A heavy tension emanates from the men of the dai-gurren brigade as they sit quietly together, faces palid and eyes downcast. A large crashing sound coming from nearby causes a ripple of uneasiness to spread throughout the tightly knit group. Another sound, this time like a match falling onto a gasoline track causes Kittan to lurch forward. He makes a quick exit from the room, retreating to the far corners of the ship where the wise ones have already taken up residence. Simon remains in place as the others promptly follow Kittan's example.
"BOOM" - smoke sifts underneath the closed door as another explosion commences. A trickle of sweat runs down the side of the young digger's face as a cheerful voice hums along to her handiwork. A head of multicolored hair peaks out at Simon as the door slides open, a wide smile plays at her features, eyes bright and cheeks a rosy pink. A dab of flour clings to her cheek, a remnant of her "cooking".
"Simon!" Nia's sing-songy voice calls out, "It's almost ready!"
Turning on her heel, Nia disappears back into the kitchen without leaving Simon a moment to express his growing uneasiness. His stomach has become a battered, resilient warrior after all of Nia's meals. But this new found tolerance for her "food" is not enough to quail the fear associated with one of her "special recipes". Simon can only imagine what bizarre invention he will be consuming this time.
Covertly, Simon pushes the door open a crack, wedging it open and tip toeing inside. Only Nia's back is visible as she works over the counter on her creation. The warm scent of vanilla wafts through the air, much to Simon's astonishment.
Perhaps Nia has used a cook book this time?
His thought is cut short as Nia whips her head around.
"Simon!", she scolds, "I wanted it to be a surprise!"
Simon's eyes widen as he catches sight of the cake on the counter, coated in vanilla icing and appearing to be edible of all things!
A grin spreads over his face as he advances on the cake. nia intercepts his path however with a stern expression.
"Not yet Simon. Let's get everyone down here to have some too! I want the whole crew to enjoy my cake together!"
Nodding, Simon hurries out and down the hall, calling out to the crew members along the way.
A disgruntled looking Kittan stares at the slice of cake in front of him, eye twitching slightly, the picture of skepticism. Nia smiles brightly at the crew and waits patiently.
Slowly, a single man raises his fork. Shakily it rises, heading toward his open mouth as the crew waits with baited breath for the verdict.
Vanilla. Heavenly light vanilla icing brings a smile to Simon's face. A collective breath is released as the crew members reach for their own forks, eager now that danger has seemingly been averted. The poor souls.
Simon's eyes widen as an onslaught of flavors attack his unaccustomed pallet. Garlic, salt and something vaguely reminiscent of pineapple mingle together in his mouth. The cake itself has a strange texture on second inspection. There's something almost spongy about it, like too much water and not enough flour was used. That or something else entirely. Nia beams at him as he chokes down another bite of the bizarre "cake". Glancing around Simon is not surprised to find Kittan curled up in the fetal position on the ground muttering something about "Satan's cooking". Nia is oblivious to anyone but Simon as the other crew members slump in their chairs, faces taking on various shades of green.
Through all of this however, Simon's resolve will not waver. He can't bare to think of Nia's sadness if he were to express displeasure with the cake she spent hours constructing,
pouring her love and care into with earnest sincerity. His fork rises again, another bite. Another. He forces down the rest of the cake, grinning like a mad man all the while.
"That was great nia!" he assures the cheerful girl before him, "I've never eaten a cake so delicious before."
"Really?" she chirps, "shall I make another one? I think Yoko's birthday is coming up next month too!"
"S-sure Nia" Simon croaks out as the exuberant girl wraps her skinny arms around him in a vice-like hug. Poisoned, suffocated and more than a little green in the face,
Simon hugs Nia a little closer. A contented sigh escapes his lips. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad birthday after all. Some things are just worth it.