Fear Not (4)
She opened the one-liter carton, still about half full, and poured the milk into a mug. It was one of a matching set, a cat drawn on it in a soft, rounded style — cups she had bought just before the two of them started living together.
She set the pair of ceramic cups in the microwave, turned the dial, and set the time. Then she stared blankly out through the window, glowing a deep orange beyond the glass.
"—Hyah."
"...Ninomae-san?"
Someone threw their arms around her from behind, looping them about her waist and lacing their fingers together. Only two people lived in this house; who it was could not have been more obvious. Even if it hadn't been, the ample softness pressed against her back would have named them just as surely.
"Weren't you only just finished with your stream?"
"I wrapped up and came running."
Ninomae let out a bright little ehehe and buried her face in Han Seoyeon's back, nuzzling her a few times with the tip of her nose.
"I told you, didn't I? That we'd see each other after the stream."
"I didn't think it would be this soon. I'm not even finished getting ready."
"Getting ready?"
Ninomae tipped her head as she asked. For an answer, Han Seoyeon pointed at the microwave, still turning.
"I thought we might have some milk together, at least. Yes."
Then the same finger drifted sideways. A chocolate cake sat on a plate there. Unlike yesterday's, it was a round whole cake, though small enough that the two of them could manage it without trouble.
"Chocolate?"
"Yesterday was a whipped-cream cake, so I thought a little variation might be nice... Mm. You could call it a return gift for this Valentine's."
She was explaining that there had been something of that intention as well when, without meaning to, Han Seoyeon smiled — awkward, a little shy.
"...Now that I think about it, I was the only one who ate yesterday. Whipped cream might not have been so bad for you either, Ninomae-san."
Only a very little, but her cheeks flushed red. The memory of licking Ninomae's feet, plastered in whipped cream, was still vivid.
"......No."
"Yes?"
To that, though, Ninomae answered in a voice that seemed to creep out of her.
"It's just, um, I also... got a taste of it......"
"...Mm. Right. You did. Of course you did."
A moment later she unlaced her fingers, and Ninomae's hands climbed slowly until they reached Seoyeon's chin. Her fingers fumbled their way across Han Seoyeon's skin, crawling, and at the last they tapped her lips and stopped. At those fingers, moving a few more times as if to savor the soft give of them, Han Seoyeon flushed deeper and nodded. She had caught what Ninomae meant to say.
A first kiss that tasted of whipped cream. The feel of that instant came rushing back all at once.
"......"
"......"
They were silent, and for a little while they stayed just like that.
Then Ninomae took one step back, putting distance between them, afraid her pounding heartbeat might leak out through the place where they touched.
Seoyeon could more or less guess what she was after. She decided, all the same, against the charmless retort of Through those melons?
"I already said as much this morning, but... happy birthday, Ninomae-san."
Instead she only turned and set her lips to that forehead. Ninomae's face flushed warm, and still she smiled, loose and blissful.
"Would you go ahead and sit? Once the milk is warmed through, I'll bring it along with the cake."
"All right. I will."
She did not offer to wait a little longer and lend a hand. This was a celebration Han Seoyeon was preparing for her; what business did the person it was meant for have putting her hands on it? However much she only meant to help, Seoyeon probably wouldn't care for it.
Once Ninomae, so resolved, left the kitchen, Han Seoyeon looked once more into the microwave, its light still on. Not as she had at first. This time the gaze held an impatience in it — she wanted to get back to Ninomae's side as soon as she could.
Ninomae sat at the table and let a little time pass, and before long Han Seoyeon returned with a tray. On it were two cups of milk, warmed through, and a brownie cake of deep, dark brown. A few chocolate decorations were pressed into the cake, and a single candle stood in it, burning itself down.
"Come. Blow out the candle, if you would."
Han Seoyeon set the plate down in front of Ninomae as she spoke.
"You won't sing for me?"
"A-a song, you mean?"
"Yes. I want to hear a song in Shion-san's voice. Now that I think of it, I haven't heard you sing more than a few times."
"Nnngh......"
At that, Han Seoyeon let out a low groan. It wasn't that she couldn't. Put on the spot like this, though, she grew embarrassed for no reason at all.
"Shion-san? Keep this up and the wax is going to drip onto the cake."
"Nngh... Yes. All right. If that is what you wish, Ninomae-san......"
Han Seoyeon looked somewhere else, a little awkward, then cleared her throat once, and again. Slowly, a little stiffly, a Korean melody spilled from her throat.
Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you...
My beloved...
The voice was husky and low, and yet the song felt somehow gentle.
It didn't seem likely Han Seoyeon had ever been taught any particular technique by anyone. So it was probably something she was born with. Or else... perhaps the one who sang was so full, in her chest, of affection for someone that it overflowed without her knowing.
Ninomae waited until the song was finished, then blew, a soft breath, and the candle went out. From the wick, snuffed in an instant, a thin thread of smoke rose. A moment later the dry sound of Han Seoyeon's applause rang out.
"I'll bring the gift."
So saying, she rose from her seat once more.
When she came back, a single black brimmed hat was in her hand. A Cappello Romano, the sort Han Seoyeon wore from time to time.
...No. Looking closely, it was a little different. There was no cyan ribbon, the mark of a Gravekeeper. This was not the hat Han Seoyeon usually wore.
"I was thinking of a gift for you, Ninomae-san... mm, and this occurred to me. That when we go out together, it would be nice if you wore the same hat, and we walked side by side. ...Seeing it now, it's the same thought you said you had when you chose the necklace."
"Which is to say, a kind of couple's hat." She said as much, then offered a faint smile, a little self-conscious.
"A couple's hat..."
Ninomae stared at it, blank. Faced with an attitude she couldn't quite read, Han Seoyeon's expression grew a little more careful.
"I-if it isn't to your liking..."
"No! I love it. I really, really love it. I was just — how do I put it — happy that our hearts had matched. That's all."
It was the same as yesterday. In choosing a gift that would pair with something she already had, their hearts had certainly met.
"I'm happy. Truly."
Ninomae said so, and took the hat. She clutched it tight against her chest and looked at it with a small, shy smile, then carefully put it on at once.
"D-does it suit me?"
"...Yes. Very much."
There wasn't a shred of exaggeration in the answer, nor a moment's hesitation, and Ninomae let out a little laugh.
"Pfft. You answered way too fast."
"But I mean it."
"I know. Still, Shion-san would praise me from the heart no matter what I had on."
Seoyeon had a considerably blind side to her; even if Ninomae went around in any old rag, she would look lovely to her. Knowing that was part of why she could ask whether it suited her without much worry.
"Thank you for the gift, Shion-san. I'll wear it whenever I go out."
"Um... I do think it would be better to consider the occasion. The time, the place, and how it pairs with the rest of an outfit."
"Hehe. I know. 'Whenever' was a joke. ...But if there isn't a reason not to wear it, I'll have it on more often than not. It's a gift from you, after all."
If she treasured it, nothing would please the one who had given it more. At Ninomae's declaration, Han Seoyeon smiled faintly.
Then she cut the cake with the bread knife she had brought along on the tray. The night was late, and they had already eaten dinner; for now, just a taste, enough to mark the birthday, would do. Thinking so, the piece she cut was not particularly large.
"Let's keep the rest in the fridge and eat it little by little."
Having set the slice aside, Han Seoyeon handed Ninomae a small spoon. Ninomae took it, cut away a little of the cake, and then—
"Here, Shion-san! Aaahn—."
"M-me?"
"Who else is here? Come on."
The spoon was held out in front of Han Seoyeon's face, and she looked at Ninomae with a slightly flustered gaze.
"Surely the one whose birthday it is ought to eat first."
"Shion-san. Just be good and say 'aaahn.'"
"U-um... Yes. All right."
In the end Han Seoyeon opened her mouth and took the spoon Ninomae offered between her lips. Ninomae watched, beaming.
Only after Han Seoyeon had taken a bite did Ninomae start to scoop up cake for herself—
"Th-this would be an indirect kiss, wouldn't it...?"
—or so she meant to, until the realization struck her and she froze.
Once she became conscious of it, she grew rather embarrassed. She looked back and forth between the spoon and Han Seoyeon's lips, her cheeks reddening.
"Ah, th-that's right!"
Then she spotted the spoon that was still Han Seoyeon's, sitting on the tray, and her face lit up as if a wonderful idea had come to her.
"Shion-san."
With that, Ninomae gently closed her eyes and opened her mouth.
If the problem was that Han Seoyeon's mouth had touched her own spoon, then the reverse was simple: when she ate, she had only to use Seoyeon's. She had thought of it herself, and Ninomae laughed, triumphant, thoroughly pleased with the notion.
"......"
"......"
That this was embarrassing in its own right became clear only after Han Seoyeon, hesitating a little all the while, had already set the spoon between Ninomae's lips. In other words, they felt that something was off only once it was too late to take back. An awkward silence flowed between them once again.
"W-well, we've already done it, so it can't be helped... Yeah."
"R-right. It wasn't what I intended, but some saliva did get on it......"
In the end, the two of them took turns feeding each other cake until the piece they had cut was gone.
Whether neither of them, right to the very last bite, had truly failed to realize that they had only to trade spoons — or whether they had simply surrendered to desire and held their tongues... well. That was something only the two of them would know.