บท 29: Excuse Me? Mommy? Sorry. Mommy?
The Next Day - Friday - 9:45 AM
"You're a petty piece of shit, you know that, right?" Miyuki bites in a semi-joking tone, "I can't believe you actually did that. You are unbelievably petty. Wow. I'm at a loss for words, so I don't even know how I'm talking right now."
Miyuki is shocked, and quite frankly feels disrespected, to know that Furuya slept in another room. The pitcher could have just woken him up after his shower and asked him to lay his ass on the carpet. Not that he would've obliged peaceably, but shit, he wouldn't have minded being shoved to the ground. Anything would have sufficed other than Furuya letting him sleep alone.
Furuya shrugs nonchalantly, explaining that he wasn't being serious and simply didn't want to disturb the catcher's peaceful rest. It's clearly worked, seeing how lively—and catty—Miyuki was this morning and that's honestly what he was aiming for.
Miyuki decides to call Mei and continue their conversation, so Furuya heads downstairs to get started on breakfast.
Entering the kitchen and opening the fridge, he pushes away multiple cans of beer before retrieving some leftover rice and miso soup. He also takes a carton of eggs.
He pours the soup into a small pot and heats it on the stove, then sticks the rice in the microwave for a few minutes. The sound of clattering echoes throughout the kitchen as he withdraws a pan from the pan rack. He turns on another flame and places the pan on it, drizzling some oil on the black surface. He cracks a few eggs, seasons them with some salt and pepper, whisks, and spills the mixture in the pan. He grabs a pair of chopsticks and rolls it into an omelet after letting it cook.
He turns off the stove and removes the rice from the microwave. He plates the food, divvying the amount as equally as he can before setting the bowls on a tray and heading towards the living room.
Concurrently, Miyuki trudges down the stairs, ending his phone call with Mei.
"We'll be back in Tokyo by Tuesday," he says as he approaches the living room, "Gosh, you're so clingy, it's not like we see each other that often anyway. Mei—I was joking, relax! Okay, maybe you are a bit clingy, but I didn't mean it like that. I gotta go, Furuya's waiting for me. What? You wanna talk to him?"
Furuya robotically turns his head around, eyebrows raised, 'No no no no,' he mouths pleadingly, but his efforts are futile when Miyuki puts the phone to his ear.
"…yes?" the raven-haired teen answers warily.
"Pregnant or not," Mei says, "he's mine. Kazuya told me everything so don't be surprised. Spending the week together means absolutely nothing. Eating together, sleeping in the same room, or whatever you two plan on doing in your neck of the woods doesn't negate the fact that he's mine. Got it?"
"You're a child," Furuya deadpans.
"Huh?"
"You heard what I said, Narumiya. You're a child. Your pretentious attitude is a nuisance, just like your height. Miyuki-senpai isn't yours because if he was, you wouldn't be trying so hard to prove it. You are a delusional, emotionally unstable, incorrigible hopeless-romantic midget and I wholeheartedly hope you find help. Now if you'll excuse me, goodbye."
"BITCH—"
"I didn't give you permission to respond."
Furuya tugs Miyuki's phone away from his ear and hangs up.
The catcher belts out an uncontrollable laugh as he sits next to the pitcher on the sofa, "Hahaha! I'm dying! H-Holy shit, where did that come from? You didn't have to obliterate him like that! Haha!"
The clump of rice that was on its way to Furuya's mouth slips back in the bowl as he puts down his chopsticks and leans back, arms crossed. His lips form a slight pout.
"It kind of…came out," he says, "Just because you two are close doesn't mean I'm going to let him talk to me in that manner. Who does he think he is? That was uncalled for and now I'm in a bad mood. I lost my appetite."
"We can't have that. Morning sickness spared you today and you managed to cook us a nice breakfast. You need to eat."
"They were leftovers. As I said, I'm not hungry."
"That doesn't matter. I appreciate the effort. Come on, ahh."
Furuya looks over to see Miyuki holding a slice of the rolled omelet to his mouth, waving it about teasingly. He gives him a blank stare for a while before giving in. He moves forward, but Miyuki pulls back.
"What now?" Furuya asks.
"Only if you promise not to sleep in the guest room tonight."
"Fine."
Content, Miyuki feeds Furuya the omelet and proceeds to eat his own breakfast. The eggs are a bit overcooked for his liking, but he remains silent lest he gets a taste of Furuya's sass.
They flip through the channels and tune into an early morning baseball game. Their bodies are itching with the desire to play, sweat, shout, and feel the sun beaming down on them from above.
Miyuki tilts his head to eat the rest of his miso soup and expels a heavy sigh, "I miss the field."
Furuya nods, "I agree."
As he's about to collect their dishes and head to the kitchen, the front door unlocks.
'Finally, she's here,' he thinks, 'Where was she?'
The door opens and a tall woman enters. Her raven hair is midway down her back, with two sections from each side of her head tied in a knot posteriorly. Her slim and fit figure is accentuated by a tank top and leggings, and one cannot help but be entranced by her upper body.
Her breasts are fucking huge.
Miyuki is hypnotized by them as the woman sees Furuya and immediately traps him in a tight hug.
"Ruru, you're here!" she exclaims cheerfully.
"Wow," Miyuki marvels, "is that your sist—"
"Hi, Mom," Furuya drawls.
"MOM?!"
It is at this moment Miyuki transcends into an out-of-body experience. Everything is muted, everything goes black. He is weightless, floating in a space of nothingness. Mental fireworks in the shape of breasts explode in every corner of his mind. He is questioning his existence, his sexuality, and most importantly, the limitless horizons of anatomy and genetics.
Furuya knows exactly what Miyuki was going through as the same thing happened to every man, woman, whatnot, who encountered his mother thus far. He waves his hand in front of his face frantically.
"Earth to senpai…hello…senpai!"
Miyuki snaps back to reality and wipes the drool that's crawling down his chin, "Ah, sorry! I didn't…I don't know what happened there. Wow, you're Furuya's mother? N-Nice to meet you, I'm Miyuki Kazuya."
He's waiting for an equal exchange, but it turns out that Furuya's mother was in a trance of her own. Although Miyuki was wearing his signature red and white shirt with sweatpants, it's as if her hawk eyes were piercing through his clothes, studying his toned muscles.
"Mom! Not you, too," Furuya's slightly raised voice wakes her up, but he's already lost hope for this situation. He steers past them to wash the dishes.
"Ruru, why is there such a fine young man in my house?" she asks suggestively, wriggling her brows, "I'm Furuya Kasumi, by the way. I doubt there'll be any need for formalities between us, Kazuya-kun."
Miyuki reciprocates her wave with the most respectful bow he's ever performed, "You can call me whatever you want," he says excitedly.
Furuya can only listen in repulsion. Just like he's scrubbing the plates, he wishes he can scrub his ears until he goes deaf.
His mother was a shameless flirt with anything that moved, and the fact that Miyuki was good-looking only escalated this nightmare.
Kasumi asks what the two of them are doing here, and having rehearsed their excuse of the Seido dorms being shut down for repairs, they're believed without question.
"Well, welcome to Hokkaido, Kazuya-kun," Kasumi says, "I know we're not as fancy as Tokyo, but I think you'll find it relaxing and a nice change of pace."
"Of course," Miyuki says, "I'm definitely looking forward to spending time here with you."
"With us," Furuya stresses.
Kasumi lightly slaps her son on the back, "Don't be so territorial, Ruru. There's enough of him to go around."
"Mom!"
She laughs as she removes her tracksuit top and heads to the first-floor bathroom for a shower, returning from an intense jog. Meanwhile, Miyuki walks up to Furuya and slings his arm around his shoulder, smirking.
"I can't believe it," he whispers, although the sound of running water was loud enough to muffle his voice, "Your mom is hot! What the actual hell? How could you not tell me and the guys about her?"
Furuya uses his thumb and index finger to remove Miyuki's arm from his shoulder, sporting a look of playful disgust, "There was no reason to mention her in conversation, so it never came to mind. Besides, the majority of the team is gay."
"Doesn't mean we can't ogle at a pair of humungous tits. This hurts to say, but they're better than Rei-chan's."
"That's not an observation I particularly care about. Let's finish watching the game."
The next half hour is filled with debates, predictions, and tense shouts as they immerse into the baseball game. They were playing vicariously through it, but they wanted nothing more than to travel through the TV screen and join the players in their fight to victory.
Their radiating ravenous thirst is interrupted when Kasumi returns, refreshed and casually dressed. She asks Miyuki if he wants to lend a hand at the family bakery for the day. Miyuki suppresses his dislike for desserts with an enthusiastic yes.
Furuya is still in a sour mood, so he declines.
"You gonna be okay by yourself?" Miyuki asks once Kasumi goes to start the car, "I don't want you missing my beautiful face while I'm gone."
Furuya lies down on the sofa, fetal position, "I'd rather miss your beautiful face than be present while you and my mom are flirting. That would make me more nauseous than food."
"So you admit I have a beautiful fa—"
"You have five seconds to leave."
Furuya glares daggers at Miyuki and the latter cackles as he ruffles the younger teen's hair.
"Be good," he says, and he's gone.
A few minutes pass and the baseball game is mere background noise as Furuya pets his head. Generally, it was a common and meaningless action, but he couldn't stop replaying Miyuki's last gesture in his mind.
'I don't get it,' he thinks, 'How starved am I of physical contact that everything he does drives me crazy? I want more…I need more…'
--
Quaint, modest houses situated underneath a grayish-blue sky are a blur during the ride to the bakery. Kasumi was right when she said that being here would be a change of pace from Tokyo.
In Hokkaido, there was no rush or hustle and bustle. Everyone took their time to savor what the day had to offer, and Miyuki unquestionably savored the moment when a very fortunate bump in the road caused Kasumi's breasts to jiggle.
"I freaking hate these things," she chuckles as she readjusts them, "They have a mind of their own. I would ask if you've ever fondled a pair, but you baseball freaks are all either gay or sad virgins, and you clearly fall into the first category."
Miyuki scoffs, "We've only been acquainted for twenty minutes; how did you know I'm gay?"
"Honey, with a face like that, you can't possibly be a virgin. I will drive this car off the road if I'm wrong."
"For my safety, I'll let you have this one."
They share a laugh that simmers into a light conversation. Miyuki explains how he isn't a big sweets person, but Kasumi reassures him. Her bakery prepped and sold varieties of bread, sandwiches, and other confectionaries she guaranteed would please his palate.
"It's funny how I call it a family bakery," Kasumi says as she finds a spot to park, "because aside from the few chefs I have in the back, I'm the one that runs it. Ruru's not interested in anything except baseball and my husband's never around for a substantial amount of time.
"Business trips and all that jazz. I'm essentially a one-woman army, so I'm overly ecstatic you've joined me, Kazuya-kun. Say, mind being my mini hubby for the day? I know you don't swing that way, but…"
Miyuki would be a fool to refuse Kasumi's twinkling eyes and clasped hands, an absolute fool.
"I don't mind at all," he says as they exit the car, "There's nothing wrong with expanding my tastes." 'She's really coming onto me…Furuya's gonna be jealous—okay, what the fuck.'
He's dumbstruck by the elegant purple script on the awning of Kasumi's bakery:
Yeast Infection.
"Seriously?!" Miyuki shouts incredulously as he holds the door open for the older woman, "You couldn't come up with a better name, or did you have to let your vulgarity shine through?"
"You know me so well," Kasumi chirps, "Bread is our most popular item, so it gets the job done. Bread, yeast, infectious taste, get it?"
Miyuki sighs in exasperation, "Something like Infectious Yeast would've worked just fine..."
Yeast Infection's interior was, thankfully, nothing like its name.
The wooden walls were decorated with quirky art pieces and small floral arrangements. The tables were made of rich mahogany, their surfaces covered with tablecloths of pastel pinks, whites, and blues. From the ceiling hung intricate light fixtures akin to miniature chandeliers. On the left side of the bakery was the display counter of baked treats for sale.
Miyuki peers at them, fascinated by just how sophisticated and surprisingly delicious they seemed.
"As I said, I don't fancy sweet stuff, but that lemon tart is calling my name."
Upon hearing that, Kasumi rushes behind the counter and retrieves a slice of lemon tart. She leans over and puts it to Miyuki's mouth, "Ahhh."
The bespectacled teen takes a bite and his tastebuds perform Olympic-worthy somersaults. The sharp citrus of the lemon is balanced by the butteriness of the pastry base, and the raspberry on top adds a layer of freshness to the party in his mouth.
"It slaps, doesn't it?" Kasumi nudges with a wink, "That's what you kids say nowadays, right? That shit slaps. I've worked on that recipe with one of my chefs for ages."
"I might be a convert," is all Miyuki can say.
She hands him another slice before they enter the kitchen.
It's a roomy working area with stainless steel countertops, ovens, refrigerators, etc. There are currently three pastry chefs busying about, pumping out fresh delicacies before the bakery opens its doors. Kasumi grabs their attention for a moment to introduce them to Miyuki, and two of the female chefs immediately start swooning.
"Hey!" Kasumi snaps, "He belongs to me, so don't get your panties in a twist for nothing."
"So territorial," the catcher remarks through a mouthful of tart, "just like your son."
Kasumi gasps in shock and the chefs scurry back to their stations to avoid their boss' incoming implosion, but Miyuki says he was only kidding to pacify her.
Washing their hands and tying their aprons, they walk over to an unoccupied space. Kasumi opens a bag of flour and other ingredients.
"Kazuya-kun."
"Yes?"
"How good are you with your hands?"
"Depends on how I'm using them, Kasumi-san."
They exchange a mischievous yet flirtatious look, then begin making simple loaves of bread.
--
12:00 PM
Furuya awakens from his nap feeling dutiful. He goes upstairs to his room and fixes the bed, vacuums the carpet, and opens the windows for some fresh ventilation.
'We're going to be here for a while, so I should unpack our stuff properly,' he thinks.
His closet is large enough, so after hanging up his own clothes, he drags Miyuki's bag in front of it. However, he stops himself short of opening it.
He and Miyuki were progressing, but would he be comfortable with him digging through his possessions? He wasn't doing it with malice or the intent to snoop around, but his upperclassman was a person of unpredictable reactions. This could set them back a reasonable amount if Miyuki believed he had betrayed his trust.
Using his better judgment, Furuya shoots him a text asking for permission. His phone vibrates seconds later.
[Messages - Miyuki-senpai]
Miyuki-senpai: Too busy making bread the size of your mom's rack. Feel free
Furuya: Please stop talking about my mother's assets.
Miyuki-senpai: Then grow a pair and I'll show you some attention
Furuya: Senpai, that's physically impossible.
Miyuki-senpai: Sounds like a you problem lmao. See ya
Furuya rolls his eyes at the end of their correspondence. Even via text message, Miyuki was still an absolute dickhead.
He unzips his bag, hanging and folding the shirts and pants with care. He hears a muted impact after pulling out the last pair of pants and looks at the carpet.
It's a small bottle. Curious, Furuya picks it up and reads the label.
"Sleeping pills for insomnia…"
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redpenkiller
redpenkiller I really strived to write Furuya's mom as the complete opposite of Furuya, making her fun, inappropriate, outrageously vulgar, and "down with the kids." And yes, I'm doing the whole "oh big tiddies" gimmick to mock authors who overexaggerate about them, sorry lmao. I hope you guys enjoy Kasumi's character and love her as much as I do <3
Also, chapters will now be every Wednesday and Saturday.
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