Part (i) Cake?
He looked….different today. She wondered why.
“…And that is why we should never bake in a plastic tray. Got it?” Sakura Haruno had finished what would be her 25th lecture on the hazards of baking. Something was up that week: the chunin exams might have finished but in no way Sakura’s enthusiasm in becoming a ninja pared down. And her teammates? They were the subject to that enthusiasm.
It’d be an understatement to say that they enjoyed her baking, her new favourite pastime. Naruto albeit the foodie he is, would pretend to head off training with Iruka once he’d get a whiff of Sakura’s patented (yet undercooked) strawberry cupcakes. Kakashi was too indulged in his favourite pastime as well, Icha Icha Magazines. Though when he had a taste of the pink-haired ninja’s bakery, he drowned the redundant sugar in sake.
And the raven haired Uchiha was too inconspicuous to care. His propensity towards such sugary delights was next to naught. For Sasuke, nothing bothered and drew him away from the pink haired ninja was her knack at trying out new hobbies. Hey, he was conveniently the only one available for Sakura whom she’d try her cooking on.
That day was no different. Sakura had Sasuke try her latest culinary concoction: the basic fruit cake. Though when she made him taste the batter, it was the same old story.
“What do you mean it’s too dry?!” Sakura whined, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I’m just saying that the batter is not good, it should be smooth and even, not lumpy.” Sasuke like a masterful food critique tore Sakura’s imaginary woven handiwork into smithereens in a flash. She’d never felt so ashamed of her cooking.
“Did you try adding more milk?” the Uchiha suggested, suddenly spawning a revelation in Sakura’s mind. With the idea still fresh, she poured some warm milk into the batter and mixed it thoroughly. She noticed the brown mixture lighten its tone into a sandy colour. She definitely felt the difference in mixing the spoon too; it was seamless compared to the first time she’d bake. When satisfied, she scooped some out with her wooden spoon and handed it to the raven-haired male.
“Well, give it a try,” she said, hoping for the best. Sasuke gave it a little taste,
“Hm, better.” He nodded, gaining a glistening smile from the young female.
“Wow!” She exclaimed in utter joy, and just as Sasuke was about to taste it again she snatched the bowl from her hands.
He peered her a glare, she wiggled her nose.
“Oh cheer up pouty face! Or I’ll kiss it.”
That was a threat enough for the Uchiha to adjust his features. I don’t want any cooties, he thought to himself shaking his head.
Fifteen minutes later…
A fresh smell of fruit and cake filled the kitchen as Sakura carefully opened the oven and took out the freshly baked cake, with the entire dressing finished with big green oven gloves. Sasuke was really admiring the splendor of the cake as she placed it in front of him on the kitchen counter and proceeded to slice gently a piece of it. Sure enough the knife slid through the fluffy cake smoothly.
“Here,” she handed him the cake with a proud smile, Sasuke took a slow breath of the cake’s essence and smiled gently. She was definitely proud of her work as he began nibbling on the cake. “Mm,” he went, satisfied, a rare sight indeed. Sakura smiled softly, seeing at-least someone appreciated her cooking.
“Hey! “ They both heard a sharp cry, before turning to its source and seeing a befuddled and scared Naruto.
“You shouldn’t be eating that!” He warned Sasuke.
“And why not?”
“Hm, because Kakashi-sensei warned of her cooking!”
“Hey!” She took offense of the comment, blushing a hard red.
“Then they haven’t tried her famous strawberry pancakes,” Sasuke winked at the pink-haired girl before picking his plate up and heading out of the room, leaving a stunned Naruto and Sakura in the room.
Part (ii) Smell
Something different, but what? What made her notice him like that?
“Okay so our killer took the subway,” the brunette strolled in front of the whiteboard painted in murder; photos, evidences in small plastic bags, a big timeline and a visible 42 were all featured on the board. The woman was writing, erasing and rewriting parts of the scripture upon it.
“Espesito what did you come up with in the credit card check?”
“Nada,” the Hispanic shook his head, “maybe he canceled it,” he shook a pencil between his fingers, the brunette noticed the play and her defiant stare was enough for Espesito to stop.
“So, what about you Beckett?”
“What do you think?” Espesito wondered, making it obviously.
“Well I was thinking that—” she suddenly stopped when she scented a strong orange smell waft through the precinct before from the corner of her eyes saw him strut towards her.
“Hey!” White pants, a brown coat under which a shirt printed with orange-flowers and a pair of brown sunglasses resting over his square face. His usual bright smile fixed over his face. For a moment Beckett stopped doing and feeling everything.
“Hey, you like it?” The question brought her back into reality.
“Yeah, finally you updated from your gloomy fashion,” the comment immediately straightened Castle’s smile across his lips.
“Hm, well Alexis suggested a shopping spree and I liked this while we shopped,” he flaunted his coat proudly at the brunette, seeing her roll her eyes as usual.
“Hey, so—” Ryan brisk walked into the fashioned Richard Castle. He casted a look over the author before going, “Hippie movement?”
“What? No!” Castle protested taking off his sunglasses as Espesito snickered in the background.
“Alright you two, quit acting like little school girls,” Beckett warned the two, and Ryan shot into a short giggle,
“I meant you and Espesito,” she stressed at Ryan, immediately earning a pout from the shorter male, “why don’t you look into his call history? You’ll be sure to blossom something.”
The two dejected detectives nodded before shoving Castle with shoulders as they headed to investigate. “Hey!” Castle called at the two miserable detectives for their action.
“Oh forget it Castle,” Beckett nonchalantly ignored the two before turning to take a closer look at Castle’s new attire, “you look spiffing today,”
“Why thank you detective Beckett,” he said before leaning back at the table behind him adjacent to her.
“So, any luck?”
“Uh, no,” Beckett sighed, “the brother’s alibi is solid. Weird because he’s the only one who saw him alive after he’d secluded himself for three days.” She stood up and Castle was blessed with a clear view of her lips.
“You know orange would suit your lips,” he whispered before seeing her lips curl inside and get caught between her teeth. Castle gulped hard which made Beckett realize what she was doing, shake herself back into actuality and step away from him.
“Uh, I’ll go check out the vic’s background. Meanwhile you do what you’re supposed to be doing,” with that she paced away from the writer and left him befuddled.
“What did I do?” He was left but she knew he had done absolutely nothing, except be himself.
“Damn, he smelt of orange,” she cursed herself, ‘if I’d known I wouldn’t even think about getting close to him.” She bit her lip before remembering that cursed smell of orange that intoxicated him.
She stopped herself dead in her tracks, did she just thought that Castle’s smell was intoxicating?! She once again shook her head to get rid of the thought before heading off to do her duty.
Later when she returned to the whiteboard she noticed a piece of paper where Castle would sit. She picked it up and read it,
I think we got off on the wrong foot here.
“You got that right,” she said to herself before continuing reading,
I feel today I may have caused some sense of uneasiness, not because of how I looked but because of how I smelt. I knew from your reaction you’d instantly recognized the smell. And you’re right.
“I’m right?” Beckett thought to herself,
It is indeed the perfume that you wore when we first met. Today’s our first anniversary.
That left Beckett flustered again before she read the fine print at the bottom.
Of our crime solving adventures. Happy anniversary.
PS I left the same bottle of perfume for you in one of the drawers. Now we can share the same smell!
“Gross,” the brunette flinched before opening the drawer and finding the perfume with a pretty orange bow around the bottle’s neck. What made her smile more was that the bottle design was the same as the design when…..her mother bought it first…
She immediately added up the digits—plucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled again.
Gregarious? Yes. Stupid? Of course. Caring? Kind of? Intoxicating? For another day…
Part (iii) Night
I can’t be the only one right? I mean look at him!
“Let’s go over there!” Misa dragged the two males into the nearby restaurant. And immediately entering there she occupied the nearest window near the window, after much caused commotion of course.
“Misa, this isn’t necessary, ah—” Light panicked as Misa forced herself, him and L into the curved sofa.
“Couldn’t you pick a more spacious place?” L insisted as his eyes roved over the restaurant while he tried to put his legs on the sofa to sit. The patrons looked in wonder as the three individuals struggled to settle in the cramped sofa, the handcuffs and the table in front of them didn’t help either.
After some time of struggling they finally managed to sit down. “Alrighty! What does everyone want?” Misa asked the two males.
“To get out of here,” Light muttered to himself,
“Cake,” L immediately went.
“No,” she wagged a finger at Light, earning a grunt. “And no cake! Sugar will kill you!” She earnt L’s gaze darting away from her.
“Well, what do you have in mind then?” L wondered, loathing over not having cake.
“I’ll tell you,” she teased the eccentric male, “I already placed the order here before we came.”
“For what?” An annoyed Light demanded,
“Not going to find out with that crappy attitude Light,” she warned him, earning a heavy sigh from the brown-haired male.
It must’ve been a theme about Misa Amane, because as soon as she said that a cauldron carrying waiter waltzed his way towards the table. And from the smell of it, it was scrumptious.
Misa took a whiff of it, “Yum! Pierrie, do the honours please!”
With that the sophisticated waiter lifted the lid and revealed a large, juicy scrumptious
“Pizza!” Misa cheered as the two males looked on in plain disgust.
“Pizza?” Light toothed out at sight of the dish, “You dragged us here for pizza? We could’ve ordered it at our place!”
“I didn’t drag you guys here to eat. I brought you here to celebrate L’s birthday!” L looked at the blonde with a surprised look, “How did you know my birthday?
“You told us when we first met silly, October 24th.” She reminded him with a gentle smile, while Light slouched back in his seat,
“We came all the way to the other side of the city to celebrate L’s birthday?” Light thought to himself grunting.
“Hm, it’s not even my birthday,” L thought, “it’s the fake birthday I told Misa and Light. Not even Watari knows my birthday. Well,” he said as his hand reached out for a slice of the warm pizza, “it is nice of her to celebrate it. Even though it isn’t. And it would be such a shame to let this good pizza go to waste.” With that thought bearing in mind he took a cheesy slice of the pizza and ate it. Misa looked on with anticipation and Light wallowed in his self-indulgent thought.
“Well?” She asked him when he finished the slice.
“It’s…delicious,” he replied looking at the blonde with a surprised look, “it’s something I never tried before. And I really enjoyed it,”
“You never tried pizza before?!” Light asked in shock a little too loudly
“Light!” Misa warned, causing the male individual to recluse into his former grumpy state. She then turned back to L.
“And?” She wondered, holding her face in one hand while making small circles on the table with the other.
“And anything else?”
“Oh yes,” L blushed gently, “thank you Misa,”
Misa was expecting something about the pizza, but that did it too.
“You’re welcome,” she smiled softly. “I uh… made this myself.”
“Really?” L looked over at the blonde with yet another surprised look, “That’s amazing.”
“Mmhmm,” she nodded.
“Light care for a slice? Misa made it herself and I thought you’d like it,” he offered a slice to him.
“No thanks!” Light turned the other way, still fuming.
“Jeez, is he always like this around you?” Misa asked the raven haired male.
“Hm, only when I ask him to share something,” Light turned his head the other way at the comment. L didn’t care; he had other business to tend to; such as eating up the tasty pizza and indulging in a long conversation with Misa Amane. She for one never thought that he’d like her cooking. But she was glad someone did.
Even if it was someone who’d never change, then again change is inevitable.
Part (iv) On Repeat
“Hi Deku!” She waved at the green-haired boy, who blushed back seeing her stand besides the obedient Iida.
“Midoriya,” he bowed at him, Izuku bowed back.
“Hey Deku guess what?” the brunette cheerfully said to the green haired boy.
“Oh what Uraraka?” He asked her,
“Check it out,” she plucked her phone out of her pocket with her headphones. She put one bud in one of Deku’s ears, leaving him shuddering and nervous as Iida looked on in wonder.
“Okay Deku, recognize it?” She said as she pressed her phone. Suddenly an energetic EDM beat play into his ears and automatically a smile appeared over his lips.
“You like it?” Uraraka asked the seemingly star struck Izuku.
“Izuku?” Iida inquired.
“It’s—it’s the Backstreet Boys,” he lowly said, shaking slightly before bobbing his head to the beat of the music. Uraraka nodded with a satisfied smile.
“It’s their new song ‘Don’t go Breaking my heart’,” she affirmed moving on her heels.
“Who are they?” Iida not being a big music fan asked, “Are they some new boy band or something?”
“They’re Deku’s favourite,” she answered the spectacled boy.
“How do you know?” He asked,
“Well I overheard Katsuki making fun of them and he went on about Deku loved quote-enquote, such a dumb band,” she once again glanced at the smiling Izuku. And from a safer distance, Katsuki spied on.
“Shush it Eijirou,” he hissed at the red-haired boy,
“What’s the matter?” Eijirou inquired, Katsuki simply pointed him at Izuku and Uraraka sharing headphones and singing the lyrics to the song to a befuddled Iida.
“So?” Eijirou shrugged, “they’re singing Backstreet Boys, what’s in that?”
“I hate them.”
“Who, the band or Midoriya and Ochako?”
“Both,” Katsuki fumed before heading off there, followed by Eijirou with a sneaky smile and probably lots of questions.
“Look uh,” Iida rubbed his head at the two occupied heroes-to-be, “class is about to start. I’ll see you there, okay?”
They both gave him the OK symbol before swaying to the song. Iida shrugged and hurried off to class.
“They missed class,” Todoroki said as he saw Deku and Uraraka sitting on a bench sharing earphones and smiling and bobbing their heads.
“It’s nothing special anyway,” Momo curtly replied, “today was English anyways. And it was a boring lecture too.”
“I guess,” Todoroki shrugged before stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“They’re still listening to that cursed song!” They both heard Iida as they turned to see a shocked Iida gawk at the two.
“Wait so they’ve been—” Momo turned to the spectacled student.
“Listening to it since morning? Yeah,” Iida kept his speedy reputation and finished her sentence. “They’re probably listening to the same song.”
“What song?” Wondered Todoroki.
“Hold on,” Iida said before darting towards the two blissfully unaware Izuku and Uraraka, checked out the phone, gave a surprised look to no one in particular and ran back.
“Yep,” he panted, “they’re listening to the same song.”
“What song?” Todoroki inquired.
“Don’t Go Breaking My Heart,”
“Ah, that,” Momo went, getting both of their attention, “it’s a pretty good song.” She said calmly.
“You listened to it too?!” Iida screamed, Momo nodded and without hesitation Iida ran out of that “maddening place”
“What’s with him?” Todoroki muttered confused.
“Dunno, the song isn’t bad,” Momo replied, “no wonder those two like it,” once again turning to Deku and Uraraka still listening.
“You think it’s on repeat?” Todoroki wondered,
“Probably,” Momo answered, “but the it’s good.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Todoroki strolled, as Momo caught up with him leaving the two music lovers to tend to their trebles.
“I never knew you liked backstreet boys,” Deku said as they pulled out the earphones after an hour or so.
“Oh I love them” Uraraka replied, “want to know how I found them?”
“Oh yeah,” Deku nodded.
“Alright! So it–” she was about to start just then she turned and bumped into Deku’s nose. Instead of going back, they stayed like that for a moment or two. Staring into each others’ eyes, not saying a word but letting their eyes explore one another.
“I—uhh,” Uraraka leaned back, rubbing the back of her head and Izuku looked at his lap blushing.
“So, the music,” she drawled, trying to forget what had just happened.
“Oh yeah,” Izuku looked at her, “I’d love to know about your music.”
“Oh, where do I start? Ooh I know—” She said as they both turned to one another, this time avoiding any accident. They went about their music choices, realizing that something was definitely different that time. They weren’t blushing anymore. They were smiling.
Something is different about you… maybe it’s you, or me…or us…