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In the end, a whole year passed by. A whole year of eating food together with Kasuga, of contemplating on the relationship that they were slowly building, and of not saying or doing anything about it.
"Really?" Sayama said over lunch one day. "I mean, everything you say about her sounds like you're in love, right?"
Nomoto's cheeks tinged pink. "Ah, I suppose so?"
"You suppose?" Sayama asked, hastily swallowing a bite of the chicken karaage she'd brought with her that day. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, I'm not used to love," Nomoto explained. "I've been coming to terms with it over the last year, but still, if I had to put into words what I feel when I'm around my neighbour, the one that describes everything best is warm."
"Warm, huh?" Sayama repeated.
"Yeah," Nomoto agreed. "Like, everything is cozy and right, and things just make sense, as if they were always supposed to be this way. Looking online, other stories that I've read about sound much more… head-over-heels, I suppose, when they talk about love. So I've still not quite figured out if love is quite right for this situation too, but even still, I can say warmth."
"Aaaaaah," Sayama took a sip from her coffee cup and smiled. "But you know, there are as many forms of love in the world as there are people. Perhaps the ones you are drawn to online are more bombastic, but that doesn't make yours any less genuine for it."
"Do you think so?" Nomoto asked.
Sayama smiled. "Absolutely. Aaaaaah. Your way of describing it sounds so pure, so innocent. I love it every time!" She sighed, then brandished a finger at Nomoto. "But you really should make a move sometime, you know. This neighbour of yours won't know how you're feeling unless you tell her."
"I know," Nomoto replied. "It's just… what if it changes everything?"
"Well, that's always going to be an issue," Sayama allowed, "but without that communication, one day she might decide to try or find something else because she thinks that you're not interested. Or she may fear that you'll do the same. If you talk about it, at least you'll both know. And you can figure out what happens next from there."
"I suppose," Nomoto sighed. "I just… I don't even know where or how to begin."
"Well… Christmas is coming up," Sayama pointed out. "A Christmas confession would be highly romantic. And there are a lot of special Christmas foods, right? So you could probably even tie it in nicely with what you already do. Just… consider it, okay?"
Nomoto frowned. "I will. No promises, but I will consider it at least."
Sayama grinned. "Good. I'll be cheering for you. And I want to hear all about it when it happens."
"Of course," Nomoto replied. "I'll make sure you're the first to know everything."
It had been easy to fall into a warm routine with Kasuga. So easy, in fact, that Nomoto barely realized what she was feeling until it was far too late to change course.
It wasn't just Kasuga's appetite, though Nomoto knew she could just watch Kasuga eat all day long. It wasn't just Kasuga's willingness to help, going out of her way to assist Nomoto during the worst of her periods and whenever she's sick, even if that filled Nomoto with a warm sort of gratefulness that she also wasn't used to. It wasn't just Kasuga's strong assuredness and constant insistence on fairness either, even though she appreciated how Kasuga could be as gentle and firm as a large water-worn rock. It was all of these things combined, and so much more.
It was a road of uncertainty and epiphany, of everything and nothing changing, in the same way that a new job or new home could change one's identity in subtle but deeply reverberating ways. And yet it was a trip fully downhill: one that felt simply like gravity, like she was accepting an inevitability or a universal truth.
And Nomoto knew that Sayama was right: that as good as everything was right now, what they had wasn't sustainable; that sooner or later, something was going to change. And at least, if she made a move, she could attempt to direct the flow in which that change could take. And at worst, well, the feelings in her chest would end up being aired, and she and Kasuga could move forward on more equal and honest footing. The only question was, how to do it.
The answer came to her that night, while she was putting away dishes. Her eye caught on her loaf pan, and in her mind were Kasuga's words from the year before.
"Let's make this before Christmas next year. I'd like to try making stollen pound cake with you."
And so, she whipped out her phone and typed out a message.
Kasuga-san, last year you said you might like to make stollen pound cake with me. Are you still interested?
The reply, as usual, was near-instantaneous.
I would love that. Please let me know when would work for you.
How about Sunday afternoon? She asked. I'll make sure to have everything ready for then. And then dinner after?
Sunday afternoon and dinner will be fine. I'll look forward to seeing you then.
And that was that.
Nomoto went through her notes to find the recipe she'd saved, so she could determine what ingredients she'd need to get in for this feat. It was such an easy recipe, really; hardly needing two people in the kitchen. But all going well, she hoped, it would be a good way to break the ice. And that made it worth its weight in gold.
"Did you overbuy, Nomoto-san?"
Nomoto did her best not to make her laugh too nervous as she watched Kasuga take in the ingredients she'd laid out.
"Not exactly," Nomoto replied. "Or, well, sort of. More like… I couldn't decide if I wanted to use last year's recipe, or try something sliiiiightly more authentic, so I ended up buying for both and a second loaf pan so they could be in the oven together, and, well, here we are."
"Ah," Kasuga replied. "Are we making two different recipes, then?"
"Yes, I was thinking so," Nomoto replied. She opened a kitchen cupboard, and retrieved two large mixing bowls, placing them side by side on the counter.
"This one will be the same as last year, using pound cake mix and nuts and berries that we'll chop and soak today. While this one we'll make the pound cake from scratch, and use the things I've had soaking in the fridge for a few days. Neither will be too authentic, even still, but it's nice to experiment with different variations to see what you like most, I think. Oh—and this way if you do want to have a little more, then we can choose our favourite and have that one for savouring, while the other can be for eating, okay?"
Kasuga gave her a beautifully warm, serious smile.
"Yes. I think that sounds just fine."
"Well, then, if you wouldn't mind starting with chopping these up…"
"Of course."
Nomoto stated on the pound cake recipe, creaming butter and sugar together while Kasuga gave the dried fruit a rough chop and set it into a bowl with some rum, and then began on the nuts next.
"Do these look okay?" Katsuga asked after a few minutes, as Nomoto was sifting the dry ingredients together, and Nomoto put down her sieve so she could look over.
"Yes, that looks lovely!" She said. "I don't suppose you'd mind working on the marzipan next?"
"Marzipan…?" Kasuga repeated.
"Ah—it's mainly just a paste of almond and powdered sugar. I can get the ingredients together, but it takes a little bit of time to mix and knead into a cohesive whole."
"And this is for the stollen?" Kasuga checked.
"Yes," Nomoto agreed. "A lot of people put marzipan into their stollen pound cakes, so I thought we'd try too today. Ah—though actually it's also completely safe to use and eat raw, so you can try a bit too, if you like, when we're done!"
Kasuga nodded. "Very well. I'd be glad to mix and knead it for you."
"Great."
And this, too, felt warm: working alongside Kasuga in the kitchen, feeling the very welcome presence by her side. And if she nearly spilled some of the dry ingredients because she was watching Kasuga trying to take the marzipan from sticky mess into cohesive paste, well… she certainly had no regrets.
The pound cake batter was ready about the same time as the marzipan, and then it was just a matter of following the directions on the pound cake mix, pulling the longer-soaking fruits out of the fridge, and assembling the cakes to go in the oven.
She saved a little bit of the marzipan for them to sample, and rolled the rest into a log to go into the handmade dough. Then, after mixing nuts and the appropriate dried fruit into each, she put them both in loaf pans, and into the oven. And with all that done, she turned to Kasuga.
"I was thinking we could start working on dinner while they're baking. And to stick to the German theme, how do hamburger steaks sound?"
Kasuga nodded. "Hambagu sounds just fine. If you like, I could prepare the rice and wash up while you make the patties?"
Nomoto could have declared her love for Kasuga right then and there.
The next while passed in comfort, sometimes in silence while they concentrated on their respective tasks, and sometimes filling the time with light conversation about nothing in particular. And oh, it was so easy to imagine a future in which spending time like this was a given every day, rather than a few times a week.
Kasuga must have noticed something, because she had stopped where she'd been drying the cutting board, and was looking concernedly at her.
"You look a little red, Nomoto-san. You don't have a fever, do you?"
"Ah, no," Nomoto replied. She probably would have buried her face in her hands if they weren't covered in raw meat. But as it was, she could just give Kasuga a sheepish smile. "I was just thinking of something nice, is all."
"I see," Kasuga replied. "Would you like to talk about it?"
"Yeesss…" Nomoto admitted, "but… maybe not quite yet. Maybe after dinner, if you don't mind."
"So long as you're really all right."
"I am," Nomoto promised. "In fact, once these patties are ready to rest, and we're done with this round of cleaning up, we can even rest too and try the marzipan, okay?"
Kasuga nodded. "That sounds like a wise plan."
She made them both mugs of tea (after thoroughly washing her hands and helping put away the last of the dishes), and they drank them together at their usual places around the dining table. It was cute, watching Kasuga examine the ball of marzipan, and roll it once more between her fingers.
"It's hard to believe that it's the same sticky mess from easier, isn't it?" Nomoto asked, and Kasuga nodded.
"It feels so different once it's done combining."
"Most things do," Nomoto replied. "In fact, there are some doughs that you're specifically advised against adding more flour to while kneading, even though they're sticky as anything, because over time the gluten will activate and help it all come together nicely."
"And you're sure that this is okay to eat raw?" Kasuga asked.
"Definitely," Nomoto replied. "In fact, there are cakes that you cover with marzipan after baking, like Battenberg cakes. I'll have to make you one sometime."
"Please do," Kasuga replied. "But for now…"
She popped the ball into her mouth and slowly chewed, her face becoming one of bliss as the marzipan melted on her tongue.
"It's sweet."
"Isn't it?" Nomoto agreed. "Not surprising, given that it's mainly almond and sugar, but they taste good together, don't they?"
"Very much so," Kasuga replied.
Nomoto was saved from thinking about what it would be like to feed Kasuga such treats every day by the sound of the oven timer dinging.
"Well, that's my cue…"
She tested the cakes for doneness, then set them on a wire rack to cool. And while they rested, she set about making dinner; grilling vegetables and frying the patties before making a pan sauce with the drippings, and arranging it all over a bed of rice.
Kasuga was as enthusiastic as always, savouring every last bite of the large portion that Nomoto had prepared for her. And if there were some slight butterflies in Nomoto's stomach as she observed, well, it only took a few light prods from her neighbour for her to remember to eat her own food too.
And then, all there was left to do was to make a fresh batch of tea—an Earl Grey blend this time—and cut small slices of each cake, laying them out side by side on two identical plates, which she served with the beautiful little dessert forks that she'd also bought for the occasion.
"Let me know what you think of each one," Nomoto said as she served them, and Kasuga gave a grave nod as she reached for her fork.
"I'll start with the new one, then," she said. And, cutting off a small-for-her bite, she chewed it carefully, a considering look on her face. She followed it up with a second, equally serious bite, before repeating the process with the stollen pound cake made with the past year's recipe. And then, she took a sip of her tea.
"Well?" Nomoto asked.
"They're both very good," Kasuga said. "And if given either, I'd certainly enjoy them both. But…" she frowned.
"But?" Nomoto repeated.
"Is it odd for me to say that I like the box mix one best?"
"Not at all!" Nomoto replied. "Box mixes are there for a reason, and generally do their job quite well. But can I ask why? Is it the moisture level? The lack of marzipan? The fact that it's a little less boozy?"
"Not exactly," Kasuga explained. She took another sip of her tea, and if Nomoto's eyes weren't deceiving her, there was a dusting of pink on her neighbour's cheeks.
"Why, then?"
Kazuga put down her now-empty mug, and looked down at her plate. "The box mix one tastes like last year, and reminds me of the good times we had. And while I'm sure that I could make happy memories with the other one too, I like the ones that we have with this one already."
"Ah," Nomoto replied. She did cover her face with her hands this time, now that they weren't covered in raw meat, and she took a deep, centering breath or two before admitting, "that… actually ties in with what I was thinking about earlier, come to think of it."
"Does it?" Kasuga asked. "When you were looking very flushed."
"Yes," Nomoto replied, "and I'm afraid I probably look that way now, too, but…." She forced herself to lower her hands, red faced and all, and look her neighbour in the eye as best she could. "Last year, you said you'd like it if we could make stollen pound cake together this year, and I'm glad we did. But what I'd like, even more than this, is to make stollen together with you next year. And the year after that. And for as many more years to come as we have. And to bake and cook and eat together throughout the year, too. Not just as we're doing, but every day. I want to wake up with you and cook breakfast together, and make bento that are sometimes too cute to eat, and cook dinners that will satisfy you, and watch you enjoy my good food every night. In short… I—I think I want to live a life with you, Kasuga-san. And… I'm sorry if you find this weird, or if I've at all ruined the stollen, but I… I just wanted to lay that out, I suppose. And let you know what I think."
And with that, she stuffed a large bite of stollen in her mouth. It was sweet, and full of marzipan, and she could feel it melting on her tongue.
Kasuga looked at her, her face as serious as always, even as Nomoto stuffed her face with stollen, and eventually bowed her head and took a breath of her own.
"I think I would like that too, Nomoto-san; to live a life with you. I don't necessarily want you to be a housewife, and I don't want to give up who I am either, but I feel like together we could both help the other be the best version of ourselves possible. Whether through food or… other things. I have fun with you, Nomoto-san. I enjoy spending time with you. You feel more like family than my own family does. You've brought me love and life, and I'm very glad for that. And if you want to make that forever, then I would like to explore that, too."
Nomoto forced herself to swallow her mouthful of cake as she attempted to wipe away the tears now stinging her eyes.
"I-I'm so glad to hear you say that," she said. "I was so worried… so worried that you wouldn't. That you'd hate me for suggesting this. And I didn't even say—I didn't even say love, but I think it might be, and I want to get to know you better and try all this and… I'm so relieved that you do, too."
"Ah-would you like a tissue, Nomoto-san?"
"Yes please."
Kasuga stood, bless her, crossing the space to the tissue box, and knelt beside Nomoto as she offered it to her. She stayed there, patiently waiting, until Nomoto had wiped her eyes.
"May I hug you, Nomoto-san?"
"I may cry more if we do," Nomoto noted, and Kasuga gave a quiet chuckle.
"That's fine. I don't mind getting a little damp."
Hugging Kasuga felt the same way that doing anything else with Kasuga had until that point—joyful, right, very, very warm, and just as sweet as the marzipan still lingering on her palate. She shifted to hug her back, and buried her face into her neighbour—her girlfriend's?—shoulder.
"I can't believe that if I'd spoken up sooner, maybe we could have been doing this a year ago."
"Maybe," Kasuga allowed, "but maybe it's like the fruit in the stollen."
"Huh?"
"Just… it takes time to build up the flavour, and is best savoured rather than enjoyed all at once. I've liked savouring getting to know you, Nomoto-san. And I look forward to getting to know you better still."
Nomoto nodded, the fabric of Kasuga's sweatshirt growing damp as the tears started to flow once more. "Me too."
There would be more years of stollen, and more experimenting with traditional recipes and finding what worked best for them. But she thought they'd keep the box mix too, and enjoy the one that was already wholly theirs.
It was nice to make memories like that after all, and nicer too to know that there would be plenty of time to make even more, and to savour them all, together.