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“So,” Nozomi began, dragging the word out with a mischief she normally didn’t allow herself. Her whole life, it felt like she’d been assigned the role of obedient girl, well-behaved girl, good, kind, thoughtful girl. A friend to all, someone who never caused trouble or put extra strain on her overworked mother’s shoulders. That was why she’d volunteered to help out with her experiments any way she could, wasn’t it? Because it was what a good, selfless daughter would do? She still struggled with thinking of herself, struggled even more with the notion of deliberately acting out, but her friends helped.
Kurara was one of the only people she felt comfortable roasting and trading snarky jabs with when the mood was right, so long as they didn’t get carried away with sensitive topics.
Kurara was, at the moment, stewing almost as much as the curry she was adding some extra spices to. From the stiffness of her back to the way she kept darting glances over at Nozomi the longer she let the suspense drag on, it was obvious that even that simple taunting was getting to her. She was dying to know whatever Nozomi wanted to talk about.
“Just spit it out already, Nozomi!” she finally exclaimed, with the kind of force behind it that made Nozomi glad Kurara was wearing her mask. Otherwise, there would’ve been a real risk of some spittle ending up in the simmering curry.
“Wow, did I get under your skin so easily? You must be really wound up today, Kurara-chan! Maybe a movie night is what you need to unwind. What do you think?” Pleased to have dropped the bomb, or at least the first phase of it, Nozomi smiled sweetly, folding herself almost double over the counter to get closer to Kurara. Close enough that Kurara could slap her, which of course she wouldn’t, and the fact that they both knew that would only irritate her more.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You haven’t gotten under my skin at all. Do you think anything could bother me when I have curry to make? It requires the utmost concentration. If I were to let my focus waver for even a moment at the wrong time, it would be catastrophic. The curry wouldn’t turn out right at all, and that would give the others reason to accuse me of being a fraud, or say that the Oosuzuki curry was never even that good to begin with, and I can’t have that. Compared to the prevention of curry slander, other provocations don’t matter a bit. Not even when they’re coming from one of my closest friends.”
Nozomi was content to stay quiet and let Kurara rant at first. If she didn’t get it all out of her system, she’d explode sooner rather than later. And Nozomi didn’t want her really getting upset. This was only a bit of fun between friends. Something… maybe like flirting, although she was too shy to call it by that name out loud.
As soon as the tides ebbed, she had to take her chance to strike again.
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dare try to get you to mess up on the curry! That’s basically sacred. I know how important it is. But what about that movie night, huh? No comment on that. Kyoshika-chan had plenty to tell me about your tastes earlier. I’m sure we can find something that you’ll enjoy.” Her grin widened, growing a little toothier. Nozomi allowed herself to experience the feeling of being the wild animal prowling through the jungle, sneaking up on its prey. She could be proactive too.
“Augh!” Kurara dropped her wooden spoon with a clatter onto the stove, missing the spoon rest and sending hot droplets of curry sauce splattering across the white surface. Without sparing a second to survey the mess, she whirled around to face Nozomi head on, hands balled into fists at her hips. “Why are you so annoying? And why are you listening to anything Kyoshika says about me or my so-called tastes? You and I both know that she barely has two brain cells to rub together in there. She can’t make sense of half the things she sees.”
“I’m pretty sure she knows how to make sense of two women kissing. Or… more than kissing. She’s not that thick,” Nozomi was hasty to conclude, ignoring the heat rising to her own cheeks as she imagined what Kurara might think of the actresses doing those things onscreen. If she was really watching them for the story of an epic romance, or if she was imagining someone during the steamiest scenes.
“Okay, so what? I like good cinema. It’s not like it’s vulgar. It has artistic value.”
“Never said it didn’t. You can teach me all about the artistic value later, unless I’m still too annoying for you to bear.” She had Kurara between a rock and a hard place. It was charming to watch her squirm, the minute back and forth movements of her masked head revealing the way she was looking around for something to save her from having to answer. Too bad. The kitchen was empty but for the two of them.
“Fine. If you’re that desperate for an education in the fine arts, come to my room tonight. I’ll pick out something suitable.” Kurara sniffed, head tilted up, and turned on her heel to tear a paper towel off the roll. She was wiping up the curry sauce from around the stove when Nozomi replied.
“But it’ll be one of your personal favorites, right? No sneaking around the issue and just picking something random that’s highly acclaimed?”
“Of course. You know how much I hate liars. You can rest assured that we’ll be watching an authentic member of the Oosuzuki Hall of Fame.”
The Oosuzuki Hall of Fame? Did that really exist…? Nozomi shook her head, brushing that thought aside. It didn’t really matter. It would be clear enough whether Kurara chose one of the sapphic romances she favored or something more mainstream.
“Good. In that case, I’ll be looking forward to it. Who knows, maybe I can give you an education tonight too, Kurara-chan.”