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It had to be perfect…
Karamatsu sticks his tongue out in concentration as he boils three pots, stirring occasionally to keep the contents from sticking to the sides and burning. In one pot he’s boiling milk chocolate, in the other it’s white chocolate, and in the final pot, it’s black cherries. He keeps a careful eye on the heat, making sure it’s not too high. He can’t have anything burning. Not for this.
He counts each stir. One, two, three, four… Everything must be perfect.
When the batch is done, he pours the two chocolates into one large brownie pan, making sure to swirl the white and milk chocolate into a striped pattern, and not have the two overlap or mix together, or else the design would be ruined. No everything had to be perfect.
When the pan had been evenly distributed, he sticks the pan in the freezer to chill, and then sets to work cleaning up the kitchen. His mother wouldn’t appreciate having to clean the kitchen, since this was his doing; the least he could do was clean up his own mess. He snatches up the sponge near the sink, scrubbing the stove top squeaky clean, and washing the dishes until there isn’t a speck of food left. Even his cleaning had to be perfect, for today.
While he waits for the candies to cool, he sits by the coffee table and fixes his hair in his handheld mirror, wanting to keep his appearance in perfect condition. Perfect, Perfect, Perfect!
The timer buzzes, letting him know he’s halfway there. He sets the mirror down and heads back into the kitchen, taking the now cooled chocolate out of the freezer. He grabs their cutting knife and oh so carefully cuts heart shapes into the solid block. Then he takes the cooled cherries, their juices having turned into a sticky syrup and drizzles them slowly over the hearts, trying to make pictures out of them. It’s not as perfect as he’d like it, but it’s good enough. It’ll pass .
Finally he places the candies in a white box with 8 squared sections, covers them with a lid, wraps them up in paper, tapes the sides down and ends it with a bow.
It was finished. It was...well, you get it!
He lets his fingers run carefully over the paper he had picked out for the gift wrap. It was probably silly to feel this proud; it was just wrapping paper. It would become useless the moment the recipient tore the paper to shreds, only caring about the gift inside. But still, he had spent some time trying to find the best color, the one that felt the nicest under his fingers. Something smooth, and soft; reflective, but not too flashy. The deep red hinting at his deep passion for the person in question, the sheen emphasizing how bright the other made his world. It was just wrapping paper, and maybe he had spent too much money on something that would be ignored and overlooked in the end, but still, he allows that swell of pride to fill his chest.
Besides, it was the gift on the inside that matters most. Even he knows that. Paper this pretty is only meant to preserve the beauty for the actual treat. He had worked hard, reading and rereading the recipe he had found online to make sure that there would be no mistakes, no failed attempts. He wanted a perfect batch with the first one. And though it had been long and strenuous, using more energy than his NEET endurance allowed, the finished product had been worth the careful and long preparation. Only the best, for the best.
And he deserved only the best…
Karamatsu feels his cheeks warming, and he doesn’t need to pull out his mirror to know he has a ridiculous expression on his face; it was showing up clearly on the wrapping. Maybe going with metallic wrapping paper hadn’t been the best idea. He tries to stop smiling, but he can’t, and that only makes his cheeks burn in embarrassment instead. Still, he was the only one there, so maybe it was okay to look a little foolish. No brothers to tease him, or point out the lovestruck expression he was making. Though he doubted they would notice. If being ignored had it’s perks, it was that you could get away with looking idiotic and no one would know; not when they found your entire existence idiotic anyway.
Although, maybe one would notice. And it was probably the one he didn’t want to notice the most.
He was just glad everyone was out of the house. That he was out of the house. It gives Karamatsu enough time to prepare. And it gives him enough time to find a way to quietly sneak the gift in a place only he would find it (it would suck if one of the other brothers found it first). He wonders where would be a suitable spot. Somewhere only he would look, but it also had to be in a spot that Karamatsu knew he would look at today. He couldn’t risk it being discovered, but if it got ignored, the chocolates would melt and his whole morning would have been for nothing (not to mention, a huge mess). He can’t flat out give it to him; that was out of the question for multiple reasons. He can’t ask his brothers to give it to him either, that would draw suspicion, and jealousy at not getting treats themselves might end with the person never receiving the gift. The thought of his brothers eating them to spite him was even more cruel a thought than heat spoiling the chocolates.
He checks his watch, wondering when his brothers would be returning home. When he sees the time though, his jaw falls open in shock and he jumps to his feet. “Crap! I’m going to be late!” He had promised Todomatsu he would pick him up from yoga practice and bring him some green tea, as he usually did (It was a little routine and it allowed some “Bruzzerly” bonding with his baby brother), and he was already 10 minutes late. He knew his brother would not be pleased with him and he’d certainly get his earful when he arrived. He silently hoped the class hadn’t been let out yet. He didn’t mind when the class ran late and he was the one waiting outside for more than a few minutes, but Todomatsu would not share the same consensus. “If I hurry, I can make up the excuse that the cafe was pretty packed today, and maybe he’ll only give me a withering glare,” he mutters to the empty room, swiping up his jacket and bolting for the door, eyes casted down at his watch.
He fails to see the brother looming by the living room door as he leaves.
---
Oso had been here. Behind the screen door, he had been quietly watching Karamatsu toil away at the chocolates all day. The blue sextuplant hadn’t noticed Osomatsu when he ran off, but that was better for the eldest. Silently, he slips inside, making a beeline for the coffee table. He kneels down, picking up the wrapped treats to study them closely. His thumb traces slowly over the maroon wrapping paper, stopping just short of the blood orange ribbon (“It’s Fucking RED! Osomatsu” he could just envision Totty’s voice snarling those words at him. Osomatsu would have laughed at the thought if he were in the laughing mood).
He can still smell the aroma of chocolate and cherry syrup wafting from the kitchen (Or maybe it’s leaking out through the present?). It smells good. Really good. His mouth waters unconsciously and he reaches up to wipe the corner of his lips which are pooling with saliva.
This isn’t the paper they use to wrap gifts. It’s not the same gift wrap that they have stored in their closet to use for Christmas and Birthday presents. No, this is something he’s never seen before, which means that Karamatsu actually went out of his way to buy it. It looks pricer than the wrapping paper they use. He expected it to be gaudier, and while it is reflective and he can see his face glaring back at him, it isn’t the typical Karamatsu flare he expected. Which means Karamatsu made a conscious decision to be less painful. Whoever this was for, Karamatsu had put a lot of care into it, making sure it was perfect, right down to the bow. That it wouldn’t be too peacocky, or humiliating for the receiver. No one would be able to guess it was from someone as extravagant and flamboyant in style as Karamatsu; it was as average as any other white day wrapped chocolates (though maybe it would have been better to go with white wrapping, instead of red, as red was more reserved for Valentine’s day). Though Osomatsu figured there was some secret symbolism in the coloring of the paper, like it represented Karamatsu’s burning desire, or something fruity like that. But even then, the symbolism was toned down; still speaking volumes, but in a more subtle way. The second eldest had made sure that it would be acceptable enough for this mysterious lover. It was perfect. It was considerate. It was charming.
...It was pissing him off!
His eye twitches, and before he can stop his impulses, his fingers have curled around the paper, crumpling the perfectly smooth surface. In his mind he sees Karamatsu, stirring the pots with careful precision, counting each clockwise turn, as if he didn’t keep count, the dish would be ruined (not that Oso would have minded if it had been screwed up). Watching Karamatsu pour the pot of chocolate into a brownie pan, making sure that everything was distributed evenly so that when he stuck it in the freezer to chill, no side would be unbalanced. Sees him cut each square with meticulous concentration. His tongue poking out between chapped lips, eyebrows scrunched tightly together with clear focus. He went to wipe the sweat trickling down his cheek, and ended up smearing milk chocolate across it in it’s place. He didn’t seem to notice.
Osomatsu watched him drizzle the finished, mixed chocolates with that deliciously thick and gooey cherry syrup. Osomatsu had wanted to blow his cover right then and there, interrupt Karamatsu’s concentrated little bubble and have a taste. Cherries and Strawberries were his weakness, and that stickly red syrup had been tantalizing, and Karamatsu was wasting it to coat some stupid chocolates for some stupid secret girlfriend or something.
And then Osomatsu remembers the expression Karamatsu had made when he had finished wrapping the gift. When he was just observing his work. For a second he just looked proud, and Osomatsu supposed he deserved to feel proud. After all, he had spent an entire morning slaving away in the kitchen, something that none of the other brothers, not even Choromatsu could say they had done. Add the fact that he even cleaned up his mess while he waited for the sweets to cool, and had spent another couple of minutes carefully wrapping the gift when he was done, he had done way more than was normal for the average NEET like themselves. It was impressive, he had the right to feel proud of it, even if no one else was there to notice it. Or openly notice it (not eavesdrop like he was).
But then...then the expression on his face had morphed from pride...to something that set Osomatu’s insides on fire. It was the softest look he had ever seen his brother give, at least in quite some time. It was a vulnerable expression, one he wouldn’t ever show to his brothers if he could help it. Not the cool guy persona he kept up for appearance sake, it was as close to his true personality as he allowed. It was raw, unadulterated, unabashed, affection. He gazed at that present like it was the moon and stars, like he was staring at the face of his lover, and not some gift wrapped box of confections. He looked at it with all the love and joy of a man struck by cupid’s arrows. And yet, there was also the smallest tinge of fear, as if he was afraid the person wouldn’t accept his gift. His perfect gift that he had painstakingly worked on all day, putting his sweat, blood, and tears into. The fear that even at his most heartfelt vulnerability, he still expected rejection from such a perfect gift.
As if the person would reject such a gift. How could anyone reject such a gift? There was no way that Karamatsu’s girl would reject the gift. It was too perfect. She was going to love it…
Osomatsu tears the wrapping paper off in one fluid motion.
She would have loved it, Osomatsu thinks , if he wasn’t going to eat it all!
“How dare that bastard! Who does he think he is? Getting himself a girlfriend, without even telling us? What, was he embarrassed by us? Is he embarrassed of her? If she’s as ugly as his ‘ex-wife’ was, I can understand why! Bet these chocolates would have made her feel better. Too bad she’ll never know! Serves him right for keeping her a secret from us,” Osomatsu finds himself muttering, as he tears the pretty blood orange (“RED! Osomatsu!”) bow off and chucks it as far away from himself as he can. The sight of it makes him see ‘Blood Orange’.
“Seriously, who does he think he is?” He pulls off the lid to the box, crumpling it in a white knuckled fist, before he tosses it behind his back, wanting it out of his sight just as much as everything else, “Getting a girlfriend before the rest of us? I’m the eldest! I should be the first one to get a girlfriend! Not stupid, Shittymatsu! Why is he even making White Day Chocolates? I don’t remember him getting any chocolates on Valentine’s day. I remember getting smashed at Chibita’s Oden stand, whining about what virgins we all were, and Karamatsu whining just as loudly as the rest of us! Was he just lying so the rest of us wouldn’t feel bad? What an asshole! How come we didn’t notice that he got chocolates? Did he already eat them before? Or maybe he hid them away like he’s trying to hide his ugly, Hippo-faced girlfriend from us!” He stops his angry spiel long enough to glance down at the chocolates.
They were cut and shaped into perfect little hearts. The milk chocolate and white chocolate were swirled together in a nice, zebra stripped pattern. The cherry syrup had dried atop the candies, the pièce de résistance to the already scrumptious looking sweets. He is once more overwhelmed by the scent of chocolate and cherry. They are even prettier up close than from his hiding spot behind the screen, reminding Osomatsu that Karamatsu had spent hours working on these. For a moment, guilt overcomes him, and he wonders if he’d be able to put everything back the way it was, without Karamatsu being any the wiser. These candies had been made specially for someone important to Karamatsu, and it isn’t his place to take that away. They meant a lot to Karamatsu to make them, and he knows they would mean a lot to the person they were for...
But then he is reminded that these chocolates had been made for someone important that wasn’t them, and all feelings of guilt are discarded like useless gift wrap.
His anger might have even doubled.
He picks out the chocolate in the middle. The one that is the most tantalizing; the biggest piece. Of course it be the centerpiece for the rest of the candies. He pops it into his mouth and chews thoughtfully, savoring the flavor.
The candy melts on his tongue, and he can’t stop the little moan of pleasure that slips out. The blend of chocolates delight his tastebuds, and the cherry syrup adds an extra sweet flavoring that has him squirming in joy. It’s good. It’s so damn good. For a second, he forgets his frustrations, and can only think about his tastebuds being stimulated. How come he’d never had Karamatsu’s baking before? He should have made him bake for them years ago, if he was that good. Where’d he even learn to bake like this? Osomatsu probably would never know, but he was fine with not knowing so long as Karamatsu would just bake something else for him instead. Cookies? A cake? Anything really. He just wanted more of his brother’s cooking.
Once more, the realization that his brother had made these chocolates for someone else, put a damper on his mood, and he suddenly found the once sweet taste of the chocolates to become horribly bitter against his tongue. With renewed fury, he picks up another chocolate and tosses it into his mouth, chewing viciously, no longer trying to savor the flavor. He just wants to ruin his brother’s gift. He wants to ruin his brother.
“Awful! You are so disgustingly painful Karamatsu! So Disgusting! Putting all this effort and work for some stupid girl. All this effort going to waste by your awful, shitty brother! Are you happy Shittymatsu? This happened because of you. You have no one to blame but yourself!”
He tosses another piece into his mouth, “If you had just made all of us chocolates instead, I wouldn’t be eating your precious girlfriend’s box right now. If you didn’t make stupid chocolates at all, there wouldn’t be any for me to eat. I wouldn’t be ruining your White Day right now, or your girlfriend’s. Fucking Bitch! Who does she think she is! Expecting chocolates from some shitty NEET. She’s the worst.”
Another chocolate down the hatch, “And what? She likes Cherries too or something? Somehow that pisses me off more! You know how much I love cherries Karamatsu, and you wasted them all for this...this bitch! Well now I’m going to waste all these perfect chocolates. And I’ll make sure not to enjoy any of them, so you don’t even get the pleasure of knowing anyone would have liked them!”
He tips the box over, letting the rest fall into his open mouth. He struggles to chew them, regretting the decision a second later. He should have at least poured himself a glass of milk to chase it down. But whatever! He swallows, letting out an angry huff as he gives the now empty box a victorious smirk. Served it right. He pats his belly, letting out a burp. His mission complete. The candy is gone, his brother has nothing to show to his mysterious lover. She will be devastated. Maybe she’ll cry. Maybe he’ll cry. Osomatsu finds pleasure in that thought, knowing he has successfully ruined the day.
He doesn’t notice the door sliding open. “B-B-Bruzzer!!!!!”
Osomatsu freezes, and he’s suddenly overcome by a sense of dread. There’s only one person who would use that word, would refer to him in that choppy english of his. Osomatsu doesn’t know what to do. Bolting would be the easiest option, but it was only a temporary solution. He’d have to come back sometime and face the consequences sooner or later. In that single second before he heard his brother’s voice, the thought of breaking Karamatsu brought Osomatsu nothing but joy. But the thing was: he was expecting to already be gone when Karamatsu discovered the crime scene. He didn’t actually want to see Karamatsu cry. Not in front of him, not when he knew Karamatsu would be crying because of him! Shit! This wasn’t part of the plan. Karamatsu shouldn’t have been back, why was he back? He didn’t hear Todomatsu’s voice behind Karamatsu either, so that meant Karamatsu had to have forgotten something and turned back around. And now he was caught, red handed, the empty box still in his hands. His guilty hands.
He didn’t want to be caught. He didn’t want to actually see Karamatsu’s hurt in the moment. He was hoping he’d be able to see it later on in the evening, when it had dulled out and Karamatsu was trying to put up a front to hide it. But now he’d be seeing everything, and Osomatsu didn’t plan for this.
What did he do?
There was only one thing to do: Feign innocence. Putting on his best, ‘oops, my bad’ smile, he turns around to address the second born, “Ah, Karamatsu, hey! Sorry. Were these chocolates for you? I hadn’t realized. I just saw them on the table, and they smelled so good, I couldn’t control myself. They were wrapped in red, and you know...my color is red, so I thought maybe it was for me. Hahaha, whoops. I hope the person who gave these to you won’t be too disappointed. Or um, was this supposed to be for someone else? Cause like, I can like...buy you a new one if you want. How much was it? If it’s not too expensive, I’ll buy you a new one for them.” He lies. He knows they weren’t for Karamatsu, that they weren’t store bought, and that he has no intention of ever spending money for Karamatsu’s secret lover. He’d rather die before that happened.
But he is shocked when he looks at Karamatsu’s face. He expects to see hurt, betrayal, tears, even anger. He expects a set jaw, teeth gritted together. Eyebrows knitted downwards, the corners of his eyes wet with unshed tears. Fingers clenched into fist; fast, controlling breaths to calm himself. But when he looks at Karamatsu, none of those features are on his face.
Instead, he sees his brother’s eyes wide as saucers, and a cherry red blush blooming across his entire face.
“Kara--?”
“H-how long have you been home?” Karamatsu interrupts him before he can finish.
Osomatsu blinks, not quite understanding. This isn’t what he was envisioning when getting caught. There’s no real accusation in Karamatsu’s voice, more like fear. Osomatsu continues with his lie, “Um, I got home when you were running out, so not long at all. You looked like your were in a rush, why are you back already?”
Karamatsu stares at him for a few seconds longer than necessary, trying to decipher if Osomatsu is telling the truth. But Osomatsu has the best poker face, so Karamatsu eventually has no other choice than to believe him. He lets out a sigh, but not one of disappointment or exasperation. A sigh of relief??? “That’s….good…” Why is that good???
Karamatsu shuffles from foot to foot, trying to decide how to continue the conversation. His lips are pulled into a thin line and his eyes are locked on some point on the wall and Osomatsu can’t see what it is Karamatsu is looking at. “I um...forgot something. And I came back to retrieve them. But um, it seems I was a bit late on that.” His eyes glance down at the empty box still in Osomatsu’s hands. And now it makes sense.
Ah! That’s why he came back early. He wanted to grab the sweets before one of us got our hands on it. Well it’s a little late for that. Osomatsu tries, but the triumphant smirk squirms its way onto his face before he can squash it. But Karamatsu doesn’t look upset by it. He just seems to go redder, and turns his attention back to that fixed space on the wall.
“What did you think? D...Did you like it?”
Osomatsu’s jaw falls open, despite himself. Try as he might to play it nonchalant, there are some things that even he can’t “poker face” away. This isn’t what he was expecting at all. If this was Choromatsu, the man would be ranting and raving, telling him how selfish and inconsiderate to other people’s feelings he was. Ichimatsu would have strangled him on the spot. Todomatsu would have waited, quietly, to execute him, doing it in a way that would make it look like an accident. Hell, he doesn’t even think Jyushimatsu would have been this forgiving. And yet Karamatsu is acting coolly about the whole ordeal. Or okay, maybe not coolly about it, but his reaction is far from the one he had assumed.
“Um...they...they were good? They had cherries in them...right?”
“B-black cherries…” Karamatsu corrects, to be precise.
“Right...Black cherries. Um...well I love cherries...black cherries...so um….it was good...It was really good? I um--I’m sorry but um, why aren’t you mad?”
“Mad? Why would I be mad?”
“Well I mean...I ate something that wasn’t mine right? Shouldn’t you be more upset with me. They looked like really nice chocolates too. I don’t know, I expected you to be more...furious?”
“You thought they looked nice?” The hopeful expression on Karamatsu’s face was unfitting.
“Yes? N-Not the point! I ate something that wasn’t mine! Why aren’t you upset???”
“Why are you assuming they weren’t for you?”
The question makes Osomatsu stop dead. What? He looks to Karamatsu for answers, but Karamatsu is once more looking at that invisible object on the wall, and now Osomatsu is actually sure that there’s nothing there and Karamatsu is just avoiding his gaze. He rewinds Karamatsu’s words in his head, and hits replay.
Why are you assuming they weren’t for you? Why are you assuming they weren’t for you?
Now the heat is spreading to his cheeks and he blames his painful brother for this infection he’s spreading, “Karamatsu...who did you make these chocolates for?”
“You knew I made these chocolates…” Karamatsu avoids the question and now Osomatsu is sure.
“Yeah…”
“You didn’t happen to walk in when I was leaving, did you?”
“I was here the whole time. I saw you making them…”
“Nii san you’re so rude…” the insult was flimsy.
“Yeah, I know...You didn’t make these for some secret girlfriend, did you?”
“Nope...I’m still a virgin NEET…”
“Good…”
A snicker, “Good?”
Osomatsu licks his lip, feeling his mouth curving back into it’s usual grin. “Yeah, good.”
“So you liked them then?”
“I liked the first one, it was really good.”
“But not the other’s?” A slight tinge of worry in his voice.
It was Osomatsu’s turn to feel embarrassed, “Um...I thought they were for some girl...so I got pissed and tried to stuff them all down my throat. I thought that by not enjoying them, it would be a bigger slap in the face.” When he sits back and thinks on it; the idea is even dumber in his head. Did he seriously? Did he seriously just get jealous of himself? Did he actually just ruin the present that was meant for him? Did he jealously eat his OWN fucking chocolates.
Karamatsu seems to understand the humor in this, because he starts shaking, hand over his mouth to hide the laughter trying to escape. But seconds later, it really sets in, and he’s dying; hands over his stomach, head to the sky, chortling away, tears in his eyes. “Oh my god! Oh My God Nii san, did you seriously? Did you actually? Yeah! Yeah you did! You actually did!”
Osomatsu lets the whole thing sink in as well, until he can’t contain it either. He wraps an arm around his side and bursts out laughing alongside Karamatsu. “I know! This really is one of the dumbest things your older brother has probably ever done, huh? Getting jealous at himself? I didn’t think it was possible to hate yourself so much, but a few moments ago, I really proved how it was possible! And now I just...hah! My throat hurts so bad too! I should have at least gotten some milk to wash it down. I’m serious, this is my dumbest performance to date!”
“Not the dumbest, but maybe top five?”
“Fine, I’ll take top five. Hahah--ow--so painful. Look what you’ve done, you’ve made me even more painful than you, Karamatsu.”
“I don’t think that’s possible, Osomatsu Nii san.”
“Yeah, you’re right. You’ll still always be more painful.”
They’re both guffawing like mad men, doubled over and tears spilling down their cheeks at how unbelievable this all became.
Eventually, they manage to get themselves back under control. They wipe the wet spots from their cheeks and take a second to catch their breaths. When they look back at each other, they feel something heavy in the air. An unspoken longing that wants to be broken. Like they both want to take the next step, but not sure who will be the one to break it first. Karamatsu opens his mouth, like he’s going to be the first one, but Osomatsu stops him. He wants to push further, he wants to see this go on, but now is not the time, he knows it. They shouldn’t open this can of worms. It was funny while it lasted, but this is all it can be. All it should be. He knows this. He bottles the feeling instead.
“Didn’t you need to go pick up Todomatsu from yoga?”
“OH CRAP!” Todomatsu really was going to kill him now. There was no way he’d accept Karamatsu’s excuse for being this late. No long lines would save him from the verbal reprimand that was coming. Karamatsu turns on his heels and makes to rush for the front door. But before he can, Osomatsu reaches out and catches his wrist. Karamatsu stops and turns, his eyes widening.
And Osomatsu thinks, as he looks at Karamatsu’s still red cheeks and stunned, but wistful expression, Fuck it! And he smashes that bottle with a sledgehammer. He never liked doing what he was told.
“It’s not an ideal way to celebrate White Day, and it won’t ever be as good as your chocolates, but do you wanna go with me to play pachinko later tonight? If I win enough, maybe we can buy some White Day discount chocolates that no one else wanted. And afterwards we can even go for Oden? My treat ...But just us, alright? Don’t tell the others; I just want to spend it with you...”
Karamatsu feels the heat rise back into his cheeks. He nods, then, putting on his usual “cool guy” persona, says in his deep voice, “Sounds good, as long as you promise not to get jealous and eat all the oden first.”
Osomatsu chuckles, and his grip tightens a little. “I can’t make any promises, but we’ll see,” he says with an affectionate smile that makes Karamatsu’s entire day. The kind of expression he had been hoping to see ever since this morning. And it’s all his. Karamatsu lets his guard down, and drops his mask, for just a moment. He smiles back, and gives Osomatsu that same look; that sweet, vulnerable, lovesick expression that Osomatsu had wanted to see.
And, Osomatsu thinks, it’s even better when it’s directed at him.