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“Again, I can’t apologize enough for making a mess of your room, Kurea-san!” Mikuru repeated for at least the fifth time now in the short trek down the hall, clasping her hands together and bowing in overblown sincerity.
Kurea giggled amusedly, shaking her head as she turned to step inside. “Really, it’s fine, don’t worry about it! I was never the tidiest myself-”
Suddenly, she was stopped in her tracks at the doorway as a subtle, yet unmistakable wafting scent invaded her nostrils.
Even after all this time… it really still smells like…
Wide, glassy eyes scanned her former bedroom now spread out before her, countless memories tied to the space ricocheting off the walls of her skull at mach speed. Her gaze wandered from the same disorganized desk she’d spent countless nights hunched over to the hastily made bed; The dust-doused scrapbook of memories fanning open to the eternally preserved mental image of waking up beside a peacefully resting Luluka, with drool pooling at her pillow as she snored and her wild sandstorm mane somehow even more tousled than usual; all while Shushutan and Mashutan curled snugly into each other just above them.
After a certain point, they’d started having more mornings like that than ones spent in separate beds, hadn’t they?
… Until…
Just as an anguished ache coursed through her chest, Kurea was gently tugged from her melancholic trance by Mikuru’s footsteps following her inside.
“I tried to keep it the way it was left as best as I could,” Mikuru started as she walked towards the bookshelf, “… to tell you the truth, I thought this was Luluka-san’s room until just a few weeks ago…” she confessed with a sheepish smile. “We didn’t know she had a partner until then, and Anna’s- Luluka-san’s actual room was completely barren by the time we got here, so…” she trailed her index finger along the thick spines as she spoke, stopping once she reached a certain standout title. Mikuru tilted it towards herself, sliding it out smoothly as Kurea watched curiously. “But, with things like this,” she finally held the book out towards her with a goofy grin, “it makes a lot of sense that it was yours after all, Kurea-san.”
A nostalgic warmth traveled through Kurea’s veins, igniting a fond smile at the well-worn book titled A One Hundred Year History of Ice Cream. She stepped closer, outstretching her own hands for Mikuru to pass it to her; which her dutiful kouhai swiftly obliged. Kurea cradled it gingerly to her chest as though it were a priceless ancient tome, ghosting her fingertips over its smooth surface. “A clever deduction, Kobayashi-kun!” she playfully praised, sending Mikuru into a crimson flurry of bashful half-protests spurred on by her aggressive scratching at the back of her neck and ahoge that spun wildly like a propeller.
A reminiscent glint shimmered in Kurea’s eyes as she thumbed the edge of the cover and began to speak again, bringing Mikuru back down to earth. “… Ice cream has always been Luluka’s favorite dessert… I didn’t have as much experience with making it as other kinds of sweets when we met, so I was always trying to learn more and get better at it for her…” Kurea recalled lovingly, finally bringing her eyes to meet Mikuru’s with all her wistful, unbridled yearning laid bare. “It didn’t always go as planned at first, but… she’d always, always gobble everything I made for her down with the brightest look on her face, and such eager gusto…” she brought her free hand to her chest, fingertips curling slightly as she trailed off.
Mikuru’s face fell, her brows upturning in sorrow. She swallowed hard as a thick silence befell them, before finally taking the leap after a deep inhale:
“You… you two really loved each other, didn’t you?”
Kurea shook her head firmly, to which Mikuru jolted in utter bewilderment.
“Not loved, Mikuru-chan,” Kurea spoke sharply as the beginnings of a subtle, mysterious grin took form at the corners of her lips. “We still do. Even right now… I can feel her heart calling out to me.”
Mikuru blinked hard a few times, before giving a few rapid shakes of her head as she scrambled to agree. “O-Of course! Nothing could ever truly tear apart that kind of special bond! In fact, I’m sure that Luluka-san…”
As Mikuru carried on with her comically passionate and animated ramblings beside her, Kurea’s attention shifted to the bedroom window and the pitch dark abyss beyond its panes; her smile growing wider for a special, secret reason known only to her and one other alone.
“… You’re out there, aren’t you Luluka? Do you feel my heart, too?”
****
Luluka smirked to herself, a shudder of adrenaline trickling down her spine as she stared intensely right back at Kurea; whose gaze had finally reached her distant treetop perch. She unhinged her jaw, almost salivating as she chomped down hard onto a melting mound of ice cream, coating her moonlight-glistening fang in a film of blueberry-lemon swirl.
On the branch beside her, Mashutan abruptly cleared her throat, beckoning her attention. “As much as it pains me to cut your cute little game short, should we really be leaving your new throne vacant for so long, Luluka-sama?” Mashutan playfully teased with a gentle nudge of her elbow.
“… Those fools know that they’re playing by our rules now. What could they even do in that sorry state?” Luluka started before shooting Mashutan a half-hearted glare. “You’re just itching to get back so you can play Queen.”
Mashutan stiffened slightly, before bonking herself on the forehead and sticking her tongue out in defeat. “Busted…! But can you blame me?! It’s just too fun to rub it all in their faces after they pushed us around for so long!” she exclaimed, pumping her furry fist in fiery burst of passion.
Luluka exhaled a heavy sigh, taking another bite. “I’ll indulge you for tonight, but get your priorities straight, will you?” she muttered through a mouthful, offering her partner a mildly amused grin.
“Naturally, darling! Who do you think you’re talking to?!”
As Mashutan’s boisterous rambles droned on, Luluka’s attention was rerouted back towards Kurea’s cage; only to find that she’d turned her back and was about to leave the room, laughing heartily along to whatever Kobayashi was blabbering about.
Tch.
A sudden crunch echoed through the night, sending a flurry of wafer crumbs down to dust the front of Luluka’s cloak.
… I’ll put an end to it. All of it.
I’m coming for you, Cure Eclair. Try to fly away from me all you want, but this is for her own good.
... Watch me, my sweet Kurea. I'll clip those wings with my own two hands, and finally show you just how much I really love you.