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After a day of training, it was always nice to return to Urokodaki’s little hut, where a warm meal always greeted them. Tonight they were having miso soup.
Urokodaki’s three students eagerly huddle around the dinner table conversing with one another. At least, Sabito and Makomo are. Giyuu is spilling more soup than he’s consuming; bits of tofu stick to the corners of his shiny, soup-covered mouth and cheeks.
“Eat slowly, Giyuu.” Urokodaki gently scolds the boy.
Giyuu peeks over his bowl to look at their teacher. He meekly places the bowl down to get a look at himself. Most of his spilled soup he can feel on his face, with the rest having landed onto the collar of his haori, staining the fabric an even darker shade of red. Embarrassed, he looks around the table in search of a napkin.
“You can have mine, Giyuu.” Makomo says as she holds the napkin out for him. He shyly smiles, cheeks still ablaze, before taking it and wiping his face.
Sabito chuckles at the sight. “This reminds me of a dream I had where I was kissing y-“ Sabito cut himself off, mouth hanging open, lips still formed around the word that he almost let slip out.
Everything comes to a sudden stop. Giyuu has finished wiping his face and looks at Sabito with big wide eyes. Makomo seems frozen, she has her bowl raised halfway to her parted lips as she stares at him in shock. Even from behind his tengu mask, Sabito could tell Urokodaki was staring him down.
The warm, almost domestic atmosphere that envelopes them evaporates in an instant. Left in its wake is something disquiet, a little unnerving, palpable even.
After a socially unacceptable amount of time, Sabito continues.
“…A girl..”
Makomo lets out a chortle. “Uh-huh, good save.” She breaths between her laughter, sarcasm dripping from each word. The ever so oblivious Giyuu only tilts his head.
“Really? What was she like?” Giyuu asks excitedly while Makomo hides her snicker behind her hand.
“Maybe we can find her for you!” Giyuu happily exclaims. He looks at Sabito expectantly, waiting for him to describe the literal “ girl ” of his dreams.
“She uh…* ahem * she had…black hair and…blue eyes..” He clears his throat before continuing.“...And she was pretty and tall and-“
“And totally not Giyuu.” Makomo pipes in. Sabito shoots her a glare from across the table.
‘Don’t let Giyuu know, please, he can’t find out like this .’ Sabito doesn’t think he’d ever live this moment down, the only thing that could make it worse is if Giyuu got on him as well.
Giyuu is unaffected. Whether he didn’t hear Makomo or simply chose not to comment, Sabito doesn’t know.
“So you like girls with black hair and blue eyes?” Giyuu taps his chin with his forefinger, seemingly in deep thought. “She shouldn't be too hard to find! I’ll keep my eye out for someone like that next time we go into town!”
Maybe it’s his imagination but he swears something flickers in Giyuu’s eyes. Despite the tone he used, his eyes seem…sad. Sabito isn’t sure how to feel.
Giyuu resumes eating as if unaffected by the atmosphere of the room.
Sabito sees Makomo press her hands to her face, trying—and failing—to muffle her laughter.
Urokodaki-san shakes his head and lets out the faintest of sighs.
Embarrassed beyond belief and with red blazing cheeks, Sabito finishes the rest of his soup.
.
.
.
Face planting into his futon later that night he thinks shamefully, ‘They’ll never let me live this down .’