Chocolate

If there was one thing Kurosaki would not do, he would not let his thoughts wander off into curiosity, enough for him to cringe in the middle of his job and perhaps go home failing and empty-handed for the first time.

What made his thoughts wander in the first place was the mention of that troublesome university woman, who he sought to forget, especially after all her irritating efforts to weave through the remnants of his heart. 

But to his dismay, the old man wouldn’t keep quiet of his metaphorical words about the love found in her homemade sweets.

“Oi, just give me the damn information already. I don’t have all day.” Kurosaki complained, tapping his fingers against the stack of money while his right leg quivered profoundly against the black stool.

Katsuragi absentmindedly sat there paying no heed to the impatient boy and slowly continued to munch on the delicious cookies.

“There is no sweeter thing than the taste of love.”

His boney fingers reached over to grab two more cookies before displaying them perfectly on top of the demanded manila envelope to Kurosaki, “You should try some of these. I’m sure it’ll make your day worthwhile.”

Kurosaki stopped all movements and glared at the grinning elderly man,

“Whatever, thanks very much as always.”

He spun around in the stool, snatched the envelope and sauntered out of the building as quickly as he could, shoving a cookie into his mouth along the way.

Just as he made it out with the fading sound of the door slamming behind him, it didn’t take long until the taste of the white chocolate finally registered into his mind. He stood in the middle of the crowd with an expression of astonishment, crumbling at the manila envelope in eagerness.

The old man was right, it was delicious. So delicious, he was tempted to run back inside and swindle a couple more into his possession, even if it was made by that annoying tenant who lived next to him.

It was practically pure heaven to him, no matter how much he denied it.

“Eh? It’s locked?! I thought he’d be here today.” A recognizable voice suddenly fussed out from behind.

“Ah, she comes.”

Kurosaki looked back innocently with crumbs of sweet delight falling out of his mouth to her thwarted form, studying in curiosity the pink plastic bag wrapped up in the form of a gift in her arms. 

She continued in frustration to open the door and even knocked at the glass window, but still received no answer, oblivious to the sign in front of her. Rolling his eyes and breaking off his intense gaze, he regrettably decided to take hold of her attention,

“Yo-shi-da.”

“Huh?” Tsurara turned her head to him and the look in her face shifted into innocent confusion.

“Kurosaki-kun?”

“What is it that you want? Can’t you read the sign? The restaurant is closed.”

Tsurara ignored that issue and twirled around, immediately fixating her eyes at the cookie in his hand. He glanced back and forth between her dazed form and the sweet round item before arching his eyebrow in bewilderment.

“Those cookies weren’t made for you. They were for Katsuragi-san!” She suddenly declared, pointing at him in disbelief while approaching closer to him.

”So it is…but the old man offered it to me and to be blunt…They’re really not as delicious as he says.” He retorted, teasingly swallowing the rest of the rations in disdain.

“Then why do you continue to eat it?”

Kurosaki scrunched his eyebrows together and curtly shoved the second entire cookie into his mouth, “I’m hungry.” 

For a while, she just stood there with a pouted look, staring profoundly at his stoic expression, until her lips curved into a smile,

“You’re lying.”

For a slight second, he almost faltered from her sweet whisper, taken aback at how easily she read his impassive face, but eventually recovered before pushing her aside.

“Oi, you’re a little too close. Get away before people start jumping to conclusions about us.”

“Stop making excuses. Just admit it already, you like it.” 

It was always a mystery to him why her frame of mind tended to shift here and there, especially her miraculous and sometimes effortless ways of wheedling into his personal life. 

Nothing could ever change her mind about the way he lived his life anyway.

“Whatever, I don’t have time for this. I have a job to finish.” 

“Wait! These are for—”

“Just go home already. You can give the old man his cookies tomorrow morning.” 

“But…” He droned out her voice and escaped through the crowds, hoping to get as far away from her as possible before their conversation continued any longer. He expected her to frown and do as she was told, but instead she chased after him and pulled tightly at the hem of his light jacket.

Kurosaki angrily turned to face her, fed up with her troublesome persistence.

“Oi Yoshida, you’re really annoying. I thought I told you to—”

“Stupid jerk.” Tsurara muttered with a puckered brow before throwing the pink wrapped gift into his arms. She shook her head in distress, avoiding his impenetrable gaze and turned to leave, disappearing through the crowd.

“Hey! Come back!”

He cringed as he glowered between the gift in his hands and her fading form from the distance.

“Happy Valentine’s Day Kurosaki.”

And indeed his assumption about her mood shifts deemed true.

With nothing he else he could do, he casually made his way to the trashcan, letting the gift hover over the hole.

“I told you I don’t need your cheap sympathy.”

The gift almost slipped from his grasp, but as the light shined through the bag, he quickly grabbed hold of it by the end, finally taking notice of the heart-shaped, chocolate chip cookies.

Forcing a smile, he looked back, raised his right hand and pointed at the direction Tsurara disappeared to,

“Bang.”

Even though wrong impressions may continue to play ahead between the two of them, as well as the efforts to weave through his ice-sheathed heart, the journey of their undeniable love was transcendent through hidden words and secret gestures.

He always knew that curiosity always killed the cat, but he couldn’t help but indulge himself with what he would not typically receive everyday, even if it was cheap sympathy.

Chocolate chip cookies were his most favorite anyway.

—OWARI—