章節 34: PiCUNTe Buns with Actual Cunts
The Same Day - Saturday - Concurrently - Tomakomai, Hokkaido
"My son is pregnant," Kasumi says to herself somberly, her voice barely carrying a sound.
Self-care was her preferred method of therapy, so she's getting ready to shave her legs. Slipping out of her robe, she grabs a can of shaving cream and a spiffy new razor from the woven basket of toiletries on the sink. Turning on the shower's faucet, she wets her left calf in warm water before slathering on a layer of cream. It's cold against her skin.
Uncapping her razor, she places her foot on the edge of the tub and goes to work. With precise movements, she glides up, rinses the blades, and repeats until her calf is smooth and silky. She switches to her other calf, then her thighs until the process is complete. She uses a damp cloth to wipe off any excess cream.
"What am I going to do with a pregnant son?" she asks herself.
As she waits for the tub to fill up for her bath, she retrieves a bag of Epsom salt and a bottle of lavender essence. She pours in a generous amount of both once the wait is over then swirls the mixture around with her hand. Content, she ties her hair in a bun and sinks inside.
Her skin is immediately hit with a tingling sensation and it elicits a sigh of satisfaction from her. The potent scent of lavender wafts up to her nostrils, a wave of tranquility washing over her.
It's bliss amongst the thoughts running rampant through her head.
'Nothing makes sense. My Ruru, my little fifteen-year-old Ruru, is pregnant? By Kazuya-kun? Well, I had a hunch that Ruru liked him because why else would he invite a boy over, but I didn't know there was more to it. They're going to be parents at such a young age and Ruru's steadfast in seeing it through…this is my fault. I can't control his actions, but I should've been more strict on laying ground rules. Date responsibly, have sex responsibly!
'Reinforcing those two simple rules could have prevented this string of events, probably. Maybe. I don't know. I don't think so. Ever since middle school, Ruru's led a life of his own that ended up hurting him, and I couldn't do anything because I thought he would resent me. I didn't want to be that pestersome parent who nagged their child 24/7. I wanted to be cool and easygoing because I was a young mother. I guess the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree after all.'
Kasumi fully submerges into the water, holding her breath for as long as possible before popping her head back up and resuming her thoughts.
'When Ruru said he wanted to go to Tokyo for high school, I thought it was a wonderful idea at the time. It was the fresh start he desperately needed to escape from his past, erase those memories, and focus on baseball, but now…damn. I let him further out of my reach, unsupervised, and into a new city all alone.
'I couldn't protect him and practically fed him to the wolves because I trusted him. I trusted he would change, but it's not even a semester into his first year and he's fallen into bed with someone. Don't get me wrong, Kazuya-kun is a top-tier human being. Incredible. I wouldn't want anyone else to be the father, however, this entire situation is far from ideal.'
Kasumi looks at her feet and sees that they're getting pruny, so she decides that it's time to end her self-care session and hops out. She dries her body with a towel before wearing her robe again. She drains the tub, rinses it, slips into her bunny slippers, and turns off the lights in the bathroom.
The wooden floorboards creak under her weight as she walks through the hallway. Furuya's room is to her right, and she quietly opens the door to peek in.
The teens are sharing the bed, Furuya's head resting on Miyuki's shoulder. Miyuki's finally fallen asleep, having taken his sleeping pills at the pitcher's behest.
Kasumi smiles as she leans against the doorway, arms crossed in front of her.
'I got this,' she thinks, 'I can be a better mother, starting now. I will support both of them to my utmost ability and guarantee that everything goes smoothly. I will help them bond. Whatever they need, I will provide. Whenever they need me, I will be there. I will dedicate the rest of my life to being a great mother and an even greater grandmother. I can do this, Ruru, Kazuya-kun. We can do this. I won't let you guys down. I promise.'
Kasumi closes the door softly before heading to her room and retiring for the night.
--
The Next Day - Sunday - 6:50 AM
Miyuki's grown accustomed to getting his hands sticky and dirty.
With dough.
He's been at Yeast Infection since five in the morning perfecting his new recipe ahead of opening.
PiCUNTe, his cleverly named creation, is a large bun—his initial plan of making a regular bread wasn't appealing anymore—flavored with spices he thought would marry well together: cinnamon, nutmeg, cardamom, allspice, anise seeds, smoked paprika, and to give it a tinge of sweetness and elevate the scent, some orange zest and vanilla bean.
Okay, perhaps he lied a bit. There was absolutely no thought process behind the spices he used; he just dumped whatever seemed like a good idea in the kitchen's pantry.
The real test came to measuring them and ensuring one flavor didn't overpower the other. It's been his vice for the past hour and he wasn't making any steady progress. Too much smoked paprika and it was like biting into a pepper, and too much cinnamon was like a mouthful of a gingerbread man's penis.
"I need to get it together," Miyuki says, starting a new batch, "I didn't think this would be so frustrating. I know how to cook food, but baking is in a different league of its own. Kasumi-san must be seriously talented since she's made a livelihood out of this."
After the dough mixture is finished, he cracks his neck as it's time to measure up the spices again.
'Alright, Kazuya. Use your brain, use your palate, channel your inner Gordon Ramsay. If this doesn't work, I might or might not lose my mind. Here goes.'
Sifting, grinding, blending, chopping, deseeding, and measuring with scales and teaspoons takes him twenty grueling minutes. Brushing the top of the dough with egg wash, he crosses his fingers as he puts it in the oven and sets the timer.
--Forty Minutes Later--
"It smells like someone had a mental breakdown and spilled every single spice around this place," Kasumi remarks as she walks into the kitchen. She hangs up her coat and replaces it with an apron, "Whatcha got for me, honey?"
Miyuki hands her a bun, "Cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, cardamom, anise, and smoked paprika with vanilla and orange zest—"
"Did you just say smoked paprika? I've never heard of paprika with this assortment of ingredients in my entire baking career. You better be onto something, because I will not hold back."
Taking a bite, Kasumi pushes the piece around her mouth, sticking it under her tongue, doing everything she's learned to extract the flavors. Her inner critic is humbled.
"You big-brained handsome devil," Kasumi praises, blushing, "This shit slaps! Even I'm shocked that these words are coming out of my mouth. It's original and tasty, but I think we can cut out the paprika. Doesn't really need it. Valiant effort, though. I'm proud, Kazuya-kun."
Miyuki feels his cheeks burning as that last sentence reverberates through his head. The last time he's been complimented and lauded by an older woman was a memory that didn't exist. His heart is fluttering with the desire to continue making Kasumi proud, not only in the kitchen but with Furuya.
Last night went contrary to his expectations. Kasumi was a softhearted person with a loose cannon of a mouth, so he believed she would at least have some choice words for them.
Nothing of the sort occurred. She just sighed and cried, embracing them as they sat on opposite sides of her. She vowed to be supportive and loving, and that was enough for Miyuki.
'It sucks that we lied,' he thinks, 'but it was for the greater good. I would fall permanently sick if she ended up hating me. I'd go insane.'
"Where did you get the name from?" Kasumi asks, snapping him out of his thoughts, "It sounds funny."
"The guys at school say I have a twisted personality, so I just equated that with 'cunt' and the rest is history."
"You? A twisted personality? They must be mistaken!"
"Don't let this face fool you. I've been on my best behavior."
"Kazuya-kun, you're about to make me act up!" Kasumi gushes as she opens a bag of flour and dashes a handful across the counter, "Flirting aside, we gotta get to work. I don't know how well these will sell, so let's make around a hundred for safety measures."
Miyuki gasps, "A hundred?"
"Yes! You think this running a bakery shit is easy? Get your little impregnating behind over here before I crack an egg on your head!"
"Impregnating behi—how quickly you switch from being charming to harsh is scary, Kasumi-san…"
--
5 Hours Later - 12:50 PM
"Thank you for your purchase!"
Miyuki has learned the act of fan service from Kasumi, so he makes a finger heart and winks at the female customer. She squeals and waves goodbye as she walks out.
"You keep amazing me, Kazuya-kun," Kasumi says as she clears down a table, "The girls keep pouring in, and not only that, but your PiCUNTe buns are selling faster than I thought they would. We only have like what, four left?"
"Three," Miyuki confirms, looking inside the display counter, "I was a tad nervous at first, but then I remembered what a culinary genius I am and realized I had nothing to fret about."
"Oh, brother." The older woman rolls her eyes playfully.
She carries the plates to the back then returns to take a customer's order at her register, "Warm foods are normally preferred during the winter, but here in Hokkaido, there's pretty much no difference."
Miyuki nods in understanding. He goes to refill a table's cup of coffee and handles another order. Kasumi hears the timer ding from the kitchen and says that she has to check on the other pastries, so Miyuki is in charge for a while.
The chimes in the doorway jingle and a teenage boy walks in. He has strong features with sharp eyebrows and short, dark hair. A mitt is attached to one netted pocket of his backpack, a metal bat nestled in the other.
"Yo," he says.
Miyuki turns to him and bows slightly, "Welcome. What can I get for you?"
The boy bends over and analyzes the display, his eyes resting on the PiCUNTe buns.
"Huh? I ain't ever seen these here before," he mutters. He reads the list of flavors and chuckles, "Sounds wild. And I like the name. Cunt. I'll take two to stay."
"You won't regret it. That'll be $8.67."
Miyuki's brow narrows as the boy hands him several bills. His palms are rough, red, and calloused, the obvious makings of a pitcher.
'He plays ball,' he thinks, giving him his change and placing two buns on a tray, 'This could be interesting.'
The boy thanks him and sits in the middle of the bakery, invading Miyuki's field of vision. He sniffs a bun, tears a piece, and chews. His eyes light up.
"This shit bangs," he compliments, "Did Kasumi make this?"
"I did," Miyuki says bashfully, "I'm glad you like it."
"Cool." 'Hmm. Somethin's botherin' me. He looks familiar, but I can't put my finger on it. Damn.'
It doesn't take long for the boy to wolf down his meal. One, it was the most bizarre yet unique thing he's ever tasted, and two, he and Miyuki kept accidentally locking eyes and he needed to do something about it.
"Yo," he says as he walks to the display counter, setting his tray on it, "you play any sports?"
"Baseball," Miyuki responds, "I'm a catcher."
"Then you could prolly tell by my hands that I'm a pitcher."
"Looks like we're a great match."
"When's your shift end?"
"Not till later in the afternoon, but I have my break in a few."
"Perfect. Humor me and let's play some catch when you're done. I'll be outside."
--
The boy conveniently has a catcher's mitt in his backpack, so they go to a park near the bakery and warm up in a spot near the far end.
Miyuki punches the mitt and squats, "Right down the middle."
"Gotcha." The boy winds up, lifts his leg, then swings his arm through.
BANG!
'Ah, okay,' Miyuki realizes, throwing the ball back, 'That pitch told me everything I needed to know. He's one of those pitchers, arrogant and selfish. I despise them, but love whipping them into shape.'
"You caught that shit pretty well," the boy says, pitching again, "I've been meaning to ask, what's your name? You look familiar. Name's Hongō Masamune, by the way."
"Miyuki Kazuya."
"What school you go to?"
"Ha, what is this, an interview? I go to Seido Highschool."
Masamune visibly slackens. His face contorts with anger and he squeezes the ball tightly in his hand.
"Seido, huh? So that's where that fucking slut Furuya ran off to. Fucking bitch."
Miyuki cocks his head in confusion, "F-Furuya? As in Furuya Satoru? We're on the same team. Did you just call him a…slut?"
"Yeah, I did."
"You should start explaining yourself."
Masamune places his hands at his sides, "He's my ex-boyfriend. Well, not really cause he never officially broke up with me. He fucking ran away to Tokyo, thinking he could start anew or some shit like that. When he was here, he was dirty, bro. Dirty. Sucking and fucking everyone on our team like it was no one's business. Until I claimed him, of course."
Miyuki's confusion is slowly brewing into irritation, "What the hell are you talking about? Furuya's told us he's never been in a relationship, much less had sex. You must have the wrong person. He doesn't even seem the type to do what you just described."
"Hahaha! That's the excuse that slut came up with? Good one! He's totally pulled a wool over your eyes! He created a new identity and it actually fucking worked!"
"What are you trying to say?"
"I'm saying..." Masamune winds up to pitch again, leg hanging in the air, teeth bared.
"...Furuya wasn't a virgin when he went to Seido."
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