lot of them. In fact, most of the comments weren't about his cooking. Weird.
retsutsu88 said:
Why is the bow on the back of his apron so cute? I haven't even seen Haru-san's face and I already think he's very appealing! What is this sorcery?
kagssupremacy replied to retsutsu88:
Are you sure you were just looking at the bow? His backside is a sight for sore eyes~
prettykitty replied to kagssupremacy:
I was waiting for the moment when Haru turned around and get something from the fridge so I could stare at his butt… grrr
Hinatalightofmylife replied to kagssupremacy:
Haru-chan has CAKE!
Haru rolled over in his bed, pressing his red face against a pillow and stifling his surprised noises. Despite the weirdness of the comments they were very flattering too, so he couldn't help but feel embarrassed reading them. Maybe being watched so closely by this many people wasn't a good idea…
If he wore baggier clothes, would these comments stop…?
He hugged his pillow even more tightly, not wanting to get out of bed, but also aware that he didn't want to read any more comments, for now at least.
Once he's calmed down about what he'd just read, slowly but surely (it's a lazy Saturday, okay?) Haru goes through his daily morning routine. He doesn't have to get ready for work, but for recording, so he takes his sweet time. The clothes he wears are his better looking ones, but they're still comfortable in the way they're a bit too big on his lean frame, giving him an air of being a cozy and warm person, wearing a long and very soft beige sweater that covered all of his butt. Yes, he was still feeling shy about those comments…
And even if he never shows his face, going in front of the camera makes Haru a bit nervous. Yes, he can re-record things (as he has done many times when his face accidentally shows in frame), but self doubt is always at the corner of his mind, eating at his brain… he shakes off these darkening thoughts as he ties up the cute apron with an strawberry pattern one of his subscribers had so kindly sent to him with a note that read: "I've noticed you like the taste of strawberries, and I think you look as sweet as them. Makes for a great combination ★ "
If they only knew he was just some grouchy police officer entering his thirties per his coworker's kind words.
He sighed and put on a smile, all the things in his table ready. Even if they couldn't see it, he wanted his watchers to hear the smile in his voice, maybe it'll give them a little bit of joy.
Today's menu is some simple chocolate chip cookies, and it's a breeze for the experienced baker that Haru has become by growing up in the Kato household. He knows all the secrets to make their taste and texture perfect, and he doesn't even have to look in his notebook: he knows the measurements by heart.
As the cookies cool down, for his second dish, Haru makes the usual trip to the convenience store (because he rarely plans what he wants to make, as tradition for his channel that was born in the spur of a moment, thus he doesn't have the ingredients for today's recipe). As he is navigating the familiar aisles, something very soft bumps against his leg.
"Excuse me, sir!"
Haru looks down to find a little girl all embarrassed about having crashed into him. He gives her a reassuring smile that's genuine, because the little troublemaker is so cute and he wants to protect her from all upsetting things that exist in this adult's world.
"Don't worry. It happens to all of us," he says softly, crouching down to the girl's eye level, who now is curiously peering at him. She circles Haru like a tiny shark, and she attacks by hugging him from the side, closing her eyes and inhaling.
"Eh?!" Is all Haru can say to that.
What is this kid doing?
"You smell really good!" The little girl exclaims, stars lighting up in her eyes.
Haru tilts his head to the side, like a confused puppy, because that's a very weird thing to say. But kids are weird by nature and spontaneous as they come, so he just asks:
"Huh, really? What do I smell like?"
"Like warm cookies!" The girl declares, rounding Haru up and burying her nose in his back while hugging him. "You smell super sweet, big brother! Like a whole cookie jar! A big one!!"
"Ah, it must be because I just baked a batch of cookies. The smell really clings that much, huh…" Haru ponders out loud.
"And your hair is really fluffy!" The girl notes, patting Haru's head as if he was the child.
"There you are!" A woman in her mid thirties comes running from 10 o'clock, carrying her basket that sways from side to side. "Excuse me, young man! I lost sight of her for a second, I swear… Wait, Nana, what are you doing? Stop it!"
"It's okay," Haru laughs. "Please, go with your mom, please. It was nice to meet you, but she wants you back, doesn't she?"
"I want cookies!" Nana huffs. "Can we have some cookies?"
"Yes, we can buy cookies, I'll even let you pick. Just leave that poor young man's hair alone, okay?"
"But it's so soft! And I want fresh cookies!"
"You're asking for too much, there's no such thing around here…" The mom sounds so tired, the lines in her face giving away how hard her job is.
"He smells of cookies!" Nana insists, clinging to Haru.
The mom's eyes widen at that.
"I am sorry for my child invading your personal space!" The mom picks up her child in a frantic manner, paying no mind to her protests.
"Don't worry, it's okay," Haru gets up from his crouching position. Then, he whispers: "I don't live far from here, maybe I can get some cookies for your child… I made too many for myself, so it's no problem to me."
"Cookies!" The girl is thumping her mom's back with her tiny but mighty fists.
"I don't want to bother you any more…" The woman looks shy about her child's antics, not meeting Haru's eyes, her feet shuffling as she holds a squirming Nana in her arms
"It's okay, I don't mind, really…"
Little did the three of them know there was a fourth person watching from a distance that was craving the cookies, too. Daisuke was in passing and it was hard to ignore a squealing child: by instinct, all sensible humans placed their attention on loud children (don't ask Daisuke what was he doing in the same convenience shop where Haru accompanied him for the first grocery run of his life, though). So, he watched on as the scene unfolded until they left the store together looking like a family.
Why was it for Haru so easy to let strangers in?
Daisuke wondered this as he realized how daunting it was to come closer and invite himself to Haru's home in the shameless manner a little girl could.
And how easy it was for Haru to invite him over that time, how he didn't even think twice about it… and Daisuke remembered fondly their time together.
Maybe he should lose access to HEUSC again? Or not, because there is no way Haru is buying that, he'll see right through him, and Daisuke is not ready to reveal the extent of his feelings for the older detective... yet.