[He sits as instructed at the table, letting Dolph portion out the steak and rice as he pleases. It's probably the first time this night that he starts to feel conscious of how out of place he seems in this fancy house, dressed in his old, weather-beaten coat and beanie.
[That's -- heavy, then. Shinjiro feels a little uncertain how to hold that, really, having meant this as a casual sort of gesture. The way a person drops off a thank you card.
Ultimately, he decides on just being upfront, as they usually are with each other.]
That's rough. For me...it was just a means of being more independent, at first. You can get by cheaper if you cook your own food rather than relying on takeout and conbini--er, convenience store stuff all the time. But I found I really liked doin' it, actually, so...I kept finding new things to try out.
[At least until he starting living on the street, anyway. But in a way, those couple years of not having access to any kind of kitchen easily made him appreciate getting a chance to come back to it even more -- especially with them being what he thought would be his last days alive. So it was a natural idea for a gift, to him, in a way that sharing the meal together isn't ... but strangely, he finds that he appreciates this opportunity, too. Laserhawk didn't need to ask him to stay, really. There's others he could've shared this meal with, after all.]
It's one of the first things I tried to learn when I got here. I wanted some independence and I wanted to have a skill that wasn't just . . . violence.
[ a faint smile. ]
Jean got me my first cookbooks. And after that, we would do it together.
Makes sense, lookin' for skills to build a life with.
[Sometimes, he feels unsure what to say, when Laserhawk tells him these things. For all the older man can relate to some things he's talked about, they come from opposite perspectives in a sense. He might never have had much, but he did have a life he was happy with, once. A best friend. A hobby. Small, personal dreams, even as little as having a fun summer vacation when school was out. Maybe some day he might have liked to travel, if he could save enough for it.
The fact that they were shattered irretrievably doesn't change that they existed. Shinjiro's quiet a moment.]
Don't think I've ever met Jean. He live here with you?
[He's taking a guess here. The man had mentioned an upcoming wedding, after all.]
[They haven't moved in together, then. Or maybe he's not the person Laserhawk's getting married to at all. Seems awkward to ask, so he brushes past it.]
Maybe I'll run into him sometime.
[A beat. He finally picks up a mouthful of rice and chews for a moment, then:]
If ... you like it, I could write up a recipe for you guys to make more together.
[please he'd die if he went around town bringing food to random people. he is already strugglebussing with (1) friend.]
I'll check it out sometime. And send you that recipe soon.
[And then, the dreaded awkward silence settles. He ends up just staring at his own plate, pushing around rice just for the sake of something to do with his hands, and to need more time to finish eating.]
[Not the silence itself, either; even with Aki, usually it's the other that does most of the talking, between them. It's stupider than that. He does not get up, even as he continues to look uncomfortable.]
I just -- ain't good at this.
[Even before his life blew up, he wasn't someone with a lot of friends.]
[...he really doesn't have much else to say, but he doesn't try to stall further on eating, at least. It's perhaps a more companionable silence, this time -- if perhaps slightly stilted yet.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Don't you think?
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Another beat of hesitation, then:]
Sure, yeah.
[Still going to just linger awkwardly in the doorway until he's instructed on where to go, though.]
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[ which he does promptly, setting it out and then unpacks the steak for them both, cutting it neatly into two portions. ]
The idea of eating alone doesn't sit well with me.
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The thought is quickly pushed aside, though.]
Yeah? Because of how things were at Eden, or...?
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Yeah. Food, drugs, all of it was just forced down. I was alone or I was experimented on.
It's with other people that I really . . . enjoyed food again.
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Ultimately, he decides on just being upfront, as they usually are with each other.]
That's rough. For me...it was just a means of being more independent, at first. You can get by cheaper if you cook your own food rather than relying on takeout and conbini--er, convenience store stuff all the time. But I found I really liked doin' it, actually, so...I kept finding new things to try out.
[At least until he starting living on the street, anyway. But in a way, those couple years of not having access to any kind of kitchen easily made him appreciate getting a chance to come back to it even more -- especially with them being what he thought would be his last days alive. So it was a natural idea for a gift, to him, in a way that sharing the meal together isn't ... but strangely, he finds that he appreciates this opportunity, too. Laserhawk didn't need to ask him to stay, really. There's others he could've shared this meal with, after all.]
no subject
It's one of the first things I tried to learn when I got here. I wanted some independence and I wanted to have a skill that wasn't just . . . violence.
[ a faint smile. ]
Jean got me my first cookbooks. And after that, we would do it together.
no subject
[Sometimes, he feels unsure what to say, when Laserhawk tells him these things. For all the older man can relate to some things he's talked about, they come from opposite perspectives in a sense. He might never have had much, but he did have a life he was happy with, once. A best friend. A hobby. Small, personal dreams, even as little as having a fun summer vacation when school was out. Maybe some day he might have liked to travel, if he could save enough for it.
The fact that they were shattered irretrievably doesn't change that they existed. Shinjiro's quiet a moment.]
Don't think I've ever met Jean. He live here with you?
[He's taking a guess here. The man had mentioned an upcoming wedding, after all.]
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Sometimes. He spends time here and at the farm.
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Maybe I'll run into him sometime.
[A beat. He finally picks up a mouthful of rice and chews for a moment, then:]
If ... you like it, I could write up a recipe for you guys to make more together.
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[ kinda like shinji, huh. ]
Sure. I'd like that.
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[please he'd die if he went around town bringing food to random people. he is already strugglebussing with (1) friend.]
I'll check it out sometime. And send you that recipe soon.
[And then, the dreaded awkward silence settles. He ends up just staring at his own plate, pushing around rice just for the sake of something to do with his hands, and to need more time to finish eating.]
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If you want to go, that's fine.
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[Not the silence itself, either; even with Aki, usually it's the other that does most of the talking, between them. It's stupider than that. He does not get up, even as he continues to look uncomfortable.]
I just -- ain't good at this.
[Even before his life blew up, he wasn't someone with a lot of friends.]
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Like I am?
You don't have to meet a standard. Why would I care?
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[He makes a faintly frustrated noise at the back of his throat, at failing to communicate his meaning a second time.]
I mean...wasn't exactly expecting you to ask me to stay in the first place.
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That's why I said it.
[ it didn't matter if it was rejected or whether shinji was dying to stay. in the end, does things according to his own intent and this matters. ]
no subject
Alright.
[...he really doesn't have much else to say, but he doesn't try to stall further on eating, at least. It's perhaps a more companionable silence, this time -- if perhaps slightly stilted yet.]
wrap!