rekindleme | [Closed] Operation: Cheer up Junpei and Avoid Stomach Ulcers

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[Closed] Operation: Cheer up Junpei and Avoid Stomach Ulcers

Who: Junpei Iori, Fuuka Yamagishi, Shinjiro Aragaki, Akihiko Sanada, any other purse owners...?

Where: District 1: Convenience Store and Shirijo/Akihiko's Apartment.

When: November 22th, afternoon and evening

Summary: After finally finding out Junpei's been living on noodle cups since the festival and realizing it's a certain bad anniversary for him, Fuuka offers to cook him dinner. Hilarity and Shinjiro saving the day (and Junpei's stomach) ensues.

Warnings: Possible swearing, angst and bad food.

[Afternoon: District 1]

This timey wimey bullcrap messed with Junpei's head in a few different ways. Other than Fuuka, everyone else from his world came from different points in time. Which already made the 'hey Minako went into a coma and then died and she's already been cremated' discussion sort of unbearably uncomfortable. And then, because they'd been dragged into this world he'd lost half a year's time, from March to October.

Which meant that November 21st and 22nd crept up on him in a way that made his stomach turn, the realization only hitting him when he'd glanced at a calender earlier that week. As such, he'd kept to himself mostly, not wanting to bother his senpai, Fuuka or any of his new acquaintances with his ...well, depression, honestly.

He felt a bit cheated; didn't he deserve a bit more time to come to grips with what happened to him? To Minako? To Chidori? He'd just lost his best friend not even a month ago, and now he was getting a firm, punch to his gut (shot to his gut?) reminder of the death of his girlfriend. It was made all the worse when he was stupid and gave himself a paper cut the morning before while looking through the job section of the paper. It healed just a few seconds later, but that made it even worse in a way; an every day reminder of what he'd lost that day, of what he'd gained, and sometimes, in spite of himself, he wondered if he was worth that sacrifice.

Junpei'd promised Chidori he'd keep on living and wouldn't waste the second chance she gave him, but that didn't mean it ways easy to keep going. Not that he was going to do anything, of course! Just... it all weighed a bit heavily on him, is all.

But he had to go out; he'd run out of noodle cups, and he was starving. He'd only managed to pull himself out of bed, get showered and dressed sometime in mid afternoon, though his eyes showed he hadn't gotten any sleep. He'd managed to get to the convenience store and grab what he needed (though he was so goddamn SICK of cup noodles now), so now all he had to do was make it back without meeting up with anyone he knew.

Easy enough, right?

[Evening, Shinjiro and Akihiko's Apartment]

It was still a few hours from when Fuuka had told Junpei to come to her apartment for dinner; so why was she knocking at Shinjiro's and Akihiko's door with such a desperate look in her eyes?

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Fuuka had been quite busy that day, exploring Seong and doing a bit of shopping. Nothing too much, just a few fruits she had never heard of; one was a bright green and smelled like a flower. Another was shaped like a star, and she had been told it connected the fates of those who shared it. It seemed a bit intense for such a cute looking fruit, but she bought it for the novelty. A few other strange ones were mixed in her bag, as she headed for the front of the small shop.

'Perhaps we can get everyone together and have a tasting party...'

The idea that she had a group again made her happy, if not a bit guilty. She should be trying to find a way home, not buying fruits. But there was nothing to be done. Besides, getting together again might spark some new ideas on how to get home.

After her purchase, she stepped out of the store, nearly bumping into Junpei.

"Oh, I'm sorry--...Junpei?" An instant smile on her face, she touched his arm, an act that was becoming second nature to her now. Delighting in the warmth coming up her hand, her smile widened.

"Are you doing some shopping?"

When did he ever have good luck, right? He wasn't paying attention where he was going, and hearing her voice out of no where caused him to nearly trip, but catch himself--

"Fuuka?!"

His bag of groceries? not so lucky. His usual reflexes were definitely off today as the bag fell to the ground, and those half a dozen cup noodles fell; one breaking open, even.

"Son of a..."

Craaaap, she was the last person he wanted to show what he'd been eating for the last few weeks!

Edited 2013-11-29 03:35 (UTC)

Startled because he was startled, she could only watch as his bag of groceries spilled out on the ground. She bent down to help pick it up, realizing it was all noodle cups. Blinking, she gathered them up in her arms, and stood, looking at him confused.

"...I didn't know you liked noodles so much," she said a bit slowly, getting the feeling that this wasn't why he had bought so many noodles.

He'd managed to get about two of them before she'd gathered the rest up, leaving the broken one down on the side walk. He could hide his slight grimace at her words, both from implying he loved these noodles (nooo no noooo...) and that she was starting to clue in. Shit. Shiiiiiit...

"Ahahah, y-yeah! I, uh... can't get enough..."

He definitely wasn't on his game today, his body language made that much obvious; he couldn't hold his smile for long, and his dark ringed eyes couldn't meet Fuuka's own.

But damnit, he couldn't just grab the cups and run... But he didn't want to make Fuuka worry more than she already was...!

Stepping forward, she carefully placed the noodles back into his bag. Something was wrong. As the last one fell in, she searched his face, trying to catch his eye. He looked so tired, had he not been sleeping?

"Are you alright?" she asked softly, carefully touching his hand with hers, hoping it would give him some comfort. He looked like he needed some, for whatever it was.

"Fine!"

Spoken far too quickly, and his hand jerked away, though not intentionally. Damnit, damnit, Fuuka, don't do that. You always seemed like you could see through him when you did this...

"Just, y-y'know, uh, bad time of the year! Crappy weather and all that."

Semi-decent excuse? S-shit, maybe he shouldn't have mentioned the year though... he fiddled with his bag, though when she finally caught his eye...

He was never very good at hiding how he really felt.

Edited 2013-11-29 04:01 (UTC)

She shouldn't have felt hurt when he jerked away. but for a brief moment it showed on her face before she swallowed it back, focusing on her friend. He was hurting, for a reason she couldn't see.

'Bad time of year...?'

She frantically searched her memory for what had happened this time last year. It was November here, right? As she was thinking, she looked at him steadily.

"...please don't lie to me, Junpei," she said softly. They had been through too much for that.

Edited 2013-11-29 04:24 (UTC)

"..."

Shit. With a deep, uneasy sigh, Junpei hung his head, mumbling.

"It's like I said, just... a really shitty time of year. Maybe not just the weather, but, I mean..."

God, he should be over this. He shouldn't be worrying her, he hated worrying people. He'd rather people thought like Yukari and just mistook him for being an asshole than be like Fuuka and just...

"Plus, uh... kinda sick of noodle cups..."

Okay, THAT wasn't a lie at least.

As he spoke, it suddenly hit her; November 22. Her heart dropped to her stomach as she watched Junpei, hating herself for not remembering until now. Junpei had lost more than anyone had in the past year. Tightening her grip on her bag, she swallowed back her tears and desire to wrap him up in her arms. He didn't seem...like he wanted that.

Instead, she looked at the noodle cups, deciding to focus on that. At least for now. Frowning some she asked, "...why are you buying noodles?...are you low on...money?"

Looking at him again, her eyes widened some, remembering the festival. And everything he had bought for her. And Chulain.

"Junpei, is this because of the festival?"

Man. He just plain sucked as a person right now, didn't he? He glanced up when he heard the material of her bag crinkle in her hand's grip, and their eyes met for a moment. She'd figured it out.

And he hated himself for it. He should just go back to his apartment and sleep this off, and he turned away to do so, but her other question...

She'd asked him not to lie to her.

"...M-maybe a little, b-but it's alright, seriously! It's... just for a few more days still December hits; I needed new clothing and..."

And he wasn't expecting that massive pile of food at the festival, or how expensive those trinkets would be. He didn't regret it; it made Fuuka and the kid happy. That's at least one thing he did right.

"And... sorry, I'm just makin' this worse, huh? I-I'll uh, just..."

Just what? He didn't even know. He was half turned away like he wanted to start walking, but he didn't know if he could leave just yet either.

God, what was wrong with him?

Edited 2013-11-29 05:06 (UTC)

Fuuka's stomach twisted in knots as she watched and listened to him; he was trying so hard to protect himself, he was still trying to put up a wall. Show her he was going to be okay. She knew time would help him...but surely she could do something too.

"N-no you're not making it worse..." she said, but he was already turning to leave. Should she stop him? Despite her earlier decision to not touch him, she couldn't stop herself from reaching out and grasping his hand. Praying the warmth gave him some comfort she said the first thing that came to her.

"Let me cook for you! I know I'm n-not the greatest, but...but you deserve something better then noodles in a cup..."

Even her average meals were better then that...right?

Her grabbing his hand caught Junpei off guard; he'd been so focused on the sadness he felt inside, the warmth spreading through his core was unexpected when he was in such a state. A shaky sigh escaped him, not one of relief, but not one of sadness either; it was somewhere in between.

Fuuka's words surprised him next, and he turned back to face her, eyes wide.

"C-cook for me...?"

Now, he knew she'd had... trouble, cooking. Okay she wasn't that great at all but that was when she first started, apparently she and Minako had fun with the cooking club, and Shinjiro-senpai had given her a few lessons...

So on one hand, possible stomach pains could ensue. On the other, he was starting to believe that anything, even something educing stomach aches, would be better than another fucking cup of noodles. On the other OTHER hand, he really didn't want to bother her-

Well, no... that was a lie. Sort of. He didn't want to bother her, that was true, but he realised as he felt the warmth from her touch that he also really didn't want to be alone for the whole day. And the idea of someone actually cooking for him was such a nice, happy thought compared to what he'd been feeling all week. It felt so selfish, but...

"I... Are you sure you'd wanna do that?"

He hadn't let go of her hand yet, getting the courage to look her in the eye again. Was she really okay? She might stress herself out too...

Edited 2013-12-02 08:39 (UTC)

She wasn't sure how to react to HIS reaction; surely he wasn't nervous that she'd make him sick! Maybe. She wasn't sure if he had tried anything after she had improved. But then again, maybe he didn't think she would ever cook for him. Whatever the reason, she figured it was understandable either way.

"Yes. I really want to cook for you, Junpei. I could pay you back for everything you've done for me...in a small way, of course."

Smiling, she gently squeezed his hand, hoping he would accept her offer.

"N-no, cooking... it ain't small Fuuka, don't put that down. Spending money isn't the same as cooking for someone."

He didn't grow up with home cooked meals as a normal, regular thing. And she was smiling at him so earnestly, and...

Sighing, Junpei hung his head, knowing he couldn't say no. He didn't want to be alone. His hand gave a tentative squeeze back, and he looked back up with her a small, shaky smile.

"If you're sure it won't cause you trouble..."

Edited 2013-12-03 05:19 (UTC)

Blushing softly, she was glad to see him cheering up a little. Or at least not turning her down. The returned squeezed made her smile grow. Shaking her head, she replied, "No trouble! It would be a pleasure to cook for you!"

Giving him one more squeeze she let her hand drop from him, instantly wishing to hold it again. For the warmth, of course.

"I'll come over tonight with it, so don't get full before then," she tilted her head some, then dropped her eyes, smiling, "I'll go do some shopping now...so...be safe on your way home, alright?"

The warmth... had been nice. But he pulled his hand back, the faint smile still there. A pleasure to cook for him, huh?

Junpei couldn't help the rueful laugh about 'not getting full'.

"Dooon't worry, little chance of that, Fuuka."

Be safe. Did she mean... anything by that? He nodded slowly, realising a bit how much he had worried her if that was the case.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'll be in my apartment, okay? ...Thanks, Fuuka."

Another nod, a small wave, and Junpei turned, heading back to his apartment.

Well... spending the day with someone may be better for him, after all.

Edited 2013-11-22 04:53 (UTC)

After the meeting with Junpei, Fuuka had rushed back to the market, purchasing as much food as she could. But as she exited, she remembered--as if she could forget--that she still couldn't cook very well. Minako had helped a lot but Junpei deserved better then an average meal. Then, near panic, rushed to Shinjiro and Akihiko's apartment.

Knocking rapidly on the door, she rocked back and forth on her toes. Clutching the two grocery bags to her chest, she waited impatiently for an answer. Each moment she stood out there was a moment of Junpei being alone, and with a bag full of cheap noodles.

Though only for a few weeks, Shinjiro had done what he could back home to help Fuuka improve her cooking skills. When she first came to him, she was a wreck when it came to the simplest things, like boiling water and cutting vegetables. But she got a little better, even though Shinjiro was a strict teacher.

For some reason, he thinks of her today as he cleans a few dishes left from the previous night's meal. Just as he finishes, he hears someone at the door, and makes his way towards it. Hopefully it wasn't anyone like a salesman or similar.

"...Yamagishi?"

As soon as the door opened, Fuuka bowed respectfully to Shinjiro, careful not to spill her groceries.

"Senpai, please help me cook for Junpei!"

Straightening up she looked up at him with large eyes. He was her only hope! Hugging the bags tightly she tried to explain her predicament.

"Today is...is a bad day for Junpei, and ever since the festival he has only been eating cheap noodles because he spent all his money on me and a boy we met. But that isn't right, he deserves to eat something better, and, and, I want to cook him a g-good meal, b-but I'm...I'm still only average at best...s-so..."

By the end, she was near tears, fumbling over her words, just thinking about how she had let Junpei down. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and bowed again.

"...please help me, senpai."

A diet of nothing but cup noodles...no wonder the guy was ravenous at the meeting. Shinjiro sighs, mostly at hearing about Junpei's predicament, but steps out of the way and holds the door open for Fuuka. He'll pull some awkwardly positioned items off the top of the bags when she comes in, so that they don't fall.

Iori helping out a little kid and being nice to Fuuka at his own expense...it was a surprise. He didn't think he had it in him. But all of his friends are so different now. He's missed a lot after being hospitalized for almost half a year.

"Thank you," she says quietly, entering with a sniffle. She almost protested to him taking some of the food items out--two cans of soup and a bunch of bananas consequently--but decided to let it go. He was helping her after all.

Setting the bags on the kitchen counter, she sighs. Wiping her eyes, she straightened up and looked at Shinjiro.

"Alright! What should we cook?"

"Let's see what you have." Shinjiro needs to sort this food, as well as refrigerate what's perishable, like milk and cheeses. Fuuka's purchased a wide variety of ingredients, but most don't work well together at all. Phyllo dough, olives, chocolate syrup, blueberries, tomato sauce, rice...

Wait, maybe there is something here. He has a few ingredients to pull it together. He remembers a recipe he wanted to try back at the dorm called Stuffed Peppers. Fuuka's rice and tomato sauce along with some meat and fresh peppers that Shinjiro has in storage are the main ingredients. Heck, he can even make them a simple dessert; a little apple pie filling in phyllo dough cups shouldn't taste too bad.

"Wash the peppers under the sink." Time to get cracking on dinner.

Standing beside him as she helped him unpack, she realized she might not have picked the best ingredients. She had been kind of panicked when she had gone shopping, and grabbed whatever she could. Glancing at Shinji through the whole process, she tried to gauge his reaction. It was pointless though, his expression never seeming to change, besides a twitch here, or a wrinkled brow there.

So when he commanded her to wash the peppers, she was surprised. Had he really thought up a recipe without even looking at a book? In awe of him, she rushed to do as he asked, pushing up her sleeves.

There is no cookbook this time, unfortunately. He's going with his own instincts and general knowledge. But if it turns out right, he can write it down. The instruction keeps coming, but he's helping out as well, getting some ground sausage ready for cooking and checking the sauce ingredients for the spices that they contain.

"Your knife skills any better? When you're done, we need to cut off the tops of these peppers, and scoop out all the seeds."

Finished with the peppers she quickly dried her hands and looked over at Shijiro. Her knife skills had improved thanks to Minako...but suddenly the idea made her nervous. But she would never get better if she didn't keep practicing!

"I can do that," she said with a smile, turning back to the peppers, then promptly turning back around.

"...um...where do you keep your knives?

His look of stern determination softened. So far so good, but he can't let his guard down just yet. Shinjiro reaches into one of the drawers and presents the knife to her, handle face her so as to prevent injuries.

"When you're done with that, get some water boiling for the rice."

"Thank you~" she said as she carefully took the knife. She had cut herself enough to know how not to handle one at least. Holding the first pepper firmly, making sure her fingers were safe, Fuuka slowly sliced off it's top. As the knife hit the counter with a soft thunk, she let out the breath she had been holding.

The next four were just as easy, and pulling out the seeds was even easier. Rinsing them out a second time--just to be thorough--she lined them neatly on the counter. Now came the hard part; boiling. As she looked for a pot, she recalled how everyone always told her it was easy to boil water. But she still had visions of the water boiling over and sloshing all over her.

'Not today,' she thought, encouraging herself as she pulled out a large pot, 'Not today.'

Speed is not a worry at the moment. Everything will cook evenly at the end and be the right temperature when the dish is ready. No injuries is a good thing. He continues supervising the skillet while always checking on Fuuka quietly.

"...Sprinkle some salt in your water, it'll boil faster."

"Y-yes, sensei!" She chirped, almost feeling like she needed to salute. Grabbing the pot, she hurried to the sink to fill it up. Watching it fill, she wondered when it would be too full. Or not enough. And how would she know? A little over half way, she turned off the water, deciding that looked about right. She guessed. Should she be using cups? She probably should.

Carrying it carefully to the stove, she set it down, pleased that only a few drops sloshed over the side. Scanning for the salt, she picked it up and held it over the pot, just about to tip it over. How much was a sprinkle? Biting her lower lip, she remembered many past attempts of cooking where her meals had turned into dishes too salty to eat. Retracting her hand, she held the salt shaker to her chest.

"...how much should I put in...?" she asked, looked over at him, her eyes dropping to his skillet. He was already cooking...he was amazing.

"Shake it once into your hand, then sprinkle it into the water. The package has the ratios of water to rice that you need." He would need to continue to stress to Fuuka that food packaging and cookbooks were to food as manuals were to computers.

She could do this. "This is for Iori, right?" If she remembered that she was doing it for a friend, maybe she would think a little clearer.

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[Closed] Operation: Cheer up Junpei and Avoid Stomach Ulcers

[Afternoon: District 1]

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[Evening: Shinjiro and Akihiko's Apartment]

Re: [Evening: Shinjiro and Akihiko's Apartment]

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