Chapter Text
Rindō plinked a sprig of mint into her mortar, mashing it into the existing brown-green powder.
“I hope you know my girlfriend isn’t coming to our dorm thanks to your ‘extracurriculars,’” Momo said, cradling Bucchi a bit too tight and throwing a sidelong glance at the cauldron.
“No kidding?” Rindō chuckled. “I thought it’d take more than a few potions to burn the ice princess.”
Momo sighed dramatically. “The nights grow cold without my sweet…”
Rindō finished grinding and scooped the blend into her cauldron, the foggy liquid splashing and the bubbles simmering down. “I brew on a mostly consistent schedule. Can’t Erina just come when I’m not working?”
“It’s more about the energy your creations taint the place with…” she mumbled. “And the smell…”
“What was that?” she asked, the sound of the bubbling having ramped back up.
Momo hmph’ed and turned to look out the windows. Rindō followed her gaze. It was a clear night, crescent moon, few clouds.
“Why don’t you two hang out in her dorm, then?” she asked.
“Hisako’s always hovering around and making the ‘I’m watching you’ gesture at me.”
She frowned, throwing in a pinch of chili pepper and stirring. “That does sound like her…”
“Hey,” Momo started, jumping up and grabbing the hem of Rindō’s shirt, “why not put it on pause? Midterms are this week, shouldn’t you be preparing?”
Her frown turned to a wicked grin. “Midterms are exactly why I can’t stop—I’m making a killing on study-aid potions. I’ll be able to buy Tsukasa the best present ever for our anniversary.”
Momo dropped her shirt and fell back on the bed. “Oh. It has almost been a year, hasn’t it? What’re you getting him?”
Rindō rubbed her chin with the same hand holding the ladle, which now dripped potion onto the gray cobblestone floor. “I haven’t really thought about it yet.”
Momo buried her face in her pillow and groaned.
After a few more seasonings and a bit more boiling, the batch was ready. Rindō lifted the cauldron off the portable stove placed between their beds and carried it to the kitchenette, setting it on the counter and grabbing 24 glass vials from the cabinet. One by one she filled them three-quarters with the pale pink mixture, plopped in a rosemary flower, corked the opening, and tied a red ribbon around the neck. After carefully stacking them face-down in a wooden crate, she slotted them into the fridge while calling behind her, “I’ll be back to run these down to the shop tonight.”
“Oh?” Momo finally popped her head up from the pillow. “Where are you off to?”
Rindō shrugged. “To stir up some trouble.” With that, she climbed her headboard, opened the windows, and stepped out onto the scaffolding.
Tsukasa reached the end of Dr. Shiomi’s article on branched-chain amino acids and rolled his neck, taking a swig of blood from his wine glass.
“You know, ever since my boyfriend found out you’re a vampire, he keeps asking to hang out at our dorm,” Saitō said.
“He just clued in? Why did he think I charge blood donations for the price of admission?”
“Experimenting with blood sausage, dinuguang, sanquette, things of that sort.”
“I see… He knows those are traditionally made with animal blood, doesn’t he?” Tsukasa asked with a hint of nervous laughter.
“He figured you had a patended method to make human blood safe for consumption, that that’s why you were so tight-lipped about the whole thing.”
“Keeping quiet about the vampire business was one of Dean Nakiri’s provisions for opening a restuarant on campus, but I always thought it was an open secret…”
“It is.” Saitō flipped to the next page of his mystery novel, Murder on the S.S. Anne, and settled his chin on his palm. “But Sōma’s mind doesn’t work like most.”
Tsukasa opened a search engine: synthesis of nitrogenous compounds. “So, why’s he want to stop by?”
“He has a dozen questions about the whole vampire thing. Mostly about how it intersects with your diet and how you incorporate such a rare ingredient into your cooking.”
Tsukasa hung his head. “Is that so…”
Right when he was about to get into the next article, there was a tiny, soft thudding at the window.
“Mind letting her in?” Tsukasa asked.
Saitō picked up the sword on his headboard and jammed the tip through the handle, swinging open the left window.
A red long-haired cat with gold eyes jumped in, hopping from nightstand to bed to desk, immediately stretching out over Tsukasa’s keyboard.
“Rindō…” he groaned, trying to navigate back to his page with the mouse, but the cat stood up and blocked the screen. He craned his neck to see behind her, but soon after found his mouse dragged away by fuzzy little mittens. Saitō remained silent, but there was a small smile on his face.
Tsukasa sighed and opened up one of his desk drawers, pulling out a paperback with colored tabs protruding in meticulous fashion—Nutritional Science for the Modern Chef. “It’s just as well. My eyes need a break from staring at screens.”
As soon as he opened the book though, Rindō dove onto the pages.
“Compromise,” Tsukasa said, staring down at her.
Rindō tilted her head and meowed inquisitively.
“You let me read my book, and I’ll scratch your ears while I do.”
Rindō meowed again, at a higher pitch.
“…And rub your belly.”
Rindō rolled off the pages and into his lap, making a quick biscuit while Tsukasa produced a highlighter.