59 | ic: MAILBOX | holly heights

[ Even Makoto's got weird ideas about him?? About them?? That's it, he's out, time to change his name and skip town for real this time. There are probably more mortifying things, sure, but right now that seems pretty damn bad. —Not that it's necessarily because it's Kaede. It's the principle of the matter. That's all...

Whatever. It's all hypothetical, and a route that his mind will decidedly not be taking, thank you very much. ]

... Okay. [ He trails behind her after a moment, peers around the house a bit distractedly. It looks a little different now that it's not hosting a party. Like it should seem bigger, logically speaking, but instead it just seems smaller. Then again, Kaede lives in a fuller home than he does— maybe it's just that. ]

Did you seriously think that I dyed my hair or something?

[ Stuck on that. Come on... ]

[ She laughs lightly as she takes a plate and begins to set food onto it. She is mindful of the fact that his appetite may not be back to normal, so she portions out an amount she hopes is reasonable and not too daunting for Gokudera's stomach. When she gives the plate to him, he will realize that it is steak stir fry (except with soba noodles instead of linguine). ]

Careful, the food is still pretty hot. And no, I did not think it was dyed. It doesn't mean that it is exactly a normal color by society's standards. What would you like to drink, and chopsticks, or a fork?

Blame my genetics, then. [ Though it'd probably be a good color to have if he'd wanted to go for something bright (no bleaching necessary!), he isn't quite that flashy. Not yet, anyway.

—Shit, though, the food looks good. He's impressed. At at the audible growl that embarrassingly escapes before he can help it, his stomach seems impressed too. ]

Uh, water, and either's fine. —Did you make this? By yourself?

[ For his ego, she will pretend she did not hear his stomach. Once she has set her own small portion (don't judge her for a second helping, it's ridiculously good), she grabs two sets of chopsticks and moves to the kotatsu because gosh darnit it is cold and the kotatsu is so nice to have. One more trip produces two glasses of water, one for the each of them as she sits to eat. ]

I did not, as much as I would love to take credit for it. Rin cooked tonight, actually. It tastes even better than it looks.

Edited (omg rin didn't choke damnit phone) 2015-01-19 05:33 (UTC)

[ Gokudera settles down at the kotatsu as well, tugs the mask off (sorry for the germs— sacrifices must be made for dinner!) and goes for the chopsticks— which he practically fumbles at Kaede's answer. ]

Hah?! That guy? Seriously? [ Picks up a piece of meat skeptically... narrows his eyes. Takes a small bite. ] That'll make me lose my appetite.

[ He says as he proceeds to eat more of it. It's not like it's any good, tch... I'm just hungry! ]

Do you take turns...?

Edited 2015-01-21 03:35 (UTC)

[ That plate sure is being polished pretty quickly. Were you that hungry, Gokudera, or was the food that good? ]

We don't really take turns so much as we discuss what we may want to eat that night and then whoever wants to lead the charge does so. Rin wanted to do steak and my dad was in the mood for something similar to fried rice, so we settled on this.

[ She finishes off half of her bowl before she speaks up again. ] You're welcome to more if you'd like. I wasn't sure how much of your appetite is back.

[ It's definitely not that the food's good, hmph... But he shakes his head, nah; if he knows what's best for him, he'd better slow down with what he's got. The absolute last thing he needs is to embarrass himself getting sick at Kaede's place... especially where Rin might be around to see. Actually, this place has the highest concentration and probability of awkward encounters— the thought makes him frown at his noodles slightly. Or maybe it's just his stomach.

Whatever. ]

I'd be surprised if your old man wanted anything other than fried rice... [ A bit absently, because now that he thinks about it, there isn't anything not weird about this entire episode, from their conversation via text right up until this moment. There isn't anything not weird about Kaede, probably. That's probably it, he's just thrown off by this whole thing, the favors, his unexpected reception to them, their friendship. Who the hell gets existential about friendship this easily? It's not like he didn't have friends back home. They were just comrades before that, before all else. Isn't that his excuse about Kaede, too? He lowers the chopsticks for a second, takes a slow breath as subtly as he can. Maybe the walk tired him out more than he expected, or maybe he's just being a fucking idiot. Pull yourself together, Gokudera Hayato. Get it goddamn together.

Tentatively, he takes a drink of water, fumbles a bit for something normal to say, something that doesn't let on that he's feeling really fucking out of place. ]

Though I guess that makes sense if you have similar schedules. [ Their dinner pattern, he means. ] Both of us work at my place, so...

[ ... Sometime later, after a decent amount of mildly to moderately awkward conversation and tentative second helpings of Rin's stirfry after all, once Kaede's eventually stepped out of the room for a moment, maybe to get his promised cake, Gokudera will start to feel like he can't fight off the urge to lay his head on the crook of his elbow on the tabletop any longer. Just for a second, it'll just be a second, because Kaede will be back soon and it'd be embarrassing to fall asleep like a loser and have her catch him, he'd never live it down... But the kotatsu's warm — his face feels hot and he's not sure if it's from that or because he's still not feeling well or because... tch, nevermind!!, it can't be anything else — and even Tatsuma's come over to sit nearby; lazily Gokudera reaches out with his free hand to scratch at the dog's soft, white ears. His eyes are heavy now and Tatsuma still reminds him of Yamamoto, of Namimori — home — and somehow in this moment, just this once, it doesn't make him sad anymore to think about the distance. It hurts but it's a dull ache, and he'd go back in an instant but he knows— no, feels now that he'd be giving up something, something that his friends would be proud of him for (showing weakness, opening up), something that'll make him proud to return one day, something that makes him even — really... — sigh in something approaching contentment before he drops off to sleep. Ah... shit, embar...rassing... — Or maybe it's all just the flu. ]

ic: MAILBOX | holly heights

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sorry this took long and also got weird fast, haha

casually makes this canon (and then we can handwave, etc.)