There was one point where Aoba glanced over and realized by the loll of Declan’s head that the Guardian had dozed off. Was it weird to think it was kind of cute? Sure, you had this big guy the size of a bulldozer, with weird glowing eyes and no pigment at in his skin or his hair, and that deeply resonant voice…and he was dozing off on the couch with a tiny dog balanced over his thigh.
He’d been so nice, so helpful…and hadn’t asked for a damn thing in return. You didn’t meet a lot of people like that. Aoba wasn’t even sure that he could have been so nice if he’d found himself in Declan’s boots.
When it came to the point where the stew just had to simmer, soaking in the stock and seasonings, Aoba wandered to the window for a while and stared out at an alien Earth. There were more portals out there somewhere…but who knew where the next one would take him? When there were infinite worlds out there…could you even calculate the chance that your next portal would be the one home?
Sighing quietly, Aoba returned to stove to check on things. The potatoes and carrots and onions seemed nice and soft, so he started adding the thin slivers of meat and watched them change colors in the stock, richening the smells throughout the little apartment. Not long after that, Declan stirred and the bell rang. Ren padded into the kitchen space while Declan dealt with the door (phew), and when the big Guardian shuffled over Aoba gave him a grin.
“Perfect timing! Here….” He picked up the brand new bowl and loaded it with a hefty serving of the nikujaga. It smelled right, at least. Hopefully he hadn’t cooked the vegetables too long or added too much seasoning. Some of the things he’d gotten were ‘close guesses’ after much debating over Tess’s catalogue.
Loaded with the meat, veggies, and with just a bit of the broth ladled over it all, Aoba held the bowl back to Declan. “Here you go. Hope you like it. Granny’s a better cook than I am, but it’s hard to get nikujaga wrong.”
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He’d been so nice, so helpful…and hadn’t asked for a damn thing in return. You didn’t meet a lot of people like that. Aoba wasn’t even sure that he could have been so nice if he’d found himself in Declan’s boots.
When it came to the point where the stew just had to simmer, soaking in the stock and seasonings, Aoba wandered to the window for a while and stared out at an alien Earth. There were more portals out there somewhere…but who knew where the next one would take him? When there were infinite worlds out there…could you even calculate the chance that your next portal would be the one home?
Sighing quietly, Aoba returned to stove to check on things. The potatoes and carrots and onions seemed nice and soft, so he started adding the thin slivers of meat and watched them change colors in the stock, richening the smells throughout the little apartment. Not long after that, Declan stirred and the bell rang. Ren padded into the kitchen space while Declan dealt with the door (phew), and when the big Guardian shuffled over Aoba gave him a grin.
“Perfect timing! Here….” He picked up the brand new bowl and loaded it with a hefty serving of the nikujaga. It smelled right, at least. Hopefully he hadn’t cooked the vegetables too long or added too much seasoning. Some of the things he’d gotten were ‘close guesses’ after much debating over Tess’s catalogue.
Loaded with the meat, veggies, and with just a bit of the broth ladled over it all, Aoba held the bowl back to Declan. “Here you go. Hope you like it. Granny’s a better cook than I am, but it’s hard to get nikujaga wrong.”