If you want something to do with all that extra height, Tamaki, Mitsuki's recently started to notice he's losing some. He's in denial, though; he can't possibly be getting shorter. No world, not their home one, not the world of the carnival, not the ones they visit, no world can be that cruel. Can it?

He's relieved that Tamaki's willing to get the door, though. Mitsuki's just taking cookies out of the oven. Shortbread, shaped like king pudding, pure unadulterated Tamaki comfort food. If he knew how to make the pudding itself, Mitsuki would have, but hopefully these will be a good alternative.

He sets the tray on top of the oven then turns around because sorry, what? Mitsuki leans over, looking darkly up at Tamaki. "Tamaki, don't just say that." His tone is gentle because he's still handling his friend with kid gloves after what happened, but you can't just declare that about someone's feet.