Preserved food was anything but new to Zidane: only this particular process was new. It didn’t make much sense, so in Zidane’s opinion— it’s a stupid method. Glass jars and wooden crates were designed to be opened. A tin with no hinges, no lid, not even air holes.. If he was left to his own plans, he’d have gone to any length to test just how ‘indestructable’ the can is.
It was an intriguing plan, one that would have to be tested at another time. Zidane handed the tin over to Hook, half-expecting to tell the man that said tin couldn’t be opened at all. As it turned out, that shiny hook served more as just something flashy. He took back the can and stared at its contents. “There prob’ly is one, and I just didn’t recognise it. “ The teenager set aside his sandwich, paused, then he placed the tin alongside the sandwich too, freeing both hands.
Pulling off both gloves, Zidane left them atop the same cabinet with his small food hoard. “Unsavoury? Nothing’s really stood out to me.. apart from this whole place.” He picked up the can and took out a few pieces of fruit, which were basically swimming in juice. “I don’t know how good your memory is, but the food.. there was more of it around, wasn’t there? If I had taken this can a week ago, there’d be another one just like it, in its place. What’s up with that?”