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Osomatsu shrugs. “Everything you do is important, y'know? There's meaning in everything, and it connects you to everything else on the planet some way or another, so. Be as kind to the planet as possible and think deep, and basically anything can be magic. That's how a cottage witch gets shit done.” He walks over to the shelf with a tired grin, looking at some of the canisters in the cabinet.
“Are you sure you want to steal Choromatsu's herbs?”
“Is this the face of a guy who's unsure?” He turns around with a smile, looking just a bit nervous.
“A little, yeah.”
“No worries! Look, I'll find a way to pay him back. I'll get him some succulents or whatever,” he says with a snicker, picking up a few containers. “Ok, so. Rosemary. It helps with memory, and it smells super good. Seriously, get a whiff of that.” He cracks open the container, nudging your side, “Keeps you young, apparently.”
Osomatsu brings another canister down onto the table with a thunk, announcing it's arrival like it's about to climb into a wrestling ring, “Basil! Make people chill, calm down gross stomach feelings. It also keeps away bugs and possibly rakes in money, so. Bring it, basil, we're counting on you!”
“Poppy seeds. Luck and awareness, I could use both. We're still on for pachinko later, right?” You nod, rolling your eyes. “Awesome.” He turns around in mock dramatics, putting on his best generic action hero voice to say, “Let's make some bread.”
He must do this often, you think. While you make sure the oven's preheating and the pans are ready, he's drawing a symbol in the flour on the counter and pulling his hoodie off. “No yeast, no rising, because I have no patience today. That cool with you?”
“You're already making it, so. Keep up the good work?” He seems to pause for a second, staring down at the mix on the counter before making a pleased sound in the back of his throat and kneading away.
“So, uh. This’ll be good, I think! We've got stuff in the fridge to put on it, if you want. Choro's been all about putting stuff in oils and butter and all lately, so everything's cooked with a meaning or whatever, so you can just go crazy with it.” Osomatsu sounds more excited about this bread than he should be, but maybe he's just excited to be baking with someone else. He makes the dough into little rounds, sprinkling a few more poppy seeds on the top. “This is gonna be awesome.”
He's impatient as they bake, lights on in the oven to, and I quote, “get some sun energy up in this motherfucker.” He paces as you chitchat with him about how his day was, and he starts sweeping up the floor just to give his hands something to do. He lights candles. Red and white, of course, because why wouldn't he? It's his color, after all, and he always uses white because “It can sub in for anything and I'm a lazy loser.”
They're out, and they look unbelievably good. Maybe that's partly because he said he'd be cooking something that means something and you skipped lunch.
You decide to go with some garlic butter, pulling the small, still warm roll apart with a smile. He's watching for your reaction apparently. “This smells so good! The rosemary kind of jumps out at you, you know?”
Osomatsu lets out a giddy laugh, “Does it? Good! G'head, dig in.”
You take a bite, and you don't feel half as cold as you did before. Warmth spreads through you, and the flavor is absolutely unbelievable. He takes his first bite at the same time, nothing on it, and doesn't hesitate to let you know that he thinks his cooking is the best with the sort of happy sound he usually saves for a good beer.
“You feeling lucky yet?”
You nod, not quite willing to wait a moment to speak before tearing off a bit more and popping it in your mouth.
“Feeling anything else?” When you look over, he looks a bit nervous, looking away and at his breads when you look over. “Because, uh. I kinda just realized-- I didn't even know until now, I had no clue-- these herbs and stuff all kind of have, uh. Big, heavy associations with love and stuff.” His face is burning up, he totally did realize it. “Like, rosemary even has Aphrodite associations, like, what was I thinking?” He tries to laugh like it's nothing with a shake in his hands that lets you know that it means everything to him.
You let him agonize for a moment before you speak up. “Nothing that I wasn't feeling before. I knew that it felt familiar!”
Osomatsu's eyes go wide when he looks at you again. “...You mean it? You're not just playing with me? If this is a joke, it isn't funny, and I know funny!”
“I'm not joking! Who would?”
He smiles from ear to ear, rubbing a knuckle under his nose. “Well, damn. That's a huge relief, wow, uh. So… can we turn this hangout into a date, maybe? We'll do the same stuff, but, like. With dinner, I guess?”
You smile. “Sure, Oso.” He jumps up with a scream of joy, doing a victory lap around the kitchen. You can't help but laugh at the scene; it's all very oddly sweet for him.
He stops in front of you, offering you his hoodie. “So, like, uh. I don't know the protocol, how soon can I touch your butt? It's just really nice, and I'm all kinds of curious--”
“You just had to ruin the mood, didn't you?”
“So not now, ok, got it, we're cool, I'm good.”