Chapter Text
September 2, 20XX-that-is-definitely-2017, 9:30pm. Leblanc.
It's a quiet night. When isn't it, at Leblanc? A girl with a high ponytail and glasses sat at the counter with a crossword puzzle to her right and a video of a gymnastics routine to her left. Between them laid the last remnant of a mostly-finished plate of curry.
A single hard swallow. A question bubbled up. “... I know this is going to sound weird, Sakura-san, but can I use your kitchen after you close up for the night?” she asks, managing – with effort – to meet his gaze.
“... You know the next thing I'm gonna' ask is 'why,' right? It's not like there's a magical property to my kitchen that made all the curry and coffee that guy made in it any better,” came Sojiro's gruff rumble of an answer... though there was just a hint of genuine intrigue underneath.
“Huh? Oh, no – it's not anything like that,” Sumire answered, shaking her head. “This... is actually about Futaba-senpai. I mean, it's also about me. But it's about Futaba-senpai. I can tell she's been eating better, and it's not that I think she ate poorly while she was on her trip or anything! But I kind of get the sense that if you leave her to her own devices she forgets to eat, and eats only unmodified instant junk.”
Sojiro squinted a little at Sumire, as if to say, 'Continue,' without actually saying it.
Sumire did just that. “... I used to cook a lot, but to tell you the truth, even though it's been most of a year – er, most of two years,” careful, Sumire, don't weird out your friends' surrogate dad by fixating on burying Maruki's Palace and not your sister's death, that's gonna create a bunch of weird timeline questions, “I feel like I don't quite have the skills back, and summer gymnastics kept me so busy that I started eating a bunch of instant junk. What I want to do is make something for Futaba-senpai that wouldn't take much longer than instant ramen or instant yakisoba, but starts with that as a base.”
“So it's about proving to yourself you can do it, and helping Futaba find ways to make herself better food without just shouting 'curry' at me whenever she leaves her room, huh.” Sojiro smiled, despite himself. “Well, I'm not gonna' say no to that... but I need to make sure you know what you're doing around the kitchen, too. You can stay, but I'll be watching you, and I want you to tell me what you're doing.”
Sumire thought back to her first interaction with 'that guy' all those months ago. … Despite the difference in age, he wasn't that different from Sojiro in some ways, was he? And with that in mind... “Is that a deal, then?”
Sojiro let out a low laugh. “It's a deal,” he said. “Let me close up. Futaba likes to take her meals late on Saturdays, anyway.”
Sumire popped open a packet of instant ramen. “I think for this one I'm going to just use the packet... I know we could do better in here, but I don't want to overwhelm her with too many extra steps in case she decides she does want to do this for herself.” After a momentary pause, she admitted, “... I'm also not feeling confident about putting together an interesting bouillon mix or anything.”
“Probably smart, for now,” Sojiro agreed. “So what's your unique spin on this? If it's not the bouillon, what are you doing to make it not just a packet of instant ramen?”
“Well – Futaba doesn't get out much and doesn't have a ton of variety in her diet, so her vitamin intake is probably horrible,” Sumire answered, without too much excitement in the thought. It's hard to see someone you care about not taking care of themselves, after all. “So sliced green onions are a good first step. They fit the flavor profile, and they'll provide Vitamins A, C, and K. For myself I usually aim for a more B-centered micronutrient profile because I need the energy, but she doesn't do as much so that's not as important. … I'll pay you back for the ingredients, don't worry.” She opened the refrigerator, snagging some green onions and setting to chopping them.
Sojiro's eyes widened slightly. Sumire kept going, of course. “She's started growing again now that she's eating better, and she's got more developed muscles than she did last year, even if she's not really doing anything with them. So protein's essential. I was thinking one egg, but honestly, two might be best – unless she stopped in and had curry for lunch...” The muscle memory was there, at least; Sumire was chopping vegetables with surprising speed.
Sojiro was so transfixed he forgot to answer the implicit question for a few seconds, and stumbled over himself to do so once he realized it was there. “She was talking about needing to catch up with some game event she was gone for for most of her trip, so she hasn't left her room all day,” he answered.
“Okay, two eggs it is. We're going to want some fiber – my go-to is grated apple but that's really not appropriate here. I'm thinking we boil some broccoli in the water before we put the noodles in. I get that we're going a little far from the ramen-to-yakisoba range of food, but it's a step that doesn't really add any extra time and it'll still taste good... probably.” Sumire stared into the pot of boiling water for a few moments. “The last time I made something for someone else it kinda just washed out into generic curry flavor everywhere.”
Picking herself up and dusting herself off, Sumire waved off that line of thought before it got too oppressive. “Anyway! Zinc is really important, especially if you've been taking poor care of yourself for a long time, and again, more fiber can't hurt. I think we'll top with sesame seeds. Plus there's the flavor packet.” After a little thought, she finished, “I think more than this would be an overwhelming amount of stuff to add. For Futaba-senpai, even the green onions have me a bit worried.”
Sojiro's posture shifted, and he reached up to his glasses, giving them a quick, subtle adjustment with both hands. “... If she likes it, I'll keep some chopped and ready to go,” he answered, before swallowing. “It's interesting to hear you talk about food like this, Yoshizawa. I think if you tell Futaba everything you just told me, it'll...” He trailed off, eventually picking up with, “I think she'll be real happy to hear it. She might start crying, though. Watch out for that one.”
Now chopping broccoli into florets, Sumire glanced over. “... Did I say something wrong, Sakura-san? You're kind of... it's not tense, it's...”
Silence reigned for several seconds. Well, save for the sound of a broccoli crown being turned to florets, of course.
… No sense in hiding something good, though, Sojiro thought to himself. “... Her mother's approach to cooking was a lot like yours,” came the answer, eventually. “For her it was more about food science than just the nutrient profile, but it's... easy to see your style matching hers when you reach her age, if this is the way you're thinking about it now. So I'll give you one of the insights she gave me.”
Sumire reflexively moved aside to let Sojiro show his work – but Sojiro shook his head. “No, no, keep doing what you're doing. I think this one has to be all you. But the secret – and why the other curry you mentioned didn't work out, would be my guess – is in the timing. There's a best time in the process for every spice, every ingredient. The difference between fresh and dried is important, too; I get that someone on a high school athlete's schedule can't always spare the time to grind everything in a mortar and pestle, but planning around the differences between freshly chopped garlic and year-old garlic powder is going to give everything a big boost.”
As Sumire put the noodles in to boil, she gave Sojiro a small, genuine smile. “I appreciate that. I know it's asking a lot, but... do you have details on that written down somewhere, or know what Futaba-senpai's mother might have read to arrive at some of this? I'd like to work at this, too.”
Sojiro nodded, slowly. “I can get you that. Come around again in a week or so – and hey, watch that burner! Sheesh, you kids...” Something finally clicked, and he thought to ask at last, “... Why are all of that kid's friends 'senpai' to you, anyway?”
“... it's a long story,” Sumire answered, as she kept the metaphorical (and nearly literal) plates spinning for her admittedly-kind-of-simple dish. “I think I'll have an easier time focusing if I don't explain it.”
"Fair enough," came the answer, as Sumire kept at it.
With Sumire reasonably confident she'd at least earned Sojiro's trust in this field, and Sojiro likewise confident Sumire would both make something edible and avoid burning down Leblanc, Sojiro let her finish up in relative silence.