I have enjoyed writing this story much more than I thought I would originally. It might not be foolish to expect an update every weekend. . . That said, it's hard to say right now, and this tentative update schedule could very easily change depending on outside events. As always, thank you for reading!
It was midnight, and Ren couldn't sleep. He had taken a nap in the sun earlier when his teammates were doing homework, and had therefore gotten an extra two hours of sleep. When he woke up at eleven thirty, he felt wide awake. His stomach ached. Apparently his team was under the impression that he hadn't slept well, so they left him while they grabbed dinner. Ren wondered how Jaune and Pyrrha could've possibly convinced Nora to leave him asleep like that, since she liked to sit next to him during meals.
Although they had brought him back a small tray of food, he left it untouched, figuring Nora would enjoy the meal in the morning as a pre-breakfast breakfast. Besides, he was restless and his hands itched to do something, so he'd might as well cook and kill two birds with one stone.
He snuck out of the dorm as quietly as possible (which was more than sufficient), closing the door behind him with gentle fondness. After all the stress Nora put it through, Ren thought it karmically wise to treat it gently. He padded down the hallway, his bare feet warmed with every step. Beacon's floor heating really is commendable.
The dorm floor's kitchens were always kept clean (usually due to his insistence on cleaning immediately after every use), so he had no qualms about walking around on the heated tile floor with his bare feet. However, after arriving, he couldn't quite decide what to make for himself. A magazine at the corner of the kitchen island caught his eye. "Cooking for the Home and Family, Atlas Edition." Well, I suppose I could try to find an idea here. He made himself comfortable and began thumbing through the pages.
The cooking magazine turned out to be a little bit too good. Ren found himself stuck between choosing four different recipes. He hadn't made any of them before, and they were all equally healthy and nutritious enough to be considered for a late dinner. Not too many calories, yet filled with vitamins. "But what one is the best one?" he muttered to himself. "Should I choose the Hunter's Pie? Or perhaps the Vacuo-Style Wine-Seared Croquette?" He scratched his chin in confusion, turning the page to yet another potential choice. "But what about the Seaweed Salad with Oregano, Thyme, and Red Sage? Or the Haven Biscotti Crumble? Ahhh, I just can't decide!"
He was cut short when the door squeaked. He slowly placed the magazine down. Who could possibly be coming to my kitchen this late at night? A wisp of green hair answered his question a moment later. Emerald pushed her way through the entrance, turning to close the door behind her.
"Can't sleep?" Emerald jumped in surprise when he spoke, frantically glancing around the room until her eyes landed on him. She visibly relaxed, taking in his attire. Her eyes lingered on his black unbound hair which flowed freely over his back and shoulders.
"Well," she shrugged, "I'm more of a night person myself. What're you doing here?"
"Then, it seems I'm the one who couldn't sleep." He brushed a stray strand of hair from his face. "But I could ask you the same thing. Here for a midnight snack? I am."
"I didn't eat dinner, so I came here to make some popcorn." Ren was stunned into silence.
". . . Popcorn? You're going to eat popcorn for dinner? That's not healthy in any way!"
"I said I was hungry, not on a diet." She stuck out her tongue at him.
"No, I refuse. I won't let you eat popcorn." He paused, still appalled. "I can't let you eat popcorn. That's simply not right." Emerald rolled her eyes in an exaggerated fashion.
"Yeah, well, I don't suppose you'll make me ramen or anything," she said with marked sarcasm. Ren froze, then rushed to his feet, pulling a small pot from the nearby cupboard.
"If that's a challenge," he began, flipping the pot adroitly in the air, "then I accept. I'll make the best ramen you've ever tasted." Emerald stared at him in blank surprise, as if nobody had ever offered to make her a meal. Maybe nobody has, Ren thought. The victory was short-lived, as Emerald returned with a comment.
"Wow, a man who cooks and enjoys erotic literature! Never thought I'd see the day." She giggled as he visibly cringed. Damn, I forgot about that!
"What can I say?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "I'm a man of many skills." He filled the pot with water, placing it on the lit stove. He turned the heat to low, then grabbed a stirring spoon and an oven mitt. His signature apron came next.
"'Please do nothing to the cook,'" Emerald read aloud. "What does that mean?"
"There's a popular phrase that reads 'kiss the cook,' so I thought this apron was more appropriate for my taste. It also was the only one that came in pink." He tied it behind his back deftly, closing his eyes for a brief moment in concentration while he pulled the strings into a neat bow.
"You don't want to be kissed, huh? Why's that? Nobody around here catch your eye? Or are you more into. . . the men?" Ren straightened, blinking in surprise.
"What? Yes-er, no. Maybe? Wait, what?" Damnit Ren, choose a question and answer it! "No, I don't care about any of that. I just like the irony of the statement, that's all there is to it." Emerald burst out laughing when she saw how hard he was trying to answer the questions she had asked.
"Oh okay, suuuuure. Whatever you say, Ren." He sighed once again in response, palming his forehead. For an odd reason, he didn't think it would be last time he did so.
"What kind of ramen do you want?"
"There are different kinds? How many flavor packs do you have? I usually just put two or three in at the same time."
Ren stared at her. "Flavor. . . packs? What?"
"You've never heard of those? They're little packages of flavor. . . stuff. . . that come with each package of ramen. You pour the packet into the noodles when you're ready to eat it. You seriously haven't heard of those?"
The water came to a full boil, Ren pulled a bundle of straight noodles from a cabinet carefully labeled "grains." He showed the noodles to Emerald, who looked at the bundle curiously. "These are high-quality noodles, made with grain imported from outside the Kingdom. They don't come with "flavor packets," so I generally make everything from scratch." He dumped the noodles into the water and lowered the heat before pulling some vegetables from a large bowl and washing them. Noting Emerald's increasingly perplexed look, he explained that he'd be adding the vegetables to the ramen.
Emerald watched in curious silence as he worked his magic in the kitchen. He zipped around with graceful movements, skating across the floor while testing various spices. Nodding at some, frowning at others, he threw many into the pot of simmering noodles, and rejected many more. The vegetables were sliced to perfection, each cut made with quick purpose and efficiency. He chopped them in front of Emerald, satisfied as her eyes widened in amazement at the repeated deft and high-speed movements of the knife.
An offhand remark caught his attention. "I'd love to see you fight sometime." Despite his intrigue he didn't falter in his work, scraping the vegetables into the simmering broth.
"What makes you say that?"
"You move really fast. What kind of weapons do you use?" Ren waited a moment before replying. I suppose she'll see them eventually in Professor Goodwitch's class. No need to hide anything.
"Dual-automatic pistols with blades attached to the barrel, named 'Stormflower.' Why do you ask?"
"Just wondering."
"What about you?" She smirked back at him, making it clear she wouldn't answer.
"Not telling. But they're not too different from yours." He sighed in exasperation, but otherwise remained silent. The conversation ended when he turned back to the noodles to finish them.
He smiled as he passed her the bowl, his smile turning into a smirk when he offered her chopsticks. He assumed she didn't know how to use them, but knew she would be far too proud to admit that and ask for help. He sat down across from her, abandoning his oven mitts on the edge of the table.
Ren watched her silently fumble with the chopsticks; it was obvious she had absolutely no idea what she was doing. Rather than ask for help though, she kept fumbling with them, her expression growing more and more grim as the noodles continuously slipped through the chopsticks. Ren was doing his best not to laugh, but it was becoming harder as her face scrunched up with a cute look of angry concentration.
"You don't know how to use chopsticks," Ren stated. Emerald threw him a dirty look.
"Shut up." She tried for another minute, before growling and throwing the chopsticks on the table. Snarling, she prepared to use her fingers to scoop the noodles.
"Wait, I don't-" Ren began. Too late. Emerald plunged her fingers into the broth, then pulling her hand out incredibly fast with a yell. "-think that's a good idea," he finished with a sigh, smacking his palm onto his forehead the second time that night.
"Ow fuck! That's hot!" She stuck her already reddening fingers in her mouth. Ren was already standing, moving to grab a bowl from the cupboard.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, just burned myself is all. Damn, that hurts."
He handed the bowl of cool water to her, smiling when she didn't hesitate to submerge her hand, her pride apparently forgotten. She sighed in relief, then raised her eyebrows in surprise when Ren silently pushed a fork across the table. It was a gesture of peace; since Emerald had hurt her hand and then accepted the cold water bowl, the fork was symbolic of the battle being over. "Thanks," she grunted, lowering her eyes. "Your ramen is getting cold."
"Oh! So it is." He began eating to distract them from Emerald's hurt fingers and pride, making sure the noodles didn't splash the table as he ate. Emerald was far less concerned; she slurped them loudly and hungrily, even with the aid of a fork. He was simultaneously surprised and unsurprised when she never made any snarky comments about the taste. He took her silence as a compliment; she was far too busy enjoying the meal to make conversation.
She ate much faster than him, pushing the bowl away with a satisfied noise once she finished. Ren spared a look at her bowl; she had not spared any broth or vegetables, eating as if she had grown up on the streets and taught herself never to take a meal for granted. He considered asking her about that, but figured questions about the past could ruin the amicable mood. For the first time, he felt himself genuinely relax in her presence, content to eat at his own pace while she watched him carefully.
Eventually, she picked up the chopsticks again and carefully positioned them in her hand. When Ren stopped eating to look up at her, she reached across the table and stole a piece of broccoli from his bowl. He could've stopped her (his anti-food theft reflexes had been honed to perfection from eating with Nora), but he was impressed that Emerald had managed to actually use the chopsticks to steal his food. He acknowledged her newly learned skill with a smile and a head nod.
Emerald stood when he finished eating, taking his bowl without asking and washing it in the sink. Ren helped dry the dishes; they finished the chore quickly thanks to the small amount of dishes and cutlery used. Ren bade her goodnight, opening the door to leave, but stopped when Emerald spoke. "Hey. Thanks for the food." It was a short and to-the-point thank you, but it made him happy; he hadn't expected to be thanked at all.
"Of course," he nodded, smiling at the girl. "I'll see you around, I'm sure. Goodnight." The kitchen door closed behind him, separating the two. He saw her sit back down before the door clicked shut, she would apparently be staying a little longer. Perhaps she doesn't feel tired yet. This was very much in opposition to Ren who was by this point dead on his feet, finally ready to sleep.
He snuck back into team JNPR's room, slipping into the welcoming warmth of his bed. His scroll read two in the morning, he would be quite tired when he woke up. He groaned internally at the thought. At least Nora doesn't like coffee, I don't need to worry about her stealing mine. Sleep took him quickly, his brain filtering out the sound of Pyrrha's gentle snores.