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Shunsui Kyōraku was a horrible cook. He could cook to keep himself alive, but he preferred – and had the money – to eat out or order in. His family was one of nobility; he’d never had to cook for himself growing up and once he’d been sent away to the Academy the meals were prepared for him just as they were the other students. He’d learned how to cook in the battlefield, learned how to make small, nutrient-dense meals to provide energy while conserving resources, but had never gone further to learn how to cook more sophisticated meals.
Jūshirō Ukitake, on the other hand, could cook fairly well. Being the eldest of eight siblings had come with certain responsibilities, and cooking had been one of them. The Ukitake family was one of lower nobility, and could afford some servants, but the servants they’d had had taken care of the grounds and the estate – keeping up appearances while the more mundane tasks had been left to the older siblings. He quite enjoyed cooking, it was a therapeutic activity and he seemed to have a natural aptitude for it. When he’d become a captain the time he’d had to be able to cook his own meals had been reduced considerably, so he often found himself eating out with Kyōraku. He’d never had to teach anyone other than his siblings to cook, and had never really considered doing so.
That was, until Shunsui had approached him one afternoon and demanded that Jūshirō teach him how to cook an ‘outstanding meal that would help him to woo his precious Nanao-chan’.
“Why couldn’t you have chosen a simpler dish to start off with?” Jūshirō asked as he spread out the ingredients
“Sukiyaki and red bean jelly are not exactly complicated, Ukitake?”
“Do you even like red bean jelly?” Jūshirō asked.
“I…don’t hate it. It doesn’t matter – it’s one of Nanao-chan’s favourites so it needs to be made perfectly.”
Jūshirō smirked, there was apparently no point in trying to talk Shunsui out of making the perfect meal he’d imagined. He had no idea how exactly Shunsui had managed to talk Nanao into sharing dinner with him – a dinner made by him, nonetheless, but Shunsui was more than prepared to go the full nine yards to make the dinner special.
“Fine,” Jūshirō acquiesced, trying his hair back neatly, “but we need to start with the red bean jelly because that needs to sit for at least three hours to set properly.”
“Okay,” Shunsui agreed, and looked at Jūshirō expectantly.
Jūshirō’s expression was one of confusion. “Did you write down a recipe or something?” He asked.
“Nope. Don’t you know how to make it?”
Jūshirō sighed and rolled his eyes. “I mean; it’s been a while but I guess I remember.”
“Excellent,” Shunsui said, clapping his hands. “You get started and I’ll get the sake!”
“No, Kyōraku! You can’t cook when you’re drunk!”
Shunsui waved the comment away nonchalantly, “Nonsense Ukitake! Besides, there’s nothing wrong with having a drink or two. No one said anything about getting drunk.”
Jūshirō busied himself with preparing the water and the beans for boiling. Initially he’d told himself that he wasn’t going to cook the entire meal, but he was beginning to have his doubts.
An hour later, Jūshirō found himself instructing Shunsui about how to mash and strain the beans properly so that none of the bean skins got into the paste mixture.
“What do you do with the skins?” Shunsui asked.
“Throw them out,” Jūshirō said simply. “The composition of the skins would hinder the jelly from setting properly.”
Shunsui gave him an incredulous look, “So we just spent the last hour essentially removing the outer skin from beans?”
“That’s exactly what we did, yes.”
Shunsui let out an exaggerated sigh as he set the cotton cloth over the pot to allow the bean-water mixture to drain.
“Cooking is so tedious; why do you enjoy this?”
“Cooking red bean jelly is tedious,” Jūshirō corrected with a grin. “Cooking the sukiyaki takes less than half an hour. I’ve always enjoyed cooking, it’s an activity that smells good and usually ends up tasting amazing. What’s not to like?”
“Right…it probably has nothing to do with the fact that you need one aspect of your life to exercise control over because your health sucks.”
Jūshirō barked a laugh, which ended in a slight coughing fit. When he’d calmed himself down he crossed his arms over his chest and shot Shunsui and irritated look.
“You know, just because I’m the better cook doesn’t mean that you have to tear it down for me.”
Shunsui grinned, “So I’m right?”
Jūshirō swatted Shunsui in the arm, “Go squeeze your bean paste.”
Shunsui gave him a saucy wink before going to continue working on the meal. The afternoon passed in a steady and continual process of cooking. Jūshirō had to admit that Shunsui wasn't as bad as he’d assumed, although he did have to prevent the kitchen from catching on fire when the sake had been added to the pan when they’d begun to cook the beef. Jūshirō was even more surprised when he checked the fridge about a half hour before Nanao was supposed to arrive and found that the red bean jelly had actually set.
“This wasn’t as horrible as I thought it was going to be,” Shunsui confessed as put the excess ingredients away.
“Imagine that. It’s not like I’ve been trying to convince you of that for hundreds of years or anything.”
Jūshirō laughed when Shunsui threw the dish towel at him. “Well it’s true!” He insisted.
“You’re my best friend, you’re not supposed to say ‘I told you so’” Shunsui said.
Jūshirō arched an eyebrow, “Do I even need to respond to that? Are you sure you want me to respond to that?”
Shunsui mock-shivered before turning suddenly to face Jūshirō. “We didn’t make any extra! You could have taken some with you for your own dinner.”
Jūshirō laughed and shook his head, “That’s okay. I think I’ll let you and Ise-san share the first meal you’ve ever cooked. As you so delicately pointed out…my health already sucks.”
Shunsui’s expression was unamused, “Very funny Ukitake. Now get out before Nanao-chan gets here.”
Jūshirō held his hands up in defeat, “Fine, fine. Enjoy your meal – if this goes well you’ll be able to come and cook for me when I’m ill.”
“Unlikely. Good-bye Ukitake.”
“Give my regards to the chef,” Jūshirō called back over his shoulder on his way out. As he walked back to Ugendō he passed Nanao. Although not exactly ‘dressed up’ for the dinner, Nanao did look better than she normally did. It made Jūshirō smile; maybe there was hope for the two after all.