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Chikage swore to never be entangled in the feeling everyone knew as “love”.
A manifestation of emotions, love seized the heart by the strings, pulling and tugging at every corner whilst stirring awake the butterflies in one’s stomach. It flustered the soul, confused the brain, and awakened the heart with feelings incomprehensible to many, himself in particular.
Growing up, the boy believed that children were born and raised out of the goodness of their parents’ hearts. It was a form of love, his grandmother had told him; one that should also be directed towards oneself. At the time, he didn’t understand, for he was quite young.
At the age of 10, he found himself waiting at the front door for a father who would never return, and shortly after, suffering at the hands of a mother who neglected him in order to pursue other men. He knew youth was fleeting, but never would he have expected reality to hit him at such an early age.
Eventually, Chikage grew to accept that nothing good would ever come of such a complex thing. From the absence of his mother to the poor condition of the place in which he lived, nothing felt right anymore. This would go on for the next portion of his life, pouring over into his teenage years.
The apartment he lived in was left in a dilapidated state — especially the kitchen. Piles of dishes remained untouched in the sink, while the fridge was bare with no food to be found. He paid no attention to the creak of a door, taking it as a sign that his mother had just returned.
However, the loud clicking of high heels he expected was replaced with eerie silence. He averted his gaze from the television in front of him and saw his mother, but with a complete stranger. It wasn’t until a few moments later that he turned off the television and rose from the couch, only to mumble a half-hearted greeting before departing to the comfort of his room.
The drunken laughter that echoed down the small hallway reminded him to lock the door to his room as per usual, along with sliding his desk in front of it for safe measure. Men, especially while drunk, were scary creatures. It was a shame that the boy had to learn that from such a tender age.
Sometimes, he would ask that fate treat him a bit more kindly. On most occasions, it would seem that his words fell on deaf ears.
For now, the young boy told himself, the unsettling silence of his room would have to suffice. Perhaps one day, he would find a way to escape this life. He would gladly risk it all, too, even if he had to bargain with the devil himself.
There was nothing left for a child like him. After all, it seems that fate decided he would be his own family, and that his mother's affection was all but part of a vice, fed to him like a treat covered in the sweetest of honey. By the hands of the very people who brought him into this cruel world, the life he once treasured was shattered into pieces, while the feeling he once knew as "love" became nothing more than a fleeting memory.
“Chikage? Earth to Chikage...”
“...What?”
Izumi had to land a few gentle pokes to Chikage’s side for him to be pulled out of his thoughts. It seemed that he’d stood there for a while, given the numbness in the heels of his feet and the slight hint of dryness in his eyes.
“I asked if you managed to find anything that caught your eye,” Izumi asked, looking at the dress on display. “But you’ve been staring at the display case for a while…”
“Ah. I thought it looked familiar at first sight…” he excused, taking the time to stretch his arms above his head. His eyes scanned the article of clothing one last time before he tilted his head to look at Izumi, who held two shopping bags in one hand. “But I think I’ve been mistaken.”
Opposed to Izumi, Chikage chose to purchase nothing during their whole “shopping spree” — it was something that she raised an eyebrow at, and she went the extra mile to look around for anything that he could’ve hidden. As it turns out, he was indeed empty-handed.
“Are you sure you don’t want to get anything? It is your birthday,” Izumi considered scolding the man, but resorted to simply pouting. Maybe that would be enough to elicit some sort of change in him. “Plus, you were the one who agreed to this shopping trip! I’m paying, anyways.”
“Do you even have enough to cover my end of the expenses?” Chikage asked, gesturing to the bags in Izumi’s hand. “Assuming both of us are buying things, of course.”
Embarrassment flushed onto Izumi’s face as she quickly hid the two bags behind her back.
“In all fairness, I didn’t intend to buy anything. It’s just…” With a sigh, she gave up on defending herself and allowed her arms to hang by her side. “I couldn’t resist, okay? Jeez.”
“Yeah, yeah. No need to get upset,” Chikage laughed. “It’s surprising that you’d invite me to do something like this, though. You know I don’t shop around very often.”
“Which is why we’re here!” she clapped her hands together and started walking, pulling Chikage along with her. “I figured this would be a good change of pace, especially because you never treat yourself.”
“But I do,” he replied, walking side-by-side with the latter. The notion of buying unnecessary items for himself never appealed much to him. Other than purchasing spices and going to the occasional restaurant, there was no need for him to spend money on anything else. Besides the necessities one needs to live, that is. “Is there really any point in spoiling myself?”
“Of course there is. Besides,” Izumi paused for a brief moment, craning her neck around to search for their next destination. With no luck, the pair continued moving forward, walking alongside each other. “You seem to have fun “spoiling” everyone at Mankai with gifts. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
“Oh? And what does that have to do with anything?” asked Chikage as Izumi led them to a spice shop. He recognized it as one they’ve been to before, but he’d never taken the time to explore the place fully.
“If you have the energy to think for others, then you have the energy to think for yourself,” the latter chided, pointing a thumb at herself before continuing. “I’m paying, remember? So don’t be afraid to splurge a little.”
With that, she gave him a little push forward, in yet another attempt to get Chikage to enter the shop. He looked over his shoulder to see Izumi with a smile as bright as ever, nudging the small of his back yet again. Sighing, he turned around and crossed his hands in front of his chest.
“Fine. Since you’re so insistent, I’ll consider buying a few things.” Turning on his heel, he walked into the store without giving Izumi much time to react, and a gentle smile rested on his face when he noticed her catch up to him within a matter of seconds.
“I think you meant to say, you will buy a few things,” Izumi said. “But you know… It’s okay to be selfish for once in your life.”
He’d definitely heard something similar before, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Hearing those words leave Izumi’s lips startled Chikage, making him feel as if his chest was being constricted. Not knowing what else to do, he looked to Izumi, whose happy demeanor slowly wore off. A bitter smile remained on her face, like how that person looked before they parted ways for the last time.
“...I really hope you can accept that someday, Chikage.”
“The human mind is complicated, April,” laughed August, gently whacking April on the shoulder. “But it’s perfectly fine to think for yourself every once in a while.”
A gentle huff came from the younger of the two agents as he typed away on the keys of his laptop. It wasn’t much of a response, but it was enough for August. He’d grown accustomed to this behavior by now, but sometimes he felt like he was lecturing a child — a man-child, at that.
“I don’t know what you’re insinuating. Frankly, I think my feelings and emotions are in check,” April replied coldly, not looking away even once from the dim screen.
“You understand perfectly well what I’m trying to say,” he said, waving around the book in his hand. “I get that you have to keep up appearances on the job, but we’re on vacation. I don’t see why you can’t let loose. It’s like you’re trying to deprive yourself… or something along those lines.”
At that, April looked as if he’d been caught in the act. With anyone else, it’d be easy for him to talk his way out of these interrogation-type situations. When it came to August and December, it was harder for him to put up a stubborn front. In the end, he had to be honest with them. Things wouldn’t feel right otherwise.
“Why is this so important?” With the faint trace of a frown on his face, he stopped typing and set his laptop on the table in front of him. “What I do with myself doesn’t affect you two.”
“April. It’s not just about December and I. You’re part of the family too, aren’t you?” The latter of the two remained silent, causing a grin to form on August’s lips at the lack of response. “I won’t take “I don’t know” for an answer, but we’ve bickered enough for you to know that.”
Wearing a defeated expression, April slumped back on the couch. There wasn’t a point in arguing with the man any further, since it’d just result in his own loss. Instead, he picked up the lone bag of marshmallows next to him and flung it towards the door.
Coincidentally, a certain someone entered the room in his typical silence, catching the bag without thinking much of it.
“Well, look who’s here!” August chirped, sneaking a side glance at April before focusing some of his attention on the snow-haired man. “Welcome home, December.”
“...’M back.” December shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack, then took a seat between the two other agents. A man of few words, he began to munch on the marshmallows he’d been given, opting to respond by simply mumbling, and occasionally, a word or two.
Rustling the marshmallow bag, December cut their bickering short to hand a marshmallow August and one to April.
“Eat one. You two look like shit.”
“Why, you--” Just as April considered wringing the life out of his fellow agent, his thoughts were interrupted by the chuckling of the man at the other end of the couch, who waved the marshmallow around for him to see.
“I’m not interested,” April grimaced at the marshmallow sitting on December’s palm, staring at it with a great deal of disgust. “You know I don’t like sweets.”
“Eat it,” December yawned, still waiting for him to take the treat.
“Yeah, April! Go on and take it,” August snickered, chewing on another marshmallow. “You wouldn’t want to let it go to waste, would you?”
“One of you can eat it,” April muttered, eyes fluttering closed as he exhaled a tired sigh. “It’s not like that thing’s going to vanish to dust if I don’t.”
Grinning with mischief on his lips, August tapped the side of his head. “Hypothetically, that could happen. You never know.”
“With what logic?” April clicked his tongue and shook his head in resignation. “I swear, this is just another one of your attempts to ridicule me.”
“I would never. I’m simply speaking in defense of this sugary treat, April,” gasped August, clapping a hand over his own mouth to feign his own shock. “Still, how can you be so indifferent when it comes to wasting a delicacy as delicious as the marshmallow? Heresy, I tell you.”
“You’re too cruel, April,” December mumbled, only wanting to give August more leverage in the conversation.
“...This is clearly unfair,” April groaned, taking the sugary treat from the palm of December’s hand. “It’s two against one.”
“Hmm… Seems like a fair fight to me. What say you, December?”
“Fair matchup,” was his reply, spoken moments before he indulged himself with even more marshmallows. “He’s just tired of losing.”
“What the fuck.”
“Well, it was inevitable that things would turn out this way.” August extended a hand in April’s direction, feigned disappointment written all over his face. “At this point, I might as well eat it for you.”
April’s right eye twitched in irritation. While August’s offer sounded tempting enough, another part of him felt... rather spiteful, to say the least.
“How about… no,” he said, holding the fluffy marshmallow to his lips. “I don’t think I’m quite ready to lose yet.”
With that, he ate the marshmallow, barely holding back a wince at how overly sweet it was. It wasn’t as surprising as it should’ve been, however, given these were December’s marshmallows. His sweet tooth was definitely something inhuman, April noted, just as everything else about him is.
“You’re going to regret saying that,” August laughed at the look on the latter’s face, and motioned for December to hand over another marshmallow. “Now… treasure these next moments, for they might be your very last.”
Staring at the two sitting beside him, April didn’t bother to hold back a sigh of disappointment. He could’ve easily returned to his work, effectively putting an end to these shenanigans. Yet, the warmth he felt from hearing August’s annoying laughter and seeing the faint trace of a smile on December’s cheeks… It urged him to do otherwise.
With the semblance of a grin forming on his lips, April held out his hand towards the bag in December’s clutches. A small chuckle reverberated in his throat as the pillowy texture of the marshmallow met the skin of his palm, and he couldn’t help but smile a bit more before plopping yet another fluffy ‘mallow into his mouth.
“Tch. These are too sweet.” April rolled his eyes at the amused expressions on the others’ faces before following suit with a smile of his own. “Don’t you two ever get tired of these?”
“Nope,” the two replied in unison.
“Ah. Well, that figures.”
The sweetness of the marshmallows coated April’s mouth, and frankly, he wanted to stop right then and there. Perhaps it was due to his natural hatred for sweets that he became so intolerant to saccharine things, or maybe it was the amusement in his colleagues’ faces that drove him insane. Either way, it led him to turn down the next marshmallow without much of a second thought.
“I don’t like these games of yours,” he grumbled, retrieving his laptop from the table to continue his work. “At this point, they’re all poorly-prepared pranks. Ineffective, at that.”
“The look on your face says otherwise,” August teased. “Besides, it’s not often we all get to spend time together like this… not anymore. We might as well make good memories somehow.”
“At the expense of my sanity,” April added, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “Nevertheless, I suppose you do have a point there.”
“Man… If only I could stick around more often,” August murmured. “Sometimes I wonder if either of you ever take care of yourselves.”
His eyes locked onto April, who raised an eyebrow in plain confusion.
“Why are you looking at me? I take care of myself more than this sleepyhead ever will,” April scoffed, tilting his head in December’s direction. To no one’s surprise, he was still eating, even in a state of slumber. “If anything, he should be the one getting picked on right now.”
“There’s a difference between taking care of yourself and actually caring for yourself,” August said, drumming his fingers against the couch’s armrest. “There are people who still keep themselves in decent shape without actually giving a damn about what happens to them. Take yourself as an example.”
“What are you trying to get at, exactly?”
The bitter tone in April’s voice didn’t surprise August, who knew the agent all too well. Before answering, he reached into December’s bag and plopped another marshmallow in his mouth.
“From my observations, you’d sacrifice everything you’ve been given in order to protect those you love, to the point where you won’t even think about yourself, ” he responded, taking another brief moment to chew on the treat in his mouth. “Before acting recklessly for our sake, you have to understand that you matter to us as much as we do to you.”
“I don’t have any qualms against doing so.” April still refused to look away from his laptop screen, using his work as a means of avoiding August’s curious gaze. “I accept that it’s my duty to make sure you two are safe, so... it shouldn’t be that troublesome for me as you’re making it seem.”
“Here we go again. You speak as if what you’re doing is an obligation, but I think it’s something else entirely,” August sighed, propping his feet up on the table. “But as much as I want to interrogate you more, I’ll pause for today. Maybe we’ll get back to it at a later time.”
“You're acting more persistent than usual.” The clicking of laptop keys became quieter, with April’s typing slowing down as a result of having his attention redirected. “It’s like you’re a doting mother.”
“Hey. Be grateful that I’m not as brusque and uncaring as your other supervisors,” August said, yanking the now-empty bag of marshmallows from December’s arms. “What else can I say, though? Like I said before, I love and care for you guys a lot. I can’t help but act like a mother when it comes to you two.”
“ Love, you say?” April allowed his weight to sink into the backrest of the couch, and stared up at the ceiling in a moment of contemplation. Maybe he’d allow himself to open up a bit more… Just this once.
“I mean, it makes enough sense for it to work that way,” said the other, shrugging his shoulders. “Don’t you agree?”
“...Well, I can’t say I don’t share the sentiment.”
The walk back to the dorms was filled with silence for the most part, given that the point where they left off wasn’t exactly the most cheerful. On the bright side, Chikage managed to gather two bags’ worth of spices and spice-related things, while Izumi resigned herself to buying nothing more after their last conversation.
“Love,” Chikage said, breaking the silence, “is something I still struggle to understand.”
That’s one way to break the silence, he thought to himself. If not for the poor timing of his words, maybe the man would’ve been more confident in that — the fact she still hadn’t said anything shouldn’t have worried him, but here he was, wallowing in the awkward silence caused by a statement that was uncalled for.
“...I guess that makes sense,” Izumi commented, nestling her chin between her thumb and pointer finger. “From what I’ve seen, though, it seems you’ve come a long way because of it.”
“How so?”
“Hmm… Well, over the years, it seems like you’ve grown a soft spot for everyone at Mankai. Especially me.” Izumi couldn’t hold back a laugh at the last part, and her smile only grew wider at seeing a faint blush appear on Chikage’s face. “And if I’m not mistaken, these days there’s this… warmth in your eyes. It’s like you’re a happier person now.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Chikage chuckled, taking a mental note to look at himself in the mirror later. “They say that eyes are the window to the soul.”
“Getting all philosophical, are we?” Izumi quipped, releasing a sigh. “I think you’re more than capable enough of understanding what love is.”
At that, Chikage said nothing. His eyes gazed off into the distance as if he was deep in thought, but the occasional fidgeting of his right hand said otherwise. Eventually, his lips parted to speak, only for him to avoid the current conversation completely.
“...Let’s move on to a different topic,” he said, feigning indifference. “This conversation is going nowhere.”
To Izumi, Chikage appeared as if the conversation they had never registered in that stubborn brain of his.
“Hey, we both know that’s a lie. Come on, be honest with yourself,” Izumi pleaded, elbowing him once. Twice. She would’ve done it a third time, too, had the latter not returned the gesture. He was being surprisingly gentle, she noted, but it made sense. This was one of those rare moments where he was most vulnerable, where his emotions weren’t walled off for once. From how things looked so far, Chikage probably knew it, too. “You say you don’t understand what love is, yet the one thing that’s brought you this far is exactly that!”
“How would you know?” The secret agent responded with a hint of frustration in his tone and stopped walking. "As far as I’m concerned, we’ve only known each other for how long? A year? That’s not nearly enough time to piece together anything-”
“Because I’ve seen it with my own eyes…!” Izumi spun around in an instant and stood in front of Chikage, directly meeting his gaze with her own. “You, a person who lived without a shred of trust for anyone but Hisoka and August, opened up to a theater troupe, of all things. When you first joined Mankai, the only word I could use to accurately describe you was “broken”. You locked your feelings in some sort of cage because you thought it’d fix everything, right? Can’t you see that it’s done the exact opposite?”
Nearly out of breath, she sucked in a deep breath in between sentences, refusing to look away for even a fraction of a second.
“It’s okay to open up to people, Chikage. Just because you care for us doesn’t mean you’re suddenly useless or weak or… or anything like that.”
Chikage, left speechless, looked down at Izumi as she rambled at him with the utmost passion. He’d never seen her get this riled up over something he considered to be trivial, especially because she had more to worry about than his personal problems. Yet, she didn’t seem to care about that aspect of their conversation, seeing as she showed no signs of backing out just yet.
“The problem isn’t your lack of insight on what love is. It’s your own uncertainty that’s messing with you,” she continued, concern written all over her face. “You’re afraid what the future will hold if you get too close to anyone, right?”
“Of course I am. I’ve been taking measures to make sure all of you are safe, but… if I overlook something, one of you might get hurt,” he grumbled, averting his gaze from Izumi’s eyes. “And I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”
“If what you’re saying is true, then why do you still choose to remain here?” Izumi asked, jabbing a finger against the center of the latter’s chest. “The reason isn't because of the Organization, obligation, or whatever excuse you have in mind this time around. It's because you're able to be yourself when you're with us, whether it's onstage or offstage. It's because you genuinely enjoy the memories you've made with us thus far. Most importantly, it's because you care. You're willing to put your entire life on the line to prevent all of that from slipping away... That’s what love is, Chikage.”
At long last, the pieces finally clicked together in Chikage’s head, and he must’ve shown it all too well, seeing that Izumi’s frustration was slowly fading away. She took a step back to finally allow him his personal space, offering up a gentle grin in hopes that it would soften the mood somehow.
“If I’m not wrong, I think my endless ranting finally knocked some sense through that thick skull of yours,” Izumi huffed in triumph, arms relaxedly crossed in front of her chest. “Since you look content with yourself now, let me ask this: What is love to you? ”
“Love…”
Letting the word roll off his tongue a few times, Chikage began to recall the warmth he felt when relaxing in the company of Hisoka and August on days where their breaks overlapped; the times they spent together baking gingerbread in the comfort of their hideout. The word “love” meant so much more than just those two, though. Love was what he felt when Mankai Company welcomed him into their family with open arms, giving him new memories from performing with his fellow actors to sleeping onstage with the members of Spring Troupe. Around them, he was able to find a joy that he never felt before.
He recalled the time Masumi asked him a similar question, to which he gave a vaguely-worded response. “Love is, surely, something that can never be lost,” was what he’d told the boy, despite not understanding what it really was at the time. Now that he thought about it, he began to wonder if he could’ve offered up a better response. At the same time, when he reminded himself of the memories he made with August, Hisoka, and everyone at Mankai, he realized one thing.
Maybe, just maybe, he was heading in the right direction this whole time.
Chikage met Izumi’s expectant gaze and saw an unmistakable fondness in the way she looked at him, bringing some warmth to his fragile heart. In the spur of the moment, he returned the gesture, letting the corners of his mouth pull upwards to form one of his rare, genuine smiles.
“To me, love is…”
“Come to think of it, why didn’t we invite the rest of Spring Troupe to come with us?” Chikage asked, waiting patiently for Izumi to unlock the entrance to the dorms.
“I feel like you already know the answer to that,” Izumi laughed. “They did make it somewhat obvious this morning.”
“So you do know me more than I initially thought.”
“Did I not make that clear earlier?” She raised an eyebrow and clicked her tongue at the offhand comment. “You know, I don’t think I’d have a problem with repeating every single word I said.”
“Wait, I don’t think that’s necessary,” was Chikage’s reply, with a nervous laugh following suit. “I think you’ve done a lot for one day, no?”
“You’re only saying that because I made a few good points.” Izumi flashed a wide grin before leading Chikage into the next room. Unlike what she was told, the lights were still on in the common room and the kitchen, where they spotted the rest of Spring Troupe working on what seemed to be...
“I see they’ve kept themselves occupied by learning how to bake,” Chikage said aloud, not bothering to lower his voice. He spoke at a volume at which the others could hear him loud and clear, catching those who were in the kitchen by surprise. With a single whiff of air, he instantly recognized the smell of freshly baked cake… and the faint trace of burnt pastries, as well.
“H-Happy birthday?” Not knowing what else to do, Izumi stuck her hands up and out, and waved them around a bit to try and make things a little less awkward. After a few moments of silence, she realized that she ended up doing the exact opposite.
As Chikage made his way across the common room to the kitchen, Izumi followed him, and the two watched as the other Spring Troupe actors tried to cover up the tray of burnt cookies resting next to the sink.
“We might’ve messed up with the cookies a few times,” Sakuya nervously rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at the cake behind him. “If we hadn’t, the cake would’ve been fully decorated in time. Sorry about that…”
Hands folded behind his back, Chikage stepped forward to observe the cake. It was mostly decorated, covered in a uniform layer of white frosting and topped with a circle of strawberries. The only things that were missing were the dollops of frosting that sat between each of the strawberries, as well as an undecorated center. He stood in front of the cake and quietly hummed to himself as he thought up ideas in his head; soon enough, he let out a quiet ah! as one particular idea caught his attention.
“May I try my hand at decorating it?” He proposed, eyes lit with the faintest of mischief. “I think I have an idea of what I want this cake to look like.”
“This is a bad idea,” Tsuzuru muttered, noticing the latter’s sudden change in demeanor. “He’s definitely planning something.”
“Now you’re worrying too much,” Izumi said, trying to reassure him. “Besides, how bad can things get?”
The playwright could only respond with a groan before leaning back in his chair. Begrudgingly, he continued to wait for the kitchen timer to go off, but not without keeping a careful eye on the green-haired man.
“Sure! It’s your birthday, so it’s only fair that we let you decorate it.” Sakuya stepped aside for the birthday boy man to work his magic on the cake, and placed the piping bag on the kitchen counter for him to use. Looking over to check on Masumi, he hollered out: “Masumi! Could you help me wash the cookware?”
“Mm... Coming,” Masumi mumbled, tucking his phone into his back pocket before putting on one of the spare aprons.
“How’s the whipped cream going?” Sakuya asked, slipping on a pair of rubber gloves. “Is it done yet?”
“Oh, no! I completely forgot,” Citron exclaimed, running over to the bowl of unwhisked heavy cream. “I will get started right now!”
“Thank you,” Chikage smiled at seeing the hustle and bustle in the kitchen. Though he wasn’t one to be fond of loud places, he could make an exception for once. It was quite a joyous time, despite that he’d already anticipated this surprise of theirs. “I’ll be using a special type of frosting, if no one minds. My aunt made the best cakes with it, and I think it’d make a great touch to this one right here.”
“You don’t say…” Tsuzuru eyed the man warily, not trusting the smile on his face.
Before Chikage was given any sign of affirmation, he’d already made his way to the opposite end of the kitchen, rummaging through one cabinet in particular.
“Senpai, isn’t that the spice cabinet-”
“Ah, there it is! Just what I was looking for,” the bespectacled man announced rather loudly, holding up a bottle filled to the brim with a fiery-red liquid. “Here’s the special frosting I was talking about.”
He presented the bottle to everyone as he paraded back to his place in front of the undecorated cake. The giant illustration of a red flame under the words “X-TREME Ghost Pepper Sauce” could be seen for a quick moment as he twirled the bottle around to hold it as if it were a piping bag.
“You’re holding a bottle of hot sauce, for crying out loud!” Tsuzuru yelled, nearly knocking over his own chair as he stood up. Wasting no time, he made an attempt at pulling Chikage away from the birthday cake, wrapping both of his arms as tightly as he could around the other’s arm. Unfortunately for him, however, the spice lover didn’t budge an inch. Instead, all he got out of trying to do so was a teasing laugh from the man.
“I can see that,” Chikage responded, wearing an upturned smile as he watched Tsuzuru give up. Directing all his attention back to the birthday cake, he gently tapped his chin with a finger and ran his eyes over the pastry one last time. “Now, how do you all think I should decorate this cake?”
“Ooh! I say we add a few red peppers on top and add curry roux clocks! Then, we can put this whipped cream right on top-”
“Blocks, Citron,” Itaru mumbled, tapping away at his mobile game from the comfort of his seat. “But that’s even worse than what he’s doing right now…”
“How about you use some real frosting,” Tsuzuru sighed, knowing he could do nothing but watch in horror as Chikage pondered over how he would decorate the cake.
“What do you mean?” Chikage replied, a small grin on his face. “A lot of delicacies taste great with hot sauce, so I don’t see why a cake would be an exception.”
“With how spicy that hot sauce probably is, I don’t think we’ll be able to taste the cake at all,” Sakuya said, scrubbing away at the dishes.
“You’re going to give him ideas-”
“We won’t be able to taste anything at all~” Citron sang as he started to whisk away at the heavy cream. "Sounds very fun!"
“That’s the goal,” laughed Chikage, letting the bottle of hot sauce hang by his side. “Sweets are best enjoyed when you can’t taste them at all.”
“You can’t be serious right now.”
“You’re right. I need to pull myself together, don’t I? There are others who are going to eat this cake, so... I guess I’ll have to save the hot sauce for another day.” Chikage rested the bottle of hot sauce on the kitchen counter, picking up the piping bag in its place. To everyone’s surprise, he wasted no time in filling in the gaps between the strawberries. Each dollop of frosting looked identical to the one before it, and he’d gone through all of them in a matter of seconds. When finished, he stepped to the side to show off his handiwork. “Voilà.”
“That was fast, Chikage!” Sakuya gasped, eyes twinkling at the extra addition he made. “It looks great!”
“He’s being a cheat character, as always…”
Chikage laughed at Itaru’s comment and grabbed the bottle of hot sauce. With the cap still on, he gave the bottle a few playful squeezes, effectively frightening the others.
“I guess we won’t have any use for this anymore,” he muttered, twirling the bottle around. In that brief moment, he looked over to the undecorated area in the center of the cake, and the glint of mischief everyone feared to see reappeared in his eyes. “Unless…?”
The various looks of disappointment he got from that managed to draw a genuine laugh from his lips, curled up into a smile that radiated with a warmth he’d rarely shown anyone, if at all.
“I’m just saying, it couldn’t possibly hurt for me to put a few decorative splashes of hot sauce on here,” he continued, hovering ever so closely above the cake with his bottle of hot sauce in hand. “I’m confident all of you will absolutely love it.”
“Ooh! Chikage is creating art,” Citron gasped, whisking the whipped cream at an even faster pace.
“Don’t you dare,” Tsuzuru shouted, rushing over to the cake with the tray of freshly baked cookies. “And Citron, you’re going to ruin it if you keep whisking like that-”
The playwright looked around to see that Sakuya and Masumi were still washing the dirtied baking equipment, while Citron stood right next to Chikage just to witness the birthday celebrant’s reign of terror firsthand, to Tsuzuru’s disappointment. In the back of the kitchen, Izumi couldn’t help but sputter out a laugh at knowing what was going to happen next, watching as Chikage uncapped the bottle of hot sauce.
“Now, where should I start…”
“CHIKAGE, NO!!” Everyone yelled in unison.
Tsuzuru yelped as he stumbled on his own two feet, causing the tray to slip out of his grasp. The only batch of perfectly baked cookies were about to meet their demise, along with the birthday cake, whose fate rested in the hands of none other than Chikage.
Itaru sighed as he witnessed the chaos unfold before his very eyes, relaxing into his chair as the frightful anticipation left his body.
“It’s all over… GG.”
"For some reason, I feel relieved when people remember my birthday. It’s… a pleasant feeling,” Chikage whispered. The man leaned on the balustrade right outside of his room, looking at the bright moon above with a parting smile. “Thank you for everything, August. I used to live out of spite, out of hatred for the world, but… it’s different now.”
The moonlight shined on his face as he outstretched his hand towards the moon, like it could somehow bring him closer to August. Of course, he knew that would never be the case, for August’s life had expired long ago.
“I’ll protect everyone while enjoying this life to the fullest, just as you wished for. This might sound like another half-baked lie of mine, but… it’s not.” From his pocket, Chikage pulled out a candy wrapper, letting his eyes take in the words he’d written on it a few years back. “This time, it’s a promise.”
With a final sigh, he turned around to make his way back to the kitchen, feeling that it was about time he returned to finally celebrate his birthday with the others. A gentle breeze rustled his hair just as he reached the door to the kitchen, and a knowing smile crept onto his face as he heard a familiar voice call out to him.
“Happy birthday, Chikage.”
“I think this might’ve been the best birthday celebration I’ve had so far,” Chikage said, taking a spoonful of hot sauce into his mouth. “This cake tastes great, by the way.”
“You’re not even eating the cake, though?! All you’re doing is eating the hot sauce off of the frosting!” Tsuzuru chided. The frustration in his voice reflected in the way he cut through his slice of cake, attempting to avoid areas that contained even the smallest speck of hot sauce. “I knew we shouldn’t have let him do anything…”
“Yeah, but I don’t think we’ve ever seen him this happy,” Itaru spoke in between bites. “Sure, he wears a smile on his face when he needs to. This time, the way he’s talking to us feels more... natural, I guess? IDK.”
“Mhm! I’ve always noticed you hold yourself back when everyone else’s having fun,” Sakuya pointed out, leaning forward as he spoke. “It feels like you’re afraid of enjoying yourself… You shouldn’t be, though!”
“A six-man circus is not a six-man circus without its sixth member!” Citron shot up from his seat and clapped his hands together.
“How are we a circus? The only clowns here are you and that spice-lover over there,” Tsuzuru groaned, dragging his hands down his face with an exasperated sigh. “I agree with the rest of them, though. You’re great when it comes to acting, but it feels like you’re acting outside of rehearsals sometimes.”
“Well! They’re onto something,” Izumi commented before taking another carefree bite out of her slice of cake, being the only one to not be fazed by the searing taste of hot sauce. “I think we can all agree that it’d be nice to see you like this more often. Think of it as a nice change of pace.”
“Hmm…” To everyone’s surprise, Chikage took his first bite of the actual cake, and reacted with no signs of disgust whatsoever. In fact, he merely gave everyone a smile that carried a foreign warmth. In his chest, he could feel something uncoil, like he’d finally been freed from the tangled strings that once violently tugged at his heart. “When you put it that way, who am I to say no?”
Once restrained by the uncertainty and fear that came with love, he felt it blossom in his heart this time, gently guiding him towards the warm, welcoming embrace of the people who’d welcomed him as a member of their everlasting family.
Finally, at long last, Chikage found a place he could come home to, day in and day out.
“...At this point, I don’t think I want to keep running away — not from the family I love so dearly.”