Kitchen Nightmares, Season 1, Episode 1 [private]

Sun May 10, 2020 2:48 pm

A wooden spoon swirled around against the metal pot, the rasping sound as it scratched away at the bottom of the container for the rich ingredients and flavors that had caramelized at the bottom by the grace of the heat informing those savvy enough that the soup being prepared would soon be much richer in taste and sensation as the caramelized particles melded into the watery concoction to create a savory experience to any fortunate enough to visit the shelter on this fine night. The cook holding the spoon in an iron grip was none other than Noboru Kaito, who after having won the chunnin exams, decided the best way to celebrate was to offer his services to the homeless on this fine night.

He donned his new garb, black sleeveless shirt that arched deep into his chest, black pants that tucked into bandages on his feet, protected by standart black sandals so many ninja were fond of using. Whereas he would usually wear bandages on his hands to protect muscles, tendons and ligaments, the same reason why he wore bandages on his feet and calves, he decided it might not be the most hygenic option to work with food. Strapped around his neck and waist, a white apron, appropriately contrasting his clothes. His Kumogakure headband had been unfolded to create a makeshift cap where he hid his crimson mane, responsible for the high expectations of those who expected top performance out of an Uzumaki's famous vitality. The plate with the Hidden Cloud's symbol was still up for show; even if it would only mistake him for a civilian in these circumstances, the white eye under the black eyepatch strapped around his head and covering the right orbital bone of his face reminded him of the dangers of not donning one's headband proudly for the world to see, regardless of the situation. Ghost may have been a misguided soul, however, his sight had aided Kaito in his chunnin battle immensely. "Perhaps now yours will be the strongest byakugan in the Cloud", he had said to his student as he split his abdomen open to flow his life onto the sterile hospital bed.

He lifted the long wooden spoon off the soup, gave it a couple of gentle taps against the tall pot to allow excess to flow back into the soup, and rested it on the pot handle. He procured a spoon nearby and tasted the watery going on creamy meal for seasoning; it lacked the bite of pepper to properly awaken and balance the other ingredients. Kaito looked around the shelther's kitchen for black pepper, so he may crack some black pearls of flavor over the soup.

The shelter, a relic of the domain of some Akihana Something, had been quite the relief for Kumogakure's homeless and homed population. When the village was at peace, the homeless had a place where they would not inopportune the many, and when threats loomed over the Hidden Cloud, most of the civilian population could be packed into the protecting walls of the shelter. Like fish in a barrel. Ready for the taking.

If it were up to Kaito, every man, woman and child would be given a weapon to die with honor when their time came. To die huddled in fear would afford them an eternity of restlessness in the damp and umbral planes of fear, to die defending one's homeland would open the Gates of eternal glory. But it was not up to Kaito; and perhaps, that was for the best.

Kaito got the grinder, and crunched an healthy amount of black pepper over the pot. He picked the wooden spoon, and resumed swirling the mixture gently, letting the flavors blend together.

wc: 621

Mon May 11, 2020 4:31 pm

The crowds deafening cheering hit her ears like a wall as the exams came to their conclusion, the arena was already being cleared at the brilliantly red mane was moving out of the view of her own crimson eyes. She drew her eyebrows together as she watched his frame slip completely out of view - there was something off about his behavior, he didn’t seem as prideful as he should given the accomplishment he had just achieved. Pressing her teeth together for a half moment, a decision to follow him flashing through her head. Groaning lightly to herself, her nagging worry growing to a degree she couldn’t ignore, making her stand up abruptly and start stretching - arms above her head as she turned to the companions she had made during the event. Politely excusing herself she made her way through the throngs of spectators and exited the arena.

The sun was moving swiftly towards the horizon as she scanned the flow of people for the red mane or something to give her any indication of where he might have gone in such a hurry. In hopes to catch a lead on the move she had her way into the major streets of the village - the level of excitement from the match spilling over into the now busy stalls that lined the streets. The shouts of vendors claiming to have a deal on this or that mingled with the hundreds of smells coming from the variety of foods being sold hot for the passerby - all of this combined made her search seem fruitless. Having asked a few people as well for safe measure, none seemed to know where Kaito had gone off to.

Feeling more discouraged as the evening began to set in she would take to walking along roof tops, giving the small figure of Katusumi a height advantage - though to be truthful she was getting overstimulated with all the different smells of food. A surprisingly sharp breeze rushed over her small figure, blowing the platinum blond hair back away from her pale face - she was still wearing her usual clothing; skin tight white coat buttoned up to her throat and cuffed at her elbows, black pants that were tucked into her flat shoes that wrapped up her calves knotted at her knee - so luckily only her nose seemed to feel the bite of the night air…. Along with a familiar scent that was drifting in from further down the road away from the major hub. Having nothing to lose she followed her gut, and her nose, to the village’s shelter, there was no mistake that this was the source of the smell - caramelized onions, garlic, stock, and a blend of spices that melded so well together they were hard to differentiate. She stepped silently into the room and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms and tilting her head curiously to the side.

This was the version of Kaito she was the most familiar with, the only difference now was the head band he used to tie his brilliant hair up and out of his face, she continued to scan his features - the eye patch covering his right eye or his piece de resistance from the exams and his left stayed focused on the soup he was nurturing - noting his still active 2nd tomoe sharingan.

She continued to lean silently, watching him taste test and add some pepper, the sharp smell of freshly ground pepper wafting toward her momentarily. Finally she pushed herself off the wall and approached Kaito, placing her hands on the counter in front of the station he was at, and giving a decisive sniff before addressing him, “Have you considered adding heavy cream yet?”, her voice was clear and had a musical trill to it, and her expression had a hint of playfulness to it. Without waiting for his answer her eyes scanned her surroundings again and rested once more on his familiar face - “Celebrating pretty humbly aren’t you.”

[WC 663]

Wed May 13, 2020 12:20 pm

As a thief in the night, an elfin presence made its way into the kitchen, soft steps barely heard and muffled by the fire underneath the pot. As he had turned his back to reach for the pepper, he had not witnessed her entrance, and yet, when he turned, his crimson eye noted something different, resting momentarily on the presence: there she stood, leaning against a wall as though a ghost who just materialized. Had she wanted it, she may have been able to kill Kaito; a testament to her prowess as a ninja. Katsumi Nakiri, the first child prodigy to instill within Kaito a distaste for those born with gifts they hadn't worked for a single day in their lives.

The startling effect of her newfound presence within this kitchen washed over Kaito as an energizing tide, readying him for a battle if needs be, however he masked and held within any display of disturbance, fruit of years of confrontations with the lower dredges of life from the seedy underbelly of the city. Without skipping a beat, he deviated his eye back to the pot, turning the grinder's top a few times and listening for the satisfying cracking of peppers under the pressure of the toothed wheels.

As Katsumi approached, Kaito resumed mixing the contents of the pot so the freshly ground pepper would meld with the remainder of the ingredients, with her finally resting her hands on the counter in front of his station. He purposefully ignored her presence, forcing his vision on the soup, while she leaned forwards to smell it; when she spoke, a sensation just below his heart sparked quickly through his solar plexus. Even at the periphery of his sight he could see her and note how much she had grown since he last saw her. And yet, her presence was unforgettable; even as a child it commanded respect, and now it commanded veneration. Kaito wasn't able to quite put his finger on it, why all of a sudden he felt the way he did, as if he could feel every inch of skin. Yet, her comment about heavy cream told Kaito that she had become a great ninja. "Heavy cream will go in near the end", he stated as drily as he could muster. The voice dragged within his throat, as he had not talked to anyone since leaving the arena. He needed water, or sake. Probably sake.

He opened a drawer close to him, and drew out a spoon. He dipped it into the soup, so it would hold some of the water of it, careful to avoid the scum that slowly crept its way to the top, and handed it over to Katsumi so she could try it. Although they were not friends, perhaps bitter rivals would best describe them, she had still been a tremendous cook in the short time they shared together in her father's kitchen, and her opinion would be greatly appreciated. A taste testing felt as though it was the smallest courtesy he could offer her.

Her next comment was about his celebratory methods. Kaito moved into a pantry, shuffled for eggs, more onions, and a couple pounds of smoked meat. It was a wonder he was able to find this in this kitchen. He beckoned for her and slapped the meat onto a cutting board. "Slice and dice, not too thin though." As he left her with the meat, he proceeded to put down the eggs and prepare the vegetable cutting board so he could clean the onions. Her comment stuck with him, however, he kept his expression cryptic. "I didn't want to celebrate." He started to peel an onion, his thumbs sticking to the outer layer and powerfully pulling it away, leaving only a layer with a clear sheen to it. "All I did today was hurt two fellow genin for a shot at a better salary. A broken knee, and a broken spine. Hopefully he gets the same doctors that restored Maximillian's spine and he will be able to walk again. Hopefully I didn't finish his career." As more and more onions lost their outer layer, Kaito grabbed a sharp knife and started halving onions. "I decided to come here to give something back. Do my good deed for the day." He created parallel cuts along the onion halves, then diced perpendicularly, creating thinly sliced onion.

For a second he allowed himself to glance at Katsumi. "And what brings you here?"

Wc: 747
Twc: 1368

Fri May 15, 2020 8:17 pm

Whether it be from living in a kitchen everyday of her life from the tender age of 4, or simply because she had always paid closer attention to Kaito in that time, it was easy to hear the drag in his voice as he responded to her half question half suggestion. A face of controlled concentration was all she could see but she knew to read further into people than just a simple facial expression - his body language spoke just as clearly to her trained eyes. Choosing not to look at her full on only told her he was either avoiding addressing her or was trying to hide an emotion that a full on look would reveal. A voice that was rough and dry slid into her ears, causing the smallest smirk to cross her lips as she continued to stare undeterred into his profile. The smell of the soup was much stronger within this range as well, the aromatic herb blend he was using was very harmonious - the simmering concoction slowly melding into it’s own specific smell instead of an amalgamation. Heavy cream near the end though was smart since you didn’t want to overcook the dairy and ruin the creamy effect it brought to a stock based soup as this one.

Her eyes flicked fluidly to the hand that was not occupied with the consistent stirring, this one instead opening a close drawer and drawing out a spoon and collecting enough of the base for her to taste. His face still had not turned to face hers and while she could easily call him out for this act - as she had done so many times in her youth. Instead, a thought crossed her mind as his hand reached over the counter intending to hand her the spoon, a glint of mischief flashed in her eyes, reaching out with her left hand she would lightly place hers on top of his to steady his hand while simultaneously leaning forward and drinking the spoonful. As soon as it was done she released his hand, placing the same hand under her delicate chin and lightly tapping it in thought. Crimson eyes rolled up to look to the upper left of her vision as she dissected his base - in honesty it was on a track for perfection - she could taste the years of practice and adjustment that went into it and she was really struggling to find anything to criticize. “Perhaps adding some smoked paprika will help deepen the flavor and push the experience further along your tongue.”

As she had been in thought she hadn’t fully captured his reaction to her deviation moments later, instead he was rummaging around the pantry, emerging with several ingredients balanced in his arms. He slapped a slab of meat down onto the cutting board and with one motion she had her chin inclined in concentration as she moved around the corner to take her place at her station, next to the second cutting board that he was presumed to be using.

“Yes Chef.”, her nimble fingers reached for one of the knives in the block in front of her, scanning over the handles for a few seconds before drawing out a large clever-like knife, only this had a more rounded tip to easily convert to chopping. Sleeves already rolled up to her elbows and her bright blonde hair usually out of the way she set to work breaking down the slab of meat - first into quarter inch slices until she could stack the slices into smaller stacks and she began her fast criss cross cutting method as he began to speak. At their close proximity the conversation was kept low enough for only their ears - he didn’t want to celebrate… - she kept her eyes on the knife, no reaction. He further outlined his reasoning and an old spark of irritation sprang up in her chest - Tsk. Foolish Kaito! - the sharper burning smell of the onion being cut into thin julienne slices broke through her internal disapproval.

Not attempting to look at him she would address his comments and his question with some of her own, “All you did today was prove you are capable and level headed. All you did today was show how your personal brand of training has paid off exceptionally well as it usually does -”, she suddenly chopped down harder than intended, lodging the tip of the knife into the corner of the cutting board and turning her haughty expression on him - “All you did today was prove to those foolish enough to doubt you how wrong they were.” She blinked, in a bit of surprise at her own intensity before clearing her throat and returning her gaze to the neat pile of perfectly diced meat in front of her - “What brings me here is you, Kaito, I’m here to offer my teaching ability. I was in the crowd with other Jounin and I truly think they aren’t a good fit to teach you, they just don’t understand how to get through your thick skull.” Her offer was a serious one regardless of her light hearted jab at him near the end.

In their years apart her mentality had definitely changed, in her youth she was his bitter rival - challenging him on everything he did wielding this ability over him at every turn… but years had passed and she had struggled to find a way to mend a relationship she was unsure was mend able.

[WC 912]
[TWC 1575]

Sun May 17, 2020 5:35 pm

Having extended the spoon towards Katsumi, the redhead half expected her to pick it off his hand and take it on her own, without paying too much attention to it. However, the blonde took Kaito's rough hand in her hand's silky embrace, then leaning forward to drink the watery base of the soup. The proximity bothered Kaito, who was not accustomed to physical contact at all, much less the contact of Katsumi. Warmth emanated from her skin on the points where it came in contact with Kaito's, washing his entire arm and being with an unfamiliar warm sensation of connectedness. The redhead was used to women trying their wiles on him to get their way, regardless of how ineffective they always were, and he was no stranger to their touch, but somehow it felt different when Katsumi touched him, in a seemingly innocent manner.

Having disposed of the spoon in the meantime before reaching the pantry, he pondered on the smoked paprika suggestion. The spice would likely improve the flavor of the soup itself, lightening it and allowing it to float in the taste buds for longer, making it richer. In spite of her impressive ninja career, Katsumi seemed to have kept her culinary edge. He had been too quick to judge her, as he always did; he still remembered the first time he had met her, how he wondered why a child was allowed in the kitchen. That had been the first clash between the two temperaments. Small in stature she more than made up for it with a vast presence in the kitchen, and as a sponge she absorbed her father's inane knowledge of the gastronomical world, making it her own, sharpening it and focusing it, causing it to evolve. Kaito would take years to understand her father's decision to leave the restaurant to him instead of passing it to her.

When the two of them got together to slice their respective ingredients, Katsumi retorted to the question he posed regarding her presence in the shelter kitchens. Much as she tried to reign in her emotions, he doubted the knife's edge was that dull that she needed to force it so hard against the board to part the smoked meat; and yet, her words resonated within him. Kaito liked to believe he was a realist, not a pessimist, and yet, when it came to his own prowess and capacities, he was much harsher than his teachers or superiors had ever been. But the last person he expected to hear any encouragement and compliments from was Katsumi, who for a moment sounded a lot like her father when the elder tried to encourage Kaito to believe in himself, or when he egged him on to pursue his objectives, albeit she was herself too much to truly allow her parent's light to shine through. Their relationship had not been the best; as far as he could tell, she resented him for what he believed was a perceived intrusion of her reign, and yet, to hear her speaking of his accomplishments and how his training had paid off felt… out of place.

She herself appeared to be surprised at her speech, given the pause and cleared throat; she had turned to him to tell him how anyone who had doubted him had been proved wrong. Kaito's confusion could scarcely be hidden by his attempts at remaining cryptic, and he stared her down with his two tomoed sharingan, her every motion enhanced by the magnificent gift of the Uchiha. He realized he was gawking at the lass, and turned back to his onions. They were now ready to be dumped into the soup along with the meat, and he motioned as much to Katsumi; he had no intentionnepof leaving either meat or onion spongy and flaccid, and as such he had reserved until now to add them. They would add flavor to the soup, as well as consistency, and he wanted them to be felt under the bite rather than melting in one's mouth. For those who inhabited the shelters, chewing on food would give them the impression they ate more than they really did, and would give them a good sensation.

Katsumi then offered her services as a jounin, which she believed would benefit Kaito much more than any other candidate for she knew him better than others; this much was true. If anyone would know how to deal with Kaito, it would be Katsumi. They went back years and years of working in her father's kitchen. The offer was very good: he'd be able to learn, with someone he was familiar with, and who knew best how to get to him. So why did it feel so wrong?

Kaito waited for Katsumi to dump the meat into the pot, and beckoned the pantry with his head. "Fetch me some paprika, it should be with the other jars in the middle." In the meantime, he prepared another pot where he'd boil the eggs.

All the while, the gears within Kaito's head slowly turned. Why was she truly here… now?

If and when she returned with paprika, he would test the waters for something he felt was not right. "You never asked me about your father's restaurant, Katsumi."

Wc: 876
Twc: 2254

Wed May 20, 2020 8:33 pm

The look of confusion was evident on the familiar face, years had passed and he seemed to be accurate to her memory - harsh eyes softening at the edges as he is initially taken aback - as his two tomoed eyes gawking down at her for a moment too long before turning hurriedly back to the onions he had finished seconds before her outburst of opinion. She set her shoulders back as her eyebrows scrunched together slightly in irritation - it would be just like Kaito to avoid answering her outright - hesitant.

Taking a deep breath she bit the very tip of her tongue as she pulled the struggling burst of anger to flow from her, that would be going against all the tutelage her Sensei had bestowed upon her - ‘Control was more accurate’, the sharp whisper at the back of her conscious mind hissed after the initial thought. Having ‘mixed thoughts’ towards others was how Katsumi’s mind worked - a well versed inner dialogue circling itself maddeningly as she contemplated the trustworthiness of those around her. Kaito was the reason this mindset manifested itself, when her father gave the restaurant she had grown up in over to Kaito instead of his own daughter, that day was the day the harsh duality was born - everyone was now up for debate.

To the outside world she was trusting and warm, inviting in nature and understanding in tone; … perhaps she had hoped her reputation alone would have persuaded him more, but the shift in his tone of voice and body language told her that he was drawing into himself to pinpoint the reason for his uncertainty. She was motioned to introduce her diced meat pile into the stew pot, the tension momentarily dispelled as she shifted back into the culinary world, quickly moving into action and adding her portion. ‘Going with my idea, good.’ , she turned on the ball of her feet and entered the pantry area and browsed for a fraction of a second before locating the saturated red seasoning - returning to his side she would add in 3 and a half pinch fulls without needing direction or prompting.

Her eyes were cast down at her hands that she was now wiping off on a nearby towel that had been hanging to dry from the lunch shifts dishes when he asked the question. Knowing full well the precision of detail his eyes could glean from her she kept her shoulders relaxed, her hands moving rhythmically in between the towel and her breathing even. ‘He knows.’ was her knee jerk thought - the same cruel hiss echoing in her mind - which was almost immediately qualm-ed by her calmer trained mind rising to the surface and taking control. She let out a soft laugh that would make her shoulders raise along with the trill as she raised her ruby red eyes to meet his tamoed ones briefly - she had contemplated activating her own eyes but it would be a dead giveaway. Tilting her head off to the left side, her lips would lower in mock contemplation, eyes following their motion as she now starred at the space in the center of his chest - “I figured it was a sore subject at the best of times, plus what is there to ask about? I read the news articles written about the event, not to mention father makes a big deal of it at least once a month.” A cautious look would flit across her eyes as she stared him now full in the face, his two tomoed gaze met with the familiar confident bloody pools he has spent years under.

“You disappeared for several years after that event… some people suggest that it was… you who set it on fire..”, her voice trailed off at the end as she seemed to contemplate aloud, not a full accusation but enough to cast a wide enough net to determine what exactly he knew all while giving her a built in emotional alibi. "Those were just rumors though.", she released his gaze and hung the towel back up, smoothing it out on the hook before turning back to him; arms crossed behind her back casually.

[WC 694]
[TWC 2269]

Sun May 24, 2020 4:03 pm

When Kaito spoke, he half expected a reaction from her. After all, he brought up a sensitive topic to surface: he was well aware that Kastumi did not take lightly to the passing down of the restaurant to him. And yet, she didn’t react at all. Or perhaps, more accurately, her reaction was to not react at all. The Sharingan, at this stage, would’ve been able to perceive any fluctuations on her motions, and yet she kept her composure even after his comment; she either boasted incredible self-control, or she had grown beyond the grudges of the past. Kaito was unable to tell which was which, but he doubted she had just given up on a grudge just like that… more like she was just a very successful kunoichi.

An amused burst of laughter shook her figure lightly, and this the Sharingan captured immaculately, the crimson pools of oxygenated blood from her eyes meeting Kaito’s mirror, lacking only tomoes to be copies of his. She spoke with a contemplative look on her face, while Kaito looked on with a blank expression, as though he meant nothing by the comment. News article and a mention from her father once a month, was it? Her eyes went from his chest to his gaze, and he curled his lip into the faintest smirk as though he understood her reasoning. Meanwhile, the river of information she gave willingly and unwillingly beckoned the mill within his mind into motion, turning the gears of his paranoia into action, and as a mask for this deception, he picked the spoon and gently mixed the spice into the remainder of the soup so as to allow the flavor to meet the other components.

He raised his eyebrows at the mention of the rumors about him setting the fire, eyes on the soup. “Yeah”, he started, drawing in breath and exhaling sharply. “People did say that even after I returned. But on the day I found out about the fire, I caught the guy responsible for it. Kuro Tanaka, a former team mate of mine. Ever met him?” Kaito turned to face Katsumi and let the question linger for a few seconds before proceeding. “After my team broke up, he fell in with some bad crowd… they hired him to burn down the restaurant so I would be accused of self-sabotaging and not pay me insurance.” He turned his gaze back to the soup, clanking the spoon on the side of the pot so as to let the soup cook in peace. “I was so infuriated, I didn’t even pursue the case through the legal system. It's one of my faults, I usually do things and then I think about them.” He leaned against a counter, crossing his arms on his chest, and turned to face Katsumi. “I just hunted Kuro down and murdered him on the beach where he tried to escape. Collected the bounty on his head, and went to visit my old house. I needed to get myself together, figure out what I could do.” A faint smile played along his lips as he spoke. “So, I just wanted to let you know that, I’m sorry for what happened, and that I allowed the restaurant to burn down like that. Your father sacrificed a lot and it seems I wasted that opportunity.” He chuckled. “But, if you’re willing to put this sore subject behind us… I’m game. I’ll take you up on your offer.” He pushed himself off the counter, and approached Katsumi, extending his right hand towards her as to shake her own hand. “Water under the bridge?” The last comment was meant as a truce, considering their past it should be quite obvious.

If there was one thing Kaito seemed to be good at, it was at being a machiavellian individual. His teaching experience had gone terribly wrong, half of his team dead, one by his own hand, and secrecy and deception was all his brief time as a jounin had afforded him. Perhaps he was meant to be shrouded in deceit, and he would extend this shroud between the re-established relationship with Katsumi.

wc :690
twc: 2944

Sat May 30, 2020 8:18 pm

He had turned away from her now, eyes intent on the soup and spoon in hand, the smallest frown graced her lips as her eyes bore into the back of his head - willing it to reveal more than he was willing to say aloud. The expression would have already passed before he had turned to address her again - his sharp exhale being the trigger to return her face to an inquisitive and contemplative mask facade. She had leaned back against the wall casually, her legs sticking out in a relaxed fashion as she listened to his explanation.

Kuro Tanaka. She knew the name, and she even knew of his proximity socially with Kaito… it had been one of the reasons she had ensured he was one of the men who was set to do the task. Katsumi was nothing if not thorough. As he turned her eyes softened in sadness and her eyebrows drew together in a perfectly sculpted expression of worry and sincere emotion. “I can’t say it rings a bell -” she would bring her right hand up to her chest as he continued his story, selling her emotions with trained accuracy. She watched as he turned away once more to check the soup, her expression non-changing in the few moments, now he was leaning on a counter top as she was leaning against the wall - facing one another as the final pieces of his story came together. “Oh… Kaito I’m so sorry that's… that's not fair you had to go through so much heartache in such a short period of time.”, her tone was gentle and sincere with a grounded understanding of how something of those magnitudes would do to someone.

Always one for the short game though Kaito. The voice hissed its approval of his rash decision of revenge, though the much quieter part of her wondered somberly if he had interrogated without expressly admitting so. Her mental checklist gained another checklist as she now knew what he knew - and as long as he was being truthful, of which his body language did not discredit in any way, then she was in no way related to the event. Red crimson eyes flashed down to the floor as his apology washed over her ears, an exhausted gentle sigh leaving her before she returned her gaze back to his - “Everything worth having comes with a cost doesn’t it? Who’s to say this couldn’t have happened whether my father was in control or not, defamation of name and character can be just as detrimental to my father as it was to you. So no apologies on this night, remember we are to be celebrating a successful exam.” Her eyes glittered with the hint of tears, taking a sharp breath in she would seem to return her calm as she extended her hand out to his larger one and took it, shaking it with force that her size wouldn’t bring to mind. “Water under the bridge.”, a rickety bridge, “Don’t think I’ll go easy on you either, just so you know.”

Releasing his hand she walked over to the pot and stared into the large pool of simmering liquid, the aroma wafting up pleasantly and steaming her face a little, “It's time Kaito, the heavy cream.”, reaching her hand back she would wait for the carton to be placed in her waiting palm before opening it and pouring until the color was pleasing to her eyes. A lifetime of cooking had granted her this ability to cook with very little measuring needed, if ever, ‘intuitive cooking’ was what her father had called it. Something that just can’t be taught outright, always something nurtured from within… “So,”, she said turning to him with a smug look on her face, “are you going to get us some bowls so we can set some aside for ourselves before we serve them?” She gestured to the now nearly filled room full of an array of faces all anxiously whispering to one another - ‘Isn’t that the famous Nakiri?’ ‘No! What would she be doing here?’ ‘And with the red head… he looms over her-’ - she cleared her throat to push the questioning voices to the back of her mind as she refocused on Kaito’s answer.

[709]
[TWC 2978]

Thu Jun 18, 2020 4:31 pm

Kunoichi could get almost as much done with sheer jutsu activation as much as they could do with their theatrics, perhaps more than a shiboni would be able to do unless they were exquisite actors, and Katsumi was both a kunoichi and an exquisite actress. If not for Kaito's lingering first impression of the girl and a resilient resistance to the wiles of the girl, he might've fallen prey to the emotional response she wove throughout his speech, all of which was registered with the chakra hungry sharingan that refused to be deactivated due to Kaito's inability to awaken the Uchiha genetics within himself, at least whenever he chanced a glance at her between looking at the soup. Brows furrowed in worry, a hand to the chest. She could pass for an actual human being, he thought, but his opinion had not changed, perhaps it was now more solidified than before: she had become not a great ninja, but a formidable one. What else was more evident of a ninja's skill if not their ability to deceive? To look weak when strong, and to look strong when weak. To feign emotion to gain sympathy and lower defenses, or withhold emotion so as to not betray vulnerabilities.

To forgive so as to keep your enemies close, or to hold a grudge in order to protect your loved ones.

The mood in the kitchen certainly appeared dissonant. Both ninja drew the other closer, just as a means to reduce the distance needed to draw a blade on the other. And if she was intent on appearing genuine, she was at the most dangerous, and she would understand that Kaito's little song was as void of melody as hers. Kaito detested mind games, there was a reason why he despised genjutsu and even ignored ninjutsu in favor of sheer physical dominance, none of which would help him in his current predicament.

And yet, when she spoke, there were hints of genuine emotion, spoken in a soothing way that reminded Kaito of what care and concern felt like, embracing him phonetically and holding him warmly. He smiled at her comforting words, and nodded his head lightly. The emphasis on celebrating his victory rang hollow, though; no matter how much she insisted that it showcased his triumph over those who doubted him, he still felt self-conscious of the brutality of his victory, accentuated by the age difference between himself and the two other kids, further cementing the sensation that he was a failure from the get go to only now achieve something and no less than at the expense of those younger than him.

Her handshake was vigorous for one of such small stature, but didn't phase Kaito in the slightest. His calloused hands barely felt the pressure, and they may have been a little dirty from cooking, but at least the bright oxygenated blood of the young Senju no longer stained his hand and forearm. However, time for niceties was over, and it was time for the heavy cream, as per her initial suggestion. He grabbed it from the pantry post-haste and delivered the carton to her hand, his crimson eye following her inquisitive expression as she eyeballed the amount necessary to bring the soup together, a tremendous skill she appeared to have innately and which Kaito required years to acquire, another reason why he always detested people born with gifts handed down by life. Never had he ever considered his capacity to overcome challenges as his own born with skill: he always felt that was his decision each and every time.

People had started walking in when she commented about bowls; her fame preceded her at every turn, whereas Kaito was only ever the red headed, the fake Uzumaki who could barely perform basic ninjutsu, let alone tap into the potential sealing techniques of the clan he had no claim to. The sentiment left a sour taste in his mouth, one he would rather erase with liquor than with soup. "Perhaps another time", he started. He pulled at the apron strings knotted behind his back, loosening the grip around his waist, before removing the apron from his neck, getting it high enough to go around his mane. "I'm not that hungry anyway. 'Twas a long day, and I'm guessing the days will be longer now that I'm your charge", he said with a coy smile. Putting the apron down, he waved his hand at Katsumi, and made his way out of the kitchen. "Send me a message when we're supposed to train. Be seein' ya!"

As he took off from the kitchen and into the brisk bite of the cool night's air, his expression of satisfaction dropped into one of intense concentration, as he fell into a solid stride down the street and into his place of residence. His mind fervently worked to figure out why: why did Katsumi return now into his life, why was she so interested in training him? Why would she forgive him for the loss of the restaurant, instead of plotting revenge against him? Was this her plan? To take him under her wing, train him, and eventually murder him outside of the village gates or the country borders?

With each step, the light from the lamp posts played along the features of his figure, illuminating his body as he stood closer and closer to the lamp, and washing him in shade as he stood underneath it and walked away. Between the waving of the light in between steps, the tomoe of Kaito’s crimson eye drew closer together at the bottom; at the top of the eye, just above the pupil, the iris bubbled with darkness, and a third tomoe drew light into its abyss to better observe the world as perceived by Noboru Kaito.

wc: 967
twc: 3911
/exit
Claiming 78AP
147 words towards Sound Wave Technique, bringing new total to 1000
170 towards Counterstrike, bringing new total to 1500
2000 towards Metal Crusher
1500 towards B-Rank Split Second
94 words towards Mangekyou Sharingan, bringing new total to 2844/8000