Renge is a dish best served hot
A/N: I know it's a weird title – it was a accidental typo i had in the draft for „Revenge is a dish best served cold" and a plot bunny started nagging. I really have to get them caged. Also, I think I overstepped my vocabulary boundaries, so I would appreciate feedback if there is any weirdness in the descriptions. Maybe I should make myself something to eat, too. Excuse the randomness and enjoy – maybe?
Food was a rather two-sided topic in his life.
On the one hand, he had no particular passion for it, but he knew the necessity. He enjoyed the quiet quality of a traditional breakfast and appreciated the preparation of the day. He took it as rite, and during the day, as a reminder of how humanity was bound to what the earth offered. He enjoyed the simple tastes that each element would bring out. He didn't feel the need for any fancy food, or for spending more time on cooking it than on eating it. He didn't need elaborate decorations, when the simple ingredients would speak for themselves. His pleasures where really rather simple: the hotness of Miso soup, the tartness of green tea, sour yuzu fruits in the summer, cold soba inked with the saltiness of soy sauce, silken tofu nearly melting. Food was but a representative of a concept. Temperatures, textures, tastes – that was what enjoying food meant to him.
On the other hand, a large portion of his time was devoted to allowing his cousin to eat, getting the food, watching the food disappear. It was colorful, fast, and very sweet - so much that the artificialness was even more outstanding. The decorations, the plates, the whole presentation was so very suited to his cousin that he sometimes had difficulties not seeing him as a happy little muffin himself. The cakes were soft and sweet and colorful, and Mori found that he didn't particularly care for them. It was a type of food that needed an atmosphere, that depended of it's surroundings because it would seem to little to stand for itself.
It was as if their very characters were represented in the way they liked their food.
Somehow, he found that thought startling, especially when observing the sweetness that lay before him. He would never have thought that there was sweet taste that he would crave so much, or that decoration – and lacy one at that- would ever tempt him. He would never believed that the color of her eyes when first opening them in the morning would make him more awake than the fresh green of tea. Yet, he found himself addicted to her taste, drawn to her curves, longing for the smoothness underneath the silk gown. He never thought that he would think anything scrumptious - quite literally.
„Renge definitely is a dish best served hot", he mused, before he leaned in to kiss her awake.
FIN
A/N: Again, excuse the randomness. Tell me what you think?