2454/Cultivated Growth

Cultivated Growth
Date of Scene:	07 April 2025
Location:	Cafe BAKE Neko
Synopsis:	Masato arrives at the Cat Cafe with a gift for Makoto that he hopes will smooth things over between them and clear the air, since that day at the Plaza. She's been baking and didn't expect him at all! But they can't keep tiptoeing around each other, and it's time to move forward.
Cast of Characters:	Nephrite, Makoto Kino

---

Nephrite has posed:
Masato was not overly fond of the idea of a cat cafe. The last thing he thought he'd want alongside a pastry was cat hair-- coffee black and a cat to match.

But even so, he knew that it was the best place to find Makoto Kino today. If nothing else, the scent of baked goods ran slightly more inviting than usual, even despite the felines.

With a large box under arm and sunglasses pushed atop his head, the ring of the door announced his entry. Masato didn't waste too much time milling about, wandering through to find her and ignoring the slight trepidation he felt about doing this unannounced. They had seemed to be operating under a rule of polite avoidance, lately. Better to rip it off like a bandaid, he thought, come what may.

Makoto Kino has posed:
It's spring, which means strawberry season, and Makoto gets to bake on Mamoru's dime. Trying out a strawberry mille-feuille for the cafe's special menu this week had seemed like an obvious choice.

What seems like approximately a million layers of puff pastry, cream piping, and sliced strawberries later, Makoto is regretting some of her life choices.

But she's finished, and all that's left is to help shift the pastries into the display cases. She's still got her apron on, her hair is a mess, and there's a smudge of pastry cream on her face and pink juice under her fingernails.

So of course, that's when the bell chimes and she looks up from her task and there he is.

Mako kind of freezes for a second, feeling her face warming. "Oh, uh. Hi!"

Nephrite has posed:
How he finds her makes him quietly greatful for the stars' guidance, in a sense of timing. The slightly dishevelled look of one who has been bustling away by the heat of ovens and deeply engrossed in a culinary battle, piping delicate shapes in uniform application. Sapphire eyes dropped briefly to the fruits of her labours-- fruits indeed, for the strawberries involved-- and could not help but admire her skill.

Stood before the display, he nodded at her over the glass. "Morning, Kino. You look like you've been quite busy, today."

Makoto Kino has posed:
Makoto lets out a breathless little laugh. "Ah, yeah. I got a little too ambitious, maybe..." Remembering herself, she slides the tray of mille-feuille into the display case and straightens. A hand comes up, only for her to catch herself before she can get sticky in her hair and let it drop again instead.

Not awkward at all.

It's fine. She can be normal about all this, and not think about what a mess she is right now when he totally looks like he walked out of a magazine. "Mostly done now, anyway," she adds after maybe a little too much of a hesitation; "except for cleanup. Were you getting something, or just heading through?"

Not that she actually works at the cafe or anything, but she is behind the counter.

Nephrite has posed:
His brows rise a little as she almost takes sticky fingers into her hair, and tailors his smile so as not to look too amused. He'd wanted to arrive at an opportune moment, certainly, but this felt almost like he held an unfair advantage.

The close of that Libra-Aries Eclipse cycle was working for him.

"As temtpted as I am by all of this," he gestured at the display, "I was hoping that I might be able to talk to you. If you've got a minute or two to spare."

Makoto Kino has posed:
"You were?" Yep, completely normal, not flustered at all. Please ignore the way her eyes widened and she had to take a second there to re-rail her train of thought. "I mean - sure, of course. Give me just a minute or two--"

She scoots off without actually waiting for Masato to answer.

In short order she emerges again, having shed the apron, washed her hands and scrubbed a damp hand towel quickly over her face. There is no helping her hair, not fresh off an afternoon in the warmth of the kitchen, but for the most part she's composed herself reasonably well.

"Sorry about that," Makoto says as she comes to meet Masato. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Nephrite has posed:
He had opened his mouth to say something, but in a twirl, Makoto had vanished out the back again. So he stood, waiting, ignoring the mews of cats and holding a large box, for her to return.

When she does, he seems to perk to attention again, and it is perhaps obvious that he truly only came with the intention of seeing her. A short glance down at the box betrayed him, and Masato cleared his throat.

"I realise we haven't seen much of each other since that day in the Plaza..." A tentative open, because it was impossible to ignore the fact. Evidently, it had not left the back of Masato's mind since, lingering there like unfinished-- or at the very least, unsatisfying-- business. "I've been a little busy sorting out some personal business, lately. But I did have something I wanted to give you."

He motioned to a booth. "If you'd like to sit down? You've been on your feet all day."

Makoto Kino has posed:
His glance down draws Makoto's attention briefly to the box, and fresh color rises in her face as she realizes that she had just left him standing there like that. "Oh - sure!"

Impossible not to remember the day she turned Akuma, and everything she let loose in the process. Impossible not to feel ashamed of the way she's been tiptoeing around since. In her head, Makoto understands that she can't keep on the way she has; he is one of Mamoru's Shitennou the way she is one of Usagi's Senshi, circles destined to overlap.

She moves to the booth he indicated, slides into a seat. She seems to have a bit of trouble figuring out what to do with her hands. "Not really all day," Mako demurs, "But it's still nice to sit. I... um, I hope it hasn't been anything too troublesome that you've been dealing with lately?"

Nephrite has posed:
As Masato moves to sit down, he places the box on the table, and it's evident that there's something weighted inside. Brown waves tumble over his shoulder as he does, a brief hum offered to her as he settles in.

"It's been... more difficult than I'd have liked. My father's looking to sell the property in Setagaya, because he's moved to California. Unfortunately, that means I've been the one who's had to start packing it up."

Makoto Kino has posed:
"Oh, I'm sorry. That must be a lot of work for one person." The self-conscious awkwardness ebbs from Makoto's posture as she processes what Masato has told her. "It can't be easy, either, having your family so far away overseas."

She hesitates briefly, gaze drifting curiously again to the box. She makes herself meet Masato's eyes again. "...Um..." she says, "I've owed you an apology for a while now, I think. For the things I said back then."

Nephrite has posed:
HIs father tended to be far away, even when they were in the same room. But Masato felt it was inappropriate to state this so bluntly to her.

Instead, he finds himself looking into the brilliant green of her gaze, and feels an immediate relief for it. It felt so strange to him that she felt the need to apologise for anything that had happened, when if anything, he felt the burden of such a thing.

"No, don't... I understand what it feels like." And he did know-- to have dark forces take hold of something private, twist those things inside of them, and bring them out in the worst way. Raw, like an exposed nerve. It was little wonder there had been a mortified sting to come after.

"I've thought about that day quite a bit. How you must have felt... I should be sorry. When I came back from overseas I had wanted to talk with you, sooner, but I didn't."

Makoto Kino has posed:
At this, Makoto shakes her head, and the corner of her mouth turns up in a rueful smile. "You don't need to be sorry about that," she says. "I wasn't making it easy, either... even though you'd put yourself on the spot to help me."

Pushing her hair back from her face, she draws in a deep breath. "What I mean to say is, you shouldn't feel like you owe me anything." The moment the words are out of her mouth, she's flushing again, face hot. "--sorry, that sounded really presumptuous, didn't it? Wow."

Nephrite has posed:
A small smirk ticked the corner of his mouth, and he inclined his head. "I don't mind a little presumptuousness, if it's from you."

He did lift his hand and set it to the side of the box, patting at it. "But, this is something that I want you to have. I've been taking care of it as best I can, but as much as I appreciate it's beauty, I'm still working at my ability to... cultivate growth."

Masato pushed it forwards with both hands, so that it was unmistakably a gift. Were she to open it, she would find the soft pink blooms of an Azalea bonsai peeking back at her from its sturdy pot.

Makoto Kino has posed:
Well that's definitely not going to do anything to help the blushing. It's a relief when he gives Makoto the excuse to focus on the box; she tugs it the rest of the way across the table and sets about opening it only a little hesitantly.

At the sight of the blooming bonsai, Mako stills. The look that softens her expression has the same kind of affectionate warmth that other people might give to an adorable kitten. With careful hands, she reaches into the box and lifts the pot out enough that she can get a better look at the azalea.

"You should give yourself a little more credit, Sanjouin-san." Looking up at him over the top of the bonsai, she offers him a smile. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

Nephrite has posed:
Azaleas-- for serenity and peace-- were one thing, but pink Azaleas represented love and romance, and above that, femininity. This much, Masato knew, and he suspected Makoto did as well. He didn't bother putting it into clumsy words. The way she smiled, he felt certain that this plant would bring her comfort.

"I've had my hands full with my mother's Bonsai trees, amongst the other things. I've had to salvage quite a few from that property that went overlooked while I was... preoccupied. This one held out far better than some of the others, so the credit isn't all mine."

Time to be earnest, he thought, and say something honest. "But it reminded me of you."

Makoto Kino has posed:
Makoto sets the potted azalea back down into the gift box with the same care she used in lifting it out. "I'll take good care of it," she promises, touching one green leaf lightly with a fingertip - yes, she's very well aware of the symbolic meaning of a pink azalea. Considering the side of herself she showed under the influence of the Akuma, he could hardly have offered a more touching gesture than this.

"If you need any help still with caring for the others," she says, looking up again, "I haven't ever really tried much to do with bonsai before, but I am pretty good with plants."

Nephrite has posed:
"Please." A small flicker of gratitude softened him, genuinely comforted by that offer and unable to hide it. "Izou intends on setting up a garden on the rooftop... I've never been much of a green thumb, but if you'd be willing to come and put up with us, I'd appreciate that."

He shook his head some, brows furrowed. "He's been doing what he can to save a Chinese Oak that's been in the family for over a century. As much as he drives me up the wall, I owe him for that."

Masato clicked his tongue. "I feel like I knew more about their care before Obsidian, but a lot of that is... hazy to me now." Maybe that was too much to share, so he smiled politely. "I'm hoping that I'll remember more as I go."

Makoto Kino has posed:
Mako's eyes widen. "Oh, I'd love to see that!" The exclamation rushes out of her with no hesitation. Catching herself, she laughs a little. "The Chinese oak and the roof garden both. Hopefully having me around won't bother Saitou-chan too much, because I'm not sure I'd be able to stay away."

Absently, she reaches up to rub a hand across the back of her neck. "If it's something you knew before," she says, more slowly now as she picks her words with a little more care, "I bet it'll come back to you the more you do. Your head may not remember, but the knowledge is still there somewhere, waiting to be found again."

Nephrite has posed:
"You're probably right... I'm sure it'll just take time." He wanted to believe it, too. That slowly, Masato Sanjouin would simply reassert himself and the dream-like wisp of this lifetime would surface aginst, from the ocean of all the rest. Like sunken treasures, waiting to be found, perhaps there were better parts of him that would soon be found and restored.

He had no idea how much he stood to lose or not, as he aged, or what further confusion might come. But if the Fade could return something, rather than only take away... if Nephrite of the distant past, and the man he'd been in Beryl's Thrall, could simply settle into the background of his life like a subtle counterweight to keep the balance? He might find a way to spend the rest of his life as a decent man.

Memories were fickle, he'd learned. The bonds he formed now were the ones he could take forward. They were the support he would need to simply be Masato Sanjouin.

"But don't worry about being a bother. I annoy him all the time. It's a very fun past time." He lightened to chuckle. "It'd do wonders for my sanity, having you around to drown him out."

Makoto Kino has posed:
It'll just take time, he says, and Makoto nods slightly, sympathy and quiet encouragement softening her expression. "Most of the really important things do."

Azaleas can also be for patience, she reflects. She might have been about to mention it, but Masato's comments about Izou distract her into trying, not very successfully, to smother fresh laughter.

"Well," she says, "for the sake of your sanity, then, I'll see what I can do. As long as nothing's getting set on fire, it's probably okay?"

She has, of course, heard about Minako's hair ribbon.

Nephrite has posed:
A grimace briefly interrupts the half-smile at the reminder of that. "No fires," Masato assures with a show of his palms, "Just... flowers. And maybe some off colour comments, but he's doing his best."

It's light hearted, all the same, and he's thankful for the ease. The frozen stiltedness felt like it was finally melting away, giving leave for something to begin blooming again. It occured to him that this was the first time in a long while he'd truly gotten to look at Makoto. He could hardly take his eyes off her-- despite mussed hair, he wanted to record every detail anew, while she was still here in her element, with the scent of strawberries and pastry in the air.

"What are those pastries called?"

Makoto Kino has posed:
"I've known Mamoru-san and Saitou-kun long enough," Mako says, still looking amused. "I can survive some snark and bantery, I'm pretty sure. No worries there."

The shift of topic catches her slightly off guard, just enough that her brows lift and it takes her a half-second to change mental gears. "Hm? The ones I was bringing out?" Automatically she glances back towards the display. "They're called mille-feuilles. Sometimes people call them Napoleons, though strictly speaking those are made with almond cream." She's making a very rueful face as she turns back to face Masato again. "I was trying a little too much this time, but they came out pretty well anyway."

Nephrite has posed:
"Mille-feuilles..." He tests the words as he gazes at the cabinet, committing this to memory. Before he leaves, he intends to buy three of them, but resolves to take them to go. It is an easy excuse to eat her cooking, to keep some for seconds, and a spare for thieves.

When Masato's gaze returns to her, he clarifies, "I wasn't allowed a lot of sweets, growing up. I'm not so familiar with them, but even so... you make it look effortless to fill a shop full, really. You won't have any trouble with a wedding cake."

It was an offhanded musing, but it revealed he'd been paying some attention.

Makoto Kino has posed:
"Wedding cake on the moon!," Makoto laughs. "I don't even know how that's going to work. I still have to talk to Usagi-chan about what she wants, other than I'm sure we'll need something chocolate or other for Mamoru-san..."

An elbow props against the edge of the table, so that Mako can rest her chin in her hand. In this posture, she regards Masato curiously. "It was my mom who got me started on baking, when I was little," she says. "It seems like a shame that you missed out, growing up. Or--" she catches herself as the thought belatedly occurs, "--do you even like sweets? Not everyone does."

Nephrite has posed:
A brown brow ticks higher at that question, and his first urge is to say yes, of course, and your mille-feuilles will be delightful. But he finds himself poking his tongue into his cheek to reconsider that. It might not be the best answer, but he may as well give her a truthful one.

"I can't really say. If I order a crepe, it's usually got seafood in it." A faint roll of his shoulders eased him back into his seat. "My mother didn't cook. She was a landscape artist for wealthy clients. So she was always very busy... As a child, I remember she had food delivered or we went out to restaurants."

Makoto Kino has posed:
Makoto has to work at schooling the sudden mild dismay out of her expression. She doesn't entirely manage it.

She knows, of course, that not everyone has the time or inclination to cook. There's nothing wrong with relying on meal delivery services and restaurants; she knows this. Still, there's a part of her that can't help thinking it's rather sad.

She tamps down the feeling and nods, keeping her tone light. "That's too bad... but at least you'll have plenty of chances to figure out what you like or don't like, living around here." A tip of her head and a quick glance upward encompass both the cafe and the rest of the building above.

And if she's just acquired an excuse to leave this or that baking project in his kitchen, well, she's already more or less claimed the space anyway, hasn't she?

Nephrite has posed:
"Mamoru probably thinks my tastebuds are broken, at this point." Masato concedes flatly, as if he's often mildly harrassed into trying things. "I made the grand mistake of trying tacos in California-- which were perfectly serviceable tacos, mind-- but I brought the experience up with the group chat, and now Tamaki and Mamoru seem to think I require them to live."

This was a mild complaint, perhaps, but it was in fact a deep secret within the group at present.

"They keep wanting to do taco nights, or trawl all over the districts looking for decent local attempts late at night. Taco pictures, taco clock-toks--" He sounds exhausted, "I'm half expecting Mamoru to come up with Taco t-shirts next. I've no idea how to stop it."

Makoto Kino has posed:
At this, Mako's green eyes get very big. "Oh, no." She covers her mouth with one hand, trying valiantly not to laugh. "I'm so sorry!"

Is she sorry about what he's going through with the guys, or is she apologizing for fighting off giggles?

Maybe both.

"And even if you've said something, it probably only encourages them, I bet. Like having a song stuck in your head, the only thing that's going to make it stop is to replace it with something else."

Nephrite has posed:
"I'm so sick of tacos," He shakes his head, conceding to a self-defeated grin as he looks across at her, "I can't like anything without them doing this."

Sorely evident, too, in how often they needled him about Makoto.

"That's my secret. Don't tell anybody."

Makoto Kino has posed:
"Not a soul," Makoto promises immediately. "Those jerks!" She's still laughing a little, but it's incredulous, sympathetic. Poor Masato. Besieged with tacos. The perils of having brothers.

Eventually she gets herself reined in and she sits up a little straighter, letting out a breath. "If it helps," she offers, "I've been trying to come over pretty often and make sure there's a few decent meals ready in the fridge. It's not like Mamoru-san even uses most of the fancy appliances he had put in." She pulls a face, faintly disgusted and affectionate at the same time. "I can promise no tacos, at least."

Nephrite has posed:
"And thank the Stars for that," Masato scoffed gently, "If it weren't for you, he'd probably have scurvy by now."

He did chuckle some, the good humour freeing as he tilted his head, casually leaning an elbow on the back of the booth. "But... maybe I could take you out to eat, sometime, too."

Makoto Kino has posed:
"Saitou-kun probably wouldn't let Mamoru-san get scurvy." Makoto pauses, considering that for another beat or so. "Probably."

The suggestion that he might take her out to dinner, delivered oh so casually, brings her thoughts to a full stop. Almost immediately a fresh rush of pink color rises in her cheeks. "Ah?" she says, and blushes even harder at her own inanity. Get it together, Mako-chan!

"I mean - I'd like that!" she hurries to say. "If it's something you'd like to do. To get away from the tacos or whatever."

Nephrite has posed:
"Good," Masato offers her a pleased smile that reaches his eyes, and he lightly brushes fringe from his brow, "There's a bistro near the park I like. Classy without insisting on itself. Excellent Filet Mignon."

After a moment of consideration, he flicks the hand. "If you're free on Friday, I'll take you there."

Makoto Kino has posed:
Makoto bites her lip briefly, her brow furrowing as she thinks ahead to the week's end. "Friday... should be fine. I'll be free. I mean, short of some kind of horrible youmasplosion or something, but we'll try to avoid that."

She offers him a smile in return, lopsided but warm. "Sorry. Friday's great. I'll be looking forward to it."

Nephrite has posed:
"Well, even if something big goes down, right in the middle of dinner... They'll have a pair of very good looking guests there to sort it all out. Won't they?"

His brows rose and he smirked some, though it had a unique fondness to it. He enjoyed the way she was looking at him, just now.

"I'll come and pick you up shortly after six."

Makoto Kino has posed:
A breathless little laugh escapes Makoto, and she nods. "I guess you're right," she agrees, a hand going self-consciously to the back of her neck again. It's hard not to be flustered when he smirks like that.

In the next moment, she's scooting her way out of the booth and onto her feet, turning an apologetic look his way. "For now, I should really go finish cleaning up the kitchen. I kind of left it looking like a fruit-related war had broken out in there. But... thank you. I'm really glad we finally managed to talk like this."

Nephrite has posed:
A fruit related warzone. She had looked something like a strawberry splattered soldier when he'd first arrived, that was true.

"Of course. Time to clear out the no-man's land." Masato rapped his knuckles upon the wooden table, and shifted now to stand as well. "But I'm glad I was able to see you today... And that bonsai. I know it's in good hands with you."

Standing at his full height, he inclined his head low, sapphire eyes holding hers. "I'll talk to you again soon."

Makoto Kino has posed:
"Yeah." For the moment managing to forget how flustered she is, Makoto smiles brightly. "See you on Friday."

Careful not to jostle the pot too much inside the box, she collects the azalea to carry back with her. A little bob of a bow, and then she's headed off into the back towards the cafe kitchen, with a hint of a bounce in her step and all kinds of half-formed thoughts spinning around in her head.

Nephrite has posed:
He lingered just long enough to watch her go, hands pocketed, and a content curve about his mouth that rarely settled there.

"See you on Friday." He repeated quietly to himself, only to be interrupted by the rubbing of a cat against his trouser leg. Loud purring and the unfortunate cling of white fur against dark slacks.

Damned cat cafe.