Seven Years of Summer [KIRIBAKU]

Silent Laughter and Loud Tears

There was a cake, in the middle of the table in the Kirishimas' dining room.

It was quite tall, soft like a plumcake, and with a thick coating of wild strawberry jam.

There were two slices missing, and two dirty plates with nothing more but crumbles on them pushed away from the edge of the table.

Katsuki, kneeling on a chair, was inspecting his fingers, covered in red jam, debating whether or not to lick them clean.

He glanced at Eijirou, who was staring at the cake as if waiting for it to cut itself another slice and pass it to him.

Katsuki said a little 'screw it' and started cleaning off the jam from his fingers with his tongue. It didn't really work well, though, and it was leaving his fingers sticky and gross.

He jumped down from the chair, saying "I'm gonna wash my hands," and pointing at the kitchen sink.

"Wait, me too," said Eijirou, hopping off the chair and going after him.

Katsuki washed first, then left room for his friend and leaned against the counter to wait.

His eye caught something new in the kitchen that hadn't been there the day before, when they had baked the cake with Eijirou's mum. It had been a very nice afternoon, and a great pity that they couldn't eat the cake right away. Katsuki had decided that he liked cooking. Making cakes was exciting and also very rewarding. The cake was delicious today.

He detached from the counter and walked over to the new arrival. It was a picture. A family portrait.

He glanced briefly at Eijirou, Koishi, and Mrs. Kirishima, holding both twins in her arms, and then looked up at the figure hovering over them like a big, dark shadow. It was the first time he saw Eijirou's father. Like, wow, he was big. He barely fit in the frame, and they all were cut under the knees to make him fit. He studied his face, the sharp cut of his jaw and the deep frown on his forehead. His hair was slightly lighter than the rest of his family, but had the same straight spikiness of Koishi's.

"What are you looking at?" Eijirou asked, getting near while drying his hands with a towel.

"It wasn't here yesterday," Katsuki answered, pointing at the photo.

"Oh yeah. It got developed yesterday. My dad brought it in last night."

"This is your dad?" he asked, pressing a finger on the glass on his face.

"Duh," Eijirou chuckled. "Who else?" Then pulled his hand away from the glass and rubbed at the fingerprint with the towel to clean it.

"I don't know... it's not like I've met him."

Eijirou bit the inside of his cheek. "Right."

"What's he like?"

"Mmh... tall."