Drabble-age (Secret, D2 Gen, G)
Title: Secret
Author: Ociwen
Wordcount: 1166
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Konomi owns all.
Summary: Marui has a deep, dark secret.
Author's Notes: My idea to not post fic this April has utterly and completely failed.
Marui has a deep, dark secret. One that he has never told anyone because if he did, his life would be over. Finished. Done with.
He can’t cook.
Not cakes, cookies or tarts. Not soufflés, pies or doughnuts. Not flans, pastries or muffins.
Not a single bloody thing. Even ramen noodles, the instant kind from a package, he screws up royally because he has a tendency to forget about them and by the time he remembers, the noodles are puffed up beyond salvaging and only fit to serve the garbage can.
He has, however, worked out a method. No one has picked up on it yet: Marui buys his cakes from a shop on the other side of Kanagawa, far enough out of the way that no one would ever go there. The cakes are beautiful, works of culinary art with delicate flowers made in thick icing, swirls of cream decorating the sides. And inside, heavenly bliss of chocolate cream and fluffy cake, not gummy or dry, but cooked to perfection.
Each and every cake Marui is asked to bake for the tennis team birthday parties, he buys from the shop. It’s easy to scrape the flowers and flourishes off- they are deposited into his stomach, of course- and redo some of the icing, a little sloppier, less made up. And then, with his tensai-like prowess, Marui gets out his Midas touch.
Which happens to be more like a tube of gel icing than gold, but it does the trick. He’s not the keen calligrapher that Sanada or Yanagi is, but his characters in purple gel “Happy Birthday So-and-So” give each and every cake that je ne sais quois it needs to pass off as a Marui Manufacture.
Marui takes his cakes out of the prim white box from the shop, slides them onto a homemade cake plate covered in foil paper, and he puts his cake into a cardboard box, making sure to bang up the edges, just a bit, and give the cake one last homey feel to it.
It’s a lie, of course, when he tells the team, “Sorry for the cake looking so banged up. Some guy bumped into me on the train and knocked into it.” But it’s a lie that works in some sort of variation, each and every time.
Until close to his own birthday. Senior high school has started. Tennis has started. Marui aches all over and Yukimura isn’t even the one giving laps this time. His winter fat recedes like glaciers and Niou is the first to point it out.
“You ass doesn’t look as fat this week,” Niou says.
Marui hits Niou with his towel. Niou whips his towel from his hips and slaps Marui back. They run around the changing room stark naked until Niou slides through a puddle and Marui stumbles into him and it’s a painful and horribly naked mess they end up in. With all the high school seniors and juniors laughing at them, the bottom of the pile once again.
Jackal only makes it worse. They’re walking home through the park, filled with half-empty sakura trees and the wafting scent of takoyaki coming from a stand. Marui sniffs the air and starts to wander close to it.
Jackal says, “Say, Marui…that cake you made for Yukimura’s birthday, it tasted a bit like the cakes from Gateau Chateau over near Yokosuka station.”
Marui stops walking. “Fancy that,” he says, forcing himself to laugh. Then, before Jackal can say anything else, Marui grabs his hand and yanks him over to the stand, “Want to get some takoyaki?”
But, even as Marui fishes through his pockets for change to pay for the takoyaki, Jackal doesn’t let up. “You’ve never been to that shop, have you? They have a chocolate dream cake that uses the same…what is the filling again?”
Marui’s insides shrivel up, and not out of hunger. Marui stuffs a takoyaki ball into his mouth. The heat burns his tongue, but he swallows it down anyway. “Uh…” Dammit, Jackal! “Uh….chocolate chiffon foam?”
Jackal mouth twitches. “Huh. Because you know, Gateau Chateau calls it the same thing. Chocolate Chiffon Foam.”
“I guess my tensai-like powers must have rubbed off on the cake industry,” Marui says, a bit too loud and cocksure. His face is on fire, red like his hair, and he rushes ahead of Jackal to try to cool himself off. And avoid anymore questions.
It’s hard, though, with burning takoyaki in a thin plastic dish and Marui can’t bounce it between his palms forever. Giving up, he sits down on the ledge of a fountain and sets the dish down. Jackal sits down, too, and grabs one of the takoyaki, being the smartass he is and blowing off the steam before he chows down on it.
“Why don’t you ever try to make a different kind of cake?” Jackal asks. “I mean, for your birthday and all. What about…a strawberry shortcake fantasy?”
Marui can feel his mouth watering at the imagine taste of sweet berries and cream melting together over his tongue, with vanilla custard mingling with a cloud of angel food cake. And then he notices Jackal’s toothy grin. “Oi!” he shouts.
“Because Gateau Chateau makes it, you know,” Jackal says.
Marui throws his hands up into the air in defeat. “Okay, fine!” he yells. “You know all about it! I didn’t make them! I didn’t make anything- not the damn cookies Sanada always wanted me to make for Yukimura, not any of the cakes, not even the fucking sandwiches for the Kantou regionals!”
Jackal stretches out his long legs and leans back towards the spray of mist from the fountain. He starts to laugh and shake his head and the sound of it is infectious, despite Marui just being outed. He starts to laugh, too, and before long, they’re cackling and bent over gasping.
They both make a grab for another takoyaki ball at the same time. Hands brush and Jackal’s skin is warm, but Marui’s even hotter, because he’s still embarrassed and why does Jackal have to know now?
“I can cook, you know,” Jackal says, waving his hand.
Marui pops the takoyaki ball into his mouth. “Oh really?” he says while chewing, spraying food and spit into the air between them.
“It’s not hard,” Jackal says. “I could teach you sometime. I’m sure your tensai-like powers will catch up in the kitchen eventually.”
Marui’s grin falls as Jackal’s only gets wider. Marui shouts, “KUWAHARA!” and lunges, shoving Jackal backwards into the fountain with a grand splash that gets him just as wet sitting on the edge.
Jackal says, “You still can’t cook.” He wades through the fountain, his uniform clinging to him and his bald head dripping rivulets down his face and neck. He might be wet, but his smile is constant.
Marui narrows his eyes. Waggling his finger, he says, “Not yet.”
Just for spite, he shoves the last three takoyaki into his mouth, all at once.
Author: Ociwen
Wordcount: 1166
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Konomi owns all.
Summary: Marui has a deep, dark secret.
Author's Notes: My idea to not post fic this April has utterly and completely failed.
Marui has a deep, dark secret. One that he has never told anyone because if he did, his life would be over. Finished. Done with.
He can’t cook.
Not cakes, cookies or tarts. Not soufflés, pies or doughnuts. Not flans, pastries or muffins.
Not a single bloody thing. Even ramen noodles, the instant kind from a package, he screws up royally because he has a tendency to forget about them and by the time he remembers, the noodles are puffed up beyond salvaging and only fit to serve the garbage can.
He has, however, worked out a method. No one has picked up on it yet: Marui buys his cakes from a shop on the other side of Kanagawa, far enough out of the way that no one would ever go there. The cakes are beautiful, works of culinary art with delicate flowers made in thick icing, swirls of cream decorating the sides. And inside, heavenly bliss of chocolate cream and fluffy cake, not gummy or dry, but cooked to perfection.
Each and every cake Marui is asked to bake for the tennis team birthday parties, he buys from the shop. It’s easy to scrape the flowers and flourishes off- they are deposited into his stomach, of course- and redo some of the icing, a little sloppier, less made up. And then, with his tensai-like prowess, Marui gets out his Midas touch.
Which happens to be more like a tube of gel icing than gold, but it does the trick. He’s not the keen calligrapher that Sanada or Yanagi is, but his characters in purple gel “Happy Birthday So-and-So” give each and every cake that je ne sais quois it needs to pass off as a Marui Manufacture.
Marui takes his cakes out of the prim white box from the shop, slides them onto a homemade cake plate covered in foil paper, and he puts his cake into a cardboard box, making sure to bang up the edges, just a bit, and give the cake one last homey feel to it.
It’s a lie, of course, when he tells the team, “Sorry for the cake looking so banged up. Some guy bumped into me on the train and knocked into it.” But it’s a lie that works in some sort of variation, each and every time.
Until close to his own birthday. Senior high school has started. Tennis has started. Marui aches all over and Yukimura isn’t even the one giving laps this time. His winter fat recedes like glaciers and Niou is the first to point it out.
“You ass doesn’t look as fat this week,” Niou says.
Marui hits Niou with his towel. Niou whips his towel from his hips and slaps Marui back. They run around the changing room stark naked until Niou slides through a puddle and Marui stumbles into him and it’s a painful and horribly naked mess they end up in. With all the high school seniors and juniors laughing at them, the bottom of the pile once again.
Jackal only makes it worse. They’re walking home through the park, filled with half-empty sakura trees and the wafting scent of takoyaki coming from a stand. Marui sniffs the air and starts to wander close to it.
Jackal says, “Say, Marui…that cake you made for Yukimura’s birthday, it tasted a bit like the cakes from Gateau Chateau over near Yokosuka station.”
Marui stops walking. “Fancy that,” he says, forcing himself to laugh. Then, before Jackal can say anything else, Marui grabs his hand and yanks him over to the stand, “Want to get some takoyaki?”
But, even as Marui fishes through his pockets for change to pay for the takoyaki, Jackal doesn’t let up. “You’ve never been to that shop, have you? They have a chocolate dream cake that uses the same…what is the filling again?”
Marui’s insides shrivel up, and not out of hunger. Marui stuffs a takoyaki ball into his mouth. The heat burns his tongue, but he swallows it down anyway. “Uh…” Dammit, Jackal! “Uh….chocolate chiffon foam?”
Jackal mouth twitches. “Huh. Because you know, Gateau Chateau calls it the same thing. Chocolate Chiffon Foam.”
“I guess my tensai-like powers must have rubbed off on the cake industry,” Marui says, a bit too loud and cocksure. His face is on fire, red like his hair, and he rushes ahead of Jackal to try to cool himself off. And avoid anymore questions.
It’s hard, though, with burning takoyaki in a thin plastic dish and Marui can’t bounce it between his palms forever. Giving up, he sits down on the ledge of a fountain and sets the dish down. Jackal sits down, too, and grabs one of the takoyaki, being the smartass he is and blowing off the steam before he chows down on it.
“Why don’t you ever try to make a different kind of cake?” Jackal asks. “I mean, for your birthday and all. What about…a strawberry shortcake fantasy?”
Marui can feel his mouth watering at the imagine taste of sweet berries and cream melting together over his tongue, with vanilla custard mingling with a cloud of angel food cake. And then he notices Jackal’s toothy grin. “Oi!” he shouts.
“Because Gateau Chateau makes it, you know,” Jackal says.
Marui throws his hands up into the air in defeat. “Okay, fine!” he yells. “You know all about it! I didn’t make them! I didn’t make anything- not the damn cookies Sanada always wanted me to make for Yukimura, not any of the cakes, not even the fucking sandwiches for the Kantou regionals!”
Jackal stretches out his long legs and leans back towards the spray of mist from the fountain. He starts to laugh and shake his head and the sound of it is infectious, despite Marui just being outed. He starts to laugh, too, and before long, they’re cackling and bent over gasping.
They both make a grab for another takoyaki ball at the same time. Hands brush and Jackal’s skin is warm, but Marui’s even hotter, because he’s still embarrassed and why does Jackal have to know now?
“I can cook, you know,” Jackal says, waving his hand.
Marui pops the takoyaki ball into his mouth. “Oh really?” he says while chewing, spraying food and spit into the air between them.
“It’s not hard,” Jackal says. “I could teach you sometime. I’m sure your tensai-like powers will catch up in the kitchen eventually.”
Marui’s grin falls as Jackal’s only gets wider. Marui shouts, “KUWAHARA!” and lunges, shoving Jackal backwards into the fountain with a grand splash that gets him just as wet sitting on the edge.
Jackal says, “You still can’t cook.” He wades through the fountain, his uniform clinging to him and his bald head dripping rivulets down his face and neck. He might be wet, but his smile is constant.
Marui narrows his eyes. Waggling his finger, he says, “Not yet.”
Just for spite, he shoves the last three takoyaki into his mouth, all at once.