Erwin spends his days with his teacher and guardian in a little garden outside of common space and time. A curse has affected his teacher, and would take away his sight in the near future. This approaching blindness, along with his teacher's long bu...
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"Do you still remember how all plants have scientific names, and proper titles, and designations? This tree doesn't," his Teacher chuckled, his hand falling to his lap. "But if you must know, I call it Flügel."
Erwin led his Teacher through the halls, taking extra careful steps when they crossed the pool of water, and when they entered the kitchen. He had him sit at the table, pouring him a cup of tea ー a mix of ginger, and chamomile, and peppermint ー before grabbing the pot of stew.
"Thank you," his Teacher said, lifting the cup. He didn't drink, or even sip, and instead just held it in his hand, letting the steam waft over him.
"Don't mention it," Erwin muttered, chopping up the beef. He set a few pieces on the pan, and let them roast. He stirred the stew, making sure that it didn't burn, and after a minute or two, he served it in a bowl.
There were a lot of eggs in the fridge. Maybe he could fry them and place them on the stew, would they go well together? There are pieces of sausages, too. Or should he just stick to the stew, and the beef, and save the rest for later?
He decided to fry the eggs, and cut the sausages into... what was it called again? Octopus? Yeah, he'd cut them into octopus shapes. That sounded fun.
As he was finishing, his Teacher rose to his feet, and wandered over. He took a seat on one of the stools, and his hand reached out, his finger lightly poking the boy's side.
"I don't remember needing this much time to reheat stew- oh, is that eggs? I haven't had those in a while," the man commented.
"Yep, and I'm going to shape a couple of sausages into octopuses," Erwin replied, sliding the eggs into their bowls. He grabbed the pieces of sausage, and arranged them, trying to make the shapes as accurate as possible.
"Octopi. They're called octopi," his Teacher corrected him.
"Is that- is that really important right now?"
"I don't know. Is it?"
"Not really, no," the boy muttered, rolling his eyes. He fried the sausages, then divided the portions equally for the two of them. Erwin took his time setting the table, making sure to place the cutlery and the plates at the right spot, before serving the food.
"Beef stew, with a fried egg and sausages..." His Teacher murmured, reaching for his spoon and dipping it into the bowl. "How nostalgic."
"Nostalgic?" Erwin repeated, scooping a spoonful of the stew. He blew on it, his breath cooling the mixture. "You had this before?"
"This was the first dish I'd made for you, when I met you on the flower bed," the man explained, his lips curling. He seemed a little distracted, and a bit far away, and his tone was wistful.
