Fictober Day 20: "You could talk about it, you know?"

Shiemi watched in wonder as Rin chopped up the stalk of celery with admirable speed and skill. She knew that Rin was a wonderful cook, but she'd never seen anyone chop that fast! How in the world he'd managed to cut up the celery, carrots, and onions (without crying, even!) in under ten minutes was an impressive feat.

Or at least, it was until he slowed to stop to look at her with a puzzled expression. "Uh? Shiemi? You ok?"

She jumped, feeling her cheeks burn under the weight of his gaze. "Y-yeah, of course! Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just... you have this look on your face." He paused and puffed up his cheeks, eyes widening as if to mirrors hers.

Which, of course, made Shiemi's face feel even hotter and her hands instinctively came up to hide her face, only to peer at him through the cracks of her fingers. "I don't really look like that, do I?"

The expression dissolved immediately into musical laughter. "Well, not anymore."

"I was... I was just amazed! At your cooking skills!"

His grin widened, eyes shining. "Really?"

"Of course!" Embarrassment gave way to determination as her hands moved away from her face, balling into fists. "Where did you learn to prep vegetables like this?"

"I've been practicing since I was a kid," he answered. "I was really clumsy when I started, believe me. I cut my fingers so many times that I bandaids on them every day. My old man would always joke that I was the reason we didn't have any band-aids around the monastery. The other priests would laugh and laugh."

His gaze softened considerably as he spoke, his smile shifting from excited and cheeky to fond and oddly fragile, like it one wrong word would send it to the floor and cause it to shatter.

"One time, it took me a whole forty-five minutes to chop one onion," he went on. "I was crying because if you cut an onion wrong it usually makes people cry, and I made the mistake of rubbing my eyes before I washed my hands. It stung so damn bad, my old man had to help me wash my eyes and had to finish the onion himself. And the next day we were both laughing about it."

"Yeah?" she prompted quietly.

Her voice seemed to trigger something in his brain because suddenly he blinked and the strangely distant, sad expression was gone. In moments, he looked sheepish. "Sorry. I'm goin' on and on about this. Must be weird, huh?"

Shiemi blinked, surprised. "No, not at all! I like hearing family stories. They're... really nice to listen to." She beamed up at him. "You could talk about it, you know. Or talk about it more, at least. About your father. I don't mind one bit."

"Really?" he asked, suddenly looking timid. It was a little strange, to see him sift through so many emotions, so quickly. "It's just, usually, I cook by myself or with Ukobach, and he's not that much of a talker. It's... kind of cool, having someone here with me. Reminds me of back home."

Shiemi's smile became tender. Gentle. "I'd love to hear more stories about your home life."

"Well, then, we have to make it fair," Rin said, tail twitching mischievously behind him. "You can tell me about your home life, and I'll tell you about mine."

"Sure," she said kindly, because even though she'd been friends with Rin for so long, he still felt like a mystery to her. There were so many things about him, about his past, about his family, that she didn't know.

And that was how the rest of the evening went, the two of them trading stories and memories, as Rin finished prepping the veggies and started on something else. It wasn't just a demon talking to a human. It didn't even feel like they were exwires in training, in this moment.

Just two friends, two young teens, learning a little bit more about each other.