So this marks the beginning of my little collection that I will soon have going. Really this is just my solution to getting out all the ideas I have for this couple. I can think up scenarios galore, but they all end up being short little moments like this. So viola! None of these ficlets should end up being really long, nor having any real connection to each other, but if they do it'll be small. Anyways, this one actually wasn't meant to be the first, but well it was the first one I ended up finishing so I thought, what the heck and posted it anyway. I hope you enjoy this, as well as everything else that ends up in here.

Disclaimer: There was once a time when I was in charge of the whole of Atlus. And then I woke up and realized it was just a dream.


"What is that?"

"It's an apron. Why Senpai, I hadn't realized your vision was failing you this badly."

"I know what it is you moron. I meant why are you wearing it?"

Riichi cocked her head quizzically. Though whether she was really confused or just doing that to be cute he wasn't sure. His gaze was glued to the offending object. Baby pink, immodestly short, and almost obscenely frilly. At first he had been under the horrified impression that she had been naked underneath the damn thing, but as he got a better look it turned out she had indeed donned appropriate clothing. In his defense that short (infuriatingly so) skirt and pink camisole were pretty nonexistent in comparison to those damn frills. Even so, he made a mental note to completely ignore anything that came out of that idiot Junpei's mouth from now on. It was beginning to make him think pointless things.

"Senpai, you seem troubled. Is it that distracting?"

Shinjirou shook himself of his reverie and looked up to see her sweetly smiling expression. He knew her though, and thus knew how to read her quite well, and honestly the girl looked the definition of smug. He found his lip curling in irritation and the boy snorted roughly.

"Whatever," he muttered, choosing the option that was most likely to teach her a lesson. She would not tie him around her little finger with the ease he had been allowing her. It was damn time he stopped spoiling her; she was obviously letting it get to her head. "I'm teaching you crème brulee today right?" He made his way around the counter and began to remove pans and utensils, setting them on top of the granite countertop with the ease of someone who did this often.

Riichi screwed her face in a light pout before assisting him, pulling out whatever it was that looked like it needed to come out, and some things that probably had no business being near the counter. When they had finished Shinjirou eyed the things she had removed before sighing and ignoring them. "Almost as bad as Fuuka," he muttered under his breath. Riichi, who had heard, didn't take this too kindly either.

"All right," he spoke up, indicating he was beginning. "First you're gonna need to…" as soon as he focused his gaze on her again he couldn't help but trail off. Had the thing shrunk? He swore it was showing far more skin then when he had first seen it. Maybe the sheer amount of frills for such a flimsy article of clothing was making him lose it.

The girl looked confused for a split second before her lips curled into a smile that screamed dangerous. "Yes?" she ventured. "What should I do?" She clasped her hands behind her back and leaned foreword slightly. This action alone would had done nicely to draw one's eyes to her chest, but the stupid apron seemed to only make this part of her anatomy even more noticeable.

Shinjirou had to catch himself, and his head shot sideways so fast that there was no way she didn't notice. He cursed himself for allowing her to gain the upper hand, and as such refused to look at her again. "You're going to stick the cream in that pan," he said, snatching at the one he meant and almost throwing the poor dish at her, "and then put in a teaspoon of the vanilla extract." His voice was beginning to shake, which irritated him greatly, which only helped to make it shake more. To add fuel to the already blazing fire (and his now slightly burning cheeks) Riichi continued to look increasingly satisfied as he went on. Damnable girl.

"Then?" she asked, her voice far too innocent for her current expression.


He tried to continue, he made as valiant an effort as he could. But that damn apron and the fact that she obviously knew how to use it was making it impossible to get over his earlier shock. Shinjirou sighed, seemed to concede defeat, and leaned wearily on the counter. "Where the hell did you even find that?" he finally asked.

Riichi's face twisted into an expression of pure glee before her hands clenched the edges of the bottom hem and stretched it slightly upwards to show it off. "Oh Yukari let me borrow it," she explained. "It's a reject from the culture festival. Something about it being too short."

"I'll say," he muttered. She didn't miss it, but in pursuit of her ultimate goal she decided to mercifully ignore it.

"I remembered you'd said something about not getting ingredients all over my clothes, so when I saw it I thought it would help." She met his gaze and smiled sweetly, "Does it cause problems?"

Was she honestly going to make this out to be his fault? When Riichi refused to avert her gaze he decided that yes, she was going to play that card. Shinjirou found himself sighing again and couldn't even find the energy to snap at her.

Then she finally asked it. The question that would gnaw at his mind until he couldn't take it anymore, and that would seal her fate for the rest of the day and potentially the next morning as well.

"Should I take it off?"

Shinjirou seemed to find the energy that had eluded him the past ten minutes and snatched the wrist that had moved to untie the meager string at her waist that claimed to hold the damn apron on her. "Not until we're in my room you're not!"

Riichi at least had the decency to look mildly surprised at how quickly he had responded. "How bold Shinji," she cooed. Her free hand gently grasped the collar of his shirt and she pulled herself up on tiptoe to bring her face closer to his.

She had that infuriating (and though he'd never admit it out loud, really kind of sexy) glint in her eye, and looked far too pleased with herself, but at that moment he didn't really give a damn. If she wanted it that badly then by god he was going to let her have it.

"Just one thing." She 'hmmed' in response but was far too busy reveling in her success to really be listening to him. "Could you stop seducing me in the lounge. One of these days I'm going to jump you where everyone can see, and not give a damn if they do."