Whereas Declan didn't see it as his, at all. He bought it for Aoba, and it was up to Aoba whether or not there was enough for both of them. Even if the Titan bought as much as seemed necessary to support two appetites, he still felt it best to ask. With the indication that it was open season, however, he wasted little time in serving up a plate, getting noodles, fried and white rice because he didn't want to miss out on either, some red colored meat that smelled sweet, some orange meat that had tiny seeds on it, some sort of steamed...pocket...thing...There was a great deal of variety, and Declan didn't shirk vegetables, scooping out broccoli and other things dripping in some unidentified brown sauce.

Then he opened up a pair of chopsticks and just...stopped. How...? Pale eyes slid sidelong, looking at Aoba's hand, trying to mirror the hold. Long white fingers fumbled, a crease forming between his brows as he fought to control digits that usually obeyed him without a thought. Why was it so hard to balance two sticks in one hand? Was there some trick to it he wasn't seeing?

"Aoba...are we supposed to eat this way?" Because it was worth asking, no matter how much he wanted to attempt it.