I just remembered how Tyson retched at Hilary's sandwiches. So I thought, I would write one in that memory.
"Come on…almost…there! Finished!"
Hilary grinned to herself and picked up the pot full of hot stew that she had been working so hard on. She thought it had come out quite excellently, if she did say so herself. Of course, she had forgone the recipe as usual. It had just looked so boring. Hilary knew that just using ingredients off of the top of her head would make the dinner much more delicious! And Tyson, who was back at their cabin from another arduous day of training, would certainly love the dish as well.
At least, that's what Hilary assumed. Convincing him was a hard task itself. She giddly simpered at her success.
She ladled the thick liquid into two separate bowls before carrying them out to the kitchen, where Tyson was already seated at the table.
"Dinner's here!" Hilary cheered, causing Tyson to beam excitedly. She placed one bowl in front of him and the other right across, where she would sit.
"Wow…this looks good!" Tyson commented, staring down into his full bowl.
"Thanks, Tyson!" Hilary giggled, blushing. "I made it myself."
Tyson's entire face paled. "Y-you?"
"Oh, don't sound so nervous!" Hilary scolded. "When have I ever made anything terrible?"
"Well, that one time, when I and Daichi…"
"I was much younger back then," Hilary brushed away, turning her head away in annoyance. "I didn't know what I was doing! But I have much more experience now."
Tyson gulped heavily before nervously picking up his spoon and cautiously dipping it into the stew. He spooned some out and slowly raised it to his lips, taking in the whole spoonful before Hilary could even sit down. As soon as it slid down his throat, Tyson's eyes widened, and he had to hold back the urge to completely gag. A strangled noise still escaped, however, and caught Hilary's attention.
"What?" Hilary demanded, her emerald eyes narrowing.
"It's…delicious!" Tyson lied, earning a victorious smile from Hilary.
"See? I told you!" Hilary giggled. "I'm a real chef now!"
Yeah, a real bad one, Tyson thought acidly.
Thinking that he hadn't collected all the ingredients in the first morsel, the tried again, scooping up a really small portion of the stew, and slurped it. As soon as the stew trickled down his throat, he sat back up and whined, his entire face turning purple.
"What happened?" Hilary asked, panicking.
"Uh…this food is so tasty, I couldn't hold myself back and wanted to wolf it down as fast as I could…heh heh." Tyson lied, fanning himself. "Got myself a chock…"
"Oh Tyson…it's hot. Hilary chastised, before straightening her bows. "Blow your stew for a while. Here like this." The brunette plucked her lips, and blew on the stew, disturbing their surface. Hoping she had repeated enough, she scooped a spoonful of stew and raised it to her lips.
"Hil…wait! Maybe if you just add a little mirin…" He sincerely didn't want Hilary to know about the stew. This would break her heart.
"Rice wine in this stew?" Hilary quirked a brow, "The recipe didn't say that Tyson."
"Yeah, but maybe you can stumble on something new, that you can call your own 'creation'!"
"Just drink the stew, Tyson," Hilary shook her head, and entered the spoon in her mouth. As soon as she stuck the spoon in her mouth, however, Hilary was just as quick to spit it out and make a disgusted face.
"BLEGH! This is DISGUSTING!" Hilary shrieked.
"It's not that bad, I mean…," Tyson hummed.
"Tyson! Why didn't you say anything?" Hilary demanded. "This soup is a disaster."
"Can I be honest?" Tyson quipped.
"If you really have to, I guess you can-"
"It's one of the worst things I've ever eaten," Tyson interrupted, his eyes wide.
Hilary groaned and smacked her head against the table, causing Tyson to jump. He frowned and looked down at his obviously dejected friend, who was refusing to pick her head back up.
"Hil?" Tyson murmured.
"I can never learn to cook…" Hilary growled into the wood.
The next day, when Tyson was out in the woods for training, Hilary had called up at his house, eager to talk to Gramps about the debacle that had occurred the previous night.
"I just wanted to make him a nice dinner," Hilary murmured sheepishly, her cheeks tinted a delicate red. "And instead, I just made him want to be sick."
On the video phone, Gramps quirkily comforted, "Don't throw in the towel just yet, homie! T-Dawg whooped it ain't so festy."
Hilary groaned and buried her face in her hands, shaking her head as she slumped her shoulders. "I'll never win."
"Dog up, girl! In the Shikai we got a quote when we down, yo! Nothin outside gets you piped, but what's the deal within, you dig? The chef sleeps in you, homie. Wake her up! Time's running out! There's gonna be rumbly in T-Dawg's tummy when she show's up! Give it to him, girl!"
Hilary's eyes widened at the notion. "Do you mean…but I don't haven't even thought what I'd make him!"
"You got the craving for a sensei, girl! Say no more! I'll got a cubie for ya! The Kinomiya special!"
"Kinomiya special?" Hilary repeated, blinking as the man flashed an ancient Japanese script. "Will Tyson like it?"
"He'll be bowled!" Grandpa finished with a samurai pose.
"Oh, thank you, Grandpa!" Hilary practically squealed, clasping her hands together in front of her chest.
"You don't worry, homegirl! I'll give you every key to Tyson's door! He'll be the bee in the bonnet for your tucker for the rest of your lives!"
"Our lives?'' Hilary squealed, blushing red-hot.
The cooking lesson with Grandpa had been, for lack of a better word, exhausting.
The old man had almost lost his cool upon hearing that Hilary's typical approach to cooking was ignoring the recipe outright and going with ingredients that looked or sounded interesting to her. That had become Hilary's first lesson: always follow the recipe, no matter how boring it sounds.
On the video call, Grandpa had went over everything with Hilary: from how to properly measure the ingredients to how to determine cooking time, even how the food should be presented.
"I didn't realize how much work actually goes into cooking," Hilary murmured, examining all of the prepared food that sat on the counter before her.
"You'll get the hang of it, dudette!" Grandpa encouraged.
"Sorry for being a slow learner, Grandpa" Hilary apologized, knowing exactly what that meant.
"It's in the bag, girl! You're a ripper!"
"I guess we won't know for sure until Tyson tries the food," Hilary grumbled, staring down the deep dish pizza like it was her ultimate enemy.
"Hil! I'm back!"
Hilary jumped as the door swung open and Tyson loudly announced himself. She panicked, whispering a soft goodbye to Grandpa before cutting of the call.
"Welcome back, Tyson!" Hilary warbled. "How' was the training?"
"The new gear's amazing," The boy chuckled sheepishly and stepped back outside, stomping rhythmically on the door mat before hopping back inside and closing the door behind him. He groaned, walking into the kitchen, "Man I am starved…"
"Well, I already took care of that!" Hilary cheered.
Tyson stopped in his tracks to open the fridge for water, noticing the large pizza behind Hilary. He beamed, "Hey, you ordered pizza! Great, let's veg out in front of the TV!"
"No," Hilary chortled, only one to find excitement in her news, "I made all of this pizza by myself!"
Tyson's face paled again. "Hil, don't go around wasting the supplies."
"Tyson! I have spent an entire evening baking this pizza for you! Is that the thanks I get?"
"You have a thanks due from last night!" Tyson combatted.
"Don't be such a baby," Hilary persuaded, "This pizza has got your Grandpa's special ingredients in it! Just sit down and try one slice, okay. If you don't like it, I won't cook again, I promise!"
Tyson pressed his lips together and threw himself into a chair at the table, batting his eyelashes at his friend. Hilary rolled her eyes and picked up the pan and bring it over to the table, putting it down in front of Tyson and cutting out a slice to put on a plate. Still looking apprehensive, Tyson picked up the slice and slowly opened his mouth, taking a small bite out of the corner and chewing the bit while shifting his eyes around the room.
"Well?" Hilary huffily demanded, although there was genuine curiosity behind her voice as well. "What do you think?"
"It's…not bad!" Tyson chuckled. "In fact, it's pretty good!"
"Really?" Hilary murmured.
"Yeah!" Tyson continued. "I guess what they say is right. Practice makes perfect!"
Hilary's smile turned into a full-blown grin. "Perfect? You think my cooking is perfect?"
Tyson's eyes widened and he held his hand out towards the brunette. "Whoa, one step at a time, Hil. You can't become perfect in one day!"