Chapter Summary: Yoru brings out salmon for dinner.
Asa had gotten used to life at the apartment. Nowadays, she'd wake up early enough to find Yoru in the kitchen, preparing breakfast to bring over to the orphanage. Most of the time, she'd help out, though never at the adult's insistence; the first few times, she even snapped and demanded the teen not get in her way, though Yoru was quick to apologize, and gave her a comforting rub on the back of her hand. They hadn't had any similar incidents since.
Lunch was something she had to take care of herself, as she'd pack something before heading off to her new junior high school, or just grab something on the way; she rarely got food from the cafeteria. Yoru did give her an allowance, initially for the purposes of buying lunch at school, but Asa chose to buy something cheap from the convenience store and set aside the change. Then, with money saved up, she could do personal groceries to make herself something healthier everyday.
Yoru wasn't too happy about it when she saw that the fridge was more full than usual, but continued to give Asa her full allowance regardless. She even added in an extra 500 yen some days, too.
Dinner was always some leftovers from the orphanage, just enough for Asa and Yoru to eat together when the latter came home; before, she stayed at the orphanage until after the youngest children were put to bed, but with Asa now in her care she came home earlier.
("The older ones don't mind picking up some of the slack," Yoru said during dinner one night. "They're family over there, and they know I have to take care of you too.")
("They don't have to," Asa muttered as she picked away at some veggies.)
("Well, they do." Yoru tried to push the plate of stir-fried chicken towards the teenager. "Make sure you stop by once in a while to say thanks.")
Tonight was no exception, as another assembled plate was set before her. In uncharacteristic excitement, the cat had jumped onto the nearby sideboard, and eyed the food. A scoop of slightly warm rice, a small plate filled with vegetables soaked in a vinegar sauce, and…
A piece of roasted salmon.
Asa stared at her plate as Yoru took her own seat. "Well? Eat."
The teen tried to not frown at the sight of it. "I-I don't…"
"Allergies?" Yoru returned, that ever blunt tone present. Asa could never get used to it, always finding herself caught off-guard.
"N-no, I just…" Asa sank in her seat, as feelings of shame crept into her very bones, threatening to make her run from the dining table. "I-I can't eat fish."
"It's not gonna bite you." Despite her insistent tone, Yoru hadn't touched her plate either.
"Fish just… It grosses me out," Asa admitted, fiddling with her thumbs under the table.
Yoru stood up from her seat, taking Asa's plate with her. "Go to your room."
Asa's eyes went wide, and her hand came out from under the table, as if to reach for her plate. "W-wait, Yoru, I—"
"I'll make you dinner," Yoru said in that firm and demanding tone, shutting down any attempt for Asa to be complacent or appeasing. "I should've known. I'm sorry."
Asa watched as the adult went to the kitchen, then flashed an intense gaze in her direction. With a dejected look, the teen stood up from the table, not paying attention to how the cat followed behind her steps.
It hadn't been twenty minutes when a knock came at her bedroom's door. "Asa, dinner's ready," Asa heard Yoru call out, her voice muffled by the wood. She then listened to the fading echoes of the steps before climbing out of bed.
Stepping into the main room of the apartment, Asa found Yoru's plate exactly as it had been left, the rice and salmon having long-gone cold. As she sat down, Yoru set down a plate in front of her, the food steaming hot, with sauce drizzled messily as if some attempt at presentation had been made. Strings of cabbage poked out from the edges, with the whole being bound by some sort of batter. It was okonomiyaki! She had it once when she was younger, though that had been long ago; she knew what it looked like, but could hardly remember the taste.
"Eat." Once more, Yoru's blunt tone pulled her from her reminiscing.
With her chopsticks, Asa moved to break off some of it with apprehension. Sure, it wasn't a piece of fish sitting before her now, but Yoru's reprimanding was still fresh in the teenager's mind. Pulling away a small piece and using her breath to cool it off, she brought it to her lips as the immediate sweetness and tartness of the sauce coated her tongue, followed by the savoriness of the pancake. "M-mm!" She felt her eyes narrow, though not from her lids—instead, with her cheeks, as a dumb smile graced her features. She went for another bite immediately, almost forgetting to swallow.
"That good?" Yoru prodded, her head tilting as her own chopsticks pulled away from her mouth; she had just started eating away at her salmon.
"It's tasty," Asa answered, alternating between her rice and the cabbage pancake, until the euphoria wore off and her shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry you had to waste a piece of salmon just to make me this…"
"I didn't waste anything," Yoru said, as she ate another bite. "I just mixed the salmon in there, since you're so picky." She watched as Asa's jaw dropped, and before the teen could say anything, "Don't give me that; you already ate half of it."
Asa glanced down at the plate; it wasn't quite half, but there was a considerable dent in the okonomiyaki.
"One of the older orphans taught me how to make this while they were in my care, though usually to get the younger ones to eat more vegetables," Yoru continued, as she took some of her pickled vegetables onto her rice. "I made sure to really mix up the salmon, just so you can't taste it."
Asa gave the older woman a nod before digging in once more. If she focused, she could make out a faint fishy flavor, or maybe the fibrous meat, but she had to put in a lot of mental effort to do so. Even with that knowledge, however, she quickly polished off her plate, being left with a few clumps of rice in the separate bowl.
"So, um…" Setting her chopsticks on her plate, she glanced up at Yoru, as the adult glanced up from her food. "Why did you choose to run an orphanage?"
Reading her expression, Yoru seemed more focused on eating dinner than trying to consider her words. "I didn't."
"O-oh…" Asa glanced away, afraid she might be digging somewhere she shouldn't. "I'm sure you had other things in life, right?"
"No. Just where my life took me." As if to focus on the discussion at hand, she proceeded to take the rest of the salmon as one large bite, stuffing it between her lips, followed by some long chewing, then a heavy swallow. "If anything, remaining rooted in place and waiting for lost souls to come my way has been… enlightening." Yoru leaned back in her seat and let out a sigh. "I've done plenty of wandering looking for children I never had any chance of meeting again…"
"Your sons, right?"
"And daughters," she answered, as a melancholic smile graced her features, her moving cheeks causing those pale scars to glint in the light.
Asa felt some uneasiness wash over, though seeing the smile not fade from Yoru's face didn't put her off. "So you don't regret it?"
"I don't regret that all I can do now is look after orphans. My only regret is what led me to 'here'. That's all."
"Well… I'm glad we met, then." Asa bowed her head deeply, unknowing that Yoru didn't quite care for such gestures. "Thank you for taking me in."
"Right… You're welcome." Yoru stood up from her seat, taking both hers and Asa's plates. "Do you want seconds?"
"S-seconds?"
"I had to chop up a head of cabbage for this, and I don't want the rest to go to waste." Stepping into the kitchen, she clicked the stove alight as she scooted a mixing bowl nearby. Whether Asa agreed or not, there was going to be more okonomiyaki tonight.
Despite her dislike for fish, Asa was very happy that Yoru had set aside the salmon skin. Knowing how the cat had eyed the salmon during dinner, it was a joy to watch Crambon devour his treat with gusto.
Without asking if she needed help, Asa stood at the sink, helping Yoru clean up as the caretaker took stock of the fridge. Aside from leftovers, and whatever Asa bought for herself, most of the space was dedicated to making huge batches for the orphans' breakfast, and whatever couldn't fit in the orphanage's fridges. She'd just have to get an extra cabbage whenever the next chance came, as she tucked what was left into Asa's corner; hopefully, she would appreciate some extra ingredients to work with for her lunches.
"You mentioned your kids before," Asa said, as she scrubbed out the mixing bowl, trying to get every last dollop of batter with a scouring pad. "When we first met, too."
Yoru closed the fridge, the dull thud echoing throughout the small space. "I did."
"Do you have a big family?"
The older woman moved to grab a rag by the sink before beginning to wipe the counters, holding her other hand by the edge to catch any debris. "Very big… I have three sisters, too." Before Asa could ask about them, Yoru turned her head towards the teen. "I don't keep up with them, so don't ask."
"I-I wasn't…" That was a lie; Asa was totally about to ask. "But what about your sons? And, um, daughters, too…?"
"I… Don't keep up with them, either," she answered, her voice carrying less energy, perhaps a touch of tiredness. "But, I know they're still out in the world, shaping it."
"Doing good things, right?"
"And some bad."
Asa held back the urge to laugh at the immediate contradiction, if only because it felt inappropriate to do so. "I-I guess they can do some dumb thin—"
"Do not call them dumb." That blunt tone once more, as Asa's head whipped over to look at Yoru. The older woman stood there, hands balled into fists at her sides, as a scowl found itself onto her face. "My children are very lovely."
That laughter Asa held back turned into a nervous giggle, as she saw the angry expression on her caretaker's face. "W-we all do dumb things, y'know?"
Yoru continued to hold her gaze before letting out her sigh through gritted teeth. "We do, yeah… I know I've done my share." Yoru stepped close, placing the rag near the sink, before turning her head to look at Asa. "Don't call me dumb, either," she muttered, as that angered expression returned.
It had nearly caused the teen to drop the bowl into the sink. "I-I wasn't!"
Author's Notes: It means "Shit on a Shingle".
I wanted to get two chapters out as a proof of concept, to nail down the dynamic between Asa and Yoru.
Also, these probably come off more as one-shots than a continuous narrative; I'm realizing that's just my style.