halfemptyglasses: partial picture of Mirai's face with her name below (Default)
Kuriyama Mirai ([personal profile] halfemptyglasses) wrote2014-11-28 09:49 pm

Study Session

"Oh, good evening, Autor-senpai," Mirai greets when she opens the door to her sparse room. "I'm sorry there's not much."

The plush bed sits unmade, the comforter piled on the end. A small stack of books and papers wait on the low table that serves as her desk next to a few canned juices. Living on the fund for minors provides the necessities but not much else. Still, Mirai can't complain.

"We'll pretty much have to work from the floor," she says, padding over there with stocking feet. "Ah, and please help yourself to something to drink."

[personal profile] herr_bookman 2014-11-29 07:16 am (UTC)(link)
"Yes, you did," Autor says, nodding again. Then he sits up a little, holding up a hand. "Oh, no, we don't have to. If we don't want to, that is. I brought dinner."

[personal profile] herr_bookman 2014-11-29 07:21 am (UTC)(link)
And Autor knows exactly what she means, and tries to keep his consternation off of his face. He kicks himself for forgetting that she spent most of her time with the Inami clan in her room. "I'm still glad to see you downstairs," he says quietly.

Autor pulls his sylladex out of his pocket. "Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day, or gluttoning on all, or all away,*" he says to his journal, and out pops his food bag.

The boy rummages around for a while, and then pulls out two large bowls with lids, which he pops off to reveal the homemade udon noodles with tofu and baby spinach, garnished with grated ginger. Steam rises from the food, and scallions and red pepper flakes float in the dark brown miso broth. He sets the bowls on the table, and holds two pairs of chopsticks in his other hand.

*Shakespeare, Sonnet 75
Edited 2014-11-29 07:23 (UTC)
herr_bookman: (embarassed)

[personal profile] herr_bookman 2014-11-29 07:28 am (UTC)(link)
Autor nods, and sets her chopsticks down next to her bowl. Making the noodles proved more difficult than he thought it would be, given that Hannibal Lecter stopped by, but Autor isn't about to tell her that.

"Yes," he says shyly, ducking. "I hope it suits. I wasn't sure what to top it with, so I asked Bar."
herr_bookman: (embarassed)

[personal profile] herr_bookman 2014-11-29 07:37 am (UTC)(link)
"Neither did I," Autor admits, and warmth floods his cheeks. "But I had the opportunity to make it, so I took that and ran, I suppose."

He sips his remaining peach juice, wondering if she'll approve of his efforts. His very friendly efforts. His not crush-like at all efforts. Friends can make each other dinner and eat it in their rooms together. Sure.
herr_bookman: (lean)

[personal profile] herr_bookman 2014-11-29 07:41 am (UTC)(link)
Autor's shoulders relax. "You do?" he asks, easing into a smile. "I'm so glad."

He sips his broth, and licks his lips, surprised. Autor considered using the milder shiromiso, but he's glad he sprung for the dark, rich awasemiso. The salty, earthy taste is something he's never experienced before, and he absolutely plans to make more recipes with it--especially since Miss Kuriyama seems to approve.

"Do you often have miso, then? I'd never heard of it before this. Or tofu. Or udon."

[personal profile] herr_bookman 2014-11-29 07:50 am (UTC)(link)
Autor doesn't react in the way she might expect. He nods, listening to what she has to say, and takes a bite of his noodles. He's clearly practiced with chopsticks enough to get the food to his mouth, but no more than that.

"Oh, that makes sense," the boy says. "By the way, I brought a third bowl of udon if you finish the first one--and, well, if you liked it enough to finish the first one and want a second."
herr_bookman: (lean)

[personal profile] herr_bookman 2014-11-29 07:53 am (UTC)(link)
Autor chuckles, noshing on his noodles. "Just three bowls. Oh, yeah, and dessert."

Friends make each other dessert, right?

"How are your practice sessions with Tahno-san coming along?"

[personal profile] herr_bookman 2014-11-29 07:57 am (UTC)(link)
"Well, I didn't make it this time--I picked it up from Bar, but maybe next time I will," Autor admits, sipping his delicious broth. He likes that better than the noodles, which are thick and heavy.

"Ah, I see," he says, nodding. "Do you know when you'll be testing for your license?"

[personal profile] herr_bookman 2014-11-29 08:01 am (UTC)(link)
Autor rests his chin on his scarred knuckles and his chopsticks in his bowl. "Unfortunately--and this is stating the obvious--you won't know what will happen in your life there until you go live it. I'm sorry if not knowing worries you," Autor murmurs. "And I don't blame you at all; I'm... sort of the same way. I went home less than twenty five times in my almost two years here."

[personal profile] herr_bookman 2014-11-29 08:09 am (UTC)(link)
"Well, I was Bound--twice!--for a great deal of time, too," Autor says, taking another bite of his spinach. "But yes, thereabouts. I'd spend enough time at home to get done what I needed to do, and then come haring back to the bar."

The truth is, Autor spent so long reliving the same day that he was ready to die due to lack of variety, and didn't want to go back home once he found the bar. Thankfully, time and the Story started again for him, and he aged properly.

"So I don't blame you for wanting to stay and try to figure things out, or even just rest for a while, or whatever you wanted to do."

[personal profile] herr_bookman 2014-11-29 08:27 am (UTC)(link)
"That tends to happen when you're spoiled for choice, yeah," Autor murmurs sympathetically, having been there before. He carefully plucks up a cube of tofu and pops it into his mouth. "What do you like doing? You like tending bonsai, and eating apricots, and writing. Is there anything else? Do you want to learn anything? The library is fantastic for that, and you can ask Bar anything."
Edited 2014-11-29 08:27 (UTC)

[personal profile] herr_bookman 2014-11-29 08:35 am (UTC)(link)
"This is one, kind of," Autor says, setting his chopsticks down. "I've always thought of my time in Milliways as a completely separate life, where I go flying and deal with magic and cook udon. Then there's the old life at home, with work. It's not as glamorous, but it needs done, and there will be opportunities there that I'd be a fool to pass up."

He tilts his head, murmuring softly, in the tones of one who has considered the same for himself, "I mean, I suppose you could never go back."

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