[log] Kenya & Shiraishi

[naniwaspeed]

Who: Oshitari Kenya & Shiraishi Kuranosuke
What: Shiraishi shows up on Kenya's doorstep with beers in hand and everything goes downhill from there. They catch up, bubble at one another, Shiraishi may or may not be over his crush on Kenya, Kenya can't control his drunken limbs, and CAKE!
When: Last night
Where: The Oshitari cousins residence
Rating: PG

As Kenya answered the door, for which Shiraishi was grateful so he didn’t have to explain to Yuushi why he had just showed up at their door with two six packs wearing sunglasses at night, Shiraishi held up the two six packs, one in each hand. “I assumed your fridge has only crappy beer,” he explained. Shiraishi would not drink a beer that wasn’t a fancy, craft import. Kenya… Kenya liked that alcohol made him forget momentarily about the dark abyss that he was perpetually spiraling down into every day when he arrived at school.

Shiraishi hadn’t explicitly said he was coming over right away. He just… did.

Ever the so gracious host, Kenya scooped the six packs out from Shiraishi’s hands, and bumped the door open further with his hip. “Yeah, I’ve got nothing Kura-approved right now, so thanks.” It was almost shameful how alcohol free their refrigerator was at the moment, but they certainly weren’t without four milk alternatives for Kenya to have with his various drinks each day.

Without pausing, he wandered into the kitchen to put the beers away, and called out, “You want one chilled or just have it now?”

“They should already be chilled - they came from my fridge and it isn’t warm outside.” Shiraishi followed Kenya in, toeing off his shoes at the entrance and taking his wallet out of his back pocket to set it down with his shoes and sunglasses. He hung his coat with Yuushi and Kenya’s coats and stepped into the house. Unsurprisingly, Speedy was wandering around the house (she usually did when Kenya was home with her), and was protecting the living room from Shiraishi’s intrusion. He crouched down, offering her rubs on her head. “Just me, Speedy.”

If Kenya had taken two seconds to test the backs of his fingers against the beer, he would have known that it was indeed cold - but that would have been too easy for Naniwa’s speed star. It had been a Few Days studying for exams that his head wasn’t quite screwed on tightly anymore, and so he was going to blame his lack of forethought on that instead.

Returning to the living room, two beers in hand, Kenya flopped back on the couch and watched Shiraishi with Speedy. “She’s missed you,” he explained, stretching his legs out and holding out the beer for whenever Shiraishi was ready to join him on the couch.

Shiraishi wasn’t going to be the one to tell Kenya that Speedy probably didn’t miss him, though she did seem calmer around him than someone that she didn’t know. He got back to his feet and flopped on the couch beside Kenya, accepting the beer. It had been a whirlwind couple of weeks for him - he had filming of the new show on the horizon, he had just finished up his livehouse tour, he had moved away from Osaka… “I missed Speedy, too.” He held up the beer as though to touch glasses with the iguana. “To your health, Speedy.”

There was never any concern that Kenya was going to be made fun of with the very human way that Kenya treated Speedy when Shiraishi was around, as the other man still very clearly believed in the reincarnation of his irreplaceable partner, Gabriel. Shiraishi was an animal lover, he was known to bring home stray cats much to his parents’ bemusement, and Kenya always loved to get the phone calls when Shiraishi would excitably tell him about the latest - the latest this time being, of course, Angel.

Kenya laughed gleefully and also held his beer up to Speedy. “To Speedy - and to you, Kura, because oh my god, finally.”

“Finally what?” Shiraishi asked, taking his first drink of the beer. It was an Oktoberfest pumpkin beer he hadn’t been able to get into just yet, he was excited to try it. As he hoped, it was a nice, light fall beer that went down more smoothly than the god only knows what that was in Kenya’s fridge.

Well, Kenya thought it had been obvious.

“To the fact that we’re together again!” It came out a bit more excitable than he had really meant for it to, but he could hardly contain his excitement to have so many of his favorite people surrounding him in Tokyo. It had been a total plunge with feet first when he initially moved and while Kenya had time to become independent during that time, it was so comforting now that Shiraishi was there to fill the little Shiraishi-shaped hole in his heart.

Shiraishi laughed, finding Kenya’s, granted ridiculous, exuberance infectious. “I couldn’t stay away forever,” he joked. Though it was actually the hardest thing in the world for him to be separated from both Kenya and Yukari, the two people he confided in the most. Moving had also put him closer to Seiichi, Yuuji, Hikaru, Tanegashima… it was going to be a good thing, even if it was heartbreaking to leave Osaka. “So are we getting pissass drunk for old time’s sake?”

“Of course we are.” Although it may have appeared that Kenya’s only hobby was drinking, given how quick he was to turn to the bottle, that wasn’t true - except for maybe when Shiraishi was around. Some of their crazier evenings had been with the company of beer and the rest of the Shiraishi family; it was definitely going to be for old time’s sake. “Yuushi’s not home, Yukari’s on a baking rampage - we’re all in the clear for the night.”

“A baking rampage? Sounds like Yukarin.” Shiraishi’s younger sister had always been the baker of the family and had been testing her experiments on them since she was very young, no more than five or six. She had become quite proficient in the craft, but something about moving away from home seemed to cause her to double down on her efforts. Shiraishi would get text messages or see Instagram posts of new baked good what seemed like a few times per week. “You’re making it sound like you sent everyone away for the night, Kenya. What sordid things are we getting into?”

Kenya was in the middle of a good, long sip of the beer (he had no idea what it was, but it tasted expensive and went down smoothly, so that was definitely a good stamp of Shiraishi approval) when Shiraishi spoke, that it took every ounce of willpower not to spew it all over his best friend. A belly laugh tore out of him as he shook his head rapidly. “No, it’s not like that at all.”

It was no secret that Kenya was teased relentlessly for his and Shiraishi’s relationship, the conclusion had been drawn many times that they were dating despite not dating at all. “They did that on their own,” he elaborated, though it really wasn’t going to make it much better.

“Oh, so they were giving us space?” Shiraishi retorted, taking another long drink of his beer. “It has been a while…”

“Something like that.” Playfully, Kenya nudged Shiraishi’s shoulder. “Is that what you’re thinking about?”

Shiraishi laughed boisterously, though he knew his ears were burning. “Maybe we can unpack that after a few more beers.” It had been years, but there was a time when Kenya was all Shiraishi could think about. Back then, he had a crush on Shiraishi’s older sister. That attention had since skipped over Shiraishi entirely when he started to notice Yukari. Shiraishi couldn’t have been happier than to know the two of them were together, but there was definitely a time when it hurt.

Whether or not Kenya noticed that Shiraishi’s ears were on fire was hard to say when Kenya left it without comment, though he echoed Shiraishi’s laugh with one of his own. “Yeah, ‘kay.” That seemed like the perfect time to take a longer sip of his beer, finishing more than half in an impressive feat befitting of the self proclaimed speed star.

The blonde tilted his head to rest against on the back of the couch, sinking further into the cushions. It was the perfect couch to lounge on, most recently with Yuushi and his video games where he could easily sit for hours on end and only get up to go to the bathroom or grab food, but it was also a great couch to just hang out with friends.

“So,” Kenya started, tilting his head just enough to look over at Shiraishi. “You need to update me on everything going on.”

“Everything, huh?” Shiraishi tried to catch up on his beer to match Kenya’s pace, but that could prove a daunting task once Kenya got started. “Well, I’ve been doing the livehouse tours - but you knew about that.” At least, he was fairly certain he had talked to Kenya about it before everyone else found out through the media. Something he was having a hard time keeping in order was how and when information was getting to his family and friends about his activities. “And I’m working on filming a drama, now, with Niou Masaharu as my costar. It’s actually a lead role, too.”

Shiraishi tipped the beer bottle a bit to the side in his hand, regarding it thoughtfully. “I had to leave the tennis team at the end of this past season, I couldn’t keep up with the practice and competing schedule, so I figured I’d join a league in the spring, if I have time. I’ve also had to move all of my classes to a correspondence basis. This idol thing is all-consuming of my time, these days.”

Even if Shiraishi hadn’t told Kenya about the livehouse tours, Kenya was active enough on social media, keeping up with not only Shiraishi’s personal Instagram limited to only close friends and family, but also on his public profiles where he was quick to share selfies from his various events. Unfortunately Kenya hadn’t been able to make it home to Osaka or get tickets for one of the shows in Tokyo, but he absolutely wanted to see Shiraishi perform live - especially one song in particular that had Kenya in complete blubbering tears the first time he heard it and was just dying to be in the crowd for.

The drama, though - that was new. He recalled Niou mentioning it online briefly in passing, but he hadn’t paid much attention to it at the time, but now that he knew Shiraishi was going to be in it, he’d make sure that he and Yuushi sat down every week to watch it. With any luck it’d be one of those dramas that would have Yuushi glued to the tv, anyway.

“It’s too bad,” he mused out loud. “I mean, not about all of the cool things you’re doing in your career, but just not having the time for tennis or school like you used to.” It had seemed like many of their former rivals had actually given up on tennis had they not pursued the game professionally; sometimes it felt like he and Tachibana were the only ones who continued on to play at the collegiate level, though Kenya knew that wasn’t exactly true. The school thing on the other hand - Shiraishi had a bright future in the entertainment industry, so he could take all the time in the world he needed to for his chemistry degree. “You want a partner for league? Unless you’re gonna do the whole singles thing,” he added with a grin.

“Mm, do they let high level university players like you in?” Shiraishi grinned at him, taking another drink of the beer. It wouldn't actually be a problem to have a collegiate player - if he wanted to take a partner on the pro circuit, on the other hand, that person would get disqualified. “Of course I would love to play doubles with you. I was surprised Yukarin didn't snatch you up for mixed.” Though when he heard that she decided to pair with Tachibana Kippei, instead, he could understand the choice she made.

“What, you scared that I’ll whoop your ass ‘cause you’re out of practice and I’m not?” Kenya retorted with a dumb grin on his own face, though he knew better than to think that he would be able to beat Shiraishi so easily after a mere couple of months without daily practice. “I tried to play mixed with her, but I got passed over basically right away for both tennis and running.” It wasn’t entirely true, he and Yukari went on near daily runs together and it had been that way even with distance separating them, but she did designate Kamio as her official running partner upon moving to Tokyo.

Unless Kenya had done something truly remarkable with his game in the seven weeks since Shiraishi last was regularly practicing, there was going to be no ass whooping taking place. Shiraishi feigned worry. “If you are the common denominator, it must be something about you.” A troubled look crossed his features after he finished off his first beer. He knew that Yukari had also embraced Kamio as a running partner, but it was probably in part because he was younger and lived closer to her. “I guess I shouldn't play doubles with you.”

“Hey!” It was bad enough that he and Kamio still had this dumb rivalry going on for who was actually the fastest (though, at least on Kenya’s part it was mostly in jest - it was rather nostalgic after so many years had passed since middle school); he didn’t need Shiraishi’s sass, either. “You’d be lucky to play doubles with Naniwa’s Speed Star.” Even as the words left his lips, it made him feel a rush of adrenaline for actually being on the same court as Shiraishi once more - it had been far too long and Kenya still didn’t enjoy meeting him across the yet.

Shiraishi raised an eyebrow at Kenya. “Don't get ahead of yourself, Kenya.” He propped his feet up on the couch and wrapped one arm around one knee. Even when they were in jr high, that sort of boast would have been over the top. “I'd much rather play with Kenya than Naniwa’s Speed Star.”

Kenya’s grin faded to a soft, almost dopey smile, not unlike those that he gave Yukari when she said something that made his heart immediately flutter out of his chest. Of course that was better than anything else it could possibly be - he was nobody other than himself when he was around Shiraishi. “So that means playing with just Kura, too, right?”

That smile was a one hit K.O. for Shiraishi's heart, it always had been. He reached for another beer just to busy his hands with opening it and not have to immediately respond. Even if his long standing crush on Kenya had moved on, the attraction to him certainly hadn't. “Who else would I be? Kurarin?”

Fortunately for Shiraishi, it went largely unnoticed for Kenya realized belatedly that he was now behind on the beer game, finishing the rest of his first bottle in record speed and opening the next to get a head start. They were going to do this the right way. “Exactly. Cool, confident, sexy Kurarin who everyone fawns over when we’re all over here like, we know the truth.”

“I'm not sexy all the time?” This was easier, more familiar territory. Shiraishi shot Kenya a wicked smile. He would be the first to say he wasn't cool at all - but he thought he was generally confident in himself. And the fawning had been going on even before he was an idol. He and Kenya had been very popular in school for their good looks and gregarious personalities.

There was no denying that Shiraishi was extremely attractive. Kenya had eyes. But for all that he had grown up, there was still that part of Kenya that saw Shiraishi as an awkward preteen with a fluff of blonde hair that hadn’t yet seen the likes of a straightening iron. It was crazy to think that the rest of the country now got to experience it for themselves.

“Well, obviously, but you’re ruining my joke.” Kenya gave him a mock pout, ruined by the tilt of the bottle to his lips.

Obviously? Shiraishi laughed, leaning into Kenya and also taking a more serious drink from the bottle. “A few more of these and you won't be joking, anymore,” he said. The two of them were known for drunk shenanigans. In fact, any and all of Shiraishi's experience with another person was… well, drunk Kenya.

And it was true - Kenya and Shiraishi were very guilty of getting into trouble together when they were drunk. It hadn’t happened in a long time, at least not in the time that he and Yukari had been dating, though Yukari was the first to roll her eyes and dismiss them for it because it was just a thing that they did sometimes. “Don’t let it go to your head,” Kenya joked, leaning back against Shiraishi. It was familiar - and kinda comforting, too. Shiraishi always had that calming effect on him. “I’ve really missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” Though they had kept in touch to the best of their ability, there was a huge difference between a phone call and drinking together on the couch. Shiraishi felt like a good portion of his close friends had moved away unexpectedly as they entered their university years. He put his free hand on top of Kenya’s head, settling into his curls of bleach blonde hair. “I was thinking the other day how we used to talk about moving in together when we both went to Handai, remember? Didn't really pan out, huh?”

Kenya tilted his head into the touch, all but resting it on Shiraishi’s shoulder. They had spent many years talking about just that - how they would suffer through entrance exams together, and when their hard work was finally recognized and they officially became Handai students, they would move in together and spend however many years they were in university for drinking and somehow managing the stress of their respective career choices.

But when his uncle had spent one family dinner talking about the National Center for Child Health and Development and all of the amazing treatment and research they did for children, Kenya set his sights elsewhere - testing for Toudai with the goal of ultimately landing a practicum at the health center, as it would be an amazing experience for his future as a pediatrician and he wanted to make a difference.

Yet, despite his resolve in pursuing those goals, it didn’t stop a full blown meltdown at the reality that it would take him away from Shiraishi, Yuushi, and everyone else Kenya loved and held dear. Ultimately he picked himself up, and through sniffles and tight, lingering hugs, he made the move to Tokyo, but there had been many nights where he had spent the nights lying around in bed, staring listlessly at the ceiling, and wondering what it would have been if he had just stayed in Osaka and followed the path of every Oshitari who came before him.

A few moments ticked by while Kenya fell deep into his thoughts, until he snapped out of them and realized that Shiraishi’s comment was more off-handed than anything else, and likely wasn’t meant to incite a deep session of introspection. “No, it didn’t,” he said with a laugh, turning the beer around in his hands to keep them busy. “Sometimes I think about it still. What it would have been like had things been different.” The thoughtful expression was soon replaced by a bright smile. “But things all worked out in the end.”

Shiraishi gave Kenya a warm, understanding smile. Wherever Kenya had just gone, it was much deeper into his own psyche than Shiraishi had intended with the comment. He knew to be mindful of Kenya’s anxiety, just as he knew not to rub a cat against the direction of its fur, but he didn't always know what was going to be that step too far. “Right, we’re here now, aren't we?” He took another drink of beer two and tried to push past the comment entirely. “And since we’re here, shouldn't we be doing something fun together? Sock sliding races around the house? Dressing Speedy in people clothing? Upside down jigsaw puzzles?”

He couldn’t help it - Kenya’s eyes shifted to where Mister Darcy stood in the corner, where he had been dressed up in a fancy Christmas outfit befitting of his name. It might have gone a bit far, he and Yuushi were extremely passionate about the anatomical skeleton who lived in their living room and was normally dressed with a top hat, but it was just like one of those aforementioned fun activities that he and Shiraishi would do, too.

“Obviously it should be sock sliding races,” Kenya declared decisively, sticking his foot out straight in front of him to display his obnoxious bright yellow fuzzy socks. “With these, nothing can go wrong.”

Shiraishi wiggled his toes to display his own socks that looked, at first glance, like proper dress socks, but on closer inspections had a subtle beetle print in a slightly off-black color. “Oh, it’s on,” he responded, momentarily forgetting about the beer and jumping to his feet. Nobody was going to beat Shiraishi Hallway Sock Racing Champion Kuranosuke at sock racing.





A couple of hectic hours that went by in the blink of an eye, between hallway sock racing, drinking, drinking while hallway sock racing, and playing a drinking game revolving around hallway sock racing, Shiraishi and Kenya were drunk.

Well, that was an understatement.

They were wasted.

It manifested in mad giggles at basically anything the other said, there was a half empty bottle of vodka being passed back and forth, and Kenya was all but splayed out across Shiraishi’s lap. “Kuuuuura,” he whined, gesticulating with the bottle in hand. “You didn’t answer my question ‘bout the daaaate.”

Shiraishi laughed easily, feeling like the person laughing was actually someone else and none of it was coming out of his body. He put a finger to Kenya’s lips to shush him. “Don’t whine, Ke~nya~” He couldn’t help the way he smiled at Kenya adoringly since his face always twisted in stupid ways when Kenya was around. He felt like he was blinking… very… slowly… looking at Kenya. He probably was. He also thought he might have lost a contact in the race because Kenya’s face was melting on one side. “Mm~ yeah, that wasn’t what I thought it would be....”

“Mm’yeah, exactly.” Shiraishi’s finger on his lips made it very difficult to speak and so Kenya did the best thing he could think to do to dissuade him - lick him.

Snapping his hand away, Shiraishi whined, “Ke~nya~, don’t doooo that.” He tried to put up a moping face, but it just dissolved into giggles, again, as soon as he looked at Kenya’s face. “Don’t just lick people,” he added between snorfles.

Kenya tried to keep up a mock serious expression until it too turned into a giggle fit. “But you did it first,” he proclaimed, twisting his body around so he could put his own finger to Shiraishi’s lips. “Seeeee? S’hard to do stuff when you’re like that.”

Unlike his uncultured and uncivilized breatherin, Shiraishi placed a soft kiss to the tip of Kenya’s fingers, closing his eyes as he did so. “You don’t have to be a licking monster.”

“Kuraaaa~” Kenya held onto the syllable of Shiraishi’s name unnecessarily too long, looking up at him with blue eyes full of mirth. “Don’t be a kissing monster, either~”

Shiraishi rested his face in his hand and tilted his head to regard Kenya with a bit of mischief in his eyes. “Don’t get to be, anymore. Yukarin would murder me.” Even though he said it, he bent down and kissed Kenya’s forehead chastely. It just seemed like the Thing to Do according to their great and powerful overlord Vodka. “That’d be another date that didn’t go as planned, huh?”

Even though the kiss was chaste, he closed his eyes and kept them closed even after Shiraishi pulled away. It made him feel warm all over - there was a sense of feeling safe with Shiraishi, and small gestures of physical affection had never been strange between them. It was over entirely too soon, his forehead felt kinda empty, but it wasn’t enough to keep him in the happy, drunken lull where he could easily fall asleep like that.

“Huh?” He opened his eyes to look up at Shiraishi. When had he fallen completely over? “Date?” He posed this as though he hadn’t just asked Shiraishi about a date moments before.

Shiraishi laughed, again. “I’ve decided I’m not telling you, after all.”

“Kuraaaa~” The whining resumed and Kenya twisted himself so that he could push himself upright, though in so doing happened to instead unceremoniously plop himself in Shiraishi’s lap with absolutely no motor control to keep him in line. “Y’gotta tell me.”

In the mess of limbs, Shiraishi attempted to stabilize Kenya and also stop him from squirming on his lap. Drunk Shiraishi brain could not process Kenya squirming on his lap without either a) sobering up or b) getting much, much drunker. “I don’t,” he argued weakly, feeling warmth swirling in his stomach from Kenya’s sudden proximity and the way his body moved against him.

“We don’t gotta keep secrets,” Kenya concluded sagely, though it was accented by leaning bodily against Shiraishi so that he could feel their shared heartbeat. Shiraishi was warm and cozy - if his forehead had to be without that warmth, well, the rest of him didn’t have to be. “Kura~”

For all his willpower and calm, there were some things even Shiraishi could not resist. One of them was that voice. He tried to detangle his thoughts before speaking so that it would come out coherently, but his alcohol-addled brain was giving him all the details out of order. “It was a good friend - I thought he had asked me on a date, turns out he didn’t think it was a date, too. I liked him, so, it was sad at first.” It was sad for a lot more than at first, but Shiraishi didn’t need to go into those sorts of details just like Kenya didn’t need to know who he was talking about.

That was really sad - Kenya didn’t want Shiraishi to like someone who didn’t like him back, but asked him out on a date that wasn’t actually a date. That wasn’t very nice. “That sucks, I’m sorry, bb.” Kenya tucked his face into Shiraishi’s neck, took in a deep breath, and settled himself more comfortably against him. It would be easy to pass out like that - there had been certainly enough beers and vodka to constitute it, but Kenya didn’t want to let go of the night when there was still so much that they could do.

“Maybe next time won’t be like that,” the continuation came out as a muffle into Shiraishi’s skin.

Shiraishi sucked in a sharp breath at the touch, feeling a shiver ripple through his body. The skin of his arms broke out in gooseflesh. “Kenya,” he muttered in the authoritative tone he had so often used as the once captain of Shitenhouji’s tennis team. Not that he wanted Kenya to move, he wanted Kenya to stay right there and to put his lips on his neck. Badly. “No… no it worked out,” he assured Kenya trying desperately to nail his feet to the ground as the world spun around him. “He found someone - they’re happy.”

“Yeah?” Kenya pulled away from Shiraishi’s neck so that he could look at him, unintentionally nearly putting them nose to nose. Personal bubbles and spacial awareness was not Kenya’s forte, especially not while drunk, but even he had the sense to try to pull himself back further to not be right up in Shiraishi’s face. Despite this, he could still feel Shiraishi’s warm breath playing against his skin. His words were partially slurred, but unusually serious as he said, “I want you to find happiness with someone, too, Kura.”

“I am happy, Kenya,” Shiraishi assured his long-time friend, putting one of his hands to Kenya’s cheek since it was so close to his face and so full and so touchable. Was touchable even a word? It seemed like it shouldn’t be but it probably was. His fingers slowly trailed down Kenya’s face before he remembered his original intention and put his hand more firmly on Kenya’s cheek. “I’m happy you’re happy. It’s…” Happy? “Good,” he settled on so as to not say “happy” again.

A smile that could part the cloudy sky took over Kenya’s entire face and he leaned his cheek into the touch. “I am happy and I’m happy that you’re happy, too.” Of course he was, there was basically no one else who could possibly be good enough for Yukari other than someone Shiraishi trusted with his life, but it really did mean the world that Shiraishi was so supportive of their relationship. Kenya always spoke with genuinity, he was just that sort of person at heart, but it was fueled even further by Shiraishi’s own authenticity that brought out the best in others.

Shiraishi felt a pit form in his stomach at the smile, that smile could end (or start) wars. “Speaking of that…” Shiraishi desperately fought to change the subject, wracking his mind for something that was guaranteed to make Kenya forget all about this whole date thing. Not that he was sure either of them would remember it - especially if Lord Vodka made another appearance in their evening. “Didn’t you tell me you were gonna bake my sister a cake for Christmas?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right.” And just as Shiraishi hoped, the conversation was all but forgotten as Kenya shifted his weight around and unintentionally fell backwards onto the couch, releasing Shiraishi from the bundle of limbs. “Yuushi’s gonna help me and I don’t know what we’re gonna make yet, but I just want it to be something that she loves.”

Which was a pretty lofty goal - Yukari was such an accomplished baker that it was probably going to be more endearing that Kenya put forth so much effort rather than fawning over the cake itself, but Kenya wanted to give it his best try. She had made him so many wonderful things over the year and with Christmas being their anniversary, Kenya wanted to make it all the more special, even if it meant that there would likely be two cakes.

Shiraishi followed Kenya’s movement, flopping half on top of him with a wicked smile. It might have been the vodka talking, he was usually the responsible one in the room, but a sly thought passed through his mind. “We should practice,” he declared. “Even if Yuushi is going to help you, it’s not going to be any good if you don’t practice, right?”

Kenya’s arms circled around Shiraishi’s back to keep him there, giving him a wicked grin in return. “Right, we totally should. We can make like… strawberry shortcake cake or something.” Yukari liked strawberries, didn’t she? Wasn’t the cake she made for Yuuji something with strawberries…? It was some sort of roll cake… Kenya couldn’t keep track of all the different types of cake there were.

“If it’s shortcake, isn’t it already cake?” Shiraishi wondered aloud, though he didn’t really have the answer, himself.

The cogs were unfortunately not turning at the expected speed and Kenya also fell into considerable thought. “Uh… but because shortcake is a type of cake, you have to add a cake modifier, right?” Was that how it worked? Language was hard.

Infectious giggles poured out of Shiraishi and he attempted to stand off of Kenya in one smooth, practiced motion but instead rolled inward and fell off the couch, landing flat on his back on the ground. The giggles turned into outright laughter as he laid there, looking up at the ceiling. “We’ll need,” he started to say, gasping for breath between the laughs. “Flour? Sugar? Do you even have normal milk?”

There was very little in the world more entertaining than watching a normally very graceful and very talented man attempt to get off the couch without falling, and then just absolutely failing at delivering. It was a great punchline to an otherwise classic joke. Kenya fell into similar laughter himself, clasping the back of the couch in his fists to drag himself up into a sitting position. “‘Course I got normal milk,” he said as he spun his legs around to touch feet to the ground and boldly stood up straight with only a slight wobble. “And eggs and stuff.”

Shiraishi hoisted himself up, taking up the vodka in his left hand. With his right, he fist-pumped for emphasis as he declared, “The winner is the one who bakes” and stumbled into the kitchen to see what they could make.

Kenya mirrored the fist-pump just like old time’s sake and the impassioned declaration of, “Yeah!” followed them into the kitchen.