Floor 1, Room 3

[jokey]

AKIRA

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[jokey]

Afraid?

[Did he look afraid? Well now he just looks offended. Afraid, his ass. He saunters right on over to Kurapika and stands with both hands on his hips. Would a coward stand like this?]

You need to get your eyes checked.

[He notices the bentos beside Akira. Bentos plural.]

Oh my god. You really are planning on poisoning me.

[revengier]

[ Yes, they would. At least, that's what the look Kurapika gives him seems to say. ]

Says the one with glasses.

[ Anyway.

He holds one of the bento boxes out to Akira. ]

If you're that worried, then you can sample from both. [ And right when Akira looks like he's about to reach for that bento... he pulls it back. ] Or not eat it at all. Whichever you prefer.

[jokey]

[Ah, right. The glasses. Akira's just gotten used to wearing them at this point, but his days of needing them for any practical purpose are over. As such, he slips them off the bridge of his nose and plunks them on Kurapika's face. See? Just as useless as Akira himself.

He reaches for the bento...]

...Hey. If you made it with me in mind, I want to try it.

[revengier]

[ His hands are full, so all Kurapika can do is scrunch up his nose at the glasses on his face.

Which are fake.

... ]

Fake glasses? There's something wrong with you.

[ But, ah... that bit of sincerity quickly cools him off, and he glances toward Akira. ]

Please do. I'd like to think I'm making some strides in the kitchen.

[ Inside is the usual fare—little apple slices cut like rabbits, hot dogs cut like octopi, and vegetables in various shape. And of course, rolled up egg with some rice. ]

[jokey]

[Akira snorts.]

Tell me something I don't know.

[He takes a seat beside Kurapika and cracks open the bento. It dawns on him that Kurapika put a lot of effort into making this... and he did it for him. Ah. Seeing the contents of the bento, Akira sits silently for a moment, sets it down, and fiddles with the ends of his bangs. Nervous habit.]

I'm surprised you'd dedicate yourself to something like cooking. What inspired the sudden interest?

[revengier]

[ A nervous habit, is it? Kurapika spots it a mile away, but he at least has the grace not to point it out.

Not yet. ]

The task we were assigned, for one. Yamato also brought up that he prepares bentos, and they sounded convenient enough that I asked him to help me make one.

[ Or, well, two. ]

I figured I'd make one for you as well. I wasn't exactly kind to you on that mission.

[jokey]

That's an understatement.

[You big jerk, but it's not as if Akira sounds the least bit mad. He isn't, honestly.

Picking up his chopsticks, he takes a bite of tamagoyaki first. Not bad for a first attempt. Not bad at all.]

...But I wasn't being much better. Sorry, Kurapika. I don't know what came over me.

[revengier]

Your immaturity.

[ He has no problem putting a label to it, if Akira won't.

But it's clear that Kurapika spent enough time making sure that what he put inside the bento is cooked well and has a flavor. It isn't bland, and it isn't overdone either.

Before even trying any of his own, he watches Akira eat. ]

How is it?

[jokey]

Harsh. Would it kill you to mince words just once?

[But he's right. Maybe his immaturity will suddenly go away when he reaches the ripe old age of eighteen?

Akira takes his time delivering his verdict on the quality of Kurapika's bento. Munch munch. Mmm. Munch munch munch.]

Pretty good, especially for a greenhorn. I haven't had a bento like this since I was a little kid.

[revengier]

[ Yes, it would. But Akira knows just how straightforward Kurapika is by now, doesn't he? ]

So you have them where you're from as well?

[ Interesting... ]

I'd never heard of them.

[ Which means he doesn't know how to use chopsticks either, so he takes out a fork instead. This is how you do this, surely. ]

[jokey]

Yup. You said Yamato taught you, yeah? We're both from Japan.

[No need to get into the particulars of their Japans technically being different Japans. Akira notes the fork and hrms.]

Most people carry bento for lunch to school or work. Usually, making someone else a bento like this is...

[uh]

...A nice thing to do. Very nice. Thanks.

[revengier]

[ Japan, huh? Their names are similar in the way the vowels and consonants shape the sounds of their names, so it makes some level of sense.

...

He looks up from his bento and fixes Akira with a stare. ]

Say what you mean.

[ Or at least, don't trip over your words so easily. If Akira wants to sneak past Kurapika, he'll need to learn how to not fumble so badly. ]

[jokey]

[Akira leaaaans in nice and slow, voice dropping low...]

You really want to know...?

[revengier]

[ He doesn't match Akira's energy, no, but he doesn't back away either. He stares right into Akira's eyes, Akira's own face reflecting in the fake glasses that Kurapika has pushed up to sit atop his own head. ]

I wouldn't ask if I didn't.

[jokey]

[Akira leans back and holds up three fingers.]

There are three people you make bento for: yourself, your child, or the boy you have a crush on.

[Did Yamato tell him that part?]

[revengier]

[ Hell no, because he didn't tell Yamato why he wanted two (presumably). Trying not to flush, he immediately bats at Akira's hand. ]

...

[ Ugh, ugh, he doesn't know what to say. Looking for something to take the heat off of himself, Kurapika spears one of the octodogs and shoves it into Akira's mouth. ]

[jokey]

It's a lot to take in, I know. Ours is a refined and complex cultu—

[Oh. His mouth has been weenie'd. Munch munch munch...]

Anyway, why are you using a fork? You're supposed to eat bento with chopsticks.

[revengier]

[ He frowns at how quickly Akira recovers from that. Ugh. He should've flailed around, not immediately gone back to talking.

With a sigh, he waves around his fork. ]

...I don't know how to use them.

[ Do you really think he's going to come out here and look like an idiot for Akira's entertainment? No. ]

[jokey]

[Why does Akira perk up after hearing that?]

I can teach you.

[revengier]

[ And that's the million dollar question, isn't it? Although, Kurapika has a feeling why Akira perks up, and he bites back a sigh. ]

...Alright. Go ahead.

[jokey]

[yessssSSSSSSSSSSSS,]

It takes some practice, but once you get the hang of it, it's easy.

[Akira picks up his chopsticks and shows his hand to Kurapika.]

You hold them like this. Give it a try.

[revengier]

[ He did bring an extra pair, so... Kurapika takes those out and tries to mimic Akira's hand positioning. He's got it mostly, but it's still a little bit off. ]

[jokey]

Almost. If you hold it like that, your hand'll cramp.

[Pardon the reach around, but it's necessary to correct Kurapika's chopstick posture. Akira unwinds his arms from around Kurapika immediately after. Don't get mad!]

[revengier]

[ Oh.

He isn't mad, not at all, but he does tense. It's a more visceral kind of tensing up than when Akira showed him how to cut carrots, and it takes him a second or two longer than he'd like to relax. ]

Thanks. That's much better.

[ Despite everything, his hand really does feel more comfortable in this position. ]

[jokey]

[...Still tensing up like that, huh? No, it's a bit different this time. Different in a way Akira can feel better than he can describe, feeling that tension cling to him and affect him just the same. Even 'uncomfortable' doesn't quite describe it.]

Sure. I noticed you had that habit. Tensing your hands, I mean.