[ Yato in fact has no other business to attend to in the meantime. Is this Ryoji bastard mocking him for being idle?? Is he calling Yato lazy???
(No, Yato is just an idiot.)
Well, he'll show Ryoji just how idle he can be!! He arrives at Ryoji's apartment complex super early with a giant set of shears and other sharp gardening tools that he """borrowed""" off a landscaping truck he passed by and starts aggressively landscaping the shrubbery around Ryoji's place. Who has no other business to attend to in the meantime now, huh? HUH???
He's going to make a cute as fuck dog out of this hedge. And prune these flowers over here. And pluck out these little weeds... He's going to make this area of the complex AMAZING. If it looked fine before, once Yato is done with it, it's going to be fine.
Meanwhile, who even knows what the poor locals are thinking about this angry stranger running around and attacking the plants... Artfully, admittedly, but the way he's going about it leaves something to be desired. ]
Edited (WHOOPS IT'S NOT A HOUSE) 2017-03-05 16:24 (UTC)
[ What, indeed, are people supposed to think about this unexpected but very enthusiastic gardener? Spring has come...
One of the residents in the building at the time happens to be Ryoji's mother, watching Yato go about his business from her first story window. She doesn't bear much resemblance to Ryoji at all, dark brown hair worn in a loose dead anime mom side ponytail, and eyes a softer blue than Ryoji's own, but her voice is similarly bright and cheerful as she calls out to Yato as he passes by the window.
"Hello~!" That's the extent of her affection towards strangers before she dives right to business: "Don't forget to till the soil next to the path, and don't throw away the dandelions." She passes him a plastic bowl through the open window. "Pull from the base of the stem and shake off the dirt. Try to keep the roots intact."
You're here to garden, right? Gonna put you to work, boy. ]
[ Yato... squints... and then takes the plastic bowl without comment. Fine?? He'll do it?? He tills the soil next to the path as specified and then gently uproots the dandelions, careful not to puff on them and send the white hairs of the seed heads flying. When he's done, he puts the bowl of dandelions on the woman's sill and taps the window to get her attention. He may not have signed up for this, but he still wants to make sure she's satisfied with his work... ]
[ She takes the bowl back graciously with a thank you, and works on separating the roots from the stems from the leaves in neat little piles on her desk sitting right before the window. The white dandelion heads she passes back to Yato on open palms, a smile, tells him to "Blow and make a wish."
That's when Ryoji finally jogs up to the building, momentarily confused at seeing his mother leaning halfway out the window, talking to the gardener(? all he knows of this Yaboku is his profile picture that may or may not be Mikoto), and then the dandelion puffs— at which he breaks into a run. ]
[ What a nice lady? Yato takes the dandelion puffs and is already taking a big breath (I wish for Ryoji to start balding at age 21) when -- Ryoji's voice comes out of nowhere and calls the woman Mom. Yato's breath comes out in a surprised wheeze that blows half the dandelion seeds away. ]
Mom?! [ He looks at Ryoji's mom. ] That's your son?
[ The receding hairline is leaning that way, but wishes aren't granted for so halfhearted a blow. Ryoji's mother looks more amused than anything— mostly at Yato's use of the relative pronoun 'that' instead of 'he'— and replies back with, "Could you tell me what he did, before I incriminate myself?"
Sorry Ryoji's mom, Yato is too busy yelling at your boy. ]
Yato! You called me for a job!
[ He's seen so damn much of Ryoji (from behind street corners and bushes) that it doesn't occur to him that Ryoji's never once seen his real face in return... ]
[ Sorry bro, Ryoji's only interactions with him are through the network, in which he's firmly ingrained into Ryoji's mind as Yaboku, flower boy, delivery king.
He smiles though, at the honest mistake on Yato's part, and offers his hand. ]
[ Yato eyes Ryoji's hand for a moment. But under the watchful eye of Ryoji's mom, he can't ignore it like he normally would. He slowly takes Ryoji's hand, but doesn't bother shaking or squeezing. ]
... Yaboku. You probably know me as Yaboku. But call me Yato!
[ The only person who calls him Yaboku anymore is his dad. ]
Oh, right! It's in my room. I'll go fetch it, so you—
[ He lets go of Yato's hands. Both of them are covered in dirt. Why... ]
—go wash up.
[ "Both of you go wash up," Ryoji's mom interjects from her spot at the window. "Leave your shoes at the front door, and don't touch anything until your hands are clean." While she's at it, she continues giving instructions like somebody used to having several people under her doing her bidding without question. "Ryoji, wash two cups of rice. Yato, there are pots on the counter; fill one halfway at the sink and light the stove to start boiling the water." ]
[ O...h?? Okay... Yato's irritation toward Ryoji is momentarily pushed out of mind as Ryoji's mom takes over. Before he knows it he's left his shoes at the front door, doesn't touch anything until he's washed his hands thoroughly, and begins filling a pot with water. Contrary to his wild gardener persona and antagonistic meeting with Ryoji, Yato is quiet and awkward in the Mochizuki home, as if he isn't sure where he should be putting himself.
While Ryoji's washing the rice, Yato leans in and lowers his voice... ]
Hmm. No? [ Does cooking rice make one a chef... ] She used to be a researcher and professor at the university.
[ If he can tell by the way papers are strewn around the living room in stacks bound together by binder clips, stray pens laying around here and there all in red ink. The unit itself is very sparsely decorated, a single family picture above the faux fireplace that depicts the smiling face of a four-year-old Ryoji alongside his mother and father, unlit incense underneath, but nothing else by means of a homely touch. ]
They say every mother's cooking is as good as a chef's though— that's the magic of a home cooked meal.
[ Shh it's more of an aura thing... He's a bit surprised to hear that Mrs. Mochizuki is former professor, though. Not because she doesn't seem professorial, but because Ryoji is just. So Ryoji. ]
Is that right...?
[ A home cooked meal sounds great... ]
--Wait, what am I doing? I didn't come here to help you guys make dinner.
[ Where did she go wrong in raising Ryoji? Maybe he's just a lost cause. One that glances over at Yato with mild surprise because ]
You didn't? But you were helping her harvest dandelions...
[ It sure sounds like his mother heckled Yato into helping with dinner, now that he thinks about it, so he dries his hands on the towel hanging on the oven handle and steps away from the rice cooker. ]
I'll go get the package so I won't hold you up any longer. It's too bad I added enough rice for three people, but don't worry, I'll eat your share too. I think we're having ochazuke.
I was hoping you would! Because I need help cooking dinner.
[ So, you're good at cutting, right, Yato? Because Ryoji digs through the fridge and brings out salmon, places it on a cutting board in front of Yato to section and grill— and when he's done with that, there's the dandelion stems that have been washed and separated from the roots for him to dice into short segments as garnish.
Ryoji does his part by sprinkling some tea leaves into the boiling water. ]
[ Ryoji is definitely getting some side-eye. Are all these things left out really for Yato to prep...?
But he'll start honing a knife anyway, on a honing steel if the Mochizukis have one, or on the back of another knife if they don't. The pure metallic ringing of each pass easily fills the apartment. Finally, he wipes the blade off so he can get to work on the salmon. But first-- ]
If I have to do this, then you're watching!
[ Ryoji doesn't get a free pass!! If he can't prep, then he gets to learn how to prep. ]
[ Ryoji shuts his eyes at the sound of metal on metal— two knives, because he doesn't do much of the cooking to be able to help Yato locate a honing steel, and couldn't tell one from a pair of chopsticks anyways— cringing at the way the sound pierces right through his head. ]
Yes, alright!
[ Just. Don't do that anymore. Yato has his rapt attention though, because while Ryoji has no real intentions of learning how to cook, he absolutely loves watching people create. ]
But once he's satisfied that Ryoji is paying attention, Yato rolls up his sleeves and gets to work. He lets a pan heat up as he runs a hand over the salmon to locate and remove any pinbones, then begins to slice enough salmon for three steaks with long, graceful strokes of the knife. Using a paper towel, he pats the steaks dry before seasoning them with salt and pepper. ]
Salmon's easy to cook once you know what you're looking for. You don't have to overdo anything. It's all about bringing out the natural flavor with the right technique.
[ He tosses a generous spoonful of butter onto the pan, where it immediately begins to sizzle. He skates the butter around until it starts to brown, and then gently lays each steak skinside-down. The sizzling intensifies, and Yato tilts the pan and uses a spoon to coat the salmon in precious, precious butter.
He'll let the salmon sit for about six minutes; in the meantime, he fills a bowl with ice and cold water. He cuts a dandelion stem into two-inch portions, then very carefully slices the portions lengthwise, so thinly as to be nearly translucent. He pops the slices into the ice water, where they begin to curl into ribbons.
Next, he invites himself to the Mochizuki refrigerator and pulls out a tomato, onion, and lemon (OR OTHER SIMILAR VEGETABLES THEY MIGHT HAVE I GUESS). He quickly dices the tomato and onion into small pieces and tosses them together along with some dandelion leaves, oil, vinegar, lemon juice, salt, and pepper to make a simple salad.
He flips the salmon steaks over to finish cooking through, fetches three plates, and in a minute everything is ready for plating: salmon in the center, a lemon wedge to the side, a mound of colorful dandelion salad cascading over each steak, and a few delicate curls of dandelion stem to garnish the tops.
Done!! Yato wipes his hands on a towel and puts his hands on his hips as he surveys his work. ]
What do you think?
Edited (forgot the dumb lemon) 2017-03-18 04:08 (UTC)
[ While Ryoji had been watching silently, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, his face clouds over now, troubled. What did he think? Thoughts weren't foremost on his mind while he watched Yato cook; there were, however, many sentiments, much of which he can't properly express with words. Because how can he explain his admiration for the sureness and ease by which Yato seems to work, the care and precision that Ryoji never would have guessed in speaking with him? What did he think? ]
I think... this isn't ochazuke.
[ He was expecting the simplest of home cooked meals, literally green tea poured over white rice with a little bit of fish on top, not a dish that could easily be served in a restaurant. That he can't help but hover over, close enough that the steam warms his face. ]
It looks amazing, but— Yato. [ Ryoji turns his head sharply away from the plates, eyes narrowing in confusion. ] Why are you a delivery boy?
You can put the fish in the rice if it bothers you so much!
[ Don't be picky!! God!!
Yato has always been handy. His unspoken rule is that if something can be done, then it should be done, and done well. His other unspoken rule is that if other people are around to appreciate you, then you should always give them the opportunity to appreciate you!
Ergo, all the showing off. ]
And it's delivery king! I deliver people from their problems! It just so happens that people's problems involve packages every once in a while.
[ Ryoji just laughs off Yato's irritation towards him, about the only way he knows how to soothe sentiments he can't quite understand. ]
Delivering people from their problems... that's a wonderful way to put it. I don't know what I'd do if you hadn't agreed to help me out.
[ He would probably go to the postal office or something similarly mundane, but a surprise package from the Delivery King sounded like too good an experience to pass up. His smile softens to something more genuine when he looks over at Yato, then somewhat troubled when his eyes flit down to the dishes he's prepared. ]
I do have a problem I'm not sure you can deliver me from though... Your cooking looks so delicious, I'm afraid I do want to eat both your serving and mine after all.
[ Yato guesses he will accept Ryoji's praise... even if Ryoji is a cad. All of that softness and genuine smiling nearly lowers Yato's guard, but he's seen Ryoji's routine. He won't be taken in...!
At that last bit, Yato squints and purses his lip. ]
Not a chance.
[ He resolutely sits at the table and pulls a plate toward him, shielding it with his arms. ]
If you want a second share, you'll have to steal from your mom. And finish that rice up so we can eat!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
action
(No, Yato is just an idiot.)
Well, he'll show Ryoji just how idle he can be!! He arrives at Ryoji's apartment complex super early with a giant set of shears and other sharp gardening tools that he """borrowed""" off a landscaping truck he passed by and starts aggressively landscaping the shrubbery around Ryoji's place. Who has no other business to attend to in the meantime now, huh? HUH???
He's going to make a cute as fuck dog out of this hedge. And prune these flowers over here. And pluck out these little weeds... He's going to make this area of the complex AMAZING. If it looked fine before, once Yato is done with it, it's going to be fine.
Meanwhile, who even knows what the poor locals are thinking about this angry stranger running around and attacking the plants... Artfully, admittedly, but the way he's going about it leaves something to be desired. ]
no subject
One of the residents in the building at the time happens to be Ryoji's mother, watching Yato go about his business from her first story window. She doesn't bear much resemblance to Ryoji at all, dark brown hair worn in a loose dead anime mom side ponytail, and eyes a softer blue than Ryoji's own, but her voice is similarly bright and cheerful as she calls out to Yato as he passes by the window.
"Hello~!" That's the extent of her affection towards strangers before she dives right to business: "Don't forget to till the soil next to the path, and don't throw away the dandelions." She passes him a plastic bowl through the open window. "Pull from the base of the stem and shake off the dirt. Try to keep the roots intact."
You're here to garden, right? Gonna put you to work, boy. ]
no subject
no subject
That's when Ryoji finally jogs up to the building, momentarily confused at seeing his mother leaning halfway out the window, talking to the gardener(? all he knows of this Yaboku is his profile picture that may or may not be Mikoto), and then the dandelion puffs— at which he breaks into a run. ]
Mom! I want to blow them!
no subject
Mom?! [ He looks at Ryoji's mom. ] That's your son?
no subject
There is no loyalty in this household. ]
That's my mom. Who are you?
no subject
LOSE IT
Sorry Ryoji's mom, Yato is too busy yelling at your boy. ]
Yato! You called me for a job!
[ He's seen so damn much of Ryoji (from behind street corners and bushes) that it doesn't occur to him that Ryoji's never once seen his real face in return... ]
no subject
I don't know a Yato.
[ Sorry bro, Ryoji's only interactions with him are through the network, in which he's firmly ingrained into Ryoji's mind as Yaboku, flower boy, delivery king.
He smiles though, at the honest mistake on Yato's part, and offers his hand. ]
But it's nice to meet you. My name's Ryoji.
no subject
... Yaboku. You probably know me as Yaboku. But call me Yato!
[ The only person who calls him Yaboku anymore is his dad. ]
no subject
Oh...! You're Mikoto's Yato!
no subject
I'm Yato's Yato! Anyway, your delivery!
no subject
[ He lets go of Yato's hands. Both of them are covered in dirt. Why... ]
—go wash up.
[ "Both of you go wash up," Ryoji's mom interjects from her spot at the window. "Leave your shoes at the front door, and don't touch anything until your hands are clean." While she's at it, she continues giving instructions like somebody used to having several people under her doing her bidding without question. "Ryoji, wash two cups of rice. Yato, there are pots on the counter; fill one halfway at the sink and light the stove to start boiling the water." ]
no subject
While Ryoji's washing the rice, Yato leans in and lowers his voice... ]
Is your mom a chef or something?
no subject
[ If he can tell by the way papers are strewn around the living room in stacks bound together by binder clips, stray pens laying around here and there all in red ink. The unit itself is very sparsely decorated, a single family picture above the faux fireplace that depicts the smiling face of a four-year-old Ryoji alongside his mother and father, unlit incense underneath, but nothing else by means of a homely touch. ]
They say every mother's cooking is as good as a chef's though— that's the magic of a home cooked meal.
no subject
Is that right...?
[ A home cooked meal sounds great... ]
--Wait, what am I doing? I didn't come here to help you guys make dinner.
no subject
You didn't? But you were helping her harvest dandelions...
[ It sure sounds like his mother heckled Yato into helping with dinner, now that he thinks about it, so he dries his hands on the towel hanging on the oven handle and steps away from the rice cooker. ]
I'll go get the package so I won't hold you up any longer. It's too bad I added enough rice for three people, but don't worry, I'll eat your share too. I think we're having ochazuke.
no subject
No way you're eating my share! ... Fine, I'll stay!
[ It's his share now and thinking about it in Ryoji's belly is making him mad?? Sorry Ryoji, you're dealing with an eight-year-old... ]
no subject
[ So, you're good at cutting, right, Yato? Because Ryoji digs through the fridge and brings out salmon, places it on a cutting board in front of Yato to section and grill— and when he's done with that, there's the dandelion stems that have been washed and separated from the roots for him to dice into short segments as garnish.
Ryoji does his part by sprinkling some tea leaves into the boiling water. ]
no subject
But he'll start honing a knife anyway, on a honing steel if the Mochizukis have one, or on the back of another knife if they don't. The pure metallic ringing of each pass easily fills the apartment. Finally, he wipes the blade off so he can get to work on the salmon. But first-- ]
If I have to do this, then you're watching!
[ Ryoji doesn't get a free pass!! If he can't prep, then he gets to learn how to prep. ]
no subject
Yes, alright!
[ Just. Don't do that anymore. Yato has his rapt attention though, because while Ryoji has no real intentions of learning how to cook, he absolutely loves watching people create. ]
no subject
But once he's satisfied that Ryoji is paying attention, Yato rolls up his sleeves and gets to work. He lets a pan heat up as he runs a hand over the salmon to locate and remove any pinbones, then begins to slice enough salmon for three steaks with long, graceful strokes of the knife. Using a paper towel, he pats the steaks dry before seasoning them with salt and pepper. ]
Salmon's easy to cook once you know what you're looking for. You don't have to overdo anything. It's all about bringing out the natural flavor with the right technique.
[ He tosses a generous spoonful of butter onto the pan, where it immediately begins to sizzle. He skates the butter around until it starts to brown, and then gently lays each steak skinside-down. The sizzling intensifies, and Yato tilts the pan and uses a spoon to coat the salmon in precious, precious butter.
He'll let the salmon sit for about six minutes; in the meantime, he fills a bowl with ice and cold water. He cuts a dandelion stem into two-inch portions, then very carefully slices the portions lengthwise, so thinly as to be nearly translucent. He pops the slices into the ice water, where they begin to curl into ribbons.
Next, he invites himself to the Mochizuki refrigerator and pulls out a tomato, onion, and lemon (OR OTHER SIMILAR VEGETABLES THEY MIGHT HAVE I GUESS). He quickly dices the tomato and onion into small pieces and tosses them together along with some dandelion leaves, oil, vinegar, lemon juice, salt, and pepper to make a simple salad.
He flips the salmon steaks over to finish cooking through, fetches three plates, and in a minute everything is ready for plating: salmon in the center, a lemon wedge to the side, a mound of colorful dandelion salad cascading over each steak, and a few delicate curls of dandelion stem to garnish the tops.
Done!! Yato wipes his hands on a towel and puts his hands on his hips as he surveys his work. ]
What do you think?
no subject
I think... this isn't ochazuke.
[ He was expecting the simplest of home cooked meals, literally green tea poured over white rice with a little bit of fish on top, not a dish that could easily be served in a restaurant. That he can't help but hover over, close enough that the steam warms his face. ]
It looks amazing, but— Yato. [ Ryoji turns his head sharply away from the plates, eyes narrowing in confusion. ] Why are you a delivery boy?
no subject
[ Don't be picky!! God!!
Yato has always been handy. His unspoken rule is that if something can be done, then it should be done, and done well. His other unspoken rule is that if other people are around to appreciate you, then you should always give them the opportunity to appreciate you!
Ergo, all the showing off. ]
And it's delivery king! I deliver people from their problems! It just so happens that people's problems involve packages every once in a while.
no subject
Delivering people from their problems... that's a wonderful way to put it. I don't know what I'd do if you hadn't agreed to help me out.
[ He would probably go to the postal office or something similarly mundane, but a surprise package from the Delivery King sounded like too good an experience to pass up. His smile softens to something more genuine when he looks over at Yato, then somewhat troubled when his eyes flit down to the dishes he's prepared. ]
I do have a problem I'm not sure you can deliver me from though... Your cooking looks so delicious, I'm afraid I do want to eat both your serving and mine after all.
no subject
At that last bit, Yato squints and purses his lip. ]
Not a chance.
[ He resolutely sits at the table and pulls a plate toward him, shielding it with his arms. ]
If you want a second share, you'll have to steal from your mom. And finish that rice up so we can eat!
(no subject)