[ tsuna doesn't waste time scurrying over, keeping a certain distance, but comfortable enough for both of them ( as well as getting to see it all ). this . . . was all rather odd, when he stopped to think about it. who would have thought he'd be making sushi with hibari kyouya, who d smack him upside the head with a tonfa for grouping around him. his thoughts, though, are put on pause, and he looks up with question in his eyes. ]
[Easier now that he'd prepped it before. Wasabi's "glued" upon each piece, the paste resembling dough, but green.]
You should help, then...
[He'll move the balls of rice to plates. The tuna (and its flavored paste, bonded to a single side) is moulded to each ball, like wraps.] Hold your hands out. [He's dropped the rice in Tsuna's palm, and pressed the tuna (paste and all) to shape its sides, and form its roll.]
[ or maybe they have— he just could never get it right, or even remember recipes that were more advanced than cup noodles.
tsuna does what he's told, though, holding both hands out and together, cupping the ball of rice that falls into his palms. following the tuna that's placed to the roll. oh—! it looked familiar now-! ]
[ he nods, giving another soft 'thank you', and taking the cup, lightly grasping with his fingers and holding it close to him. actually, when he thought about it— it was hard to keep track? how long has he been here already-? ]
Maybe . . . Two-? Three months? I think—
[ but. ]
You were still there, though— That's what's weird.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
d smack him upside the head with a tonfa for grouping around him. his thoughts, though, are put on pause, and he looks up with question in his eyes. ]
—Figured what out-?
no subject
[He's examined the strips for bones, re-slicing.]
No one's showed you?
[Easier now that he'd prepped it before. Wasabi's "glued" upon each piece, the paste resembling dough, but green.]
You should help, then...
[He'll move the balls of rice to plates. The tuna (and its flavored paste, bonded to a single side) is moulded to each ball, like wraps.] Hold your hands out. [He's dropped the rice in Tsuna's palm, and pressed the tuna (paste and all) to shape its sides, and form its roll.]
no subject
[ or maybe they have— he just could never get it right, or even remember recipes that were more advanced than cup noodles.
tsuna does what he's told, though, holding both hands out and together, cupping the ball of rice that falls into his palms. following the tuna that's placed to the roll. oh—! it looked familiar now-! ]
That's all—?
no subject
It's simple.
["Simple" was most things requiring skill. Unless it just... wasn't... in which case, he'd snap.
Hibari and failure were dangerous paired.]
You'll taste it, won't you?
["You'd better", says his tone and stare.]
no subject
[ no don't look at him like that ( meaning oh please do ) ]
A-ah— Definitely! I wouldn't— Not! H-hah—
no subject
He's waved him to eat, smile blooming, too wide. He'd set about making the tea, in that case.]
Black or green?
[He's moved to the pot he'd procured, holding the bags of his various leaves.]
no subject
[ that wasn't too hard-! ]
Um— Green-? Please?
[ and while he waits— ]
S-so— Hibari-san-! How long have you . . . Actually been away? From Namimori-?
no subject
I don't remember.
[There were no calendars. No way to tell. He'd tried, absolutely, losing count at some point as others did.]
8 months. [No, that can't be right.] No. Nine. [More. More than that. He shakes his head, uncertain.] 11, maybe.
[He's focused on that tea instead. Pushed it forward.]
Green, right?
[He's lowered his lids, expression thoughtful.]
What about you?
no subject
[ he nods, giving another soft 'thank you', and taking the cup, lightly grasping with his fingers and holding it close to him. actually, when he thought about it— it was hard to keep track? how long has he been here already-? ]
Maybe . . . Two-? Three months? I think—
[ but. ]
You were still there, though— That's what's weird.
no subject
I see.
[This again? He'd discussed it with Sasuke before; the possibilities of branching paths, splitting times, and different futures, but...
But then, Hibari wasn't—]
I'm not...
[Not his. Not "his" Hibari Kyoya.]
Who you remember, is all.
[Or, rather, just a little bit different.]
no subject
that wasn't alarming, ah— tsuna tries to pretend he didn't see it, quickly changing his path of attention. right. let's not mention that again!!
and— it wasn't as if they were strangers to time shenanigans! even then, hibari was still, you know . . . ]
You're still Hibari-san, though . . . That's what counts, right?
no subject
Your Hibari...
[He's heated inside, like the tea.]
I'll bite him to death.
[In time, he'd bite them all, he thinks. For now, the hitman "pouts", all frowns.]