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Yuuta's toes are numb.
So are his fingers. And his nose. And all of his appendages, really.
Much to his chagrin, the buses aren’t running today. Yuuta planned to walk to work instead, but a cold front came in out of nowhere, turning the weather crisp and bitter with the telltale shimmer of magic.
In August.
Someone must have messed up a spell or an unfamiliar creature started migrating, which happens all the time, but now Yuuta's morning is jumbled. The class he's scheduled to teach starts in under an hour, and it takes over thirty minutes to get there.
Not only is he almost (definitely) going to be woefully, dreadfully late- but he probably won't be able to talk, either. A pit sinks in his stomach as his eyes tear up from the harsh wind, teeth chattering.
I should have brought a thicker jacket. Or, like any jacket, Yuuta scorns internally, feeling pitiful. I'm an idiot.
His threadbare hoodie isn't doing much, even as he desperately hugs it closer. A sharp tang of rain dances in the air, and Yuuta groans. As if this day couldn't get any worse.
Desperate to seek respite from the unexpected cold, Yuuta veers towards a storefront with a quaint wooden sign outside reading, 'Bakery'.
"T-they should... have coffee or something w-warm, right?" Yuuta thinks aloud, voice shaking. There's no other signage indicating their menu, but it looks open and Yuuta is freezing.
He pushes inside, jumping at the immediate sound of a harsh, electronic doorbell. Yuuta looks up and sees a normal shopkeeper’s bell hanging above the door, made of polished brass. An ornate stand affixes it to the wall, decorated with a curling garden snake.
Huh. Yuuta stares a breath longer before tearing his eyes away, looking around the bakery instead.
It's not too small, but the amount of product stocking the shelves causes it to be comfortably cramped. Wooden racks of jams and honey glistening in jars line the room, next to stray plants and flower vases. The walls are painted a deep purple the color of ripe plums, with blinking fairy lights haphazardly strewn near the top, almost as if whoever hung them couldn't reach all the way.
If it wasn't for the trays on trays of baked goods laying around, Yuuta would think he'd walked into someone's living room.
Speaking of which, just looking at the food makes Yuuta's mouth water. There are pies glazed golden and crackling with wash, spilling plump cherries out of their latticed tops. He spots croissants ribboned with matcha-green dough and melting blueberries, muffins with generous helpings of chocolate chips and dusted with powdered sugar.
Dried bushels of lavender and sage hang from the ceiling above the front counter, earthy stalactites tied carefully with bows of twine. The smell of yeast and sugar hugs Yuuta warmly, leading him further inside.
"Um, is-" Yuuta says, interrupted by his coughing. His palms sweat despite the chill on his skin. "Excuse me, ah... Hello? Anyone here?"
He looks for something to ring and announce himself, or a note from the owner, but all he sees is a blank easel chalkboard. And more pastries. Sugar-iced rolls shining with fat and tarts overstuffed with colorful fruits, even tins of homemade syrups and teas labeled with different uses and flavors.
Unfamiliar sigils are etched in the dark wood, burning with a gentle glow of magic Yuuta doesn't recognize. He leans down to get a better look at the contents inside, pressing his face to the glass.
"White rosebud tea," he reads aloud, craning his head to see the words. "For luck in... love?"
Behind the counter, someone clears their throat.
Yuuta slams his head against the countertop as he stumbles upright. His vision swims, everything black and starry, before the throbbing ebbs and he finally sees straight.
The man in front of him is younger than he was expecting. And... shorter.
He's a whole head smaller than Yuuta, with fluffy hair as pale as spider silk falling straight across his forehead. Arcane tattoos, so pale they look like old scars, carve eyelets leading to the corners of his lips. But what catches Yuuta off-guard more than any of this are his eyes.
They're a gem-bright violet with slit pupils, like a reptile.
"Um, you-" Yuuta starts, before no more words come out. He chokes on nothing and the baker lifts an eyebrow. "You... Do you work here?"
Good one.
He smiles back before nodding, his expression playful. His eyes seem to glow and flicker, like a dying star at twilight, and then Yuuta hears chalk scraping.
The words: "I do. Need something?" float onto the small easel board from before. The handwriting is thick and scrawled, matching the script on each card and label in the shop.
And the baker's name tag, which reads 'Toge'.
"Yes well, thank you, Toge," Yuuta says, rocking forward on his heels. The boy flinches at his name being spoken, and Yuuta remembers that they're strangers, and he's probably being really weird right now. "S-sorry. That was- I'm Okkotsu Yuuta. It's nice to meet you."
Toge regards him curiously, eyes pulsing once more. Yuuta has no choice but to be distracted as he watches the kitchen quite literally come to life.
A whisk churns dutifully in a mixing bowl of pale pink batter and cupcakes pipe themselves with delicate whorls of frosting.
Fire blazes instantly beneath the antique oven, flashing a dark, stormy blue before simmering into a teal the color of tropical waves. It licks the cast iron basin, heating a tray of pennied macarons on the inside.
"Bakes them perfect every time," Toge tells him via the chalkboard, still grinning.
"Oh," Yuuta inhales. "Does it?"
Toge scoots out from behind the counter and passes Yuuta, who notices he smells like lilacs and earl-grey tea. With a wave of Toge's hand, a pale purple apron jumps off the hook by the door and ties itself to his waist with a superfluous bow.
Yuuta is in awe.
He's never been able to use magic like this. Yuuta's magic is unbridled and dangerous, and he still hasn't learned how to control it properly. Whereas he destroys, Toge seems to create. He must know how to enchant the utensils into baking or the chalkboard into writing.
Toge looks over his shoulder at Yuuta expectantly, pupils flashing. He snaps back to attention.
"Yeah, I was wondering... do you, like, have anything warm? To drink, I mean?" Yuuta asks, wringing his hands together. The bakery is so warm he's mostly thawed at this point, but there's still the walk to campus, and guessing from the wind howling at the doors, the cold hasn't subsided.
Toge gestures to the tea under the counter and then to a kettle, laying dormant and cold on the stove.
"That might take too long and I'm kind of in a hurry. Is there anything... ready now?" Asking for something so specific makes guilt burn hot within Yuuta, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
The baker shakes his head, fluffy hair bouncing, looking almost sad. Disappointment sets in quickly, and Yuuta is about to excuse himself, until-
The baker holds up his finger, asking Yuuta to wait.
He ducks beneath the counter, and for a moment Yuuta frets he'll hit his head too, but then Toge is grabbing a plate of cookies from the display case and setting them down.
"Hot chocolate cookies," Toge says, underlining the word 'hot'.
The cookies are thick and rich-smelling, and Yuuta is slamming down money before he realizes it.
Toge's eyes widen. "Wait. They're really hot."
Yuuta stares back, pausing. "I, um... yes? It's pretty cold out there and I need something warm so I can make it to work. I teach at the university- I'm supposed to be giving a lecture on dark magic, but I'm already late because the buses weren't running and then a cold front came in, so."
He stops to breathe, hands shaking.
"I just need to get there without freezing."
Why it's so difficult to convince Toge to give him a cookie when it's his bakery and he offered them, Yuuta doesn't know. But as soon as he exchanges the bills, he grabs one and throws it back.
The first sensation hitting his tongue is chocolate so sweet and velvety it tastes of truffles, thick and melting. Yuuta picks up on hints of cinnamon and brown sugar, reminding him of coming inside after a snowy day of making ice forts.
Then, the second sensation washes over him, and Yuuta realizes two things.
One: Toge was trying to warn him.
And, two: Yuuta is terrible with spice.
Cayenne pepper coats his mouth next, scorching the back of his throat. All of a sudden he's choking, saliva pooling behind his teeth, sweat beading down his neck. Yuuta's breath stutters and for a brief moment, he's convinced his lungs are filled with spice.
Then something cool is being thrust into his hands and he drinks without thinking, taking a soothing gulp of milk.
Toge stares up at him, brow creasing with worry.
"I'm-" Yuuta hacks, barely able to get a word out. He sips the milk again for any bit of assistance. "I'm okay, I- why did-"
"I told you." Toge frowns. "Hot chocolate cookies."
He underlines the word 'hot' once more, and Yuuta groans, dropping his head.
"Hot chocolate. I understand now." The back of his neck burns petal-pink with shame. Yuuta struggles to maintain eye contact with Toge out of embarrassment.
He's an idiot.
Toge nods, sliding the cookie tray back into the display case. Around him, the kitchen continues its procession of baking and arranging. Yuuta peers over the baker's shoulder just in time to see a huge loaf of focaccia, studded with rosemary and flakes of near-translucent salt, go into the oven.
"So you made these?" Yuuta asks. His voice is hoarse from the hacking and, well, the peppers. As his lungs settle down, he notices a bone-deep warmth sink in, as if he’s sitting in a hot spring. "Do you spell everything?"
"Not everything." Gesturing to the busy kitchen around him, Toge's enchanted chalkboard scribbles another message. "But yes. I do bake it all."
"That's- ah, that's amazing," Yuuta says, meaning every word. "I could never do something like this. How long have you had this store?"
He looks back down to see Toge leaning forward on the table with his chin propped up in his hand. There's a lazy, amused smile on his face as he tips his head to the side. Yuuta loses himself in studying the arcane sigils at his lips, but then the easel squeaks loudly.
"Don't you need to be somewhere?"
"Oh Gods," Yuuta croaks, pulling out his phone. It slips from his hands but he manages to see the time. "I have to go, um- I only have twenty minutes to get there, and I- you know what. I'll just be back another day. Bye, Toge! Thank you!"
Toge straightens up and waves back, a little shake of his elbow and nothing more. As Yuuta juggles his phone back into his bag, he pushes open the door, which sounds like a cowbell this time.
So it is enchanted, Yuuta thinks, sparing one glance upwards.
The tiny, etched garden snake seems to wink at him with polished metal eyes.
With the burning in his chest from Toge's cookies keeping him warm, Yuuta leaves the bakery and braces for the run to campus. Even though he's ten minutes late to his lecture, and his mentor Gojo gives him a somewhat stern talking-to, Yuuta finds he doesn't regret his stop one bit.
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇
It's not long before Yuuta finds himself at Toge's bakery once more, this time on a Sunday night.
Unlike his first visit, Yuuta has clear intentions now. Other than the confectionary witch, Yuuta isn't familiar with anyone in the area who's as skilled in enchantment.
Well, he doesn't know anyone now. There was Rika, his childhood friend he grew up with, but she passed away well before either of them could learn how to properly use their magic.
Yuuta wills those blood-soaked memories and their metallic smell to the back of his mind, trying to be in the present. He needs to apologize to Toge for the strangeness of their prior encounter, and then hopefully find something to solve his new problem.
The bell twinkles cheerily when he pushes the doors open, imitating a wind chime in the heat of a June night.
Toge is already behind the counter when Yuuta enters, hunched over a pot on the stove. His tongue sticks out between his lips as he focuses on dipping a sweet inside.
Even though it's only been a few days, the bakery's entire stock has changed. The teas and syrups on display have been rotated out, and fresh clusters of marigolds hang butter-bright from the ceiling.
Other than the aroma of cocoa hanging in the air, there’s not much stock left. Yuuta supposes that’s a sign of a good day. The baskets are emptied of product, with mere crumbs left behind, save for a couple of brownies here and there.
Leftover rose-shaped pastries catch Yuuta's eye as he walks further in. They're wet with sweet egg wash and apricot glaze, like bushels of flaky flowers. He can't imagine how long it took Toge to make them, even with magic.
"Hey there," Yuuta says, softly enough to not spook Toge.
From here, he gets a better view of what the baker’s doing. Toge dips drop-shaped meringues into a pot of melted chocolate, covering their bottoms and lining them afterward onto a sheet to cool. The chocolate stays glossy as it hardens, sped up by the influence of magic.
"Hello again," Toge sends the message through his chalkboard, not looking up from his task.
"I, um-" Yuuta starts, tapping his fingers on the counter. "I wanted to apologize, for the other day."
Toge drops the meringue in his hand, blinking at Yuuta. It's kind of... cute. Like a baby owl.
Yuuta takes this as a sign to continue, sighing. "Your cookies worked so well and I just feel like, I don't know- I was rude. And I'm not rude- at least, I don't think I am. So I'm sorry."
Amethyst eyes slit into crescent moons, and suddenly Toge is standing in front of him, still smelling of earl-grey and lilac. Yuuta frowns, not sure what this means.
Toge mirrors his expression, lips twisting downwards as if questioning his apology. Then he shakes his head, letting out a little huff.
"Not a big deal," reads the chalkboard, and then Toge is walking away. Yuuta notices a quarter-sized stain of melted chocolate on the side of his apron, but before he can tell him, it cleans itself.
"Thank you,” Yuuta says, a little distracted. “I also wanted to see if you had anything to help with memory. Like, remembering things... studying things."
"Are you cheating?" Toge's magic writes. "I thought you were the teacher."
"N-no, I'm not! Not cheating- I am a teacher." Yuuta chokes, holding his hands up. "I haven't gotten a lot of sleep lately, so I was too tired to plan my lecture, and I have to give it on Tuesday, but I need to go to the psychiatrist before then, and... yeah. I was hoping you'd have something to help with... that."
"I was joking," Toge says, apple-round cheeks curving in an apologetic smile. He picks up the sheet of freshly dipped meringues and carries them over to Yuuta. Some are bigger than others, and the dollops aren't completely uniform. Yuuta finds it endearing more than anything.
Toge points at them, wiggling his finger.
"These?" Yuuta asks, waiting for Toge's permission before picking one up and turning it around. It's hollow and light, like if he pinched too hard it would shatter.
With a nod, Toge scrawls down a label reading, 'Memory Meringues'.
"Clever," Yuuta hums. "Your magic is really something, Toge. How you manage to bake all of this and enchant it all by yourself, I have no clue. Not just anyone can do this. Plus, it all tastes really good."
He means every word. Magic of Toge's kind takes immense self-control and discipline on a level that Yuuta's been told he can reach but is yet to fully realize. And to think, with that power, he chose to run a bakery.
Toge's not doing this for personal gain or abusing his magic. From what Yuuta sees, all he wants to do is share his craft by helping others.
The blush on Toge's face is unmistakable when Yuuta looks up. For the first time since meeting him, the baker looks... shy. His confidence falters and his eyes flit down, purple disguised under long, curling lashes.
Then Yuuta notices a smudge of chocolate from the meringues, right on the side of Toge's jaw.
He reaches forwards without thinking.
"You, uh," he says, voice fuzzy. "You've got chocolate on your chin."
Yuuta delicately cups Toge's chin in his fingers, swiping his thumb over the plush curve of his cheek. The melted chocolate smears until Yuuta wipes it away, Toge's skin hot under his fingerprints.
He doesn't think twice about it until he sees Toge's expression, lips slightly parted and eyes lifted, serpentine pupils wide with shock.
"Sorry," Yuuta stumbles, pulling his hand back. He wipes the chocolate on his jeans, increasingly frantic. "I didn't, um- I didn't mean to. Well, I meant to but- do you have any napkins?"
Toge wordlessly grabs a fistful of napkins from a basket near the register and shoves them into Yuuta's hands. He tucks a strand of hair behind his ear but it's too short to stay, and it falls back to kiss his temples. Dismissing a rotation of enchanted plates, Toge stores some leftover scones in the freezer along his back wall.
This is weird. This is weird, right? It's the second time they've met and Yuuta is already scaring Toge. He should be banned from trying to make friends with strangers- especially kind bakers with purple eyes.
"So how do the meringues work?" Yuuta asks, looking around for a trash can to throw away the napkins. Toge comes back to the counter and opens his palm, so Yuuta gingerly hands them over. The wad vanishes into thin air on a wisp of black, glittering smoke.
"Take one to enhance your memory." Yuuta surveys the tray as Toge communicates, eyes scanning over countless piped teardrops. "The bigger the meringue, the longer it lasts. "
Yuuta hums quietly, waffling over which meringues to choose for a socially unacceptable amount of time. He finally picks up a couple, grabbing their peaks delicately between his fingers. A few should do the trick, and then maybe he can stop relying on Toge whenever he's so inconveniently in trouble, which he should probably put a stop to.
But as Yuuta watches Toge take out the oven racks, shutting the door with his foot and twirling to throw them into the sink, the thought makes him sad.
"Thanks," Yuuta mumbles, pulling out payment for the meringues. "I know you close up soon, and I don't want to hold you any longer, so I’ll pay now."
Toge whips to attention, dusting his hands off on his apron without any stains. Handwriting appears fast and messy on the easel.
"You don't have to leave."
"Are you sure?" Yuuta blurts out. He feels itchy all of a sudden. "But it's late."
The baker regards him for a moment, giving Yuuta a once-over before settling on a curt nod. Toge levitates a kettle sloshing with water onto the stove and crouches under the counter to grab some loose tea leaves.
Yuuta would never deny hospitality from a witch, so he carefully takes a seat at one of the only chairs in the bakery, watching Toge stuff dried herbs and nips of blossoms into tea bags, then two waiting mugs. One of them is chipped along the rim, bringing a smile to Yuuta’s face.
As utensils begin to clean themselves and the sink froths with soapy, translucent bubbles, a tinny whistle bleats from the kettle.
It's comfortable to sit and watch Toge go about his business, who looks so at ease amongst the racks of drying flowers and decadent pastries. This place feels more like a home than a bakery, with its flour-dusted surfaces and dimly pulsing fairy lights.
Yuuta is an abysmal chef- partially because he was never taught, but also because there was no reason to learn. His parents weren't big on home-cooked meals or family time, and after Rika died, he's always been on his own. Yuuta's content to get by on instant ramen and convenience store takeout, and over the years, eating turned into nothing more than part of surviving.
But Toge and his bakery, with signs of life and passion pressed fondly into every corner, make Yuuta want to change that.
Steaming hot water is poured into the mugs and Toge carries them over, taking the chipped one for himself.
The tea is dark and almost molten, the bakery's lights reflecting an oil-slick rainbow off the surface at Yuuta.
"What’s this?" he asks, wrapping his hands around the cup and peering in. He hears Toge let out a soft, huffing breath.
"Cosmic Tea," Toge's magic scribbles on the easel, near Yuuta. "Makes you sleepy."
"Wait, sleepy?" Yuuta squeaks, pulling his hand back. "I can't get tired, I have to..."
Toge snorts, the sound barely there.
Another joke then, Yuuta realizes, taking a sip. It tastes like fruits ripe in a summer orchard, buzzing and fizzing delightfully over his tongue.
"This taste is crazy... what does it actually do?" He looks into the dark liquid as if waiting for an answer.
"Gives you ideas," Toge writes, lifting his mug and angling slightly away from Yuuta. "Thought it might help."
Yuuta stops short. He has no clue what he did to deserve meeting Toge, but by Gods he's grateful for it.
"It will," he hums, tea rippling with his breath. Yuuta drinks in tandem with Toge, both silent as they lift their cups to their lips, listening to the dying whistle of the kettle and the soft washing of dishes.
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇
Two visits turn into three, which turns into four, then five, and the number keeps climbing until Yuuta loses count. He swings by the bakery at least twice a week, whether it's to buy something or just bring Toge a coffee if things are busy. Once he even offered to fix a brand-new ice cream machine Toge got, but neither of them was able to understand the manual.
The rhythm is so natural Yuuta doesn't have a chance to second guess it, and before he knows it, Toge's embroidered himself into the fabric of Yuuta’s life. Even Gojo gets suspicious of how much he talks about the witch.
But the teasing is worth it to learn more about Toge and his magic, Toge and the bakery- Toge in general.
Yuuta finally understands how each pastry and spell comes to fruition, thanks to a conversation with Toge about his secret ingredient.
The question comes up one morning when Yuuta’s on a breakfast run before an early day of classes, Toge bagging him a hefty cinnamon bun and some enchanted salt.
"Enjoy."
"Of course. I don't think you've ever baked something I don't like," Yuuta says, peering inside at the bun, sticky and dripping with glaze.
Toge shrugs as if to say, ‘there's still time’, crossing his arms over his chest. He leans his hip against the counter, magically scooting a pile of toffee bars safely out of the way.
"No really, it's almost suspicious." Yuuta swipes a finger full of decadent icing off the bun, popping it into his mouth. "How do you do it?"
"I have my tricks," Toge writes, feigning coolness.
"You must have a secret ingredient," Yuuta tries to joke, chuckling. "And don't say love, that's-"
Toge's mouth hangs open, cheeks rose pink as if he's been caught in the middle of a lie. His hands fall from their crossed position, and Yuuta practically hears his blood rush into his ears.
Did he... Oh no.
"Is it love? Are you serious? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to,” Yuuta bumbles, the words dying on his tongue as the baker is suddenly very busy cleaning the counters.
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇
Sadly, life is a rollercoaster- and after a while, Yuuta has another bad day.
This time, he can't say it's unexpected. He's known to prepare for years now, but it never gets easier, never feels less daunting, even as those days on his calendar march towards a date he’s memorized, noted with a red heart.
Yuuta feels young and vulnerable, wounds from long ago ripped fresh open by a shadow that will never wane. Yuuta wants to be held, to be told it’s all okay, but he's an adult and nobody does that for him anymore.
Not that any of his family did in the first place.
Seeking comfort and anything familiar to dull the pain, Yuuta finds himself in front of Toge's bakery.
He breathes deeply before stepping in, the snake bell greeting him with the distinct ring of wedding chimes.
The smell of citrus and honey stains the shop, Toge whipping up a harvest banquet of fruity pastries. Fluffy angel cakes brimming with ruby strawberries and fresh cream, tarts, and danishes dotted with apples and berries. Seeing him nestles a light in Yuuta's stomach, easing the pain somewhat.
He's never seen Toge with such a specific inventory before. Usually, the baker makes whatever he wants, but this looks deliberate.
"Hi, Toge," Yuuta says, announcing his presence meekly. The smile Toge gives him is so bright it feels out of place.
Toge balances a tray of lemon bars he's carrying on his hip to wave back, eyes creased happily. There are baskets of lemons all over the kitchen, and their dimpled skin is so clean it shines like candy.
"What's going on in here?" Yuuta asks, setting his bag down on the counter and pulling up a stool. He'll hop down if another customer comes in, but for the past few months, this is the routine he and Toge settled into.
Gesturing to the bustling kitchen, Toge does a little spin, looking expectantly at Yuuta. He's more energetic than usual and Yuuta doesn't want to bring him down, but it’s hard to keep up.
He laughs, hoping his smile is somewhat convincing. "You're in a good mood."
"My trees gave me lemons for the first time," Toge writes. He grabs a fruit and tosses it to Yuuta, who barely manages to catch it.
"You... you grew these?" Yuuta cups the lemon in his hands, turning it over. It still has a green leaf attached, the serrated edge tickling his palm. "With your magic?"
Toge shakes his head. "No. I don't spell my plants. Sometimes stuff needs to grow on its own."
"I see."
He places the lemon bars on the counter and slides over to Yuuta. There's no way Toge is oblivious to his gloomy attitude, he's probably trying to be polite in ignoring it. The baker is too thoughtful for Yuuta to believe otherwise.
Yuuta runs a hand through his tangled hair, holding his breath.
If Toge asks him what's wrong, how can he find the words?
Guilt suddenly washes over him, cold and frightening, icing his veins. He came here without a plan, mindlessly seeking reassurance in Toge's steady kindness. How stupid and selfish of him to do this- Yuuta may consider Toge his friend, but would Toge say the same? Or has the disastrous regular come into his bakery again, pestering him until he-
"Yuuta," Toge whispers, out loud . Not through words displayed in flaking chalk, but with his voice.
It sounds like blue fire crackling in the hearth, like the bell that greets Yuuta just a little bit different every time he walks through the door, like teacups being set down on a familiar table.
"Yes?" Yuuta answers, even quieter.
Toge places a gentle palm over Yuuta's hand, and all the breath he's holding leaves in a gust. The rush back to his head is dizzying, vision going spotty as he tries to focus on Toge’s grounding face.
His skin is so soft.
With a jerk of his head, Toge pulls back, taking the familiar smell of earl-grey and lilacs with him. He arranges some lemon bars onto a plate and motions for Yuuta to follow once more, who trails after absent-mindedly.
The apron unties itself from Toge's waist, floating back onto a hook.
Yuuta's heartbeat pounds loudly, numbness coating his every moment with a dull sickness as he joins Toge at the table. Blinking fairy lights turn the powdered lemon bars to a deep orange, wet and glistening, but he's lost his appetite.
"Um," Yuuta starts, unable to find his footing. "I'm sorry."
Toge tips his head to the side, questioning yet patient. He's not in any rush, choosing a lemon bar from the pile and taking a bite bigger than Yuuta anticipated.
In all his time of coming to the bakery, he's never actually eaten with Toge.
"I just," he sighs, fidgeting in his seat. "Today's the anniversary of Rika's death- my friend, or- she was my friend. It's been years, but... y'know."
What if Toge doesn't know? To hold someone else's grief can be a burden. Yuuta doesn't want to look at him, so he drops his head into his hands. Listens to Toge's gentle chewing instead.
"We met when we were young, so young that I can't remember being a kid without Rika. We wanted to grow up together, go to school together." The words come spilling out, voice straining. "I wasn't super close with my family or anyone else in my neighborhood, and then one day- I don't know."
Yuuta takes a deep breath because the next part never gets any easier no matter how many times he tells it.
"She was hit by a car when we were only eleven."
Knives chopping fruits and a broom shifting across the floor are all Yuuta hears as the two of them lapse into silence. Before he knows it, his eyes are hot and his throat closes in on itself.
He should stop telling Toge all of this. It's too much at once, too much of him laid bare. But he doesn't stop, can't find it in himself to as tears bead at his lashes, clinging stubbornly.
"Rika was special. I know everyone says that when someone dies, but she really was."
Yuuta's vision blurs completely. He barely makes out Toge sitting in front of him, cheeks full of sweets but still paying attention, regarding him with such openness Yuuta knows, right then, he won’t leave.
Toge's there, waiting for Yuuta to finish, the plate of lemon bars sitting between them.
"Are they good?" Yuuta asks while crying, voice hoarse and tear-stained.
The baker nods, clearly trying to hide his amusement.
"Okay," Yuuta sobs, grabbing one and stuffing it in his mouth.
The taste shocks his tongue, barely mottled by the plump saltiness of his tears. Every bite is full of a juicy citrus tang, and if Yuuta didn’t know better he’d think he was electrified. The crust is buttery and flakey, melting perfectly with every chew.
Something about them being baked with lemons from Toge’s tree makes the taste even better.
"Oh wow." Yuuta sounds miserable, swallowing a mouthful of the lemon bar with tears streaming down his face. It's pure bliss. "I've never tasted anything like this."
"You like them?" Toge spells out. "I couldn't tell."
"Toge please," Yuuta says between bites. "This has to be my favorite thing you've made."
Toge looks off to the side as Yuuta finishes, one hand placed over his mouth, hiding the arcane sigils and the bulk of his face.
"Thanks for sharing."
Yuuta stares at the chalkboard as slowly written words fill up the blank space, blinking away tears.
"It's okay if it's still hard."
A pang of melancholy hits Yuuta square in the chest. It feels good to cry to someone about Rika. Even though he's long since accepted her death, the stories of her time alive stay with him. To be able to share them with Toge, who's silly and soft-hearted and listening, is special.
"Thank you," Yuuta says, wiping his mouth with a napkin from the table. "I... This made me feel a lot better. You always make me feel better."
Honesty seeps through the cracks in his parched voice, exhaustion betraying him. Yuuta laughs softly, huffing and wet.
"I’m sorry I keep coming to you for help. I'd like to return the favor one day,” he mumbles, picking up another lemon bar. With each swallow, he feels himself growing lighter like a burden is being lifted from his shoulders.
Toge’s eyes flutter as he soundlessly watches Yuuta take another bite.
“What spell is in these? I’m not sad at all anymore,” he says, pointing at the plate, the tears now dry on his face.
But Toge isn’t answering. Not through the chalkboard, body language, or even verbally.
Instead, his skin glows red, redder than the berries slathered in honey on his tarts in the kitchen. Toge purses his lips into a thin line, those snake-like eyes stuttering downwards, focused on the table. Panic jolts through Yuuta.
Did he say something wrong? The last thing Yuuta wants to do is hurt him.
“Um… Toge?”
The baker tugs on a piece of his hair, trying to cover his face one more, and words form on the chalkboard.
“No spell.”
Wait. What?
Toge’s answer from their first encounter rings through Yuuta’s head. He may be a witch and this may be his bakery, but it doesn’t mean everything is enchanted.
Yuuta’s cheeks grow unbearably warm as he realizes the implication. If his heart stopped right now, that could either be very good or very bad.
“If-” he says, immediately choking on his spit. Yuuta gathers himself before asking, “If they’re n-not magic, then. Is it just the secret ingredient?”
The baker’s eyes snap up, and Yuuta’s entire world tilts on its axis.
“Yes.”