| [Oct. 19th, 2015|12:02 am] |
Ryouma beamed at Honoka. There was a looseness in his spine when he leaned over the counter that spoke of slightly too much to drink and not enough to eat beforehand. "Would it damage the charm if I ask when your shift ends?"
Katsuko made an exasperated noise and looped her arm through his. “Flirt later. Food now. Thanks, Honoka-san. We’ll stop by before we leave.”
She tugged Ryouma gently away from the bar while Honoka chuckled. Ryouma acquiesced with bad grace.
“I thought you were going to be my wingwoman,” he told Katsuko severely, as they made their way to the back of the restaurant. Kakashi, who had claimed a booth with the best vantage points, watched their approach with an unimpressed expression.
“I would be a bad wingwoman if I let you drink on an empty stomach,” Katsuko said. “Honoka works all night. I’ll give you back to her after you’re fed.”
He looked a little abashed. "I only meant to have one drink, while I waited. She mixes 'em strong, though. And you two took forever. What were you doing?"
“Kakashi is a delicate peony bud,” she informed Ryouma as they reached their booth. She stood aside to let Ryouma slide onto the bench first. “We went sword shopping, but we needed to stop to let him rest on the fainting couch.”
“Sword shopping?” Puzzlement clouded his brow before he made the connection. “Oh. To replace the one the demon broke?”
“There were no fainting couches,” Kakashi said, glowering across the table at Katsuko as she slid in next to Ryouma.
“Whatever you say, my little ice cream spoon.” She hadn’t told Ryouma about teaching Kakashi Hyoho Niten, she realized, with a touch of worry. Teammates were supposed to talk about these kinds of things; the last thing she wanted was for Ryouma to feel excluded because of her lack of communication. He’d given her nothing but warmth and camaraderie since their first day as Team Six. The thought of alienating him, even by accident, made anxiety stir in her chest.
She shook her head. No need to borrow trouble. She’d get her boys fed, first, and then lay everything out on the table with the food when it arrived.
“Their beef short rib skewers are good,” she said, flipping through the menu even though she knew it by heart. “The chicken’s my favorite, though. You want anything besides meat on a stick, Tousaki?”
He didn’t even pretend to look at the menu. “Do they do enoki-maki?”
Katsuko’s stomach growled. “Yes,” she said emphatically, and flagged down a waiter. “Get two orders. No, three.” |
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