This is a continuation of the previous chapter.
As revenge for Shoto turning the whole damn house cattywampus, I'm making his cold soba spicy as fuck.
"Here. How the hell do you not get tired of eating this every single day?"
"How do you not get tired of adding hot sauce to everything?"
"That's different—it tastes different depending on what it's with. You, on the other hand, just eat the same thing again and again without changing a single damn thing about it."
He's gonna bite it.
"I guess that's true. Mgh?! Hah… Katsuki, what… What—"
I've never seen his eyes fly open like that. Holy shit. He looks like a fucking dog. Oh my God—this is beautiful.
"Payback, Shoto. Heh, you really thought I wasn't gonna do anything in return? Wrong. Huh?! Oi, water ain't gonna do shit. Get the milk. Don't chug it! Shoto, just drink it like a normal human being. Goddamn."
"Ugh… It still burns. It feels worse. Damn. You've poisoned my food, burned my mouth, and brought a plague upon my mind."
"I did? Why the hell does that sound like a modified reference to something? But I get it, I get it. No need to be so damn salty and dramatic. It's just soba."
"Just soba? You were right. I did declare war on the wrong person."