"Tch, I'm surprised a tyrant like you would like something so boring."
"Hn. The cloud watching slug thinks botany is boring. How troublesome…"
Shikamaru involuntarily frowned upon upon the slight parody. It's true he used the word a lot, but there was really no need to make him feel self conscious about it. This is why women were so…annoying.
"Whatever, just thought you'd want some lunch by now, but I guess you're too busy being—"
He froze in mid-sentence as Temari turned her head and suppressed an urge to break into a grin at the sight before him. Temari, usually sensible looking, was sporting a hybrid of a monocle and a small microscope. She looked like a Victorian cyborg.
"Stop staring, idiot. Haven't you seen a hands-free magnifying glass before? Before we go, I made you a snack. It's in the yellow bowl in the fridge."
"Not one of your failed experiments, I hope," Shikamaru mumbled as he trudged over to the small fridge adjacent to her bench. A small, lopsided smirk graced his face. She probably moved it there so that she could study her plants for hours on end and grab food without moving from her bench. It was practical. He liked it.
Opening the door, he quirked an eyebrow as he eyed the contents of the yellow bowl. Is that what I think it is? What's that white goop? He picked up the spoon, brought the bowl closer to his face to sniff.
"Just try it, stupid. It's probably not poisonous"
He let out an almost silent growl, picked up a spoonful of the dubious concoction and hoped for the best. His tongue was greeted by the white stuff, some sort of paste that tasted like soybeans and cauliflowers. It was gentle, almost tasteless at first, but gradually became tart and tangy, and left him wanting more. How does something that looks so vile taste so good? Milliseconds later, his teeth bit into the seasoned kelp. When he tasted it, he could smell the ocean. The kelp was fresh, sleek, and slightly crunchy, and was delightfully marinated with some sort of hot sauce. He ground his tongue into the roof of his mouth, trying to analyze the contents of the sauce. A bit of red chilli...rice powder...salt...some more soybeans. It tasted earthy and brought back memories of his childhood: of following the butterfly that introduced him to Chouji, of fresh wooden pencils that he rarely used, of sculpting clay pots with his mother, of lying in slightly damp grass and enjoying the clouds as the sun began to set.
Temari stared at the dumbfounded Shikamaru, eyes half-lidded, spoon still centimeters from his mouth, and his eyebrows frozen and furrowed. "I know you like mackerel, but I don't know how to cook fish since Suna doesn't really ha—"
"I laghh yooh."