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There were three things wrong with the macaroni and cheese sitting in their refrigerator at the moment.
One: It was growing hair. Two: It smelled terrible. Three: There was a whole dish of it left.
They hadn't shopped in a little over a month due to cut wages – no amount of griping could get them raised again, thanks to the precarious position the manager was in already – and it showed in their nearly-empty shelves and pantries. They had finally dove into the fridge, looking for something substantial, and had found leftovers from a potluck Chie threw for Yukiko's birthday. It had been great, and they had taken home a lot of food (which then dwindled week by week until the present), yet the casserole dish of macaroni hadn't been touched once.
Yosuke's excuse was that he was lactose intolerant. He himself, however, had no such excuse to keep him from eating the macaroni. It just had never crossed his mind.
Until now.
With shaking hands he drew it out of the frosty cage, setting it upon the counter and holding back the urge to throw up as he removed its glass cover. Yosuke hit the floor, dry heaving, and backed up once he could manage to stand. The macaroni sat silent, eager to be tasted.
He swallowed back fear – hadn't he faced worse than this? hadn't he beaten a goddess of death and lived to tell the tale? on that note, hadn't he eaten worse than this? – and took up his weapon of choice: a spoon. The silver was thrust into the gooey mess, making his stomach lurch with how easily it passed through the greenish membrane, and he made sure to keep a straight face as he lifted the terrifying beast up and into his mouth.
He chewed once, twice, then swallowed. And swallowed again, once bile rose up in rebellion. Yosuke watched from the other side of the kitchen, disgust and amazement mixing in equal parts on his face. He raised his spoon and waved a few times to show Yosuke he was fine, and cracked a smile when Yosuke shook his head and closed his eyes.
“Dude. I totally thought you were gonna kick the bucket there. Your face got all pale when you put it in and everything.”
Well. Maybe he hadn't been as straight-faced as he had hoped.
“You okay?”
He nodded once and set aside the spoon, glancing at the macaroni before him. Aside from the taste, the smell, the look of it, and how it felt going down...
“It isn't too bad. It isn't toxic, at least.”
The look on Yosuke's face was priceless; he immediately wished he had a camera so he could remember it. He settled with studying it thoroughly and chuckling when Yosuke shook his head again.
“I just want to say how much I admire your courage, man. I seriously couldn't do it.”
“You might have to. There's nothing else to eat.”