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Shinobu skipped her way down the hall of practice rooms to the one room that she knew he would be in. She opened the door and flicked on the light.
It was one of the few practice rooms with a baby grand piano, and Shinobu knew that Giyuu preferred this particular piano, with its heavier keys and sturdy strings that stayed in tune between visits from the university’s piano tuner. The keyboard side was faced away from the door, and Shinobu couldn’t see anyone seated there.
But there was a very familiar backpack in the corner of the room.
“Tomioka-senpai, I know you’re in here.”
Silence.
Shinobu hung her bag on the coat rack by the door and bent over, peering under the piano.
Curled up between the pedals and the piano bench was a young man glaring back at her.
“Found you.”
Shinobu snickered as she stood back up and made her way over to the other side of the piano, nudging his knees with the tips of her black ballet flats.
“Stop that. Turn the lights back off.”
“Why? Wanna make out in the dark?”
“No! He’s looking for me.”
“Who?”
She was answered by the echoes of a scream coming from the hallway. Curious, Shinobu stuck her head out the door and saw Inosuke holding a giant prickly ball with oven mitts, charging straight towards her.
“SHINOBU!” he bellowed happily, waving the prickly green fruit above his head. “Where’s Jiyuu?”
She coughed a bit at the pungent smell wafting off of the fruit. Delicately pinching her nose with a couple fingers, she pointed inside the practice room.
“He is in there. Told ya, Monjirou!”
Jogging up behind Inosuke was a panting Tanjirou, his brow furled with worry. He tugged the back of Inosuke’s wrinkled band t-shirt.
“Inosuke, I think we should leave him alone. And I think we should bring the durian outside of the building, we’re disturbing a lot of people.”
Shinobu nodded furiously, holding her breath.
Inosuke cackled at their resistance.
“Nah, he has to taste this! I even brought a knife! Let’s eat! Jiyuu!”
Inosuke pushed past Shinobu and looked around the practice room.
“Inosuke. Why?”
Tanjirou sighed, his shoulders slouching with defeat.
“He said he never had this before!”
“I did not say anything.”
Inosuke crouched, looking under the piano.
“What’re you doin’ down there? Get outta there, let’s butcher this!”
Shinobu, still holding her breath, desperately searched through her bag hanging off the coat rack. Her eyes sparkled as she pulled out a cloth mask and quickly tucked the loops behind her ears.
Inosuke put the large durian on the floor, took off the oven mitts and used them to give the spiky fruit a good smack. Settling down beside the fruit, he shrugged his backpack off his shoulders and pulled out a rather large butcher knife.
Tanjirou immediately closed the door and pressed his back to the small sliver of a window.
“Inosuke! You can’t just bring a weapon to school!”
“S’not a weapon! It’s a kitchen tool!”
Inosuke unsheathed the butcher knife from its cardboard sleeve and tapped the durian a few times with the sharp edge.
“C’mon, Jiyuu. I bought this just for you!”
Now, if Giyuu hiding behind the piano was the only thing keeping Inosuke from breaking open the cursed fruit right there and then, Shinobu would have happily let the man hide under there. But she knew, they all knew, that there was no stopping Inosuke.
Tiptoeing around Inosuke and the durian, Shinobu made her way back over to Giyuu. She crouched down and tugged at his sleeve.
“Get over there. I’m not suffering without you. After all, he brought the whole thing in just for you.”
Giyuu avoided her gaze.
“I had nothing to do with this.”
Shinobu tugged his sleeve harder.
“Don’t care. He’s about to crack the damn thing open and I refuse to be covered in durian smell all alone.”
“Tanjirou-kun is there.”
“Tanjirou-kun doesn’t have ballet class in an hour.”
Heaving a sigh, Giyuu shed his cardigan and draped it over Shinobu’s head and shoulders.
“There. The scent won’t get on you. Could you please just – I don’t want to be within range of the shrapnel.”
Shinobu glanced back between the legs of the piano. Inosuke’s wide smile at the hard, spiky fruit certainly gave the impression he was anticipating something impressive to happen. Perhaps Giyuu had the right idea this time around.
Grinning, she settled down beside Giyuu under the piano’s keyboard and gave Inosuke a thumbs up.
“Tomioka-senpai and I are going to watch from here.”
The last thing heard before the inevitable chop was Tanjirou’s sigh.
Shinobu flinched at the sound and squeezed her eyes shut. She heard a few muffled cracking sounds, but mostly the sound of her own breath. And Giyuu’s breath. She opened her eyes to see Giyuu’s arms around her, glaring back at Inosuke.
There was, fortunately, no durian shrapnel.
Inosuke seemed to handle the fruit with expertise, keeping the spiky husk against the floor and cracking various sections open, revealing the light yellow flesh between the white spongy rind.
Unfortunately, this also meant that the scent of the fruit became exponentially more potent.
Shinobu pulled Giyuu’s cardigan tighter and used it to cover her nose before burying her entire face in his shoulder. Giyuu himself covered his nose with his spare arm, his other arm clinging tightly onto Shinobu as if anchoring himself there.
“Inosuke,” Tanjirou let out another sigh, “That doesn’t smell good. Let’s pack that up.”
“Nah, nah. We’re gonna eat it!”
Inosuke pulled out a pack of paper cups and plastic spoons from his backpack. Tanjirou narrowed his eyes, glancing between the durian and Inosuke’s nearly empty backpack.
“Why is your bag filled with more kitchen tools than school supplies – Wait. What we need right now is some plastic bags to contain the smell.”
“Why would we do that if we’re eating?”
“There is no way we can handle finishing that giant fruit. Just look at them! They’re suffering!”
Inosuke glanced over, tilting his head to see under the piano.
“Whatcha hugging her for? It’s time to eat!”
Shinobu shook her head, face still firmly planted in Giyuu’s shoulder. Giyuu glared back at Inosuke, squinting his eyes in disgust as he struggled to breathe through the sleeve of his sweater..
Tanjirou sighed, squatting down beside Inosuke and helping him scoop a bit of durian flesh into a few paper cups.
“There.” He placed the samples of durian on the floor, each cup with a small piece of pulp and a spoon. “Now can we please clean up?”
“But–”
“Inosuke, they will stay huddled in a terrified ball until we put the rest of this away.”
Tanjirou gestured under the piano, where Giyuu and Shinobu were indeed curled up in a ball of sorts.
Pouting, Inosuke crossed his arms.
“We can totally finish this.”
“No we can’t.”
“We can!”
“Can’t.”
“Can.”
Tanjirou rubbed a hand down his face, groaning in frustration.
“Inosuke. If you don’t put most of this away, no one is eating any of it today.”
Inosuke opened his mouth in protest but closed it again, the thought of the entire fruit going to waste seemingly bringing some reason into head.
“But it’s good.” He muttered, as he pulled a large zipper storage bag from his backpack.
“Not everyone thinks that.” Tanjirou reminded him gently, using a plastic spoon to scoop out the remaining piece of flesh into the plastic bag.
On the other side of the piano, Giyuu lowered his head, his chin brushing over Shinobu’s hair, peeking over at Tanjiro and Inosuke.
When Tanjiro zipped the bag shut and Inosuke placed the rest of the spiky rind in his backpack, Giyuu finally lowered his arm from his face. He coughed at the strong pungent smell that still lingered in the air.
“C’mon Jiyuu, Shinobu!,” Inosuke called out, much louder than necessary given the small space of the practice room, “No more scary spiky things! Try summa this!”
Shinobu lifted her head slightly, glancing under the piano to double check that the rest of the durian was put away before untangling herself from Giyuu’s arms.
“Just to be clear,” Giyuu muttered through his teeth as he stood up, patting the dust off his jeans, “I was not scared. It was the smell that was disgusting.”
“Sure, sure”
Shinobu snickered as she reached up a hand to tug at his sleeve. Giyuu grabbed her hand and lifted her off the floor. The gesture was smooth and coordinated, so comfortable that Shinobu felt a little disappointment in her chest when he let go of her hand and turned away.
But it was not the immediate concern, she realised as she wrinkled her nose at the horrifying stench stuffed in the small practice room. She couldn’t wait to leave this tiny box and change into her ballet uniform.
Tanjirou held a paper cup in hand and winced as Inosuke grabbed two paper cups and slid them over the lid of the baby grand. Giyuu reached out to catch them before they hit the music stand.
“Cheers!” Inosuke raised his paper cup in the air, before gobbling down his piece of durian.
Tanjirou didn’t seem to have much trouble with the fruit, but Giyuu tried to hide his gags behind the sleeve of his sweater. He stared down at the cups on the piano and picked one up, glancing over at Inosuke’s bright, eager smile a couple times.
Shinobu watched with hesitant intrigue as Giyuu picked at the thankfully small portion of yellow durian flesh in the cup. He pinched off a small, peanut-sized piece with the plastic spoon and brought it to his mouth, his nose wrinkled with disgust the whole way. He paused for a moment, then delicately closing his mouth over the spoon before sliding the spoon out of his mouth.
He chewed slowly, his expression evening out as he swallowed.
Covering his mouth with a hand, his expression turned sour again as he spoke.
“Tastes decent. Still smells rotten.”
Shinobu looked down at the remaining cup of fruit, and then back at Inosuke’s beaming smile.
She sighed, picked up the cup, and shoved a spoonful of the durian in her mouth.
Creamy, sweet and savoury. It was good.
Now that Shinobu was bathed in the smell of durian, she could barely notice it above the bold taste of the savoury-sweet custard that was the durian flesh. She quickly scooped up the rest of the fruit into her mouth.
“See? I knew you’d like it!”
Inosuke laughed heartily and slapped Giyuu on the back. Giyuu winced. He put his cup back onto the piano lid, inching it a little closer to Shinobu.
“Oh my, is this for me?” Shinobu snickered as she swiped the cup off of the piano, nestling the cup into her empty one. “How rude, offering something you’ve already had a taste of.”
Shinobu couldn’t tell if the flush on Giyuu’s face was from the effort of trying not to breathe, or offering her food that he had already taken a bite from.
In any case, she quickly finished off the remaining fruit in his cup and chucked the paper cups in a nearby waste bin. They had other important matters to take care of. First of all, being the stink.
“Thanks, Inosuke-kun.” She chirped sweetly, “but we have to get going. Giyuu and I need to get changed.”
Giyuu stared back at her.
“Why do I have to get changed?”
“Because you stink, I stink, and we are not going to my ballet class filled with snobby ballerinas smelling like expired seafood.”
Giyuu pulled his phone out, checking the time.
“There is no way I can go home and make it back to campus in time.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing I stole some of your clothes, then. Come on!”
Shinobu grabbed Giyuu’s bag off the floor and shoved it in his arms.
“What?” He sputtered, nearly dropping his bag, “You stole my clothes? When? How–”
“I was jealous of your sweats, okay? I snuck them out of your dresser, obviously. How else?”
Tanjiro was kind enough to hold the door open for them as they all exited the small, cramped practice room.
Giyuu’s face looked a little bit tired, but Shinobu knew that was his expression of extreme relief. She kept a chuckle to herself. He glanced over as she grabbed her purse and exited the room.
“Kocho, I don’t think I should be wearing sweats to your dance class.”
“Oh, and you have a better idea?”
“I think there’s a convenience store around the corner, I’ll just buy some fabric refresher.”
“Then people will be asking why you have a bottle of fabric refresher with you.”
“Why does that matter?”
“It’s weird. Just come over, I have fabric refresher too, if you’re so desperate to be wearing your oh-so-stylish sweater and jeans.”
“I – you still have my cardigan.”
“Oh sorry. Your cardigan?” She fingered the soft fabric that was still draped across her shoulders. “This is mine, now.”
“What?”
She snorted at his confusion. Tanjiro brought a hand to his blushing face, as if he were witnessing something he really shouldn’t.
“Don’t you know, Jiyuu?” Inosuke clicked his tongue, “Whatever is yours belongs to your girlfriend. It’s the first rule of dating. Even I know that.”
“We’re not – She’s not –”
Giggling, Shinobu looped her arm around Giyuu’s and continued marching off in the direction of her dormitory.
“It’s too late, darling. Let’s go. Time to get changed.”
A loud yell was heard down the hall that they had just left. The four of them paused, looking back.
“What the fuck happened in this room?”
The four of them glanced at each other before Inosuke smiled and shrugged.
“Time to run!”
Inosuke bounded down the hallway with Tanjiro chasing after him.
Shinobu tugged Giyuu’s arm in another direction, turning a corner and into a shortcut towards her dormitory.
“Let’s hurry.”
She grabbed his hand and they ran out the door of the music building and down the street, the wind buffeting through their hair. They let out a breath as they finally reached Shinobu’s dorm apartment. She swiped her card and quickly dragged him toward the stairs.
“By the way, why in the world did Inosuke-kun bring a durian in for you, Tomioka-senpai?”
He huffed as he ascended the stairs behind her.
“Someone was talking about strange food during our studio masterclass, and then mentioned durians. Hashibira was insistent that durian was the king of fruits.” Giyuu sighed with heavy regret. “I asked what a durian was.”
“Oh. That is entirely your fault, Tomioka-senpai.”
She flashed her student card in front of her dorm room and opened the door.
“How was I supposed to know –”
“Did you really think Inosuke-kun, of all people, would let you go without tasting something that he called the king of fruits?”
Giyuu leaned against the doorway of her dorm room, crossing his arms defensively.
“Just showing me a photo of the thing would have sufficed.”
“For you, maybe. For a boy that calls himself the king of the mountains? Never.”
Shinobu rummaged through her drawer and tossed a small bottle of fabric refresher to Giyu, who quickly sprayed himself down before handing it back to her.
She slipped it in her purse.
“Are you bringing that with you to class?” He asked, confused.
“Yup.”
“But you just said that people would ask–”
“They would ask you, who would have bought a giant bottle of it because it’s a better deal than buying a tiny bottle, and it wouldn’t fit in your backpack, forcing you to carry it around in your hands until you get home.”
He opened his mouth a few times, trying to come up with a response to that.
“But you–”
“I, on the other hand, have such a small bottle that it fits neatly in my purse and no one would bat an eye. That’s the difference. I’ll give it to you to use again once we get to class. Goodness knows you’ll need it.”
He lifted his arms in surrender.
“Alright. Fine, you win.”
“Thank you,” she smiled smugly, pulling out her uniform and an overskirt, “Now either get in or get out. I need to change.”
“Get in? Why –”
“Oh, get over yourself, Tomioka-senpai. We’ve shared the same bed.”
“Once! You crawled into my bed when I had fallen asleep.”
“Yes, and you snore.”
A bright blush spread across his face.
It was always like this. Shinobu won every argument they had. It was a wonder he still engaged with every taunt she threw out. He felt like he was falling into the same trap every single time.
She smiled sweetly and stalked up to him like a predator. He pressed his back to the door, but before long, she had him pinned between her arms. For such a short person, she had the presence of a tiger devouring her prey.
She wrinkled her nose and burst out in laughter.
“You – you look – so scared ” She stuttered between laughs, pushing him aside and closing the door behind him. The door buzzed as it automatically locked.
“Kocho…” He glanced between her and the door behind him.
“What?” She winked at him as she peeled his cardigan off her shoulders, “Come on, I know you wanna see me naked.”
“I do not.”
“Oh?” She leaned in close, pressing him against the door as she put her ear against his chest. “Then what’s this I hear?”
“I– you–”
“Are you scared? Of a girl half your size?”
Kinda. A part of him wanted to admit it, if it would mean that she would let him out of the room.
She laughed and threw the cardigan onto his face.
“Alright, I’ve had my fill of teasing you for the day. I’m changing now, so you better not uncover your eyes until I tell you I’m done.”
He held the cardigan, covered in the smell of disgusting durian, close to his face as he slid down the door to sit on the floor.
She would be the death of him.