No Title Set

Coffee and slightly burnt sugar and a hint of cinnamon-appley-goodness. That's the first thing anyone who enters the kitchen - no, actually, anyone who enters the main space at all - is going to be hit with. The origin of this scent is the oven, and the party responsible for this is peering into the oven anxiously, and scowling at his phone screen every so often.

"Maybe they're done," Saburo mutters to himself, "But what if they aren't? Can I just put them back in the oven? Maybe I should put foil on top?"

Saburo jumps out of his skin, or at least it feels like he does. Somehow he just absolutely didn't expect anyone to come in, even though there's always someone wandering in and out. "Well, the first is because neither of them is here right now," he says, straightening up and turning to greet his unexpected company with a sheepish grin.

"The second is because this looked really easy on YouTube, and I overestimated myself. Want to take a look? It's baked apples, upgraded Zelda style."

"You can have one, once they're done. The recipe I found makes four, and I was just going to leave the extras lying here anyway," Saburo offers, a relieved smile crossing his face. If the apple expert thinks they look good, then he might have pulled this off. "They're supposed to come out in like three minutes."

Her question earns a shrug, as the phone with the recipe is tucked away. "Sort of. I finished my homework, and half of next week's homework, and all the models I had plans for, and still needed something to do. Trying to shut my brain down."

Some people can hold a secret for their entire lives. Some people crumble at the first sign of inquisitive pressure. Saburo is the latter.

"Cinnamon is Hana's favorite flavor," is his immediate confession, and he might as well have admitted he flunked out of school or was moving to another country. "Nana likes apples. I remembered that when I woke up, and their favorite colors, and all these other random little things about them, and I'm not having much luck closing that box back up."

"Right - " He's spent the entire year trying to forget he has little sisters, and now he's forgotten who all is in the know about it. "I forgot I didn't mention it. They're my... little sisters, I guess."

It's not a guess, it's a fact, but those who live in denial are always trying to put off the facts. "I've been remembering things about them - and about my life before Beryl, for awhile and today it's just...especially, kind of bad."

"It's okay," he says instantly, because it is. "I haven't really wanted to talk about it. Me and Mamoru's well...not-fight, earlier this year, was because of how much I didn't want to talk about it." He definitely, absolutely, doesn't have any blame to pin on anyone who didn't know about this, because this is maybe the first time he's talked about it without wanting to pull his teeth out.

"The first one. They're thirteen now, and at least according to Facebook they're still with us." He winces a little at the thought and he can tell he's going to be checking that same website again, just to be sure. "My whole life kind of revolved around them. My - parents, weren't satisfied with me, so they made a replacement as soon as I was old enough for them to make me change the diapers."

There's a little wince, because yeah - that's the thing, he doesn't have it nearly as bad as some of the others, and that's not what Kyouko means (he can be sure of that, because if that's what she meant she would have said it) but it is what he's been thinking to himself, for a while. "Trust me, I'm grateful for that. They might have been awful, but at least they seem content with thinking I'm dead."

The scent of baking apples really is helpful - it's hard to tense up when there's cinnamon and sugar and tasty things in the air. It makes it easier to admit, "No. They were little kids, and they were good ones. It's not really fair, for me to avoid them but I kind of freaked when we ran into each other and that's been that."

"I do kind of want to get in touch. I think a year of being emo is all I can keep up," the oven beeps, and he breaks eye contact to focus on the baked goods and open the oven - immediately proving himself novice baker by looking in immediately and getting a blast of steam to the face. "I probably should have seen that coming."

He busies himself with taking the baked apples out of the oven and setting them on the counter, distractions from his thoughts and the very real problem Kyouko has brought up. But there's only so much effort involved in putting a baking pan down. "...I've thought about that. I don't want to end up having to deal with our parents again, and I don't want them end up getting involved in fighting monsters, but I'm pretty sure that telling them anything 'we can't be close because of all my enemies' is the number one way to have two magical girls for sisters."

That moment of silence is caused by the processing it takes for Saburo's brain to consider that idea, and then realize exactly how valid the concern is. That was a problem he hadn't even considered. "You want to eat one of those while I have an existential crisis? Really feeling like a less cool version of John Wick all of a sudden."

The baked apples are soft without collapsing, their centers having been hollowed out and filled with cinnamon and brown sugar and butter. The sugar that had dusted the tops has burnt a little, melting down the skin in what would probably be pretty tasty streaks. They're a lot better to think about than the idea of what could happen if one of their real enemies - the ones that weren't just creepy one and done monsters - decided to go after his little sisters. It might say something bad about him that he doesn't care if his parents get targeted. He'll accept that. "You have a really, really good point with that. It's not like our enemies would hesitate to go after them."

"That's exactly what he'd say," Saburo agrees, "And I'm positive they've been in touch with him, so they probably know a snippet of the truth, but yeah. I have to think about it. Kazuo's dad is old, and Neil's aunt is across the ocean. The Senshi all live with their civilian families... and I'd be the only one bringing kids into this, and just so you know it feels really weird realizing Usagi was basically a baby and you were like an embryo when you started fighting."

And that's not an insult but realizing that thirteen is basically a whole baby is wild. When did he become a complete adult?

At least the apples are good. "For real? I have to try one - ow, hot!" In his arrogance he has forgotten that only Kyouko is strong enough to heat hot food without pain. His own hand (not even his mouth!) is full of regrets.

"No, I know that, it just didn't seem weird before, and now I'm feeling the spirit of yikes enter my soul. Like, suddenly all the twelve year olds going around fighting monsters seem that little bit more horrifying than it used to. From 'well, yeah that's how it goes' to 'oh this is bad in fact'." He doesn't know if he's explaining this well, but, an attempt is being made.

The appleis judged cooler, and he tries taking an actual bite this time, while he gathers his thoughts. It really is good, he's pleased to note. "Yeah, I've got to do that sooner rather than later. We're already having to sue a stuffed animal to save your life and you aren't even a puella anymore."