"Uh. Probably."
His Ma' packed it, but that ain't slipping. Usually his lunch consists of whatever and however much of it, leftovers or something new seamed together, coherent only in its incoherency. He never minded it; it was cheap, good, and filling. He'd never complain about eating his Mom's cooking, anyway... even if he always ripped off that 'lil post-it note she liked to add. Always tucked away in a pocket, mind you. Never tossed out.
Speaking of, Kanji fumbles around in that exact pocket, pulling free a couple of wrinkled-up Yen. .. or is it two halves of a singular Yen...?
"Yeah, I know a ramen place not far off. Cheap, but their meat doesn't taste it. Means they know their seasonings. So, uhh... we'll split a bowl, me 'n you. You're not gonna' fight me over what one, are ya'? I've had enough of that for a lifetime."
She was like a rabid creature, clashing teeth and talons held fast to her chopsticks. He's never seen Chie in that light before, yet it stars in many of his worst nightmares.
@electricea!
