Seated at the counter. Looking over a newspaper. He'd wondered if Atsuhide was going to cook for him as well, but wasn't certain; it seemed he was waiting him out.
When he sets down the bowl of rice, he clears his throat. Tries not to think about what the mentaiko means. ]
You're the only dog around here.
[ He lifts his chopsticks, dinging them off the side of the bowl. Then he notices the discoloration of Atsuhide's hand and he feels his heart lurch. ]
He bit me, and I bit him. Intent and bloodletting gets you pretty far here with stuff like that, turns out. He has a matching mark on his dead wrist.
[ Plating, plating. Soup should be done in a moment. ]
What's so strange about it? Shouldn't it make sense?
[ He's his right-hand man, after all.
Atsuhide puts the salmon down, soup ladled out into a bowl shortly thereafter. He leans against the counter between the sink and stove, a few paces away from Takakage. Sips at the miso, warming him from the inside out. Keeps a careful, watchful eye on Takakage. ]
Actually. It does make sense that Atsuhide and Ko would have dedicated themselves to one another.
But part of him doesn't want it to. ]
I simply mean the mysticism of it. We didn't exactly have magical bloodletting spells back in Fukuoka.
[ Good save.
He eats a little more of the rice with mentaiko — dammit, it's good — and says a little prayer on the inside. ]
Now, tell me. How is it that you pass the time here? Ko-sama is busy with school as I understand it, but I do hope you're not just mooching off of his ... Lore.
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no subject
Seated at the counter. Looking over a newspaper. He'd wondered if Atsuhide was going to cook for him as well, but wasn't certain; it seemed he was waiting him out.
When he sets down the bowl of rice, he clears his throat. Tries not to think about what the mentaiko means. ]
You're the only dog around here.
[ He lifts his chopsticks, dinging them off the side of the bowl. Then he notices the discoloration of Atsuhide's hand and he feels his heart lurch. ]
... Why is your hand dead as well?
no subject
[ He snorts a laugh, sardonic. When Takakage comments on the hand, he hesitates.
He holds it aloft. The faintly-glowing bite is there, stark against the deadening flesh. ]
Ko and I dedicated ourselves to one another. This is the bond mark.
[ And then he goes back to plating the salmon. ]
no subject
[ He swallows thickly, watching Atsuhide just go back to breakfast. What does it mean for the two of them?
What does it mean for him and Ko?
They'd slept together in the same room last night, so are they really ...
Together?
Now?
Ko-sama can do what he wants. This much is true.
But that doesn't erase the strange sense of jealousy he feels.
He moves his chopsticks to the rice, not feeling very hungry, but lifting a small scoop of rice to his mouth either way. He chews, swallows. ]
I suppose this place really is full of strange things.
no subject
[ Plating, plating. Soup should be done in a moment. ]
What's so strange about it? Shouldn't it make sense?
[ He's his right-hand man, after all.
Atsuhide puts the salmon down, soup ladled out into a bowl shortly thereafter. He leans against the counter between the sink and stove, a few paces away from Takakage. Sips at the miso, warming him from the inside out. Keeps a careful, watchful eye on Takakage. ]
no subject
Actually. It does make sense that Atsuhide and Ko would have dedicated themselves to one another.
But part of him doesn't want it to. ]
I simply mean the mysticism of it. We didn't exactly have magical bloodletting spells back in Fukuoka.
[ Good save.
He eats a little more of the rice with mentaiko — dammit, it's good — and says a little prayer on the inside. ]
Now, tell me. How is it that you pass the time here? Ko-sama is busy with school as I understand it, but I do hope you're not just mooching off of his ... Lore.