Me: Too jetlagged to... torture. Here *holds up sign*
Sign: kojiluvr doesn't own digimon and this story is set as it would be if Daisuke couldn't cook. And she just felt like using Japanese names.
Daisuke Motomiya, a magenta-haired, slightly-tanned, brown-eyed boy, twelve year old, growled as he grabbed a recipe book from the book shelf, rolling up his sleeves. He had recently asked one of his oldest friends to be his girlfriend and, to celebrate the fact that she had accepted, he had offered to give her a home-cooked meal, one that he had cooked himself. Although reluctant, she had agreed, and now Daisuke was searching for a recipe that wasn't possible to screw up.
He smirked as he flicked through the book, stopping on a brightly-coloured page. 'This is perfect! There's no way I could mess this up!'
He set to work, gathering all of the essential equipment; bowls, spoons, boiling water, a cup, dashi granules, green onions, a knife, silken tofu and a pot. Five minutes later, the kitchen was filled with a delicious aroma… that is, until Daisuke tasted the soup he had been making, deciding it was much to bland, and found the spice cabinet.
"A little bit of chilli and some of… whatever that is and… finished!" He grinned and ran to the door, due to the fact that the doorbell had rung, grinning again as he opened it, revealing his best friend and rival, Takeru Takaishi, a blonde, blue-eyed, twelve year old boy. "Hey, Takeru!"
"Hi, Daisuke. You… wanted me to do you a favour?" Takeru asked cautiously, toeing off his shoes as he entered the modest flat Daisuke called his home.
Daisuke nodded, running back over to the now-bubbling liquid and poured a small amount into a bowl, handing it to Takeru, "Would you taste-test this? I promised Hikari I'd cook her something tonight."
Takeru took the bowl cautiously, staring at the blackened contents in obscure disgust, "Um… sure, but… what is it?"
Daisuke grinned widely, "Miso soup!" He grinned again as Takeru took a sip. "Good, right?"
As if to prove a point, Takeru dropped the bowl, covering his mouth with his hand, and ran into the bathroom where hurling sounds could be heard from less than ten seconds later.
Pouting, Daisuke sighed and cleaned up the spilled 'soup', placing the broken bowl into the bin as Takeru walked shakily out of the bathroom, one hand still covering his mouth, "Um… Daisuke? What did you put in that soup?"
Daisuke sighed and finally glanced at the ingredients he had used, "Chilli, ground pepper, egg yolk, cheddar and white chocolate."
Takeru froze, eyes wide, colour fading from his face before lunging into the bathroom for another five minutes before walking out, slightly more steady on his feet, "Maybe I should get Yamato to cook something so, you know, you don't poison Hikari?"
Daisuke nodded in agreement and soon, the tall, blonde, thirteen-year-old figure of Takeru's half-brother, Yamato Ishida, was walking into the kitchen, apron in hand, "So what's the emergency?"
Hikari Kamiya, Daisuke's brown-haired, cherry-eyed, twelve-year-old girlfriend, grinned at Daisuke as he placed her bowl into the sink, "That was delicious, Daisuke! Thank you so much."
Daisuke smiled and nodded, blushing as she kissed him as she walked out of his house. She smirked and glanced back at him over her shoulder, "And would you like to come over to my house tomorrow? You can show me how you made that!"
Daisuke nodded happily, but groaned as the door closed. 'I am so dead.
24 hours later…
Hikari smirked as Daisuke poured some salt into the curry he was attempting to remake, sweat pouring down his face. Finally, he whipped around, wide-eyed, "I have to be honest with you! I didn't cook that dinner yesterday. Yamato did!"
Hikari nodded, closing her eyes as she poured the blackened contents of the pot into the bin, "I know."
Daisuke gasped, eyes as round as saucers, "How?!"
Hikari smirked again, "It's his favourite dish. He made it for me every time I went over to his house when we used to date."
Daisuke froze as she picked up the phone, typing in the number of the Orimoto Italian Takeaway down the street, "Also, he used a lot less salt than you just poured into that… thing… just now. So, what do you want for dinner? I think it's only fair that you pay, seeing as you never cooked last night."
Daisuke nodded and quickly gave the takeaway his order while Hikari pulled out some scary movies and the two settled down for a night of screams, pasta and, of course, kissing.
Me: Please... R&R... *snore*