[ And she goes back to eating normally too, mulling over the phrase— ryouri... ryou... Hmm. She does not actually know Japanese very well despite her parents speaking it at home. ]
Just something I remember someone saying to me. I was choking down food that was all burnt and disgusting! I could've died! I was being so stupid!
It's delicious! Of course it's delicious! I never get to eat home cooked meals, so I would die happy if I could eat this every day!
[ She probably would have died happy five minutes ago when she was busy scalding her mouth; the dying might have been the similarity that triggered the memory, she thinks? Because it definitely wasn't the person. ]
Anyways, there was no love in that memory! The cook was my neighbor I grew up with— he was like a spartan general, always ordering me around!
[Oh no, how sweet.... He can't help but grin even more brightly than usual to that, though the mention of Mafuyu never having someone cook for her is a little sad.]
I'm glad! Then how about I cook for you more often? I usually make something for a friend once a week, so I can start making a little extra and bring you leftovers.
[A guy ordering her around, huh? It could always be that he liked her.... but he isn't about to say that.]
He wouldn't have cooked it to make you choke, right? Was he really that bad of a guy?
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[ And she goes back to eating normally too, mulling over the phrase— ryouri... ryou... Hmm. She does not actually know Japanese very well despite her parents speaking it at home. ]
Just something I remember someone saying to me. I was choking down food that was all burnt and disgusting! I could've died! I was being so stupid!
no subject
Isn't choking down food someone made for you an act of love in itself?
[He can't imagine that she was close to dying, but it still gets another smile out of him.]
You didn't remember that because this food tastes bad, right? If it does, you can tell me.
no subject
[ She probably would have died happy five minutes ago when she was busy scalding her mouth; the dying might have been the similarity that triggered the memory, she thinks? Because it definitely wasn't the person. ]
Anyways, there was no love in that memory! The cook was my neighbor I grew up with— he was like a spartan general, always ordering me around!
no subject
I'm glad! Then how about I cook for you more often? I usually make something for a friend once a week, so I can start making a little extra and bring you leftovers.
[A guy ordering her around, huh? It could always be that he liked her.... but he isn't about to say that.]
He wouldn't have cooked it to make you choke, right? Was he really that bad of a guy?