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Yosano cursed and she immediately heard a soft chuckle from the living room. Was Kouyou mocking her? Just because Miss Fancy Lady in there was perfect at everything didn’t mean Yosano didn’t know her way around a kitchen.
When she’d invited Kouyou over so she could bake her cookies from scratch, the Mafia Intelligence Executive had started typing a response, then gone quiet for minutes — followed by an “I look forward to it <3” Yosano had gasped and furiously typed back, “what! You don’t think I can make cookies? I’m a good cook!” She was a fine cook, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that her own girlfriend — who claimed to love her — didn’t believe in her. After a brief pause, Kouyou had responded, “Darling, cooking and baking are different worlds entirely.”
Originally, Yosano had thought they could make the cookies together, that it’d be a fun wintertime activity, but after this astonishing lack of confidence from her lover, she became determined to bake the cookies all by herself, on principle.
So that’s how she ended up alone in her apartment’s kitchen, elbow deep in dough that didn’t feel quite right, with Kouyou calmly reading a book on her sofa with her back to the kitchen.
When she cooked, she usually played fast and loose with ingredients, spices, measurements, and cook times. This same strategy could be applied to baking — or so she thought — it’s still putting a bunch of things together and applying heat. How different could it be?
If she’d been thinking with her scientific mind, the one she used at work, she probably would’ve realized the error of this line of thinking — it’s a very different kind of chemistry. But in her stubbornness and irritation, she had deviated from the recipe, thinking she knew better than it even though it was her first time following this one.
And now the dough felt weird. She was not sure where she went wrong, but this did not feel like what she knew cookie dough usually felt like. After hearing that derisive laugh from her partner, however, she decided to follow through anyway. Maybe this recipe was a special kind of cookie dough that was supposed to feel different from other kinds.. Yeah. It probably was.
Not without great effort, Yosano rolled the slimy mess out, used a cookie cutter to form slimy little snowflakes, and carefully transferred them onto the paper-lined baking sheet. They went in the oven.
During the waiting time, she refused to go into the living room, instead leaning against the counter and playing a mindless gacha game.
Finally, her timer went off, and she pulled the tray out, her heart dropping the moment she saw them — blobby shapes looking nothing like snowflakes. Well hey, at least they’d still taste good. Probably.
She chewed her bottom lip while they cooled, Kouyou choosing wisely not to turn around and check on what was happening in the kitchen.
Though she was not religious, Yosano prayed silently to whoever was listening as she took a bite of one of the cookies. The lumpy mass was so brittle that it hurt her teeth, but inside seemed raw still?
This had been a complete failure. Failure was something she had to work very hard to deal with. Be it large or small, it felt like the whole world was crashing in around her. But Yosano had been through a lot of therapy. So she breathed. When she felt successfully calmed, she swallowed hard and walked into the living room, empty-handed.
But when Kouyou stood and turned around to meet her gaze, there was no smugness there, no “I told you so.”
Kouyou looked at her with a soft concern, then opened her arms. Yosano was flooded with relief and accepted the hug readily, burying her head in Kouyou’s shoulder.
“How did you — how did you know?” Yosano mumbled into the soft fabric of her clothes.
Bringing a hand up to stroke Yosano’s hair, Kouyou replied, “‘Kiko, my ‘Kiko… If it had gone well, you wouldn’t have stayed quiet about it.”
Yosano let out a sad little laugh and pulled back from the embrace, “I’m sorry I ruined them.”
“No need, dear. I’m proud of you for trying.”
If anyone else had spoken to Yosano this way, she’d promptly slap them across the face, or — depending on the offender — pull out her chainsaw. She would never let anyone belittle her. All would respect her authority, expertise, her raw power — or they would face her blade.
But with Kouyou, Yosano usually didn’t mind feeling small. In fact, she enjoyed that there was someone she could trust to be strong when she wasn’t, like a large stone in her rushing brook. The stone helped direct her turbulent path, and she in turn shaped the stone. On bad days, Yosano felt like eroded was a more accurate word than shaped, but today she was just happy the stone was in her arms, shimmering and steady as always.
“Now we don’t have cookies…” Yosano sighed dejectedly.
“Let’s go to my place.”
By “her place,” Kouyou meant The Golden Demon, the lustrous tea house she ran, the employees of which were all Mafia intelligence operatives. Yosano was sure that, at any given moment, there were at least six different kinds of cookies available for the taking.
It felt like cheating, but Yosano didn’t want to go her whole day off without having any cookies when that’s what she set out to do on this chilly winter day, and she was too tired and done with it to try making them again. So she agreed.
“Let’s walk there.” It would help her calm the tension that had built up in her body all day.
Kouyou nodded. They bundled up, and Yosano felt it was unfair how seeing Kouyou in a scarf made her lose whatever train of thought she was on.
“What is it, my love?” Kouyou asked.
Yosano could play it cool but instead chose honesty, “You’re just gorgeous is all.”
It was worth it for the way Kouyou’s ears turned pink.
As they strolled down the sidewalks, Yosano realized she hadn’t budgeted for just how biting the air would be. It was the coldest day this winter thus far, finally dipping close to freezing. Yosano had gotten used to the unusually mild winter and had made a habit of grabbing her cuter, lighter jacket when going out.
As if sensing her thoughts, Kouyou, usually reserved when it came to PDA, wrapped her arm around Yosano’s waist and drew her close, so that they walked, very literally, side by side.
It was not the most ergonomic positioning and slowed their pace. Yosano didn’t mind.
I don’t like the cold, but this isn’t so bad.
Yosano was grinning like a fool when she felt a pinprick of cold on her nose — a snowflake!!
They took a detour through a quiet park, and suddenly it started coming down in earnest, the little white particles fluttering through the air as far as the eye could see.
Yosano drew out of their warm formation for a moment to look at this woman who made everything around her feel like a movie scene just by virtue of her beauty, the way she carried herself as she walked, her perfect makeup, and the look in her eyes that made Yosano feel like nothing could go wrong, and well, if it did, it probably wasn’t important anyway.
Kouyou paused and turned to Yosano with a subtly questioning look.
Yosano glanced around, confirming that there was nobody close by. She leaned in, brushing some snowflakes out of Kouyou’s fiery hair (she didn’t know why, she liked the way they looked there) and gave her a short kiss on the lips. “Thank you,” she breathed, beaming as they parted.
She was rewarded with the immense privilege of seeing Kouyou flustered, pink spreading from her ears to her cheeks and nose. Kouyou opened her mouth slightly, closed it again, then said, softly, “I love you.”
Yosano kissed her again, certain that this was the best winter she’d ever lived.
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