Well, that was a—sort of familiar-looking platter of food. Aoba watched that piece vanish down Mac’s gullet and wondered what the heck sort of future fish was green. The conversation was putting something of a damper on his appetite, but the platter was bizarrely eye-catching with all its shapes and styles of sushi…which, as far as Aoba was concerned, was a special occasion type of food rather than a meal staple. Curiosity served well in getting him to pick up a pair of chopsticks and starting to investigate…until Mac went and said that last thing that he did.
Aoba jolted, the flush of color in his face refreshed, frustrated to hear it said so indifferently by someone outside his head as well as inside of it.
“Definitely not!” he blurted, flustering in place for a moment before just grabbing a random piece of sushi to shove in his mouth and silence himself with.
…it was a surprisingly strong assortment of flavors, but not bad.
no subject
Aoba jolted, the flush of color in his face refreshed, frustrated to hear it said so indifferently by someone outside his head as well as inside of it.
“Definitely not!” he blurted, flustering in place for a moment before just grabbing a random piece of sushi to shove in his mouth and silence himself with.
…it was a surprisingly strong assortment of flavors, but not bad.