chapter seventeen

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chapter seventeen
the dull ache
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You had never seen your Piano Sensei look as she did then. The moment she walked in through the doorway and saw you, her eyes shone with tears and her whole body seemed to shiver. She also seemed suddenly a bit older than usual, which at the same time, wasn't that unusual at all as she did look a bit older than she was. Nevertheless, you felt odd as she walked towards you in brisk steps, and enveloped you in a tight hug. You held her close, even as you noticed that your teacher had combed her spiky hair for once, had put in earrings, and was wearing heels. She didn't at all seem like the Piano Sensei you usually visited to study, and you weren't quite sure what to make of this peculiar change.

You were embarrassed, but pleased by the show of affection.

When she told her son to get his sister, Kuroo complied with a salute and a "yes, ma'am" as he sauntered towards the door and up the stairs. Kenma rolled his eyes at the sight, and you let out a nervous giggle, and fidgeted a bit.

Kenma tossed you a glance, studied you a minute, then said, "Stop shaking. It's weird."

In your head, you agreed with him, of course you did, because it actually was weird, not just in general (that, too), but more so weird for your character. Health reasons aside, you were not a shaker. Taking  a deep breath, you pushed these thoughts away to focus on your teacher again. You were a guest here (although a voice in your head told you that you more so resembled a parasite), and you didn't want to appear rude, or ungrateful.

Your Piano Sensei grinned broadly as all of you sat down at the table. She sat at the head of the table, with Kuroo beside her on one side, and you beside Kuroo, and Kazashi beside her on the other, with Kenma beside her. Kenma looked tired, Kuroo looked relaxed in a somehow amused manner, and Kazashi, stretching, looked proud. She had been the one to cook, after all.

There was a lot of food on the table, and right in front of you, steaming hot, there was a huge plate of Yakitori, the bite-sized cuts of chicken grilled on a skewer. Kuroo sent you a look when he saw you glance around in bewilderment, especially when your gaze caught on the foreign dishes. There were two wooden bowls of Jiâozi, and Kazashi had eagerly lifted off the cover, so that the smell of the boiled dumplings came wafting in your direction. If you had to guess, you would say the first bowl, the boiled one, was filled with minced pork, while the second, the steamed bowl, was filled with various vegetables.

Your gaze moved onward. There was also the traditional miso soup placed right in front of you to the left, and your particular bowl was topped with wakame seaweed. Kazashi and Kuroo both had green onions as their toppings, while Kenma had no topping, and your Piano Sensei had added firm tofu to the mix.

Everyone had little bowls of rice in front of them, and there were various options on what you could add to your bowl. Shrimp, vegetables, egg and green onion, and lots and lots of mushrooms, cooked in a delicate style. You eyed the small tomatoes, wrapped in beef slices as thin as paper, and drizzled in a green sauce.

There was so much, an amazing assortment of traditional and modern food, foreign (mostly Chinese) and from home. Some foods were fried, some pickled, some boiled, and some roasted. Kazashi had by the looks of it used fresh greens only, and there was aubergine, there were radishes, and sesame seeds, too.

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