a/n: This ficlet was based on the prompt, "B teaching A how to cook because they never learned how to."

In Want of a Lunchbox

Tsukuyo sighed, lamenting her lack of feminine ability once again.

The fire brigade had showed up to Hinowa's shop. Just because Tsukuyo had tried to make a bento box.

It was ridiculous. She had watched all the Youtube tutorials, had written down the online recipes. Had gone out to the trouble of grocery shopping. Bought a special pan from the department store to make rolled up eggs, goddammit! And yet, with all her efforts, she had set the kitchen on fire. To add insult to injury, her octopus sausages turned out wonky, the rice had dried to a crisp, and she had spilled half a jar of umeboshi before fishing one out for the onigiri filling.

The Hyakka put the smoke out just in time for them to watch, bewildered, as Tsukuyo came out of the chaos, flustered as she held an empty fire extinguisher in her hands. (The organization had started putting them in every house, citing that Yoshiwara were too prone to accidents below ground.)

"What happened, boss?" her subordinates asked, bewildered. "Did something happen?"

"N-nothing happened! It was just an accident!" she barked, but the flush on her face betrayed her. Suddenly, her subordinates smiled and turned their necks around, looking for someone - and that particular someone owned silver hair.

"The savior of Yoshiwara must be near if Boss is looking so flustered," one of them remarked slyly, causing all of them to laugh.

Tsukuyo was about to raise her fists in anger but before she could reprimand any of them, they scattered, ostensibly to escape her rage.

Somehow, it made her deflate.

All she had really wanted to do was to make something for Gintoki. Something feminine, something inherently girly... Something that a normal girlfriend would do.

If you can't make a lunch or two, Gin-san will come to hate you.

As far as she was concerned, the relationship that she had with Gintoki was far from what she had observed on television dramas, shojo animes, magazines - or even normal couples living in the real world. She was pretty sure that most men, for example, didn't have a fetish for being stabbed by kunai. She was also pretty sure that most men weren't as freakishly strong as he was, either.

And she was pretty sure that despite her abject failure as a normal girlfriend in the cooking department, he still weirdly liked her. As in, they would go on dates (that she always somehow ended up paying for), they would hold hands and kiss (that he somehow ended up charming her into doing), and sometimes, if she wasn't too tired after a work shift and he'd taken a shower beforehand, they would even have sex (which was mutually satisfying and exciting).

But now on her day off, she wanted to prove to herself that she could cook for him. Aside from proving Hinowa wrong, she was aware that every women's magazine and dramas stressed the importance of being a good cook.

Judging from the results of the kitchen, she could not. Which was... disconcerting.

Gintoki sauntered up to Hino-ya in a few minutes after the emergency abated, by which she was halfway cleaning the kitchen by herself and a sweaty, frustrated mess. She blushed upon seeing him - she hadn't expected him to show up that afternoon. As she mostly worked in the evenings, he knew her schedule well enough to understood that she mostly slept during the daytime unless something important was happening.

"Hey," he greeted her, warily eying the kitchen and its various messes. She knew it looked as if a bomb had exploded in the middle of the house. "Did Seita try to cook today?"

Tsukuyo shook her head. "No." Blaming a kid for her mistakes seemed morally incorrect, even though she was not going to let her boyfriend get the satisfaction of knowing how sub-par she was as a cook. Not that she gave a damn! She wasn't auditioning to be his housewife, at any rate!

Gintoki let out a soft hmm. "And Hinowa's usually too careful to make this much of a mess."

She busied herself wiping the countertops, trying her very best not to look too suspicious. "Well, s-she was in a hurry this morning. PTA meetings, and all that. I've heard the moms were doin' a group dinner tonight."

"Uh-huh," he said, clearly unconvinced. "Which is why she would wash a bento box in the sink and not use the Tupperware instead."

Tsukuyo snatched the offending container from the sink. "I was just doin' her a favor, that's all! That's Seita's spare lunchbox, by the way, since he left tha other one at temple school!"

"Tsukki, your ears are turning red."

Stupid, stupid, stupid, she fumed. She never got used to casually lying the way that others could - she was too honest for that.

"They are not," she retorted, and could feel them get even hotter. Gintoki grinned.

"So... it's your day off, and you're spending it on... cleaning?" he queried.

"That's right," she huffed, latching onto any excuse he'd offer. "I knew you were going ta come over - not this early, obviously! - so I wanted ta get a head start."

"Sure," he said, still unconvinced. "I mean, I know you're a workaholic, but this is just... " He waved his hands in mock amazement. "Way too much, y'know?"

She nodded, still red in the cheeks. "Yeah. Well. You know how it is."

Gintoki always accepted people for who they were, and the aspect of her being a workaholic was something that would never change even though they were seeing each other. Somehow she had taken his flexibility for granted, where most men might have had an issue with it.

"What were you trying to make?" he asked gently, putting his hand on top of hers. She was tempted to pull hers away, to deny that she was cooking in the first place.

But she didn't.

Gintoki always had a knack of cutting through the bullshit when he figured out someone's insecurity. Maybe he would give them a little bit of shit for it, but he usually would end up making amends for it. This intangible quality was something that she was grateful for.

"A bento box," she replied quietly. "But everything went wrong."

"What happened?" he asked, leaning forwards to hear her speak. She thought those two words was his version of telling her that he loved her, in a strange, Gintoki way.

"Well, I started ta do this... "

-x-

"The problem with cooking is that you can multi-task, but only if you've been doing it for a while," Gintoki explained. "Your mistake was doing it all at the same time."

The bastard was sitting at the countertop, grinning as she was prepping dinner without any of his help. After Tsukuyo had explained what had gone wrong, they'd gotten a fresh supply of groceries (all paid by her, obviously), and now she was washing the rice - which apparently she had forgotten to do the first time she attempted cooking.

Her boyfriend was sucking on the strawberry flavored lollipop that he'd snuck into the cart before checkout. Tsukuyo made a mental note to trip him once they finished making dinner.

"I thought cookin' rice in the pot would make it more delicious than usin' a cooker," she muttered as she rinsed the rice from the pot. Checking to see it was done, she measured out some fresh water to fill in Hinowa's brand new kitchen appliance.

"No offense, but you've got a freakin' top of the line Zojirushi rice cooker. Y'know how much those bad boys cost in the department store? I saw them on sale last week and I'd still have to win the pachinko parlors to put a down payment on them!" Gintoki exclaimed, eyebrows raised in amazement. "Shit, even Otose doesn't have a basic Zojirushi, and she's the world's stingiest landlady."

"I didn't know," Tsukki mumbled.

"You can't fuck up with that machine anyway," he said, still sucking on his candy. "But I'd still do a one to one water and rice ratio anyway, just to be on the safe side."

"Right..."

The prep work she did for vegetables were adequate - he seemed to approve of her slicing skills - but he kept a very close watch on her when she switched on the gas stove.

"You can't always turn on high heat, Tsukki - that's not how this works," Gintoki complained as she scowled at him. "You're gonna burn the hell out of those Vienna sausages. You, my courtesan of death, might not have a problem with sucking in your carcinogens, but Gin-san wants his lungs to be healthy, okay? He's already breathed in too much of your DJ Kaoris in the first place!"

And so it went on. They worked all that afternoon, her making the side dishes, preparing simple dishes such as picked vegetables, potato salad, and braised pork, simmered in savory sauces. Gintoki helped very minimally, preferring to boss her around with as much criticism that he could get away with knowing full well her set of kunai was out of reach.

That said, she was almost about to stab him with a paring knife, right until her boyfriend pointed out how well her egg rolls were turning out. A mixture of her quick reflexes and a good quality pan that she'd bought for the occasion somehow turned the result into an acceptable omelette.

"Nice and fluffy," he said, poking her tamagoyaki with a finger. "So you're not totally beyond hope, Tsukki~ "

He'd caught her accidentally switching the salt and sugar once, which would have ended up traumatic for everyone except for him. Over time, though, she was starting to get the gist of things. Not that she would ever become a professional cook anytime soon - that was more of a pipe dream than anything - but he didn't have to keep a beady eye on her 24/7 or call the fire brigade. Which, he figured, was a vast improvement over what had transpired before he arrived in her kitchen.

The tempura was saved for last while the other side dishes cooled in the fridge. That one, Gintoki did most of the work as frying improperly was the main reason there had been a fire in the first place. As he placed the fried vegetables and battered prawns onto oil blotting papers, Tsukuyo scooped some rice from the rice cooker into the lunch boxes, pressing them with a bunny-shaped paddle. She then pressed a pickled plum in the middle, sprinkling black sesame seeds to make it look prettier.

They argued a little bit over the arrangements. Gintoki wanted his bento box to be entirely comprised of meat (the most expensive items, naturally), or one filled with dessert, and Tsukuyo, preferring a smaller portion size, only took minimal amounts of everything (which he only disagreed with because he thought she wasn't eating properly).

Hinowa had finally entered the kitchen, kicking the two of them out and insisting on preparing the rest of it herself, tiring of their noise - even though she was still happy they were spending time together - and finally, they sat down in the storefront, where Tsukuyo poured herself a cup of tea, and let herself finally decompress.

Gintoki had, of course, poured himself a glass of ice-cold strawberry milk from the fridge, saying it was his reward for "teaching" her how to cook. She snorted, but was much too tired to give a damn about it anymore.

They sat next to each other in silence, watching the people walk past the tea shop; it was a normal thing for them to do now. Oftentimes, he had noticed she was rarely in the mood to talk after work, preferring instead to make noncommittal noises while he chatted about his day.

He didn't mind, though. That was the thing. He knew if she gave him a small smile, all had been well and there was nothing to worry about. Today he had pointed out a cloud in Yoshiwara's opening that was shaped like a dildo. She had rolled her eyes but hadn't slapped him for it, meaning she was in a reasonably good mood.

Still, he couldn't resist asking her a question this time. "Hey, Tsukki."

"Yeah?"

"Why'd you try making a lunchbox when you don't have to?"

Tsukuyo looked at him, turning pink. The golden hour of the day made her skin glow - and her blush only enhanced her feminine beauty in a way he knew she would have despised a few years ago.

"I just wanted ta give it a go, I guess." She took a sip of her tea, avoiding eye contact with him.

"No one taught you how to cook?"

"Not really." She glanced into her teacup wistfully. "I can make riceballs, o' course, an' the occasional nabe if I've got a recipe in front o' me. But other than that, no one ever taught me tha basics... "

"Oh." Now he felt a bit bad for giving her shit all that afternoon. She'd taken the criticism as well as she could, all while glaring (and throwing) daggers at him, but still. He'd been a little unfair, but at the same time, it was kind of nice to have an excuse to see his woman wearing a sexy apron all that afternoon.

"It's all right," Tsukuyo mused. "I figured, now that I'm a proper girlfriend, no time like tha' present... But I still ain't good at it. I'm a bit hopeless, ya see."

His heart started to beat a little faster.

The small hint of embarrassment that had creeped into her eyes made him love her more; Gintoki was always soft for her sincerity conveyed through her actions. For both of them, being honest with their feelings was still a novel experience. It was still rare for him to see the softer parts of Tsukuyo, and so to witness her putting her vulnerabilities on display made him feel closer to her.

In that very moment, she felt incredibly human to him; she was neither a goddess nor courtesan.

She was just a simple woman who wanted to make him happy. He would never admit it to her, but her efforts to cook for him had already outshadowed anything he could possibily eat. And so, he was happy in spite of everything.

"You're not hopeless," Gintoki said, placing his fingers on top of hers. "The speed that you sliced the vegetables woulda put those Michelin chefs to shame."

"Ya think so?"

"Yeah. Cooking's just a matter of practice, anyway. Once you do more of it, especially when you're poor like me, you can make anything as long as you got a pack of noodles and eggs."

Tsukuyo laughed, her smile as equally beautiful as the golden sun that illuminated the underground city. "I hope so."

"If you... I dunno, wanna try more advanced stuff later, just call me. And maybe we can do it together."

"Yer not talkin' about sex, are ya?" she said, her eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. "'Cause if you are - "

"Damn you, woman! No, I wasn't! I really enjoyed cooking with you today, and not just because I know I'll get a free meal out of you! Of course a woman of Yoshiwara would take the words outta my mouth and make it disgusting when it was completely innocent," Gintoki complained.

"Just checkin', ya filthy animal. But noted," his woman said, still smiling.

They kept on holding hands until the sun went down. They continued to do so even as they knew Hinowa was lingering in the doorway, loathe to interrupt the two lovers sitting in perfect silence as the citizens of the red light district walked past them, thinking nothing of them, and the couple thinking nothing of those civilians. After all, it was a natural end to what they both considered a wonderful day spent together in each other's flawed, but treasured, company.

-x-

the end

-x-