Chapter Eighty: On Being A Domestic Failure

Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21.

Movie Playing: Paddington

Theme 31: Knife

Hiruma loved a challenge but absolutely detested losing.

At anything.

Fortunately for him there were relatively very few things that he was a failure at. His artistic skills were grade A. Athletic ability, completely ignoring kicking accuracy, was professional level. Intelligence, strategic planning, and data comprehension were off the charts. The list could go on and on with what he was good at.

Unfortunately for him the one thing he was absolutely piss poor no redemption awful at was cooking. Didn't matter how simple the task was, as long as it involved the kitchen the results would be disappointing at best. At worst, and statistically more probable, the end product was catastrophic. His rice was either a watery mess or a crunchy disaster. His miso soup once made Cerberus, who was basically a living garbage disposal, turn his nose up at it. No one was ever to mention what happened at his attempt to grill fish.

For the most part he didn't give a shit about his terrible cooking skills. He knew how to work the microwave. Instant noodles and take away had served him well thus far. If he was really craving something homemade there were normally leftovers from Anezaki he could count on.

This was fine with him.

At least, it was until the day she shooed him out of his own kitchen declaring him too incompetent to help her. It wasn't even implied, those had been her exact words as she had effectively tossed him out the threshold. They had recently moved in together when she had discovered his atrocious food preparation skills. Upon tasting his first meal in their home she took it upon herself to keep him as far away from the kitchen as physically possible.

This, of course, had the exact opposite effect on him. Effectively raising his heckles it became his mission to prove her wrong about how terrible he was at this particular chore. He started to show up every time she was making something. Insisting she give him something to do to prove himself.

Tonight was no different.

He hadn't even had a chance to open his mouth and suggest what he could do before she pointed a ladle to the corner counter. "You're going to wash and chop the vegetables."

He waited for further instruction. When none were forthcoming he asked expectantly, "And…?"

"And nothing." Her tone left no room for debate as she returned her attention to whatever she had simmering on the stovetop. "You can chop the vegetables and that's it."

Well that was more than a little insulting. He knew he was terrible at being domestic but this was ridiculous. There had to be more that he could do besides cutting the leeks and radishes. He looked over at a pot that was just rising to a boil. "You're not even going to let me stir?"

She raised a disbelieving eyebrow right at him. "Do you remember what happened the last time I let you stir?"

He winced. He remembered exactly what happened the last time he was allowed to stir. Apparently he had been too enthusiastic with his motions and had knocked the boiling pot clear off the stove. The ensuring mess had required a trip to the emergency room for several burns and the replacement of most of the kitchen floor as well at the dented pot.

It had not been one of his better moments.

He glared at the cutting board, still full of whole unwashed food, as if it had done him a personal wrong. "I hate chopping vegetables."

"Then don't do it." She was measuring all sorts of things and dumping them in various mixing bowls and pans. "I'll chop them in just a moment and you can sit in the other room until dinner's ready."

He may have hated being on vegetable duty but he hated essentially being called useless even more. Grumbling he picked up a radish and washed it with more malice than was strictly necessary.

One of these days he was going to make an edible meal that would blow her mind or he'd burn down the kitchen trying: whichever came first. Until then he resigned himself to instant noodles while she was away and vegetable chopping when she was home.