uuuuggggghhhhhhh
o/ I have Final Fantasy 12 Revenant Wings now! divadrummer was selling stuff for her upcoming move, and I snagged it~ .... yes, I know, but I have a hard time convincing myself to spend money on games.
"I had instant ramen," said Kagami, beginning to gather up a pile of dishes. "It's hard to burn that."
The quality of silence in the room changed. Kagami looked over to see Tendou staring at him as if he had grown an extra head, colored green and with spotted tentacles for hair.
"There wasn't a ramen stand open," he felt obliged to add, as he put the dishes in the sink. "And I'm kind of tired of mac and cheese."
A strange noise ripped through Tendou's throat, a raw animal sound of pain. "From a box?" he said.
Some unknown demon in Kagami woke up. He smiled at Tendou cheerfully. "Yep! With margarine and skim milk." He paused to gauge the effect on Tendou. "The night before last I splurged and went out to the combini and got sushi. It was half-off."
"You," said Tendou, pointing a shaking finger at Kagami, "You are not qualified to have tastebuds."
"But stuff like that is good enough if you're tired, isn't it?" said Kagami innocently.
Tendou stood up, stripped his jacket off and stalked into the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves. "I'll show you 'good enough'," he said. "I suppose you eat soup from a can, too." He nudged Kagami aside, turned on the faucet and scrubbed his hands nearly red.
"Er, yes?" said Kagami, caught slightly by surprise.
Tendou made another animal sound of rage, and began to thump pans around. Kagami kept a straight face. "Are you going to make the type of chicken where you put it in a pan with condensed cream of mushroom soup and rice?" he said. "I like that a lot! I used to make it for Ryou and me all the time!"
The glare Tendou sent him made him take an involuntary step back, lifting his hands in front of him.
Tendou wrenched the faucet on, and water sprayed full force into a pot. He banged it onto the stove with vigor, paused, took a deep breath, and then let it out again. The next pan was placed on the stove with exquisite care, and Tendou turned the gas on beneath them. Kagami turned the water back on and began stacking dishes neatly as he rinsed them. He watched Tendou from the corner of his eye. Tendou had a brick of cheese out and was grating it with quick, expert movements.
Tendou said, "Food is important. You need to take it seriously."
Kagami poured detergent into the sink as it filled, and rolled his eyes. "I work in a restaurant, Tendou."
Tendou said, "Huh," and then, "Surely you've been to restaurants where they didn't take food seriously."
Kagami thought about it for a second and realized that Tendou had a point. "Like that one awful Italian place in the new river district?" he said. His father had taken him there once, and they had shared one of their brief moments of understanding over poking the ravioli with helpless, horrified fascination that anything so expensive could taste so mediocre. To make things worse, the entire restaurant had been filled with trendy young professionals eating with every appearance of enjoyment. It was enough to make you believe in pod people.
Tendou snorted. "That's not Italian," he said.
"Well, there was tomato sauce and pasta," said Kagami practically, "and a candle stuck in a wine bottle with wax drips all down it. So it was supposed to be Italian, right?"
"Their chef," said Tendou darkly, "learned to make ravioli out of a book. And I know for a fact their sauce base comes in a can."
"Has anybody ever told you that you're a little weird about food?" said Kagami. He rolled up his sleeves and began to scrub the plates, one after the other, leaving them in a wet shining pile in the other sink.
"Food is important," repeated Tendou, measuring out the other ingredients.
Something in the way he said it made Kagami pause in his scrubbing and look at Tendou. "You know, I've been wondering this for a while," he said. "When did you learn to cook?"
"I don't know," said Tendou, beginning to beat something in a bowl.
"Huh?" said Kagami, staring at him.
"My first memory is of cooking," said Tendou, scattering handfuls of cheese into the sauce. "We were making pancakes, and I was dropping blueberries into the batter."
"What, with your grandmother?" said Kagami.
"No," said Tendou, staring into the bowl and stirring the mix like it was the only thing in the universe. "With my parents."
Kagami was silent for a moment. Tendou never talked about his parents, even though Kagami could quote fifteen different proverbs from Tendou's grandmother from memory. He knew from what little information ZECT had on file that his parents had died when he was very young, but Tendou always seemed to have sprung fully formed from someone's forehead. "My mother used to let me help her a lot, too," he said, keeping his voice as light as he could. "Although I was always dropping things."
the terrible zombie lurches back to the grave. man, I slept for four hours this afternoon and I still want to sleep moar. >_>
"I had instant ramen," said Kagami, beginning to gather up a pile of dishes. "It's hard to burn that."
The quality of silence in the room changed. Kagami looked over to see Tendou staring at him as if he had grown an extra head, colored green and with spotted tentacles for hair.
"There wasn't a ramen stand open," he felt obliged to add, as he put the dishes in the sink. "And I'm kind of tired of mac and cheese."
A strange noise ripped through Tendou's throat, a raw animal sound of pain. "From a box?" he said.
Some unknown demon in Kagami woke up. He smiled at Tendou cheerfully. "Yep! With margarine and skim milk." He paused to gauge the effect on Tendou. "The night before last I splurged and went out to the combini and got sushi. It was half-off."
"You," said Tendou, pointing a shaking finger at Kagami, "You are not qualified to have tastebuds."
"But stuff like that is good enough if you're tired, isn't it?" said Kagami innocently.
Tendou stood up, stripped his jacket off and stalked into the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves. "I'll show you 'good enough'," he said. "I suppose you eat soup from a can, too." He nudged Kagami aside, turned on the faucet and scrubbed his hands nearly red.
"Er, yes?" said Kagami, caught slightly by surprise.
Tendou made another animal sound of rage, and began to thump pans around. Kagami kept a straight face. "Are you going to make the type of chicken where you put it in a pan with condensed cream of mushroom soup and rice?" he said. "I like that a lot! I used to make it for Ryou and me all the time!"
The glare Tendou sent him made him take an involuntary step back, lifting his hands in front of him.
Tendou wrenched the faucet on, and water sprayed full force into a pot. He banged it onto the stove with vigor, paused, took a deep breath, and then let it out again. The next pan was placed on the stove with exquisite care, and Tendou turned the gas on beneath them. Kagami turned the water back on and began stacking dishes neatly as he rinsed them. He watched Tendou from the corner of his eye. Tendou had a brick of cheese out and was grating it with quick, expert movements.
Tendou said, "Food is important. You need to take it seriously."
Kagami poured detergent into the sink as it filled, and rolled his eyes. "I work in a restaurant, Tendou."
Tendou said, "Huh," and then, "Surely you've been to restaurants where they didn't take food seriously."
Kagami thought about it for a second and realized that Tendou had a point. "Like that one awful Italian place in the new river district?" he said. His father had taken him there once, and they had shared one of their brief moments of understanding over poking the ravioli with helpless, horrified fascination that anything so expensive could taste so mediocre. To make things worse, the entire restaurant had been filled with trendy young professionals eating with every appearance of enjoyment. It was enough to make you believe in pod people.
Tendou snorted. "That's not Italian," he said.
"Well, there was tomato sauce and pasta," said Kagami practically, "and a candle stuck in a wine bottle with wax drips all down it. So it was supposed to be Italian, right?"
"Their chef," said Tendou darkly, "learned to make ravioli out of a book. And I know for a fact their sauce base comes in a can."
"Has anybody ever told you that you're a little weird about food?" said Kagami. He rolled up his sleeves and began to scrub the plates, one after the other, leaving them in a wet shining pile in the other sink.
"Food is important," repeated Tendou, measuring out the other ingredients.
Something in the way he said it made Kagami pause in his scrubbing and look at Tendou. "You know, I've been wondering this for a while," he said. "When did you learn to cook?"
"I don't know," said Tendou, beginning to beat something in a bowl.
"Huh?" said Kagami, staring at him.
"My first memory is of cooking," said Tendou, scattering handfuls of cheese into the sauce. "We were making pancakes, and I was dropping blueberries into the batter."
"What, with your grandmother?" said Kagami.
"No," said Tendou, staring into the bowl and stirring the mix like it was the only thing in the universe. "With my parents."
Kagami was silent for a moment. Tendou never talked about his parents, even though Kagami could quote fifteen different proverbs from Tendou's grandmother from memory. He knew from what little information ZECT had on file that his parents had died when he was very young, but Tendou always seemed to have sprung fully formed from someone's forehead. "My mother used to let me help her a lot, too," he said, keeping his voice as light as he could. "Although I was always dropping things."
the terrible zombie lurches back to the grave. man, I slept for four hours this afternoon and I still want to sleep moar. >_>