Something is off.
Kanan runs a hand through her hair, knotted and twisted by morning unruliness, and squints at the scene before her. Mari is seated at the dining table, a cup of coffee cradled in her hands. She is resplendent in her camisole and robe, with the rising sun’s reaching rays forming a circlet of light around her golden head.
Mari looks angelic, a near-literal halo circling her crown, but not even that can subdue the suspicion that wells up in Kanan’s chest at the sight of the mug steaming innocuously at Kanan’s place at the dining table.
“It looks like I’m the early bird today, Kanan!” Mari chirps, remarkably awake for being a notoriously-late riser. She takes a sip of her coffee, then sets her cup down. The twin shelves of her teeth are pressed together, a mischievous, catlike grin. “How rare for you to sleep in late.”
“Whose fault do you think that is?” Kanan says, tearing her eyes from the mug to meet Mari’s twinkling eyes. This domestic bliss is at once familiar and disarming. Their relationship isn’t the same as it was two years ago–Kanan’s a little sharper, Mari’s a little more erratic–but the love is still there, and that’s more than Kanan had hoped for during her worst moments. “Besides–it’s rare for you to be up this early, too.”
“Well, maybe I wanted to surprise you!” Mari waves her arms over the table, and Kanan is drawn back to the issue of the incredibly suspicious mug. She examines it, then the cunning gleam in Mari’s eyes. Mari’s mind is quick and clever, her sense of humor eccentric. A deadly combination, one that has manifested itself as an incredible fondness for pranks. Not even Kanan is exempt from Mari’s mischief.
Mari must have planned something. Kanan slept in this morning, yes, but Mari would never miss an opportunity to lounge around in bed unless there was something more urgent–or perhaps, more entertaining–to occupy her attention.
Warily, Kanan takes a seat at the table and inhales the steam rising from the mug. Coffee. It’s a blend that’s very familiar to Kanan. She tastes it on Mari’s lips every day, smells the scent filling the director’s office at Uranohoshi. Kanan likes the brew very much–although she doesn’t drink nearly as much as Mari, Kanan has a soft spot in her heart for coffee.
Should she risk it?
“What shall we do after breakfast? Riding? Diving?” Mari’s voice breaks her train of thought. Kanan blinks up at her past a curtain of her own messy hair. Which reminds her–Kanan pulls the ever-present rubber band around her wrist over her hand, typing her hair up into a functional, if sloppy, ponytail.
Mari’s eyes shamelessly wander across her face, as if Kanan were something worthy of appreciation after just rolling out of bed. She grins and waggles her eyebrows, rising and falling like the crest of a wave. “Or maybe… each other? We could stay at the hotel, make it a date.”
Kanan shakes her head, endeared despite herself at the way Mari pouts. “Nope, no way. You know Chika scheduled practice after lunch.”
“I can call in sick?” Mari offers. She takes a sip of her coffee, eyes slanting with the force of her smile. “We could say that you’re…” The eyebrow wiggling returns full-force. “Taking care of me.”
Kanan purses her lips. The offer is tempting, but they have responsibilities, and Mari’s indulgent lifestyle doesn’t need any more enabling… no matter how much it might benefit Kanan. “If you do that, everyone will come and visit to check up on you. And Chika might even bring that homemade cold cure that her mom makes.”
Mari sets her cup down. “No!”
“Yes.” Kanan nods, somber. The cold cure is actually just chopped ginger and mandarin peels boiled in water, and doesn’t taste too bad, really, but Mari doesn’t need to know. “Come on–we should eat breakfast and take the ferry to Uchiura.”
Mari murmurs some complaint in quiet Italian, but rises from her seat and wanders into the kitchen. Kanan is about to stand up and head in after her, but the firm weight of Mari’s hand against her shoulder keeps her seated.
Kanan is never sure what they’ll have during their meals. She is certain that the staff employed at the hotel are also responsible for Mari’s food, but Kanan’s never had a reason to approach the kitchen, no matter how often she visits. She wonders if she knows anyone working there.
Plates and dishes clink as Mari putters about. Absentmindedly, Kanan picks up her mug and reaches for the tin of sugar Mari leaves on the table for her coffee. It’s half full, but–something’s wrong. Kanan takes a closer look.
The sugar is too grainy. In fact–it isn’t sugar. Kanan scoops a few grains out onto her palm and licks it.
Salt.
Kanan pushes the tin back to its proper place and cups her face in her hand. She’d let Mari distract her, and had nearly fallen for her prank. Kanan thinks she’s a little too laidback to be considered especially bright or clever, but even she should be able to keep her train of thought without getting distracted.
“Kanan!” Mari calls from the kitchen. “Your coffee, I forgot–did you want milk?”
Her lilting voice plants an idea in Kanan’s head. “Yes, please!” she replies. Mari hums, and Kanan fights back laughter as she reaches for the “sugar” spoon. She takes a scoop of salt and grins.
Personally, Kanan doesn’t see the point in participating or orchestrating pranks. There’s so much that can go wrong, and Kanan can find easier, less complicated ways of amusing herself.
Still, she can’t deny the burst of pleasure that warms her chest when she imagines the way Mari will react.
When Mari emerges from the kitchen with plates balanced on her arms and a small jug of milk in her hand, Kanan taps the spoon against the side of her mug, as if she had just stirred in a scoop of “sugar,” and returns the spoon to its place in the tin. Now that she’s watching for it, Kanan sees the way Mari’s lips quirk, just a few degrees away from being a satisfied smirk.
“Buon appetito!” Mari cries, setting the plates down with an table-rattling flourish. She slides back into her seat and beams at Kanan, eyes bright with mirth. Kanan smiles back, pouring the milk into the coffee. She lifts the mug to her lips, meeting Mari’s eyes over the rim.
And then, without breaking eye contact, Kanan chugs the coffee.
“Eh–!” Mari’s jaw drops. “Kanan!”
Without sugar, the taste is overpowering, but she is determined. Kanan finishes off the last of the coffee with a gasp and sets the mug back down.
“Kanan!” For a rare moment, Mari looks truly, genuinely alarmed, before she schools her expression into her usual cheeky grin. “A little thirstier than usual, no?”
“What can I say? I like the flavor.” Kanan picks up a bread roll and tucks in. Western food isn’t her favorite, but today, she appreciates the way the flavor combats the bitterness of the coffee. “C’mon, eat, or we might miss the ferry!”
“Hmm, if we do, we can just take the helicopter!” Mari winks at her, and as always, Kanan isn’t sure if she’s joking.
“Uranohoshi doesn’t have a helipad, Mari…”
“Then we can parachute down! You can do it, Kanan!” Mari waves her fork in the air in a way that Kanan finds slightly alarming, and also inappropriate. “If you can drink salt-filled coffee, you can jump out of a helicopter.”
“Salt-filled?” Kanan pitches her voice higher and raises her eyebrows, feigning surprise. “Mari, did you put something in my coffee?”
Mari looks at her. She doesn’t frown, exactly, but there’s a carefulness to the way her mouth is set and the consideration in her eyes. Kanan continues to eat as calmly as she can under the scrutiny, but despite being prepared, she still jumps when Mari bursts into laughter.
“Oh, Kanan,” Mari sighs, resting her chin in her hand. There’s a twinkle in her eye. “You knew I’d switched out the sugar all along, didn’t you?”
Kanan shrugs, dropping the act. “I thought something was up. You would never miss a chance to spend the day in bed, unless there was something else you were planning to do.”
“Aaah, are you saying indulgence was my undoing?”
“Well, now that you mention it…” Kanan laughs at the way Mari purses her lips. She leans across the table, mindful of the food, and brushes a kiss to the tip of Mari’s nose. Or, she would have, had Mari not tilted her head up.
Their lips collide, clumsy and utterly unromantic. Kanan laughs at it all, feels the curve of Mari’s smile, tastes the coffee lingering on her lips.
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay in today?” Mari murmurs, forehead pressed against her own. This close, her eyes seem as soft as the shallows of the sea, and Kanan is astounded that this gentleness is reserved for her and her alone.
“I thought we established that lazing around is a bad thing.” Leaning across the table is uncomfortable, and while Kanan is more than willing to suffer it for a kiss, she’s still relieved when Mari sits back down.
“So stubborn…” Mari groans, looping her fingers around the handle of her cup. Kanan fixates on the blunt, neatly-trimmed tips of her nails as she brings the cup to her lips. “You know what they say about all work and no play, right?”
“Well,” Kanan says as Mari sips her coffee. “I wouldn’t say that I haven’t been playing around…”
Mari raises an eyebrow in question, but then its twin shoots up almost involuntarily. Her eyes go comically wide, and she spits her coffee back into the cup. Mari is the very picture of grace and elegance as she chokes on the taste of salted coffee, lines of brown liquid dribbling down her chin. Kanan can contain herself no longer, and laughs, and laughs, and laughs.
Kanan is a simple girl. She loves the ocean, the countryside, singing and dancing with her friends–and occasionally, outsmarting her girlfriend.
She has never been happier.