when i tell you that nagisa and shun are soulmates, attuned to each other’s actions, treating each other with tenderness and care, drawing each other to themselves... oh i truly mean it.
for the lovely faiza @vitaminmetawin, who rambled on with me about the metaphor of that egg scene, about how sora helps shun realise that there are joys to be found in every little moment, and about how banana bread is food for the soul.
They’re just sitting at home, the two of them. Sora is curled up at the table in a sweater that’s still a bit too large for her, tongue sticking of her mouth as she colours in a drawing. Shun has an eye on her as he rests on the floor next to her. He needs to always keep his hands busy, lest he fall back into old patterns of thoughts that pierce his chest like bitter aches left over from a life past. So he’s carving a piece of wood, shaping it into nothing real. The silence stretches itself across the room, a blanket of comfort for Shun. Nowadays, it’s easier for him to bite his tongue and stare into the ether than speak. His eyes catch on the clock--it’s not time for dinner, yet. He leans himself back against the chair, and settles down to continue carving the wood.
Sora tugs at the leg. When he looks down, he sees she’s pointing at the meagre fruit bowl. “Can we eat those bananas?” she asks, looking up at him with wide eyes. “I’m hungry.”
Shun looks at the bananas. They’ve ripened, too much past the point of eating them. He forces himself to stand up, placing the wood and knife on a high shelf where Sora can’t reach them, and then leaning back down to her. She looks hopeful. It tears Shun apart every time, to see her like that. She’s so unaffected by the pains of the world, or maybe she knows them, and takes them in stride. He wants her to stay like this forever. “We can make banana bread,” he says, instead, his voice cracking on the words.
Banana bread was never really something he’d ever had, always preferring traditional Japanese sweets, until Nagisa had made it for him, one day. He’d stumbled upon the recipe while looking up Western cake recipes, and they’d had overripe bananas. They didn’t have an oven, and so he’d ended up cooking it slowly in their pressure cooker, and it came out fluffy, and light. Shun had never been a fan of it, but because it was Nagisa, and because he’d lit up seeing that it’d worked, and because it felt like it was comforting his very soul--Shun had remembered it. He hasn’t eaten it in years.
Sora tilts her head. “What’s banana bread?” she asks. That wheedles out a small laugh from Shun. It’s becoming more common in her presence, slowly.
“You’ll see,” he says, standing up and reaching out for the bananas.
He tucks them underneath his arm and treads to the kitchen, setting them down on the counter. Sora peers over the counter as he rummages through the cupboards for the ingredients. He still doesn’t have an oven, but he does have a pressure cooker, second-hand and paid for with little money. It should do the trick. He normally doesn’t keep much sugar in the house, but ever since Nagisa had turned up on his doorstep, sheepish--Shun had started buying more of it. Nagisa likes sweets. He’s been buying a whole lot more of everything; the house in threes. Three toothbrushes, three pairs of shoes by the front door, three jackets hanging up by them. His hands grip the edge of the counter for a second, next to the sink, before his breath shudders back out of him.
“What do you have to do first?” asks Sora, shaking him back into the present. She’s washed her hands, just like Shun had quietly told her to, the first time they cooked together. She’s eager, and ready to please. Shun lets a small smile crook up at the corner of his mouth.
“Mash the bananas,” he says, peeling them and passing them to her. She gets to work on it, using her hands, and Shun lets her do it.
There’s something about her excitement that reminds him of Nagisa, light in his eyes never fading, and he swallows. Once she’s done, they put the rest of the wet ingredients into it, and Sora squeals when they mix in the leftover flour, just enough, and it puffs back up into her face. When it’s done and ready and they’ve put it into the greased and pre-heated pressure cooker, Sora leans back and claps her hands at Shun.
“Do you think Papa will like it?” she asks, and the question knocks Shun off his feet. It’s been years. He’s thought about Nagisa every day, because there wasn’t much else to do, and he’d always carried that hurt in his heart with him. He’d seen himself go still in the mirror, the joy leaking out from him. He doesn’t really think he’s felt anything for a very long time. But ever since they’d shown up on his doorstep... Sora finds joy in the simplest things. In pulling radishes, or going to the grocery store, or eating eggs.
Shun smiles at her. He doesn’t have to fake it. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”
The banana bread comes out a little odd, but it still tastes like the warmth Nagisa had fed him all those years ago, and so Shun counts it a success. He breaks it with Sora, and she loves it, eyes wide and alight and begging for another piece until her bedtime, even after she’s brushed her teeth. He reads to her until she stops complaining, and her little eyes droop shut, her breathing evening out. Shun strokes her hair quietly, and all he can remember is Nagisa’s “I love it!” all those years ago, and Sora’s “I love it!” today. Shun’s heart had ached on both occasions.
It’s midnight when Nagisa comes home. The door clicks open, and Shun hears him pad in. He swallows as Nagisa pops his head in the door. “She’s asleep?” he whispers. Shun looks at the floor, and nods. “Okay, I’ll just--”
“Nagisa,” he says, forcing himself to look up at him. Nagisa’s eyes are open, readable, every emotion he has plastered all over his face. He looks soft under the light of the living room. His eyes question Shun. “Sora and I made banana bread today. There’s some left over on the table.”
Nagisa’s breath seems to catch in his chest. “Banana bread?” he says, and it’s so gentle that Shun has to look away. “Will you come and have some with me?”
Shun chances a glance at a sleeping Sora. She’s been breaking bread for them ever since day one, held them together, provided them with little joys he had long given up on. She didn’t let him give up. She did what kids do best, what Sora does best--and has given him a place to belong.
It’s enough to make Shun swallow and to make him say, “I will.”
heritage kitchen is on nagisas street right so i wonder if sometimes like shun will help out at heritage n then when hes done hes js like “ykw why dont i go visit nagisa” and then they hang out yay ^_^ i think that would be cute awe nagishunners (shungisa ? shunnagi wansoy soywan IDK) get on this 👀👀👀👀
