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useless-bi-otch · 1 year ago

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Cookies'n Cream - Chapter 18

Last chapter / MasterList / art by @aneenasevla

Chapter 18 - Curiosity Killed the Gorilla

"... Aaand it's sent! Now we just wait for the likes, shares and comments about how lucky I am for the company."

"My God, you really want me to kiss you here in the middle of the street, don't you? Because that's what it looks like," Tomori jokes, giving him a playful push, to which Okubo laughs. The push didn't even make him move, but it was enough of an excuse for him to place a hand on her back and leave it there, in a discreet caress. He shows her the cracked phone screen.

"Save it for when the likes start to come, lady. Then I'll feel like I've earned it," He winks, supporting her as they get off the train to the crowded station. "But there's something you can do for me right now."

"What?"

"Hold my hand so I don't lose sight of you in the middle of this crowd. You're so short that I fear you'll be swallowed by this sea of people and I'll never see you again..."

"You clown," She pats the hand he offered her. "In that case, take advantage of your privileged view and guide us out of this crowd. And tell me how the weather is there among the clouds, while you're at it. Any sign of rain?"

"Nope! Clear sky, few clouds, the first stars appearing along with the soft and pleasant tones of twilight," He looks up as they leave the station. "Perfect weather for a walk to your neighborhood. It's the first time I've followed you home on foot, now that I'm thinking about it..."

“It's a good walk until there. It's sort of part of my weekly workout, in addition to the weightlifting sessions I do at home."

“I'd love to attend a session like that one of these days,” he comments, smiling at the thought. He could give her tips, do demonstrations, tell funny experiences he had in gyms... and of course, seeing her wearing a sports bra and leggings would be a nice bonus. "I'm not exactly a trainer, but I know enough to give you some directions, if you like."

"Oh, would you look at this…," She turns her head to the side at him, smiling playfully. "First he offers to help me with baseball batting, and then to give me tips on working out. I'm starting to think this is a very well thought out scheme of yours to start a career in coaching, with me being your first attempt."

"It wouldn't be a very profitable scheme, considering that I don't charge anything more than a few kisses and a few hours in your company," He joins in the joke. "It's just that I can't get enough of how much we have in common. It makes me want to keep trying to figure out if there's something I like that you don't, and vice versa."

"Well, just ask! We've been asking questions about each other's lives, all these times we've gone out together, afterall," She smiles and, this time, she's the one who offers him her hand. "And now the opportunity is perfect, because we're going to my house. A well-reserved, non-public place, where there aren't a bunch of voices around to disturb our conversation..."

... Okay, when she put it like that, it was even easier for him to understand the size of the step they were taking.

They had gone out together a few more times after their successful second date that resulted in their first kiss, and to various other places besides the batting cages at the sports center: a walk around Shibuya, two trips to the movies, a walk through Ueno Park with riding pedal boats and even going to a maid cafe, just for the pleasure of their inside joke. All these encounters ended the same way as the original: him leaving her at the door of her house, but not before exchanging some heated kisses, which were getting longer and longer, neither wanting to say good night and goodbye. None of these times did she invite him into her home.

But now that seemed about to change, and he felt a strange rush of anxiety overwhelm him at the thought. A mixture of want and a slight fear of what that could mean for the two of them. I mean, calling your current date to your house was a lot more serious than suggesting they go get some love in a motel, wasn't it?

He wonders, rather involuntarily, if she would like him to invite her to his apartment too, in the near future. Holy shit, he'd have to give the place a good sweep before that happened, he wouldn't know where to hide his face if she saw the mess that was his place...

"Naoya...?"

He is unceremoniously roused from his reverie by her voice, calling to him with some concern. She was looking at him with one eyebrow arched, her hand still outstretched, fingers opening and closing slightly.

"Is everything okay? You looked worried all of a sudden... ooh, is it the hands?," She moved her arm away, embarrassed. "Sorry, you don't have to feel obligated to do that if you don't want to-"

"I do!," He hurries to answer, his voice a little louder than necessary, extending his hand to hold hers and prevent it from getting out of his reach. "Sorry, I started to think about some things here and got distracted..."

"Do you want to share them with me? Or would you rather keep your schemes on how to make me this generation's next model athlete a secret?"

"I would keep them secret from the public and the press, never from you, hahaha. But no, seriously... I...," He looks to the side, feeling his palms sweat. "Is this really okay? Me, going to your house...?"

"Of course it is! Why wouldn't it be?," She asks, smiling gently as if to reassure him. "I didn't invite you the other times only because we always came back a little late from dates. But now it's not even seven o'clock. It's still too early for us to say goodbye..."

He would've rocketed up if that had been humanly possible, joy making his feet light and even dancing.

"I agree! It's just that I would've brought something if I'd known. A souvenir, as the custom demands..."

"You already gave me too many souvenirs, hahaha! Enough flowers for me to open my own flower shop, remember?," She jokes, lightly hitting the side of her hip on his thigh, which was what she could reach from that height. "Now I'm the one who wants to reciprocate. What do you think about eating a savory dish of mine for a change?"

"Wow, I'm in! I mean, I've already eaten sandwiches made by you at the bakery, but not a real dinner," He smiles openly, and unconsciously puts a hand on his belly. "Just thinking about it makes me hungry, damn it..."

“And after you tell me that, do you really expect me to let you go willingly? A cook's life's mission is to feed others, especially those she cares about!," She raises a fist with determination, and he chuckles softly.

"You sound like Sanji from One Piece when you talk like that, hahaha! Who's your favorite Straw Hat?," He asks excitedly, but this excitement wanes a little before the slightly embarrassed smile she opens.

"Uh… Chopper, I guess…? I don't know, I haven't watched One Piece since highschool..."

"Oh, I see… sorry, it's just that I'm such a nerd…," He scratches the back of his head, now just as embarrassed. "The girls I've gone out with were always bored with my conversations. I end up forgetting that this is not really your thing..."

"Hey, you're stereotyping again," She points at him with an indignant pout. "I'm not really into manga and anime, but it's not because I'm a woman. Kanny herself loves One Piece, you know?"

"Really? Damn, I'd like chatting with her about it if she wasn't hating me right now..."

"You can chat about it with me. It's not because I'm not a fan that I wouldn't want to hear you talking about your interests," She squeezes his hand to reassure him. "Seriously, we don't need to have absolutely everything in common. It's actually good that we don't, so we discover new things that we might like."

"Heh… you're right," He intertwines his fingers with hers, smiling again, now more relieved. "And I tell you the same, okay? You can talk to me about the things you like, not just martial arts and baseball."

"Heh, I hope you don't get bored..."

“You'll be amazed at how open-minded I can be. Let's have a chat about women's interests. For example, if you prefer to get a Helsa skirt or Swarovski crystal earrings..."

"Hell no, forget about it! I'm serious, don't laugh! Ugh, you big meathead...!," She punches him in the arm, to which he throws his head back with a thunderous laugh. "I think I'd rather get a box of those chocolates again than that..."

"Noted! I'll bring one with at least half a kilo of chocolate next time...just kidding!," He exclaims when she gives him a threatening look. "But seriously, I promise I'll listen to you when you want to talk about your interests too. I'm really curious now..."

"We can talk better over dinner. It'll take a little while to be rady, but we can do other things while we wait. You've never seen the inside of my house, for example," She comments, a little thoughtful. "It's kinda funny to think that Rihito has been there, but you haven't."

"Yeah, he made a point of throwing that in my face a few weeks ago," Okubo snorts grumpily. And he arches an eyebrow when she sees Tomori getting suddenly tense . "What is it?"

“Did he… tell you about my interior decorating choices?”

"Uh… if you're talking about the posters in the living room, he did tell me," He nods after thinking a bit. "But I'm not someone to dictate how you should decorate your house, Tomori. And again, I don't judge your tastes... if you promise not to judge my Ultraman posters if you visit my apartment one day, haha."

"I won't, I promise," She laughs, a little calmer. And then thinks better about what he said, blushing a little. "But would you do that? Invite me to your apartment, I mean..."

"Sure, why not? It's only fair," He nods excitedly. "Then I can show you my trophy room, my reading room, my consoles... I just think we'd have to order a pizza at dinner time, because my fridge has seen fuller days , haha ha!"

"I'm starting to think that the questionable diet of single men isn't necessarily an unfounded stereotype," She jokes, and then points, "Oh, we're already around the corner! I think that was the fastest walk I've ever taken from the station to here..."

"Yeah, I didn't even notice the path I took either," He comments, a little surprised. It was amazing how time seemed to fly by when he was with Tomori. He would've moaned about it in another situation, but not now. They didn't have to say goodbye on her doorstep. They would still have many hours together from now on.

"Hopefully, we'll have all night."

The thought filled him with a rush to get to her house, and he tried to contain it. Why bother if the night has already been won? And any extra time with her was a win, whatever they were doing.

They are soon through the automatic gates, stepping onto the stone path that leads to the porch. The overhead light came on, and she smiled at him.

"Before we go inside, I want to start our little ritual."

He blinks, confused. "Ritual? What ritual-"

She interrupts him by raising her right hand, hooking her fingers in the fabric of his shirt, and making him duck with a small tug. Their mouths meet, and soon Okubo's initial astonishment is replaced by an almost euphoric satisfaction. Hell, in what universe would he deny her a kiss? He reciprocates promptly, one hand automatically going to her back as hers rest on his shoulders. Soon the contact gets a little more intense, and he finds himself pulling her off the ground with a hug. She holds on to him more firmly so she doesn't lose her balance, asking for more by touching his lips with her tongue, and he obliges with an enthusiasm that made her chuckle softly.

Damn, seeing his excitement being so well received did lots of good to his self-esteem, as well as his libido. And if that meant that she wanted it as much as he did... dammit, then the dessert that came after that dinner would be the best he'd ever tasted!

They finally pull away when the need for oxygen becomes impossible to ignore, panting softly and looking into each other's eyes. He puts her down slowly, and she gives him one last peck before smiling at him.

"Just for luck..."

"Believe me, I'm feeling very lucky right now," He jokes, his voice husky. "Best ritual I've ever done. I think it's good that we always do this from now on, so that luck never ends."

“Never wasting time, not in the octagons or out of them.” She laughs softly, squeezing his hand one last time before digging through her purse for something. She takes out the keys and unlocks the door, leaving it open for him to enter right behind her. "Leave your shoes by the door, please."

"Alright," He nods, muttering an 'excuse me' and giving a quick bow before taking off his shoes and entering, having to bend down a little to do it. He busies himself with observing his surroundings while Tomori leaves her purse in the coat rack next to the door.

After walking down a long corridor, they arrive in the small living room of what was the interior of a typical middle-class residence, with enough space to accommodate a couple without children or a small family. For a single woman who lived on her own, that should be more than enough, he supposed. It was in a slightly more western style, which was common in Tokyo's newer residential areas. Two sofas, one small and one medium, with a tea table in the center on a cream-colored rug, and against the wall, a television on a wooden cabinet. In the center of the table was a vase, and inside it, the daisies, gerberas and gladioli that he had given her a few days ago; seeing that she was taking care of the flowers made him immensely happy.

Separated from the living room by a counter was the kitchen, also small but looking professionally equipped; nothing more than expected for a chef. The dining table was also small, but that would only make the diner even more intimate. He saw other vases with more flowers there, adding color to the room. The stairs in the corner must lead to the upper floor where the bedrooms and bathroom were.

In general, it would be an absolutely normal residence if it weren't for one detail: the posters of different sizes on the walls, some glued, others framed like photographs. They were all from fighters he either knew personally or had seen in action on television or the internet. Sekibayashi's was one of those privileged enough to be framed, as was Gaolang's. The twinge of jealousy that hit him was short-lived, however; it was enough time for him to notice his own poster, also framed, striking a victorious pose while displaying the championship belt around his waist.

"Uh... so...?," Tomori suddenly asks, arms crossed, seeming to want to look at everything but him. "I know it's a bit exaggerated and that it looks more like a teenager's bedroom than the living room of an grown woman's house..."

"I haven't seen too many teenage bedrooms or too many grown women's living rooms to make a comparison," He jokes, scratching the back of his head with a low chuckle. "Honestly? From what Rihito said, I was expecting something much more 'hall of fame-ish', if you know what I mean, hahaha!"

"If my living room was something of that level, I'd have to charge you visitation," She jokes too, smiling sheepishly. "So… you don't mind?"

"It's not like I have the right to, come on," He shrugs calmly. "Again, it's your house, Tomori. And honestly, there are fewer posters than I was expecting."

This ends up making her laugh, her shoulders shaking. "What? Were you expecting to see my living room walls completely covered in posters, to the point where you couldn't even see their colors?"

"Hey, hey, my informant was Rihito, and you've met enough of him to know how he's always adding tails to his tales," He justifies himself, and it's his turn to be embarrassed. "No, seriously, your place's nice. Tidier than mine, that's for sure. And you have good taste in idols, no denying," He points to his own poster, arching an eyebrow. "Who's the hunk over there? Do I need to see him as a rival for your affections or something?"

She laughs out loud this time, even though she's still blushing. "Nah, no need to! Not anymore, anyway," She looks at the poster, her eyes softening. "He used to be an idea I had in my head, you know. The idea of someone who would be a source of admiration and inspiration personified, like Seki, Gaolang and many others. Someone far above, out of my reach. But what I'm seeing in front of me now...," She looks at him over her shoulder. "This someone is someone I can laugh with, joke with and talk to, someone I can touch, hug and kiss... so I prefer him much, much more."

Okubo can only stare at her, dumbfounded, his plans to make fun of her over her former idolization of him going down the drain in a way he couldn't have foreseen. Again, she left him speechless without even trying very hard to.

That was probably one of the things that would never change about their relationship, no matter how deep it got. And after that, he wanted anything but that to change.

He moves before he knows it, and Tomori gasps as he takes her in his arms, lifting her off the ground again to reach her mouth, in a kiss even more intense than the one they exchanged on the porch. She hugs him around the neck to steady herself, reciprocating with a low, long sigh, and Okubo shudders as she wraps her legs around his waist. He automatically holds her tighter, not wanting to move an inch away from her.

Holy shit… if it continued at this rate, they'd end up skipping dinner. He blamed that adorable creature who could wrap a grown man almost twice her size around her little finger for that. He wanted so badly to take her to the bedroom, or who knows, to lay her down on that couch and give her the treatment she deserved...

“Not with all these posters around staring at you, dipshit!”

Shit, the posters… he suddenly felt very aware of the dead stares of the fighters depicted on the walls, especially those he knew on a personal level. It was ridiculous, but it seemed to be the same principle as a religious person refusing to do something sinful in front of a representation of the deity they worshiped. As if Sekibayashi, Gaolang and all the others were watching his performance and judging him.

And with that thought, his excitement died pretty quickly. Hey, maybe he had found the ideal method to get rid of morning wood!

"Hnnn...," He murmurs low against her lips, giving it one last lick before pulling his face away to breathe. "And he's also enjoying doing all these things with you. He wants to do so much more. And he's feeling really stupid for talking about himself in third person."

Tomori laughs, leaning her forehead against his. "I think that's cute of him… okay, okay, I'll stop," She promises when he huffs. "But seriously, I had imagined that you'd be uncomfortable seeing your own face on my living room wall. Maybe I shouldn't have hung the poster up there again..."

"Then I would be offended that there is no tribute to me on the living room walls of my number one fan!," He snorts, but his tone remains playful. "I'm used to seeing my own face on television, on magazine covers and on the street screens in Shibuya. But… this one's definitely not one of my best angles,” He scowls at the poster.

"Why not? This is the portrait of the moment when you were enshrined as the first Japanese to become Ultimate Fight's heavyweight champion! It's glorious," She snaps back in mock outrage, whereupon he sets her down to place his hands on his hips.

"Yeah, but not in this picture! Look how the light hits my head," He points. "The sweat makes it look like a disco ball... yeah, laugh at the bald man, very empathetic of you," He snorts as he watches her bend over herself a bit, wiping a tear of laughter from one eye.

"S-Sorry, but it's hard to empathize with someone who is bald by choice. And anyway, that's your opinion. I really like this poster and I think you look great in it," She pats the frame, smiling excitedly. "It's the result of all the sweat and tears you've shed to get to where you are, a slap in the face to all who doubted you, an irrefutable proof of how right you were when you said that the defeatism of the Japanese martial arts leagues was nothing more than underdog syndrome, excuses from those who talk a lot and do little!"

Okubo can't resist, laughing happily. "Damn, I've missed those passionate speeches of yours about me, hahaha! But seriously, it's really nice to see someone who positively interpreted the crap I said in that documentary..."

"It wasn't crap! ... Okay, maybe that final jab of yours was unnecessary," She admits after thinking a little. "It was by far what made people be mad at you the most in those days."

"Yeah, it's kinda unforgettable when cancel culture bites you in the butt fot the first time, hehehe!"

"And he even takes pride in it, my god…," She laughs along with him. "But in general, I agreed with everything you said in that documentary. In fact...," She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly shy. "It was after watching it that I found the motivation to change my life."

Okubo stops smiling, surprise and curiosity taking over his features. "Change your life…? Oh, are you talking about your delinquent phase?"

"Well, yes, in a way... oh, but if we were to talk about it now, we'd going to be here in the living room all night and dinner would never get ready!," She suddenly claps her hands together, rubbing them afterwards. "We can talk better while we eat, how about that?"

“Uh… sure, that's fine with me.” He nods, taken aback, but dammit, how could he refuse food when she was the one offering it? "Want some help? I'm no chef like you, but I can cut and wash some vegetables, I don't know."

"Well, since you're offering...," She nods, smiling "Just wash your hands first, please. The bathroom is upstairs."

"Yes ma'am!," He salutes, eliciting an affectionate eye roll from her before she turns and heads for the kitchen. He climbs the stairs to the upper floor, which consisted of a long corridor, with two doors on the left and one on the right.

Now... which of the three was the entrance to the bathroom? Damn, she hadn't told him which door was the right one. Maybe it was the first... but for who's going up the stairs or for who's going down? And why was he making a fuss about something so stupid?!

"You're afraid of accidentally walking into her room... which is pretty stupid considering your night will end there."

The thought lifted his confidence a little. Heck, if he missed the door on the first try, he could just close it and try again. He does so, choosing the lone door on the right.

It wasn't the bathroom, but it didn't look like a bedroom either, as there wasn't a bed in there. In the dim light from the hallway, he thought for a second that it was a spare room being used as a storage room. There were boxes stacked in a corner, rectangular white objects propped against them. They looked like... canvases?

Okubo couldn't help his curiosity and groped along the wall until he found a switch. The room lit up, and he found himself in front of what looked like a small crafts room. At least that's what he assumed when he saw himself in front of the painted canvases propped up in the boxes, the small shelf partially filled with colored pencils, graphite, brushes and a few paint pots, a desk with piles of papers full of doodles and a easel, right in the center of the room.

And there were pictures too. Not wall posters of fighters this time, but framed photographs, attached to a magnetic photo board or in frames that filled the other half of the shelf. Many were from people he had never seen before, but who bore enough resemblance to Tomori that he assumed they were her family: an older couple, who must’ve been her parents, and a younger man accompanied by a woman of the same age; probably her brother and sister-in-law.

But his interest was entirely focused on the photos where she appeared, especially the older ones. There he found familiar faces: Tomori with Kanami and Hiro, the three of them looking like they were in their teens (holy shit, was it just him or did Kanami used to be chubby when she was younger? Those extra pounds definitely weren't the muscles he saw). They appeared in a lot of those photos, at the most varied times. And in many of them, there was another girl with them, with tanned skin and curly, dyed blonde hair. She appeared with only Tomori in several photos, one of which depicted both of them wearing school uniforms.

And what captured his curiosity the most about these older photos was that in almost all of them, Tomori's hair wasn't wavy and brown, but straight and black. So that current hue and texture was unnatural? Damn, he'd never have guessed just by looking...

Just as he never would've guessed that she was an amateur artist. He didn't explore the room more and peek at her work only because it would be tremendously impolite. But he might ask when he returned downstairs. He turns off the light and closes the door slowly, not sure if he feels more guilty for snooping or curious about what he's seen.

He tries the first door on the left this time, and luckily it was a bathroom; a room with three sections, consisting of the tiny laundry room, the toilet and sink area, and the shower and bath area, all separated by thin walls. The bathtub seemed small, and he found himself thinking sadly that it would be next to impossible for the two of them to be able to bathe together there. Well, the bathtub in his apartment was big enough for both of them, so that was all the more reason for him to invite her over there one of these days.

He turns on the faucet and washes his hands, taking the opportunity to check his reflection in the mirror. He looked presentable, but dammit, he'd only taken a quick shower in the morning before accompanying his friends to Kazuo's office, and from there he'd taken two walks, one to the bakery and the other to Tomori's house. Did he not smell of sweat? And what about his breath after eating? Maybe he should at least use the mouthwash right there in the sink, or take off his shirt and give his armpits a quick wash with soap just in case. The mood would sour pretty quickly if he smelled bad...

He suddenly feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He hadn't asked her for her Wi-Fi password, so his mobile data must still be on. He dries his hands and checks his messages. There were some from Rihito, in their group chat.

Mr_Iron_Fingers:

just to let you know, @EggHead, we're in kaneda's place

we couldn't resist, biohazard 8 was calling us with siren songs

sorry, we'll do another game night with ya on a free day

Okubo rolls his eyes, but the truth is, he wasn't exactly upset. He had no right to demand that his friends not have fun without him. But he was glad to know they were at least considerate enough to let him know.

EggHead:

no worries man

tell me what games he has there later

enjoy the night on your side and I’ll enjoy in mine lol

Mr_Iron_Fingers:

i wasn't expecting you to answer now

what, she couldn't stand your smell and told you to wash it off first?

Hahahaha

EggHead:

fuck you dude lol

she's making dinner and I'm going to help

did ur mom never teach you that you can’t have dessert before dinner?

have some manners

Mr_Iron_Fingers:

lmao you worthless pervert

yeah, gorge yourself on dinner and then go eat the hell of that dessert

just be careful not to fall mouth first in her plushies by accident lol

EggHead:

???

the fuck you mean?

what plushies?

have some respect you fucker

talking about her lady bits like that

Mr_Iron_Fingers:

LMAO

what lady bits

fuckin dumbass

i'm talkin about stuffed animals lol

EggHead:

ooooh

okay i got it now

but seriously, what plushies?

Mr_Iron_Fingers:

and you still ask

she is all cute, girly-girl and shit

i'm pretty sure her bed must be full of that stuff

Okubo frowns. The mental image that those words painted... he shivers a little. Damn, that sounded so wrong!

EggHead:

wait, you really think so?

fuckin hell...

when it’s not one thing, it’s another

Mr_Iron_Fingers:

are you going to let that slow you down?

going limp over stuffed animals is the last fuckin straw LOL

I wouldn't give a single fuck

EggHead:

it's easy for you to say talk!

you're not the one who will have one knee on the mattress and the other on top of Mockey!

Mr_Iron_Fingers:

LMAOOOOOO I'M GONNA PISS IN MY PANTS

Gigolo:

holy shit dude

rihito hollered for the entire building to hear

i even came to see what it is, let me read it

LMAOOOO

it's the my little pony squad getting in the way of egghead's dick weting session xD

Mr_Iron_Fingers:

ROTFL

again, i wouldn't give a shit

but go check it for yourself to be sure

GiantKiller:

oh my xD

but go check it?

are you talking about him going to snoop on her room??

this is wrong on so many levels!

Mr_Iron_Fingers:

it’s just for conscience relief man!

that way he doesn’t get scared and goes all limp-dick in the worst time possible

GiantKiller:

it's still wrong

if it bothers you so much, Okubo, see if there isn’t another more appropriate place for it

EggHead:

there's another room

a crafts room it seems

she's apparently an amateur artist, can you believe that?

it's full of art supplies like canvases, pencils, brushes, even an easel

Gigolo:

we know

miss uta told kaneda and I that she likes to paint and illustrate

EggHead:

WHAT??!

WHEN???

GiantKiller:

on wednesday before the sunday rihito went to talk to her

himuro tought she might like it, considering she likes doing cookie art

she confirmed it when he asked

EggHead:

and why didn't you fuckin tell me anything???

you had information like that laying around and you didn’t think about sharing it with me??

Gigolo:

what difference does that make now?

EggHead:

it makes a difference because I could've bought her a gift based on that!

fucking hell dude

Mr_Iron_Fingers:

lmao cry me a river

no, cry her a river, preferably on her bed

EggHead:

that's exactly what i'm gonna do

fuck the plushies, and fuck you guys too

fair weather friends

Gigolo:

LMAOOO dude's fuckin pissed

you guys are good again, you're on her house and you're about to get laid

the fuck you complaining about?

GiantKiller:

and thanks to us, by the way

don't be ungrateful, Okubo

AND DON'T GO SNOOPING INTO HER ROOM

EggHead:

okay, okay, my bad

thanks you bastards

and I need to at least prepare myself for what i'm gonna see, kaneda

i'll just open her bedroom door, I won’t even go in

GiantKiller:

for god's sake

at least be discreet

don’t go through her drawers or anything

EggHead:

dude i won't touch anything

i'm not rihito

Mr_Iron_Fingers:

man fuck you

i'm a bit of a pervert, but i'm not a sicko

EggHead:

yeah, right

anyway, i'll be off now

she must be wondering why i'm taking so long, i won’t keep her waiting

see ya

Okubo puts his phone away again, cursing under his breath. Damn Rihito for putting absurd mental images in his head that didn't help his arousal at all. How the hell was he supposed to perform in a room full of cuddly plushies, staring at him with those beaded eyes exuding innocence and motherly disapproval?!

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. If so, he'd have to swallow his discomfort, for Tomori's sake. He really had no right to complain about her decorating choices. And anyway, spending that time with her, showing how much he wanted things between them to work out and go forward, showing how important she had become to him; all of that was worth far more than his attempts to protect his fragile ego.

He leaves the bathroom, slowly closing the door behind him, before facing the only other door left. It could only be her room. And to peek into such an intimate room without the hostess's permission was despicable, worthy of a clueless pervert...

“I won't touch anything. I won't even go in. I'll just open the door and turn on the light, nothing more...”

With that promise to himself, he goes to the door, gripping the handle and holding his breath before slowly opening it. The room was dark, the light from the hallway only partially illuminating it. He could see a single bed, a desk with a computer, stationery and a couple of framed pictures, a bookcase and... his own face?

Okubo blinks. He gropes along the wall, finding the switch and turning on the light. And what he saw made him wish that the room was full of plushies instead of... that.

There were posters of fighters everywhere. The walls almost disappeared beneath them. They were of all different sizes, some small enough to have been cut out of magazines, and others huge, almost the width of the door itself. His was in a prominent position, just above the desk, and Sekibayashi's and Gaolang's flanked him as if they belonged to a boy band of muscleheads. And there were so many others, most his acquaintances, some even his rivals inside the octagons, and many of them looked old, worn, portraying younger versions of themselves.

All those shirtless, sometimes sweaty men flexing and showing off their impressive muscles, their expressions either triumphant or livid as if they were about to pounce on their opponent... all those dead gazes directed at the bed in the corner of the room...

If a turn-off was capable of producing sounds, his at that moment would have made the classic Pac-Man death sound. How the fuck would he be able to do anything inside that sanctuary which seemed to be dedicated to everything virile and gay?!

He quickly turns off the light and closes the door with an expression of someone who was suffering with PTSD. He swallows hard, sweating a little, his brain trying to register the scene he had just witnessed, the hemisphere responsible for rationality trying to convince him that it wasn't that bad, he could ignore it, he just needed to be on top of her and to not look at the fucking posters...!

But the other hemisphere, which was responsible for all the neurotic fantasies that had been curdling his thoughts lately, told him that, in the missionary position, Sekibayashi, Gaolang and all those others would have a very privileged view of his ass.

Okubo buries his face in his left hand, groaning hard, wanting to slam his forehead against the wall, as much to punish himself as to forget what he had just seen. Why the hell did he open that door?! That's what he got for sticking his nose where it didn't belong! Curiosity killed the cat, or in this case, the gorilla.

"Naoya?," He hears Tomori calling from downstairs. "Is everything okay up there? Do you need help with something?"

He shudders, clearing his throat quickly to make his voice as normal as possible before replying, “Uuh- no, it's okay! It's just that I received a few messages and decided to reply right away, so no notifications would disturbed us..."

"Oh, okay! I've already laid out the ingredients here on the counter if you're ready to start."

"Alright!," He goes down the stairs, trying to think of something, anything, to use as an excuse to book it. He wouldn't be able to do anything in that disturbing room, not even if he took a few blue bombers like an old man. It wouldn't happen in the living room either, and he didn't want their first time to be in the kitchen either...

Hell, it didn't take a genius to know that nothing was going to happen that night! The best thing was for him to leave, for him to find any excuse to take the road, because otherwise he would only be wasting Tomori's time. Maybe he could come up with some sort of emergency? He's trying to come up with one that sounds convincing enough when he walks into the kitchen. Tomori lifts her head and smiles excitedly at him.

"Look! I checked the fridge and saw that I had all the ingredients to make ginger pork," She points to a meat board on the kitchen counter, where there were pork strips, still raw. "I know it's not very elaborate or sophisticated, but I guarantee you that my ginger pork is delicious! Can you help me with the onions? The ginger is in that little jar with the blue cap," She makes a cute little happy sound. "I'm so excited to show you how I cook! I'm even getting a little nervous, hahaha..."

... Okubo felt like the worst person in the world, not worthy of that woman who was too good to be true.

How could he even think of running away from her house and letting her down, all because he'd paid the price for snooping? She deserved better treatment than that. Hell, she deserved all the best he could give her, even if the night wasn't going to end with them in a bed!

He wanted to stay there with her. He wanted to cook dinner with her, eat with her, talk, laugh, watch tv, anything. More physical things could be for later, and preferably far away from the homosexual sanctuary that was that room.

"Ahaha, what are you even saying? I'm the one who should be excited," He approaches, trying to smile. "After all, I'm going to see my favorite cook in action, besides being able to learn from her."

"You're a sweetheart, but you won't escape helping in the kitchen with just a few smooth words."

"And who said I want to escape it? Guide me through your kingdom of meats, vegetables and spices, miss, you'll have the privilege of having me as your humble follower again," He gestures to the whole kitchen with a sweeping wave of his arm. Tomori laughs, opening a drawer and pulling out a baby blue apron.

"With pleasure. Here, you'll need it," She throws him the apron, laughing again when he makes a face. "Relax, I promise it will be our secret. And look, we're matching!," She shows her own apron, which Okubo recognized as the one she wore in the selfie she sent him weeks ago.

"How cheesy... you're lucky I like cheesy things in secrecy," He jokes, putting on the apron just to appease her. It had frills and looked tiny on him. He snorts when she smirks at the sight, "Next time I'll bring my own apron."

"Heh… good to know there will be a next time," She comments smiling as she hands him another knife. "Cut the onions like this, into thin slices. And don't worry, they're ice cold so they won't sting your eyes."

"Really?"

"Yeah! Just leave them in the freezer for ten minutes and the enzymes that trigger the gas that causes burning are not activated," She explains excitedly. "Cool, right?"

"Wow, I didn't know that!," He comments, impressed, trying to cut the onions in the thickness she asked. "You're really knowledged in cooking stuff..."

"I have a degree in gastronomy for a reason," She sticks out her chest a little, in a gesture of personal pride that he found adorable. "Although this particular trick I learned from my mother. She cooks really well too."

"I can imagine. Was it because of her that you decided to pursue this career?," He asks, and she seems to think for a few seconds, looking up.

"Hnnn… yeah, in parts," She finally replies. "I liked to cook with her since I was a little girl. She was happy, saying I was going to be an excellent cook in the future. And an excellent wife," She smiles with embarrassment. "But I just liked doing things in the kitchen, seeing the happy expressions of those who ate my food and hearing compliments. I had other aspirations at the time..."

"Like art?," He asks before he manages to stop himself, and flinches a little when she looks at him with some surprise.

"Huh? ... Oh, you... you know that I...?"

"Yeah, I… I kinda accidentally saw your crafts room," He admits, a little embarrassed. "I was looking for the bathroom and opened the wrong door by mistake."

She blinks, looking even more surprised. "Oh… I was thinking that Himuro and Kaneda had told you that I liked painting and illustrating, since I had mentioned it to them before."

... Ouch. His big-ass mouth: one. Subtlety: zero. It was just like him to rattle and get himself into trouble when he could very well have gotten away with it if he'd just kept quiet. He shrinks further.

"Sorry, it was an accident..."

"No, it's okay," She assured, waving the hand that held the knife. "It was my fault, I forgot to tell you which door was the right one. And there's nothing extremely personal or embarrassing about that room that makes it a no-go zone for visitors, hahaha!"

He laughed along with her, because at this point, laughing was preferable to screaming hysterically and looking like a lunatic.

"Hehe, if- if you say so... but seriously, I really didn't know that you liked to draw and paint. And I guess I should've guessed, considering your cookies are a work of art."

"Awn, thanks!," She blushes with pleasure at the compliment. "I thought about majoring in visual arts in college, but my parents protested so much that I gave up. They're afraid I wouldn't get a good job and good references on my CV... yeah, I know, they sound controlling," She nods when she sees his sympathetic expression. "They even tried to push me to study law, medicine or architecture, which was the major my brother chose. But I put my foot down and refused. Today they mellowed down and now they respect my decisions more, even if they don't approve very much."

"At least that…," He ends up shrugging, finishing cutting the onion and picking up the ginger. "My parents didn't care much about my choices. I got drafted on my school's wrestling team as soon as I started the school year, and that guaranteed me a shitload of opportunities, so they had nothing to complain about. It sucks that you didn't have that same support..."

"It's okay, I don't regret the choices I made," She guarantees, picking up a bottle that looked like sake, from a corner of the counter. "I love working as a cook, and the salary allows me to keep art as a hobby. I mean, as far as acceptable, it's not enough for me to buy the best materials there is, but it's something."

"In that case I'm happy for you, haha… and I swear I wasn't snooping aroung there, I just saw the canvases!," He swears, a bit agitated. "I just paid attention to the photos…"

"Oh yes, those photos…," She takes the board with the chopped onions that he held out to her, starting to brown them in the frying pan. "They were supposed to be displayed in the living room, or at least in my bedroom. But there, in my crafts room, they give me inspiration and motivation. And they remind me of how things have changed since then."

"Hehe, and how they changed… I learned a lot of new things about you just by looking at those photos," He comments, calmer now that he made sure she wasn’t offended by his accidental snooping. "I didn’t know that you dyed your hair. It's not a criticism at all, this color looks great on you."

"Huh?," She stops in the act of pouring a trickle of sake into the frying pan, staring at him confused. "But I didn't. This is my natural color."

"Uh... wait, really?," It's his turn to be confused. "But I saw some pothos from your school days, and your hair was straight and black..."

"Ooh…," She nods slowly, embarrassed. "Got it. But yeah... that was my dyed, straightened hair," She explains, smiling, embarrassed by his surprise. "My school was the strict type, very inflexible with its rules. And I needed to suit the standards."

"Damn, man…," He shakes his head, indignant. "Are you serious that there are schools that still do these things? That's messed up... but wait," He frowns. "There was a friend of yours in those photos giving the biggest gyaru vibes, with her tanned skin, bleached hair and all. Didn't the school forbid that too?"

"Ooh, are you talking about Akane?," Tomori lets out a vengeful laugh. "They did, but she didn't give a fuck. They threatened her with suspension and even expulsion several times, but the threats never went ahead. She was well connected and the school board was scared shitless of her dad and his 'friends', hahaha!"

"Holy shit, I don't even want to ask… but Akane? Isn't that your friend whose number Rihito wants so bad?," Okubo's eyes widen. "Boy, he really doesn't know what he's getting himself into..."

"I told you, didn't I?," She smiles devilishly. "Anyway, she's been my best friend since high school. I was hanging out with her even before I met Kanny and Hiro. She went through a delinquent phase along with me. We used to terrorize that school. Good times, hehehe..."

"Damn, you weren't joking about that delinquent phase, eh. I've got your number," He laughs, disbelieved. "But I don't have any room to judge, as I did the same thing. I just didn't expect this to be one of the many things we have in common, haha."

Tomori lowers her head a little, eyes fixed as she tends to the frying pan where the onions are browning. She then dips the pork strips into the spiced mixture, stirring vigorously, the flames fanned by the cooking sake, which Okubo is a little nervous about. He even takes a step back.

"H-Hey, sorry, I promise I won't meddle anymore, you don't have to try to intimidate me with pyromania techniques, hahaha...!"

"What- no, that's not it," She shakes her head quickly, taking the frying pan away from the heat. "I'm not mad, I'm just…," She hesitates a little, looking up at him shyly. "I'm just wondering if it changes something for you. In the way you see me, I mean..."

This makes Okubo relax, though not completely. His expression softens as he moves closer again, his expression a little more serene.

"I already said it don't. Again, this is you, isn't it? It's just that I was really curious about what you told me just now... about the things I said in that documentary getting you through that phase," He scratches the back of his head, sort of forgetting that his hands were full of onion bits. "Was that time so complicated for you? For you to think that talking more about it will make me think less of you..."

She sighs a little, closing her eyes briefly. She turns her attention back to the frying pan, and for a second, Okubo thought she was going to ignore him and signal with her silence that the subject was closed. That is until she starts talking.

"It's complicated because, now that I think back, it seems so ridiculous and childish… although at fifteen or sixteen, you're expected to be ridiculous and childish," She gives a humorless laugh "Remember I said I had other aspirations? So... when I was younger, I wanted to become a professional fighter."

"What? Seriously?," He leans towards her, his eyes widening even more. "And why didn't this dream of yours go ahead? I remember that I asked you that day at the market why you didn't learn some martial art..."

"Yeah, you asked. And I couldn't answer you," She nods. "The truth is that I tried to learn, in the last year of middle school. You know how much I am passionate about martial arts, it runs in the family and comes from way back, when I was a little girl... so I decided that I wanted to be part of this world that I loved so much. I begged and begged my parents until they agreed to let me practice judo at a dojo that accepted women. The girls in my class were about my age, and I was super excited. I thought I was going to make a bunch of friends, that I was going to become a judoka like no other, that my fighting career was going to take off... until the third class, where I gave up, bawling my eyes out because my shoulders were killing me after being thrown mercilessly onto the mat by the other girls during practice.

"... Oh," Okubo hisses a little through clenched teeth, sounding pious. "Yeah, judo is no joke, whether for guys or gals. But you could’ve tried with another style, like jiu-jitsu. It's actually a well-recommended martial art for women.

"I know, but my bad experience on that first attempt kinda broke my spirit. The truth is, Naoya, I'm a freaking coward. I hate getting hurt and feeling pain. I hate getting beaten," She gives a mortified smile. "Which is kinda absurd, considering I was always getting into fights in high school. I think anger was a tremendous fuel."

"You're not a coward! Holy shit, how can someone who faced a whole gang of brats like you did be a coward?," He protests indignantly. She shakes her head.

"Having a survival instinct is not the same as being brave. And thinking that I wasn't brave enough to live that childhood dream of mine saddened me to the point of making me go down a bad pathç She turns her head to the side, unable to hold his gaze. "That and several other factors, such as the demands from my parents, my envy of my brother who was a model student and the star of his high school baseball club, how they saw me as inadequate because of things that weren't my fault, like the color and texture of my hair. .. all of this kind of threw me into a self-destructive spiral. I skipped classes, hung out with people who were no good, got into fights... the worst of them was when I fought with another girl over a boy, can you believe it?," She makes a face, the corners of her mouth quivering in a clear attempt to hold back laughter. "We were both liking the same guy, and you know how teenagers are… holy shit, it was a hell of a catfight! I even hit her in the face with a baseball bat, I almost got expelled from school afterwards, hahaha!

"Holy fuck, woman...," Okubo stares at her open-mouthed; the mental image that that brought was too surreal for him to be able to register properly. "I'm glad you weren't armed the night I pissed you off! You were going to leave me scarred for life, just like this girl must’ve been!"

"Yeah, now you know what I'm capable of," She says, half joking, half serious. "But relax, she's fine, and nowadays we're the best of friends. It's not just you fighters who make friends after beating each other up, see?," She made a V with the fingers of her free hand. "Anyway… that time was very difficult for me. I knew that my parents were worried and disappointed, I knew that my fame was spreading, that if I continued like that my life would be over, but I didn't have the heart to try to change, to improve... until I watched your interview, in that documentary."

She finishes frying the meat, turning off the heat and turning to face him. Okubo feels a strange shiver run up his spine at the sight of her intense expression, the glint in her eyes that almost made them look teary, the slight flush that colored her cheeks. Something small flapped against the wall of his stomach.

"You spoke about your belief that race has no influence on a person's ability to be good at something with so much conviction! You said you were good and would prove it to the whole world, and so many people doubted you. So many people accused you of being arrogant, of being a loudmouth with a giant ego, there were even some westerners being racist pieces of shit on the forums. And none of that shook you, none of that stopped you from going out there and proving them all wrong," She clenches her fists against her chest, her voice getting louder, heated, passionate. "It was your dedication, pure and simple, that got you where no other Japanese has gone. You told all those idiots to shut up and watch you fly, and you did! I could only remember everyone telling me that I was a disappointment, a troublemaker, that I was never going to amount to anything in life... and that's when I found the strength to do like you and prove that all of them were wrong about me. I could grow up, be someone, fly like you did! And if I couldn't be a fighter... then I was going to show all my love and admiration for the martial arts by supporting fighters with all my might, cheering with every victory, taking that energy you exude and using it to chase after dreams I knew I could achieve. And that's why I love everything that involves the world of martial arts. Because this world gave me the strength to fight for myself, even if not in the same way that you do."

She stops talking at last, breathing a little hard, taking in his dumbfounded expression. And then she turns very red, playing with her fingers shyly while giggling in embarrassment.

"Ahaha, I'm sorry, I talked much! When I get excited about something, it's hard to shut up..."

But she didn't didn't know that, for Okubo, it was okay. Because the last thing he wanted was for her to shut up.

He remembered when he first met her, how sweet and adorable he found her, a delicate flower that seemed to be the kind of woman he always wanted as an arm candy; a pretty thing for him to display at press conferences as one of his trophies. A time that felt like it was ages ago instead of just over two months ago. And two months was enough to find out how wrong he was about her. And how glad he was that he was wrong.

She said how his words, spoken in that documentary, had swept her away. But she had no idea how enraptured he felt by her at that moment, by the intense passion in her voice, in her convictions, how he wanted her to keep talking because he loved that iron strength behind all the silk, loved the bravery she doubted she possessed, loved how she managed to be fierce without losing her sweetness, loved everything about her, he loved her...

... Oh. Ooh, shit. He was fucked, wasn't he? Holy crap...

... And at the same time it felt so obvious and so, so wonderful to be fucked like that, because of her. How could it not be? As he looked at her face flushed with embarrassment, the hue not fading even as she rattled on, he couldn't think of anyone who was easier to love.

He never had the slightest chance to resist it, right from the start. And for the first time since becoming a professional fighter, with a name and a reputation to uphold, he didn't feel the slightest urge to resist, either. Falling in love with her was easy, it felt good, and he wouldn't try to fight that feeling.

He just didn't know if it was mutual. And how was he going to explain to Rihito, Himuro and Kaneda that this was no longer a simple attempt to get a laid, which was no longer his priority. Damn...

“…you always say you like to hear me talk about the things I'm passionate about, but everyone has a limit on how much litany they can take. And I'm going to think I've found yours if you don't answer me now," She kept whimpering, mortified, and that wakes him up from his daydreams. "Come on, don't make me feel more embarrassed than I already am…!"

"… Why are you embarrassed?," He asks finally, surprising himself by managing to speak in a casual tone, instead of a dazzled one. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You're amazing, you know that?"

She stops chattering, blinking, mouth half open. "M-Me?"

"Is there anyone else here besides us? Damn...," He laughs low, approaching and reaching out to gently touch her face. "And you say you're a scared crybaby... you have to have a shitload of courage to recognize limitations and do what you can with them, you know? I'm very happy to have been an inspiration to you, but the willpower to change your life came entirely from you, ok? Don't take away your own merits, miss."

"Oh...," Her eyes twinkle again, in that way that made her look like she was about to cry. She moistens her lips with her tongue, the corners of them curling upwards. "I'm- I'm not… it's just that I was very frustrated for not being able to carry out that dream of mine, and that's not exactly amazing..."

"It is for me, because you didn't lose that passion within yourself, even with those frustrations. It just gave you another purpose, and now you fight in your own way, every day, one batch of cookies at a time," He jokes, to which she laughs. "Congratulations, Uta Tomori. You managed to turn your idol into your fan."

She bites her bottom lip, seeming to be vibrating with happiness as she touches his hands, which were still caressing her face. Sh close her eyes.

“Hearing you say that is almost like a dream come true, you know? But in my old fantasies, I heard it with the fervent admiration of a fan..."

"And now? How do you hear it?"

She opens her eyes, fluttering her lashes a little before turning her face to the side and kissing his left palm.

“I hear it like someone who really, really wants to kiss you right now."

And he doesn't hesitate, bending down to reach her mouth. He was going to have back pain at that rate, but doing that to her was definitely worth a few physical therapy sessions.

They finish making ginger pork and then they eat it (it was delicious, like everything else she made, dammit, he was one lucky son of a bitch!), talking little between one strip of fried meat and another. But it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. It was cozy. He, a chatterbox who couldn't keep his mouth shut for more than five minutes, was perfectly content enjoying this silence with her.

After dinner, she invited him to sprawl out on the sofa in the living room with her while they searched the Netflix catalog for an interesting movie. He was relieved that she hadn't suggested they go upstairs; he definitely wouldn't be abe to get in the mood for that night. But he still had that urge to be close to her, which was also unheard of.

Being like this with a girl, curled up on a couch with no perverted thoughts crossing his mind, just enjoying the warmth of the moment… holy shit, if that wasn't love, he didn't know what else could be.

"Hnnn… today has been a busy day…," She murmurs low, her eyes a little heavy as they are fixed on the television, her head snuggled into his chest as he lazily rubs her back. "And kinda emotional too. Sorry for being tired..."

He understood what those words implied without her needing to elaborate. "Sorry I'm too tired to do things that are more physical and involve less clothing with you." And surprisingly, that relieved him.

"It's fine, Tomori. I'm kinda tired too, the week was busy. I just want to be with you, that's all."

She smiles, closing her eyes "Me too. Then, if you feel like it, I'll show you the rest of the house."

"Fine be me. I'm especially curious about your crafts room. By the way, I wanted to ask..."

"What?"

"Will I ever be able to see you painting?"

She pouts, looking to the side while blushing a little. "Do you really want to? It's pretty boring from the outside."

"Not if I'm your model. How about it, huh?," He raises and lowers his eyebrows playfully. "I'll bring you a bouquet of roses just to pose with one of them between my teeth."

She laughs, pushing his face to the side. "No, I'll be laughing like an idiot and I won't be able to concentrate, hahaha!"

"Laughing at your idol like that, right on his face? And she still calls herself my fan, hunf..."

"I'm your fan, but not blind about it anymore," She lifts her chin a little. And then she smiles, stealing a peck from him. "And you prefer it that way, don't lie."

Oh yes, he sure did. He could never do those things with a blind, fanatical Tomori. She wouldn't have thought herself worthy. And he wouldn't have known her so well to want to go through all that with her. If he hadn't wanted to get to know her better...

Yeah, curiosity killed the gorilla, indeed. And thank God it did.

NEXT CHAPTER

#Kengan Ashura #Kengan Omega #kenganverse #fanfiction #Okubo Naoya #Naoya Okubo #okubo x oc #kengan oc #cookies'n cream #the heavy bakery series

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