[He had a feeling Fudou would say that. He seemed like the kind of person who didn't really care what he ate, as long as it was food. Maybe not the best mentality for an athlete, in Hakuryuu's opinion, but it does make the hints of a smile show at the edges of his lips. It's not a conscious move, and if you brought it to his attention it would disappear as quickly as it came, but that smile lingers for a little while longer as he sets his bowl down, completely clean and chopsticks lying across the bowl's opening.

Fudou not having any dislikes makes it easy. He can't mess up if he chooses something.]

I've never cooked, either. So...we'll both be new at that, I guess.

..


[He catches his own warm tone, the low, subtle way his voice suddenly showed affection and attachment to the idea of making a meal with this man. And like a skittish cat, he bounds away from that, offering silently to help clean up the table at the very least.]

I.

I should get to bed. Thank you for the meal, Fudou-san.

[The meal. He was still too scared to thank him for his hospitality. 'Adopted' was too strong a word. It was physical, and that scared him most of all, because putting a word to that suddenly made it tangible. Real.

Breakable.]