Disclaimer: I don't own D Gray Man.
As the first crack of sunlight sneaked its way past the curtains, the artist was forced to put down his brush and get ready for work.
He sighed as he pulled on his work clothes and did his hair. Oh, how he hated his job. It was ridiculous, really. Getting up so early in the morning and having to put on that fake cheery personality. Putting up with ridiculous orders all day…
He made his way down to the dining hall, stepped into the kitchen, tied an apron around his waist and sighed. It was going to be a long day.
At exactly 6am sharp, a familiar figure walked up to the ordering counter and muttered his order, "The usual".
"Good morning to you, too, Kanda~", Jerry said in his sing-song voice. To everyone who heard it, it was just his friendly and motherly personality shining through. But of course Jerry knew what it was, and what it was was sarcasm.
But however much he hated this job, he needed money, and so he had no choice but to turn around and start completing the samurai's order. He settled for muttering under his breath. "Seriously. You know there's something wrong with a person when all they eat is tempura soba for every meal. Hmph."
Just as Jerry began to reach for a pot, another voice piped up from behind the counter.
"Morning, Kanda!"
The white-haired boy received a grunt in response. Ignoring the swordsman, he turned to the man behind the counter.
"Morning Jerry!"
"Good morning, cutie~ What'll it be today?" He hoped that the stress he placed at the end of his phrase came off as enthusiastic and not disdainful. Jerry braced himself for a meal request that could feed a village.
"Scrambled eggs, sausages, a pile of pancakes, five Belgian waffles, three bowls of oatmeal, a meat pie, ten croissants, pork chop, four glasses of orange juice, and all the pastries you have!"
"Not a problem, hon. Just wait a sec." Jerry turned his back to his customers to roll his eyes as he gathered the necessary pots and pans.
Honestly. Jerry was at an absolute loss as to what made these exorcists think he had a friggin' grand international supermarket in his kitchen. How on earth was he to stock up on all these ingredients and know how to cook each one perfectly? How?! It was just plain ridiculous. Especially with that sorry excuse of a budget that Komui gave him each month to restock. It was barely enough to feed chickens in a coop, let alone an entire branch of exorcists and finders. Luckily, Jerry had found a way to get around the poor budgeting scheme. He snapped his attention back to his orders. If he didn't get a move on, more ridiculous orders would pile on. The other exorcists would be arriving shortly with their orders, too.
It was at times like these when Jerry was glad of his artistic ability.
He took out some dough and began kneading it, shaping it here and there. Long, thin strands of dough were now complete. He used his knuckles to achieve a bumpy effect on the next clumps of dough. "There. It looks just like tempura!" He dumped these into a pot to cook and moved onto Allen's order.
More dough was kneaded and shaped. The sculpting knife came in here and there. When most of Allen's order had been modeled, he returned to Kanda's pot of boiling dough. "Hmm, that looks about done." The head chef of the Black Order reached into a cabinet and pulled out a few tins. One contained artificial flavouring and the other, artificial colouring. He spooned some soba soup base flavouring into the pot and scooped out the tempura lumps, promptly painting them with the artificial colouring. Jerry skilfully plated the lot and slid it onto the counter. "Enjoy, my dear~"
"Hmph. Took you long enough." And the samurai stalked off with his meal, not knowing that the soba he so enjoyed, was merely flavoured and coloured dough.
The head chef mustered all the self-control he had in him to keep from leaping over the counter and kicking the stupid samurai in the head. "Let's see you try running a kitchen like this, you ungrateful brat!" mumbled the chef. " 'Make soba out of thin air, Jerry!'", he mimicked while baking Allen's portion of dough. The timer went off and Jerry returned to that same cabinet to pull out some more artificial colouring and flavouring. He painted the waffle shapes and began sprinkling it with sugar.
The day continued like this, shaping dough, cooking it, and then colouring and flavouring it. Finally, as Jerry completed the last order of the day, he was able to slide the counter window shut and begin cleaning his kitchen.
And then, just as he was ready to head back up to his quarters and complete his painting, Komui stuck his head into the kitchen.
"Jerry?"
"Yes, Komui, dear?"
"I just wanted to let you know how impressed I am at your budgeting skill! You make all those great meals and don't go over budget unlike those fools of chefs before you. You make my accounting that much easier~"
Jerry smiled. "Well, yes. Running a kitchen smoothly is quite an art, you know."
The chef turned and headed upstairs to his room. The artist sat himself in front of his easel and took out a brush.
End.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Note:
So… I hope that none of you have died of shock from reading my story. My sister and I came up with this idea together. We were just thinking… HOW on earth does Jerry do it?! Just think—if you have exorcists and finders all ordering different kinds of food, some in very large portions (*cough*Allen*cough*)… Jerry must have a very difficult time. Especially since Komui wastes the Order's budget on his experiments and stuff.
Just a thought. Haha
Please leave a reply to let me know what you thought. =)