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“Karasuma-senpai, would you like some meat pies to take home?”
The mentioned scruffy-haired member of Tamakoma-1 blinked at the impromptu question. He had just returned from evening patrol duty and was about to head home after writing his report. His precious student was offering him meat pies? Who was he to refuse?
“Sure. What’s the occasion?”
“Kuga and Chika wanted me to teach them how to make pastries. We ended up doing a lot of… lessons. Yes.” Karasuma could see his pupil visibly sweat drop.
Osamu misinterpreted Karasuma’s stare as hesitation. He started acting a bit more flustered.
“I-It’s not bad tasting or anything! I think these came out pretty decently! I thought it’d be a waste not to share and…”
Karasuma gave a small smile and ruffled Osamu’s hair.
“Thank you, Osamu. I really appreciate it.”
“No, it should be me thanking you…”
Osamu smiled shyly at him.
‘That smile sure suits Osamu.’ was the innocent thought that ran through Karasuma’s mind.
…
After that, every week or so Osamu would bring him some samples of Tamakoma Second’s latest concoctions. They varied from sweets to other baked goods, to even dishes from different regions around the world. Apparently, Osamu’s family was relatively well-off, and being the teenagers Tamakoma-2 were, they had no better way to spend their salary from Border.
“Kuga and Chika said they really enjoyed having me teach them how to cook, so we made it a custom,” Osamu had explained one day.
Not like Karasuma was complaining. The food Osamu made with his team was delicious, and sometimes they made so much that they could feed a small country. Even a few of his family members had started looking forward to the weekly offerings.
“I don’t think I’m that good. My mom is a lot better. Not to mention, Kuga, Chika and occasionally the others help out quite a bit.” Osamu was modest whenever he received a compliment.
“Osamu plans out the recipe and does all the difficult parts, though. The food is pretty much done all by him.” Chika would blush lightly, proud of her friend.
“Yeah, Osamu’s curry is decent, but I think the one I make is still a lot better,” Konami had piped up, feeling confident.
Yuuma hummed in response. “Hmm… I think Osamu’s curry rivals yours pretty well. Aren’t you just being a sore loser, Konami-senpai?” The white-haired boy responded cheekily.
“Wh-why you…!” Konami put Osamu in a head-lock, veins popping. (‘Why me?!’ Osamu silently cried out.)
“Can you make fried chicken next time?” Reiji asked while eating his third helping of the spaghetti and meatballs Osamu and company made this time around.
“S-sure thing, Reiji-san,” Osamu wheezed out after Konami stopped her violence.
Karasuma’s eyes lit up at the thought. ‘Fried chicken. There’ll be fried chicken next week.’ His mouth started salivating at the thought. The change in his expression was barely detectable, though.
Osamu would sometimes ask for suggestions from the other Tamakoma HQ members. Reiji would always choose something with a lot of protein in it. Konami, Usami and Youtaro looked forward to sweets. Chief Rindo enjoyed trying out meals from different countries. Jin, being Jin, never made a suggestion. Karasuma, though, was pretty much happy with anything, but yes, he liked meat.
‘Ah, those meat pies he made that time were really good,’ Karasuma thought. Maybe he should ask Osamu to make them next time.
After a few months, however, it came to the point that whenever Karasuma saw Osamu, his mouth would involuntarily start to salivate. That wasn’t good. People would start thinking he was a pervert if he kept this up.
…
“Karasuma-senpai, I have an extra bento, would you like it?”
The mentioned teenager paused. It was Sunday morning, and he had been finishing up a new training regime for his pupil (who was had been doing relatively well recently) when said pupil walked in.
“…” Karasuma stared at Osamu, an unreadable expression on his face.
“U-um. I made ones for Kuga and Chika, too, but there were a lot of leftovers so…”
“Osamu, are you trying to seduce me with food?” He said in a serious tone.
“I, uh, n-no?” He could see the other boy visibly sweating.
“…I’m sorry, it was a joke. That is very kind of you, Osamu. I would love it. Thank you.”
Karasuma noted the small smile of relief on his pupil’s face.
“I have a new training program for you. Would you like to try it out?”
“Y-yes, sir!”
…
Karasuma carefully un-wrapped the blue plaid cloth covering the bento. Had he done or said anything out of the ordinary? Ah, now that he thought about it… he might have let slip that he was skipping lunch the other day so he could get to one of his part-time jobs on time.
He smiled softly as he saw the contents of the bento. It contained a few of his favorite side dishes next to a plentiful helping of rice.
Honestly, he didn’t know who was taking care of whom at this point.
…
Karasuma returned the empty bento box and cloth, washed and dried, to his pupil the next day. “Osamu, would you like to get married?” He asked with his full-on poker face, a gleam in his eye.
Osamu spluttered and blushed in embarrassment.
…
(Bonus)
“Osamu and I are getting married.” Karasuma had said one day over breakfast.
Chief Rindo promptly spit out his coffee.
Konami spluttered and choked on her toast.
Usami gasped, her cup slipping through her fingers; Jin adeptly caught the poor mug before it could hit the ground.
Reiji paused mid-bite, but then continued to calmly eat his eggs.
Yuuma and Chika were staring at Osamu on the couch, mouths full of food.
Osamu, as per usual, was sweating buckets.
“…”
“Ah, he fainted.”
…
This was bad. Just looking at his dear pupil’s face was enough to get his heart to beat faster. And his mouth to start salivating.
He was a full-on pervert wasn’t he.
Karasuma sighed, putting his face in his hands.