Pan Roasted Apple Cake

I waited in the lobby until the staff was ready with my room key. Once I was called up, I thought about returning to Ringomori to tell her the news, but my arms were tiring themselves with all the carrying I was doing; yes, I wasn't the most muscular man on Earth. Therefore, I decided to drop off the bags in the room.

The room was on the fifth and highest floor of the hotel, so I took the elevator up and it happened to be one of the closer rooms. Upon opening the door, there was a small corridor that led to the open bedroom, it was only slightly bigger than my orphanage room, which wasn't a bad thing at all. There was a warm tone due to the off-white color and atmosphere.

Directly to the right of the door was the bathroom. It had a toilet right next to the sink with a bathtub compacted together; the tub was combined with a shower head. The main room was also condenses in size, but still effectively layered. The single bed along the west wall was wide enough to fit two people – a fact that tickled me pink. There was also a long but thin wooden desk with a chair tucked under it along the east wall. On the desk was a hotel telephone, TV and remote, and other standard amenities for a hotel.
I think she'll like it, I thought.

I set the bags on the bed when I received a phone call from Ringomori and answered immediately.

"We [I] finished baking the dessert!"

I left the room into the hallway.
"That's great. We'll [I'll] head over now, so just wait––"

"Actually Vieira-kun, we're [I'm] already in the lobby. Watanabe-san walked me here with an umbrella."

Wa––who? I-Is that the name of the worker? How did I not read her name tag earlier?

"So, are we [You] in our [Your] room?" she asked.

With a slightly higher pitch in my voice, I said, "Yeahhh…and it is our room…no joke intended."

Silence over the phone, I heard the elevator's ding and saw her stepping out of it. I hung up the call and saw her approaching me with a box in her hand that had the bakery's logo on the front. On top of it was a stainless steel drinking container.

We both stood in front of the room and I explained to her the situation. I believed the effects of the storm and soaked clothes had finally caught up to me because I started to get some headaches. Her reaction to us sharing a room was similar to mine in the lobby: Self-conscious confusion.

I opened the door for her and she had her first look of the room.

"Awe, this is a lovely room, it's quite spacious too. This is exactly the type of room atmosphere that we'd [I'd] love to have, if we [I] could have our [my] own room in a home."

She placed the box and steel container on the desk and I turned on the TV to see the news about the storm.

"I-Is it okay if we–– I take a shower first?" she asked nervously. "I want to dry these clothes as soon as possible."

I avoided eye contact as I replied, "O-Of course, go ahead. I'll be out here lookin' at the TV, so…you do that."

She grabbed her purse and entered the bathroom.

I decided to open the cotton curtains to see the darkness of the Aomori storm. The lack of moonlight caused the terrain to remain unknown. Even the city lights were hardly visible from my position. The raindrops splattered on the window and all I did was follow them to the bottom. Distant flashes of lightning lit up the city for milliseconds at a time, the trumpeting sound of thunder followed shortly.

I shot up at the sound of water turning on and hitting the bathtub. I did what most normal teenage boys did and taught about the situation.
Alrighty, there's a girl one wall away from me takin' a shower, and here I am thinkin' about it…

I then did what most normal teenage boys didn't.
Now stop thinkin' about it! We're miles away from the orphanage in the middle of a storm! I need to focus and remain logical that way she can stay calm and feel safe.
I ran my fingers through my quick-drying but still-dampened hair and patted the top of my head to purge my thoughts, then sat in the desk chair.

Without realizing it, I was zoning out while staring at the wall behind the TV. I only regained mental consciousness when I heard the bathroom door creak open and Ringomori stepped out. Her clothes were dried and I saw her standing there still drying a few strands of hair with a towel.

That was when I felt an elysian sensation. Staring at her natural beauty, with her clear and smooth face that must have been sculpted by the hands of Kichijoten herself. Her silky hair that flowed down her back was as smooth and sweet as the cinnamon it imitated the color from. She was always like that, and my heart fluttered because of her. I had felt that sensation before, but never to this extent. Her ochre eyes connected with mine, and it was only when they looked away that I realized she was calling me.

"Can…Can you stop…staring at me? It's rather…embarrassing."
A nervous chuckle followed.

Registering the fact that she was uncomfortable, I dropped my head and vigorously stared at the carpet.
"S-Sorry, Ringomori-san. I-I guess it's m-my turn to shower now."

The roles were reversed and I was the one showering. I spent my time replaying the events of the day. Once I was out of the shower and put on my relatively dry clothes, I had realized a conclusion.

Muttering to myself in the mirror, so quietly and delicately that I could barely hear myself, I said,
"I've fallen in love with her."

The world was quiet, no storm, no voices, no wind. It was peaceful until the ringing of my phone took me away from a tranquilized trance. It was a text message from Daishi. It read:

Happy birthday Vieira-senpai! Hope the trip is go'n great for you and that you're safe too. My mom misses her unofficial son so get back soon. I'll be wait'n for my souvenir too!

I reread his message over and over to the point where the words were on every surface I looked at. From what I remembered, I was never accustomed to friends, and now I was staying with one who had transitioned into my crush, and another one went out of his way to send me his good wishes. I hadn't noticed how much has changed.

When I left the bathroom, Ringomori was setting up plates. I stared at her with the knowledge that I liked her, but she didn't look any different from before. Perhaps I had already been looking at her with that knowledge.

There was only one chair, but she assured me that I could sit down on it while she sat on the edge of the bed.

"Is it okay if we [I] record us eating? We [I] want to record our [Your] reaction to my first attempt at recreating my 'Pan Roasted Apple Cake' and 'Matcha Tea' recipes. It's been seven years since I last made them."

"Go for it," I answered.

She opened the bakery box and took out the dessert; I saw it for the first time. It was circular in shape and had glazed slides of Toki apples blanketing the dough as toppings. She cut out a triangular slice and placed it on my plate. The buttery and doughy crust was a deep and golden perfection. She poured a cup of tea, and the freshly hot steams emerged from the minted surface.

We each took a plate and cup. She wanted me to have the first bite, so I clasped my hands together and said, "Itadakimasu."

I took a moderate slice and had my first bite. The ambrosial fluff of the luscious and velvety dough on my tongue coordinated with the toothsome crunch of the apple slices. It would have been the perfect experience if my headaches had remained calm.

I thought the shower would have put them at ease until I went to sleep, but when I continued to eat the cake and took my first sip of the matcha tea, I realized the terrifying truth about the kind of headaches I was having. The smell and taste became stronger than anything else I'd ever eaten in my life before, but at the same time, not technically.

I lost feeling in my hand and accidentally dropped the fork.

"Vi-Vieira-kun?"

I tried to keep my cool, but my feet were bouncing on the floor by themselves, and my heart was palpitating faster. I had to ask her,
"R-Ringomori-san, when you were a child…d-did you ever have pigtails?"

"I…I…"

I hadn't the control to turn and look at her, but her stutter told me she was perplexed.

"Yes…I did."

I forced my eyes shut.
"I-Is your old house three streets away from the o-orphanage, on the way to CL-CLARIS?"

With moderate hesitation, she said "Yes" again.

Finally, I twisted my neck just enough to see her. I had blurred eyes and a breaking dam that matched the storm outside.

"Wh-Why," I asked. "Why didn't you tell me…y-you were a part of my previous life?"