Foundations
Just a story I rattled off while suffering from Waiting-for-next-chapter syndrome. First piece I've posted here, but I have read almost all of the fanfiction under Toriko and damn does the fan base feels tiny! This one's dedicated to two authors- (I'm sad I haven't talked to you guys!) Dreaming of Everything and latenightiridescence.
Drop me a review, readers, if you want to say anything!
P.S. My personal opinion is that Toriko is not a one-dimensional character. Komatsu has a humanising effect on Toriko's personality, so I think it's natural that he has developed a level of emotional awareness, working in sync with his obsession over food. I like to regard it as one of the forces continuously driving him to greater heights. Below, I've tried to explore Toriko's state of mind a little, as it feels slightly glossed over in the manga (doesn't mean it's not there!)- there are rumours that Shima-san isn't very comfortable scripting emotional, introspective content.
P.P.S. It feels a little on the fluffy side. Please don't vomit on me through your screens. =) Oh, and ignore my micro-vent in the middle of the story- I had to release some steam. Sorry!
"Toriko-san?" Komatsu's voice piped up in the gloom, sounding small in the shadows of the candle-lit room.
"Mhmm?" The blue-haired Bishokuya's eyes opened, realising his right leg was getting numb from being propped up as he dozed. Lazily letting his lower body succumb to gravity, Toriko shifted his posture on the futon, succeeding in only further entangling himself in twisted sheets. As he gave up trying to find the ends of the blanket, in the weary state that he currently was, the man became aware of Komatsu, staring intently at him, sitting upright. Turning his head, Toriko's eyes met his partner's. "What's the matter, Komatsu?"
The comparatively miniscule chef seemed to be startled, an involuntary, stunned look crossing his face, as if he had just been woken from a reverie. The moment that emotion disappeared, Komatsu broke eye contact with Toriko, staring down into his lap, calloused hands fidgeting. A sense of doubt seemed to emanate in waves from his body language; Toriko could almost smell it. Suddenly, Komatsu lifted up his head, a glint in his eyes, a crinkle appearing on his forehead. He forced himself to look Toriko in the eye, mouth opening as he seemed ready to finally let loose some worry gnawing at his mind.
Promptly, the chef's resolve faltered, uncharacteristic of his usual passionate, steely attitude once his sights were set. Komatsu's mouth clenched and he reflexively shut his eyes. Out of the blue, tears of frustration squeezed themselves from his lids.
Even Toriko, who was used to the teary outbursts of his combo, was taken aback. For once unsure of what was going through Komatsu's normally simplistic mind, the Bishokuya shifted from his futon, moving closer to the silently crying chef (another strangely concerning difference). Toriko stretched out his arms, moving to comfort him, but something made him re-consider. Instead of hurling himself into the man's embrace, as was typical, his partner made no move- he didn't even seem to acknowledge the smaller distance between himself and Toriko. Genuinely a little worried now, the Bishokuya sat up, exhaustion slowly lifting from his body with each passing second. "Tell me what's wrong, Komatsu." When that didn't elicit much of a response, he tried again, with more intention this time. "Trust me like ya always have. I get worried too, y'know." Toriko paused for a moment. "Komatsu, talk to me."
The chef's sobs seemed to subside, teary eyes opening to stare apprehensively at the Bishokuya's earnest expression. He finally spoke. "Th…there's just so much at…at stake. I haven't b-bothered to say anything about it until now because I was scared…so scared that it wouldn't w-work out, and then everything would go to p-pieces. I…I was always secretly hopeful, but it's o-only been through the last f-few days of training with you, with F-Food Honor, that I've felt this…this desperation, this want for some…some form of reassurance. I just…" As if the plug had been pulled on a bathtub full of water, the suppressed thoughts of Komatsu poured out, glugging in a cascade, broken off at the end by an abrupt hiccup. Komatsu's expression became downcast once more, a guilty look in his eyes and a slight red tinge creeping into his cheeks.
