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15.SWEET TASTE
*⋆｡˚𖦹࣪˖ ִֶָ⋆｡°✩
VICTORY
always tastes like the sweetest of wines, your father would always tell you. You had never really spent all that much time with him—because he was always working so hard. But you treasured those small, yet meaningful conversations you two would have when your mother was out doing something somewhere, and it was way past your bedtime. You would listen, a pillow under your stomach, as your father told you a fairytale, a past event that happened to him, or even just a piece of life advice that would stick with you for the rest of your life.
You treasured those small moments—and you would remember this forever. You decided it. Food was laid out on the small table, and everyone was busy preparing this victory feast, to celebrate the efforts each of you made to win the match. You set down a plate of sliced watermelon, and it isn't too long before grabby hands start to reach for it. You slap Bachira's hand away, a pointed glare fixed on him.
"No. Bad Bachira."
He rubs his hand, sniffing and shedding crocodile tears that make you turn your head away and shut your eyes. "[name]... is still so cruel!"
"We're all supposed to be eating at the same time, you know." You let out a heavy breath, then, with exhausted eyes, you turn around and look at how nearly everyone's already eating their own food, "but... I guess that's not going to happen."
You don't resist the second time Bachira starts munching on a piece of the fruit. Isagi places a hand on your shoulder and gives you an apologetic smile, something you return in kind. It's a strange sense of comfort—something you didn't expect to come from somebody like Isagi.
Pillows fly between Igaguri and Imamura, and are only stopped when Iemon scolds them both like the father figure he is, slapping Igaguri's bald head and tugging his ear, "Stop it, both of you! Help us set up for the victory feast!"
"Yeah, you slackers," Chigiri says, incredibly hypocritically with a mouth full of steak. You almost snort at him, and you have to cover your mouth and hide your face when he glares at you.
Kunigami leans down, a sheet slung over his shoulder, with a teasing smirk, "Eating a little early, aren't we?" Chigiri only hums in response, still chewing with as much grace as you've ever seen somebody chew before.
"Can somebody grab some drinks from the cafeteria?" Kuon asks. Bachira, Isagi and you decide to go—since you did feel you had a sense of obligation to at least do something after they quite literally just saved your career.
