i'm trying.

“Tastes like blue, eh? Hm.. I suppose that’s a lot better than nasty,” he ponders aloud, flipping a couple of pages in a steno book nearby to make note of Fudou’s reaction ( likely needs some sort of extract so it tastes like something recognizable.. ). It might help mask some of the pungency of some ingredients he slotted as potential adjustments.. Ah, right, Fudou. He’s awake. Talk to him.

“Coconut water, banana, blueberries, and a bit of fresh orange juice, among a couple of other herbs.. I spent a little bit of time trying to figure out what alcohol depletes the most out of the system—and, perhaps, if replenishing those in excess would help a little more than just soup and water. Although.. I suppose the coconut water is still a bit overpowering, flavor-wise.. please let me know if you end up feeling more nauseous than usual, though.” Between making a mess in his room and making sure toudan could actually handle a bastardized smoothie, this was vital results. 

Soon, however, his gaze softens, shifting to focus on the other tantou’s general well-being instead. “I’m glad you’re up though, even if it is the middle of the day. Although.. I suppose I should consider doing research in here more often. It’s rather peaceful when someone’s around. Were you comfortable?” Not that he expected him to actually have an answer to that, but, Yagen tries to be accommodating. 

“Coconut...” Fudou repeats, in both realization and agreement. It wasn’t the only flavor, and the fact it was mixed with other things made it difficult to pinpoint at first, but after hearing Yagen mention it, that was one of the main things he could taste. “Mmmhm... Okay.” He was feeling ... relatively fine, for now. He didn’t feel great, but considering he wasn’t scrambling out of bed to try and make it to a toilet, he’d consider it good.

He rubs his eyes, letting out a sigh as if the process of waking up was taking physical exertion. With a grunt, and an ‘mmhm’ in response to Yagen’s question, Fudou half-drags himself, half-crawls, over to the table and sets the glass down before righting himself to sit up, leaning his arms on the tabletop. 

“Yeah... Thanks,” he finally says, sounding a little more awake than he has yet so far. His head still hurts, and he feels stiff and the usual hungover malaise, but he does feel it all ebbing a bit after having drank that concoction-- as opposed to it just becoming less prominent because he’s re-intoxicating himself. He has to admit, for now it’s not bad. 

Hm... He doesn’t respond, but if Yagen wanted company while he worked, even if it mean him just snoozing, Fudou wouldn’t mind hanging out in here more often. Felt better than being alone, at least.

Fudou swallows hard, already-shaky hands hardly able to even just hover over the general vicinity of the wound. Thankfully most of the enemies had been defeated and the rest were being taken care of, but that thought didn’t do much to console him. “I-I’m sorry-- I really didn’t mean to, I just-- slipped, and--” 

Sure... He and Hasebe rarely really saw eye-to-eye, and conflict and strain were no strangers to their relationship. But, even Fudou knew better than to do something like this on purpose, especially during a mission. Hasebe had to believe him, right?

The lump of person stirs under the blanket ( finally, it was creeping into the afternoon ), distracting Yagen from his thoughts. The sitting table he finally decided to bring out ( mostly because it’s not often used–he’s not here most hours aside to sleep ) is the one other things that takes up space, but it houses a plethora of handbooks, and an interesting..brightly colored drink. It’s a nice blue, but it’s hard to guess exactly what flavor it might be ( whatever it was, yagen had discovered last night, it was strong ). Although not particularly obvious to the half-asleep tantou, someone moved his research out of the infirmary to keep an eye on him.

The apology hits his ears, and he can’t help but chuckle softly–”Well, good morning to you, too,” he hums, marking a page in yet another textbook obtained from their taisho so he can put it down. Looks like he was still hooked on finding ingredients that foster energy, especially since the dark circles under his eyes were sporting a lovely contour today. Not that he was willing to disclose the little sleep he had gotten ( mostly because he didn’t mind at all ).

“There’s no need to apologize, that’s just how it is some days. Here, I’ve managed to put something together last night, but.. I think it may work best to drink it before falling asleep, based on what I’ve found out. Still, better late than never. I want to know if it tastes like..something.” Considering how much Fudou was squinting, he adds, “..I can close the blinds a bit if the light is too harsh at the moment, too.”

Fudou sits there for a minute, squinting, and eventually closing his eyes again, but Yagen’s voice manages to keep him from just lying back down and trying to pass out again. He’s not sure what time it is, either, but it hardly matters-- any time he’s waking up is too early by default.

“Huh..?” Fudou looks at the drink offered to him, and Yagen’s explanation doesn’t really tell him what it’s for. Well, he’s in no state to question the purpose of the stuff at this point, he can barely even see it through the blur of his eyelashes. “Yeah, that’d be great...”

Tagged By: @medicablade​

Tagging: u, if u wanna

Your Mind

Your mind is terrifying...

You're smart, cunning, and your mind might just lean in dark directions... No matter what you do, it's gonna be genius, and you're not gonna get caught unless you want to.

You bide your time, making a master plan, preying on your victim's weaknesses. You can find out exactly what their worst fears are, and make them happen. You're a force to be reckoned with.

Ah.. he managed to forget about the pot, huh. Maybe it’ll be safer for him to keep an eye on just about everything, but.. the udon’s already nicely chopped and it’s just a matter of waiting for the water to boil. Speaking of the stove.. now that he doesn’t need to watch where his knife lands, Shokudaikiri checks the flame, soon turning it up to account for the sheer amount of water in the pot. “I’ll keep an eye on it. Your chores are done, Fudou–thanks!” the tachi beams, soon heading to a hefty freezer unit to dig around in it for something in particular.

Soon, he procures a wrapped up ice cream sandwich–two, actually, he wants one himself–and hands it to Fudou once he’s refreshed himself with amazake ( yagen’s gonna give daikiri a stink eye if he catches this–oops ). “Here, neapolitan. The little ones recommended them as the best.” They might even pair nicely together since it’s sweet. 

Unwrapping one himself, he takes a content bite, unable to help a, “Mmm!” from escaping. Sweets must be one of his weaknesses. “Hopefully this helps a little bit. Give the amazake a little time to hit. These are good..”

Fudou watches with a growing frown as Shokudaikiri turns up the flame under the pot. Of course he didn’t have the stove turned up high enough. First he forgets the entire thing in the sink, then sets it up to be barely even warmed up at all? And what now, he can’t even be trusted to watch it? So, as the tachi’d said, he’s done, probably even for the best, because even just today his track record’s proven he’s--

Even through taking another drink, his facial expression has scrunched up considerably by the time he’s got a frozen treat offered to him. He snatches it from him with a tense “thanks,” and he puts his cup down again to unwrap it. It’s a struggle, though, and he resorts to just picking at a piece of the paper and tearing it until it’s open enough. 

He finally takes a bite too, and for a moment, all he’s really thinking about is the ice cream. Wow-- maybe it was because it was literally the only solid thing he’s had today, or maybe it was just really that good, but it’s really hitting the spot. He lets out an accompanying “mmmm” as well. Shoot, he might have to come back and sneak another of these later...

He can’t help but chuckle for a moment before returning a soft, “Good night,” in return. Once Fudou’s out like a light ( which, he notices with a tint of envy, takes no time at all ), Yagen takes a moment for himself before pulling himself to his feet, off to concoct some sort of hangover reducer until he can’t keep his eyes open ( even then, he’s a bit nocturnal as it is.. easier said than done ).

Once morning rises, he’s only ended up with a few hours of sleep at most, and although that’s awful for a human being, it’s no secret that toudan can strain themselves much easier. As Fudou snoozes away, at least Yagen takes the courtesy to refrigerate his experiment(s) before sleeping himself.

Needless to say.. they’re quite.. colorful to say the least. Now, all he needs to do is wait—and remind himself not to eat all of the breakfast in front of him. Some of that’s for the other tantou.

As soon as Fudou is at all conscious, his eyebrows are furrowing against the headache already budding inside his skull. His head is under the pillow and his eyes are still shut tight, but he is already wincing at the sure-to-come worsening of the pain as soon as he opens them and takes in any drop of light. 

It’s so tempting to stay there, but he isn’t sure that he won’t have to go empty his stomach soon, and it’d be nice to have a head start to do that with. He feels around with his hand first, hoping to maybe find his glass or maybe a bottle, or something that might help take the sharp point off the ache in his head. He comes up empty, though, which is odd to him, considering that even if there wasn’t anything to drink, his room is not very well picked up and there would at least be something empty sitting around-- so this isn’t his room? Where is he?

He finally, slowly, as if pulling himself from under a pile of rocks, sits up and lifts his head from under the pillow and looks around. He can barely see through his intense squinting, but it is, in fact, not his own room, but Yagen’s. He shouldn’t be surprised, but he just doesn’t remember laying down here. Again... no surprise.

But, oh, there’s Yagen-- and through the dry cracked mess that feels like is his brain, he’s feeling a bit of remorse. Here he is, in Yagen’s room, and can’t even remember why. Either he just came in and passed out, or he put the other tantou up through the trouble of taking care of him in some capacity. Both are honestly equally viable on his own part, but he knows how Yagen is-- always looking after everyone. 

A soft smile caresses his features–Fudou really was the shy sort, wasn’t he? The tantou reminds him a little bit of Manba, when he thinks about it. “Ah? I’ve gotta roll out the dough a little bit to make the correct length noodles. Oh, don’t forget to put the pot on the stove, by the way,” Shokudaikiri answers lightly, soon pulling out a smooth stone slab from a cabinet. Next comes a sprinkle of flour, and the tachi drops the mound of dough on top, sprinkles some more flour, and begins to roll out the dough.

“The game plan is that I can chop up all of the vegetables while the udon is cooking,” he announces, rolling out the dough thin enough to pick it up and fold it over a couple of times. Moving around the kitchen is second nature for him as be pulls a knife from the butcher’s block, swiftly chopping the dough into thick noodle sections. “Oh, can you start the boiling, too? We’ll have a little bit before it’s ready, though—is there anything else you want right now?” There’s.. desserts sitting in the fridge and freezer–especially of the “even a toudan shouldn’t have more than three of these” variety.

Fudou’s eyes go from the rolling pin to Shokudaikiri’s face while he listens to the explanation, and he’s mid-nod when he’s reminded of the pot in the sink. A sharp inhale is heard before he skitters over to the forgotten first task, and he’s muttering at himself as he quickly turns the faucet off. The pot had started overflowing and while it’s not a big deal and hadn’t turned into a mess, he reminds himself that he’s on thin ice. Shokudaikiri’s trusting him, for some reason, to be able to help, and while he doesn’t believe much in his own culinary ability it’d be nice for once to be proven wrong. That said, he doesn’t have much faith in that happening.

He tips some water out of the pan, doing his best to keep it steady, so that it’s not too full. He’s admittedly not really listening to Shokudaikiri at this point, as that’s taking most of his concentration, but he does take the pot over to the stove. He turns it on, hoping it’s hot enough, or not too hot, and takes a step back from it just in case. After barely a beat, he goes back to the counter and grabs his glass again, taking a long swig of the amazake.

There’s a sigh—and then another sigh. A single mushroom.

One (1) singular mushroom. Okay, letting him choose was a mistake.

But.. at least his creative side takes the driver’s seat before he can lecture him about manners and common sense ( mostly because they won’t reach this inebriated wall of tantou ), and he takes the mushroom in a gloved hand. “Hmm.. noodles? Perhaps, the famous Mitsutada Udon will be light and filling enough for you—yes, that sounds like a great idea!”

Daikiri flips around to take out of a cutting board, and tosses the mushroom on it, where it lands with a muffled thud. Knowing where everything is with his eyes closed, the tachi is already making bounds around the kitchen grabbing ingredients–soup base, green onions, pre-prepared udon. Maybe he spent a little too much time here.. “Fudou, can you fill the pot on the stove most of the way with water? It’ll mean you have to put down your beverage, but you can put it wherever you’d like. I don’t expect this to take too long,” he asks, bringing all of the ingredients together next to the cutting board easily.

“It might be a good idea to use the whole batch of udon anyway.. there’s no reason to only use a little bit when other toudan might be hungry in a little bit. Sometimes you do have a stroke of genius, eh? As expected of a Nobunaga sword!—Oh, grab me the rolling pin, please?”

Fudou smiles, just a little, as if it’s a physical effort to keep the corners of his mouth there. But with Shokudaikiri seeming so chipper to cook for him, it’s an effort he’s willing to make, for a few moments, anyway. “Mm... Sounds good to me.”

Fudou’s eyes follow the mushroom as it reaches the cutting board, and he watches it for a few seconds before he hears his name. “Huh?” He blinks, first at Shokudaikiri, then at the glass in his hand, then at the pot on the stove. “You... want me to help?” Sure, just earlier, Shokudaikiri had mentioned that he might have to do things today, but this was a different kind of questioning. As was probably obvious to anyone, he wasn’t too apt in the kitchen at all, even if he were sober. With a bit of reluctance, he places the cup on the counter, doing a double take at it to make sure it was still there. Just in case...

He does his best to steel himself with determination to do things steadily, and takes the pan from the stove. Got it. Now, he brings it to the sink, puts it in, and turns on the water. Easy! He’s doing it! He’s cooking! 

He turns to look back at Shokudaikiri, and he’s almost taken aback by that compliment. Even in this state, he’s... pretty sure that wasn’t his idea, and he was pretty sure that he was no genius, no matter how he might gloat about being treasured by Nobunaga. “I... Thanks...” He doesn’t know why he said thanks, but he shakes it off by looking around, squinting a little, to spot the rolling pin that was asked for. 

The thudding of feet distracts him well before the tantou stumbles in, and a brow quirks at the far too casual tone of Fudou’s voice. Shokudaikiri can’t help but guess the worst, especially with how he looked..not so much deathly per se, but he was borderline desperate. 

“Fudou, having amazake on an empty stomach isn’t a smart thing to do. What if you get assigned to something today?” one of the resident Mom Figures chastises, but he gestures towards a nearby pantry, chock full of prepped ingredients and raw dry ingredients. Seems like he had enough time on his hands to prep quite a bit of food ( although there were many hungry mouths to feed in the citadel, anyway ). “Here—I don’t trust you even five meters from a stove, but maybe this can inspire something. See anything you like?”

He squints, however–Daikiri wasn’t ever going to understand how he took that habit from Nobunaga, even with his short time with the man, but nonetheless, he finds himself a bit concerned. “Are you..sporting a hangover and still drinking on an empty stomach? Oi.. you’re dehydrated.. how unsightly.” He frowns. “Pick something filling, and I’ll pair it something that can actually hydrate you.”

Fudou’s eyes scrunch shut, his eyebrows furrowing deeply as he lets out a loud groan that even makes his own head ache. Being scolded for something he already knew and reminded of the fact that there was a chance he’d have to do something today? Maybe he should’ve just stayed in his room.

“Yeesh... I know, I know, I’m g--” he cracks his eyes open just in time to see Shokudaikiri motioning toward the pantry anyway. He supposes he can’t be too indignant about the gripe, or maybe it just is completely overshadowed by his request being granted, but either way he totters over to the pantry to look inside. It’s a bit difficult to make a decision-- he wants every item, just because it’s food, even though some of them aren’t really food yet...

“What’s this...” he mutters to himself, prying his hand from where it still clutched his head and grabbing one of the things from where they sat. It was a mushroom, he knows it’s a mushroom, but the question escaped him anyway. God.

“Huh?” He was pulled from rolling his eyes at himself by Shokudaikiri’s comment, still holding the mushroom he’d picked. “Hey, I’m not dehydrated..!” He shook his trusty cup a little bit to gesture to it, immediately stilling his hand when some of the precious drink sloshed out. “Hair of the dog, or whatever. Works for me.”

Fudou can, has, and does, drink when he feels like it, and sometimes when he doesn’t, in the morning, in the evening, any time in between, after a meal, or when he hasn’t eaten yet that day... it’s all fair game. 

However, this fact does not stop the unpleasant feeling of an alcoholic beverage on his empty stomach, and so he has decided to remedy that. Not by putting down his amazake, of course, but by going in search of food. 

He shoves open the door to his room for the first time today, sliding it a little bit too loudly, and winces at the brief moment of blinding light. He keeps his own lights low for a reason, ugh... Clutching his head with his free hand, he stays close to the wall as he shuffles along towards what turns out to be the kitchen. Good. That’s the place he needs to go.