Tenten yelped as she tried to rescue the fish from the skillet, before finally regaining her wits enough to use a pair of chopsticks to pick it off the fire. But it was too late. Her twelfth attempt at making nishin lay forlornly on the ceramic plate, burnt to an unrecognizable black piece of charcoal. She flung away her apron in frustration and stalked out of the kitchen for a distraction, mumbling about all the trouble and that it was simply not worth it.
She returned in front of the stove not five minutes later.
Leaning so close to the recipe book open on the counter cluttered with bottles of condiments, bowls and ingredients that her nose almost touched the surface of the paper, Tenten frowned in concentration as she mixed more sugar, mirin, sake and soy sauce into a large shallow bowl before sliding her last herring into the seasoning. This had better work! Twenty minutes later, she removed the fish, now tinged with a light brown from the seasoning, onto the oiled rack again. "Ok, three minutes for one side, then flip it to the other side. After both sides are done, cover the fish with foil and allow to cook for four minutes more." She recited the recipe instructions by heart. Approaching this thirteenth attempt as though it were a sneaky enemy, Tenten set a tiny hourglass by the stove as the fish began to sizzle, releasing a delicate smoky aroma into the air. She flipped the fish to the other side when the sand had flowed entirely to the bottom of the contraption, and began the process again. "Ok, Tenten, you can do this! Just one more step to success!" When another three minutes had passed, Tenten swiftly reached for a piece of metal foil that she had finally had the insight to prepare before starting the grill and wrapped the now nicely- browned fish with it before returning it to the fire. Humming happily now, she opened the foil in anticipation after four minutes to see a perfectly grilled nishin lying in a small amount of gravy and dripping, its skin crisp and charred only at the marks left by the grill. The aroma that wafted out made Tenten beam in accomplishment, and when she lifted a piece of the tender white flesh to her mouth, she could not restrain a small dance of victory around the tiny kitchen. Now the only thing left to do was to repeat this feat on the actual day. Happy now that she had finally succeeded, she bustled around the kitchen, cleaning up the mess that she had created after a whole day of practice, a small smile dangling from her lips.
And she couldn't stop an excited grin from spreading across her face at Neji's expression of surprised pleasure when she slid a steaming bowl of nishin soba in front of him the next day, soba cooked just so, the clear soup a delicately flavoured piece of work, and the star of the show grilled so that the skin remained a crisp layer over tender white flesh that had absorbed all the goodness of seasoning. Moving to sit opposite him at the low table in her apartment, she observed him nervously as he picked up the ivory pair of chopsticks, said his greeting and tucked in, elegant fingers curved firmly around the bowl as he ate in silent elegance. When he finally put down the bowl again, Tenten was delighted to see that not a drop of broth remained. He reached for her clasped hands across the table, molding his warm palm against her knuckles. Their fingers linked tightly as they smiled at each other, his lips tilted up crookedly, while hers stretched wide in a vibrant beam.
"Happy birthday, Neji."