Happy For House Help | A Genmui Fanfic

Donburi Bowl

Genya found himself in an awkward position, perched uncomfortably at the dining table alongside Kafo and Muichiro. The married couple, in a united front, occupied one side, while Genya sat somewhat isolated on the opposite end of the opulent table. The air hung heavy with an unrelenting silence, casting a stifling atmosphere that only served to amplify the tension in the room.

Kafo stared at Genya intensely, waiting for him to look up from his lap that he seemed to survey with sophistication. With hands expertly intertwined and poised on the table, he exuded a professional air. Impatience manifested in the subtle sound of teeth being sucked as he found it increasingly challenging to capture Genya's attention.

"Genya," He finally spoke up, gaining the taller ones eye contact in response. "People usually ask for food around this time,"

Apprehension coursed through every vein in Genya's body as he absorbed the chilling sentence. The mere idea of consuming anything from that dwelling felt perilous. Kafo's articulation of it alone was sufficient to cast Genya into a state of skepticism. He pondered how he could possibly find his way out of the situation. However, no plan decent enough came to mind.

"A donburi bowl, or miso soup?" Kafo asked, relaxing the tension in his arms. "Pick one,"

"Doesn't matter,"

"Pick one,"

Muichiro recoiled, feeling a surge of intensity in his husband's voice. The unfolding situation, particularly the harsh exchange between his husband and Genya, became unbearable for him to witness. A profound sense of guilt gripped him as he considered the possibility that he might be responsible for the turmoil. The weight of this guilt settled in, lingering and allowing him to fully absorb the profound emotions it carried.

Amidst the turmoil of Muichiro's guilt, Genya remained resolute in his silence. His piercing gaze, infused with a violet intensity, bore into Kafo, radiating a tempest of animosity. Kafo reciprocated with a stare that grew more intense with each passing moment. The escalating tension reached a breaking point, prompting Muichiro to recognize that he could no longer endure the unfolding conflict. He felt compelled to put an end to the senseless standoff, by whatever means necessary.

"It's totally fine if you can't decide," He apprehensively reassured Genya while rising from his chair. "I can go make some donburi,"

Kafo nodded in approval, watching as his husband went off to prepare some food. Noticing this, Muichiro released a sigh of relief. After all, he was speaking without being asked once again. He wasn't fully aware of him doing it until he was, and the thought of him being horrified after the realization was definitely an understatement. Tolerating Muichiro's unsolicited input was a rarity for his husband, making these moments particularly noteworthy.

"You really don't have to do this," Genya whispered as he brushed past him.

Muichiro somberly absorbed every uttered word, yet steadfastly resisted the urge to cast a glance behind him. The remorseful undertones in the taller figure's voice lingered in the air, almost palpable. Whether it was the unwarranted presence of Genya, the vigilant gaze of Kafo, or the internal surge of guilt, Muichiro pressed forward, unwilling to dwell on the specifics. Whatever the catalyst, it was official; an unspoken rule had been established. Muichiro was resolute in his commitment to uphold it, never allowing its boundaries to be breached.

Shortly after excusing himself, Muichiro reappeared bearing two steaming bowls of donburi. Wisps of smoke gracefully rose from the perfectly cooked grains of rice, retaining warmth all the way from the base where Muichiro's hand had been. His composure remained unfazed, as if the heat and friction were mere trifles. In the blink of an eye, Genya and Kafo were presented with a culinary masterpiece, a savory offering that effortlessly diffused the mounting tension at the table.