Ema gets lost in the pleasant atmosphere of the kitchen and Ukyo's company. Though their shared humming breaks any tension, Ema is still a little nervous to be working in such close proximity to Ukyo, who seems like he's been cooking his entire life.
I'm already imposing on the Asahinas and they've all been so kind to me! It's the least I can do to help make dinner.
With that thought in mind and her renewed focus, Ema hunches over and focuses harder on her task of sorting out the vegetables. She does not want to disappoint Ukyo.
Ukyo, from his place next to her, notices the change in posture and tries to hide an amused smile.
Ema, though quiet, has already made something of an impression on his brothers. Now, it's his turn to be awed by her dedication and how maturely she holds herself.
"Have you ever cooked before, Ema-chan?" Ukyo breaks the silence.
When she first entered the kitchen, Ema had followed the deft movements of his knife sliding back and forth on the wooden cutting board with a keen, almost professional eye.
Ukyo has only recognized that considering look once before, and it had come from his mother. He had been fourteen, on holiday from school, and panicking because he didn't have a present ready for Masaomi's birthday.
And the man of honor himself was set to come home in less than two hours.
In his panicked state, Ukyo had come up with the less than genius idea of making his brother a full, three-course meal, even though he had never cooked before in his life. Miwa had entered the kitchen sometime before Masaomi came home and after Ukyo had accidentally dropped an open bag of flour on the kitchen floor.
She had been unimpressed at the state of his work, and after chewing him out for a solid fifteen minutes (Ukyo had kept count in his fear that Masaomi would decide to arrive home early) pulled him to the side and taught him how to make Masaomi's favorite, extra spicy curry.
The curry was successful (and delicious, according to Masaomi) though whatever pride Ukyo felt in creating it was almost lost in his ensuing attempts to clean up the mess in the kitchen.
"I have, but I'm still learning," Ema confirms Ukyo's assumption, "I usually cook for myself every day, but sometimes when I don't have time because of school, one of the neighbors will offer me some of their leftovers."
Ukyo startles at her words. His knife grazes the side of the tomato he was holding and hit the cutting board with a dull thunk instead.
He turned to face Ema, who is still firmly sorting through the vegetables and adding them into several large bowl laid out on the countertop next to her. Tendrils of her hair stick to her round cheeks from the building humidity in the kitchen and her bathrobe hangs over the edge of the counter.
She notices Ukyo looking and lifts her head with a questioning look in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Ukyo-san. Am I doing something wrong?" She says nervously. Ema tears her eyes from his and glanced over at the food laid out in front of her.
Ukyo tries to smooth the furrow in his brows and takes up the knife to continue chopping again. His knuckles are white, knife clenched tightly in an angry fist, and his next slice was shaky.
"That sounds like a lot of work Ema-chan," Ukyo attempts to keep his voice level. The thunk of his knife punctuates every other word. "What about your parents? Or any guardians? Don't they like to help you cook?"
Ema takes a while to answer.
"My daddy's job involves a lot of traveling," She says diplomatically, vaguely.
Ukyo nods and chooses not to say anything else about the topic. He won't push her. He can't risk scaring her away when sh'e sonly just gotten comfortable in his presence.
By the time he finishes chopping up vegetables for the salad, Emma has moved the conversation forward and shyly extracted several cutting techniques out of him, which she plans to try out as soon as she gets home.
Talking to Ukyo is exciting. It's clear he has a mind as sharp as the knives he keeps. As Ema stirs the salad around and mixes the fruits of Ukyo's labor together into a single, delicious looking mixture, Ukyo begins telling her about his pre-law studies.
He speaks with a great, unrestrained passion in his voice. Emma has never known anyone to be so in love with their work, besides Rintarou.
Eventually, once there's no more salad left to make and the kitchen is filled with the smell of cooking meat, Ukyo steps out of the kitchen through a doorway Ema hadn't noticed with several bowls of salad in his hands. Ema takes the remaining bowl and cautiously follows.
author's note: Sorry for the long hiatus! Im a little rusty. how noticeable is it?