[He seems just as happy to talk to himself. But pleasanter than he sounded before, when he thought he was alone. He's gruff on the outside, but he's a people person at heart, isn't he? Rin can't help but smile at his back, watching him work. Is it because his company is a girl that he can act like this, or because he's in his element here in the kitchen? Maybe it's both.
He cooks like he tells a story. The completed dish is the happy ending, and every ingredient played a valiant role in the tale to get them there. What a goober. If she weren't still playing the silent treatment, Rin wonders what he'd do if she told him it was cute.
The amusing daydream is ruined a bit, when she bites into another slice of rutabaga. Chewing very carefully, she's been going at a snail's pace with it as it is for just this reason: every time she swallows, it hurts. Even doing that, this time on the way down it still catches, sharply this time. She gags in surprise, coughing suddenly and face strained with faint pain.]
[At this stage in their acquaintance, Rin won't be surprised at the speed in which Sanji drops his attention from the soup and wheels over to her aid. A split second's fantasy - (her fainting daintily in his strong arms, requiring the sweet, pure resuscitation that can only be shared between a devoted knight and a noble lady~!!) - dies once he sees that she's safe. Just grimacing from pain and still not talking. His mouth thins.
Jeez, here he'd been planning not to press her, but this is getting worrisome. Sanji will gladly hold the stupid ball so long as it doesn't mean a lady in pain. His gaze turns all the sharper as a result, looking for clues before his eyes rest on her face.]
You need some water? Wait a sec-- [He's getting her a glass even if she refuses, and might be of a mind to press the issue if that's what it comes down to]
[Eyes clenched shut, she peeks one open and wiping wetness from the corner to see what he's doing. Turning a little red from the embarrassment of being fussed over like this (likely another flag), Rin shakes her head, waving her fingers ahead of herself and finally opens her mouth.]
—fine. It's fine.
[There was something else said there, at the beginning, but cracked and thin, it got lost coming out of her mouth. The rest of the sentence is audible, but very raspy.]
[She does get him to stop, if only very briefly. His hand is halfway into the cupboards when he turns to look at her. The expression he wears is one of faint amazement, as if surprised she really thinks that's gonna be enough to stop his rampage.
Sorry, but that cracked, raspy voice all but sealed her fate.]
Did you get a cold? [Is that what a cold sounds like? He never got sick as a kid, and so sounds unconvinced of his hypothesis] Pretty sure you need liquids for that. [He's muttering to himself again, revamping his efforts and heading to the refrigerator for some chilled water when he... stops. In front of the stove, as if possessed by a lingering thought.
His eyes rest not on the pot of soup he's been painstakingly preparing, but the other pot without a lid. The one he'd finished earlier and had left to slowly cool on the burner. His fingers twitch around the clear glass in deliberation, tracing out his thoughts for anyone to see. When he eventually unwinds from the moment, it's with the purpose of a decision made.]
Wait a sec. [Sanji repeats his previous words, but changes trajectory. Now he sets the cup down and trades it for a small bowl. A gentle, almost paranoid hand dips a ladle into the thick soup and pours the liquid inside (no longer hot, just warm with the comfort of home).]
[At the question, as Sanji's back was already turning, Rin had shook her head vehemently. What's worse? Being sick, or admitting the truth? To Rin Tohsaka, either equally feel like an affront to her pride. She's not that weak.
To rub salt in the wound, he's flipping out about this even more than she thought he would; not a showy stream of mushy affection to ~heal~ her she could just brush off, but honest to goodness concerned. Anxious, even. A complete 180 from his previous behavior, hovering over that second pot he almost looks like an alien in his own kitchen.]
I'm not—
[She cuts herself off as he turns around again, voice cutting off not with coughing, just a frustrated look. It's not him, it's her. She should've just gone hungry for tonight, instead of risking making herself look like an idiot. She's tempted to just take the soup and go, but his behavior is unnerving. What's going on here?]
[At her question, Sanji's visible eye ticks away - a brief admittance of worry that he won't vocalize]
It might not work at all. [He's tried it already; the fact that he's standing without doubling over in pain means he avoided any adverse effects. But if it'll do what it's supposed to, that part he doesn't know. Rin had snuck into the kitchen during that phase of the testing.]
But I figure we should try and see if it'll help with your throat. [Still not... really explaining anything, are you, Sanji? At least he notes Rin's frustration and takes it into account (though for the wrong reasons), drawing up with a smile] Oi oi, I don't mean it's dangerous! [Proving his claim, he fishes out a spoon and samples his own work.]
[While her voice cracks briefly, Rin nonetheless looks at the soup with new, if wary, interest. Work, not work. That's the kind of things you say about regular soup like what he was making for her before this, something to help but no promise. But this one he offers like there could be a real benefit, or at least hopes for one.
She wasn't expecting anything dangerous, not until he brings it up himself. That just gets a baffled look, and now she's wondering. Maybe he's the one who's sick, and he originally made it for himself? It could be worth clarifying again, more firmly.]
[Huh... well, his eyebrow arches at that admission, caught in mild surprise (and something else, though that's quickly pushed away). But alright, he believes her.]
That's fine; getting rid of a shitty cold wasn't why I made it.
[Which means he's gonna have to start explaining the details, eh? Rin doesn't strike him as someone who will take anything else. Plus he realizes he might've gone and sent her on a paranoia trip, he's got no one to blame but himself, and after some mulling...]
This soup heal injuries. [He stares at her with narrowed intrigue.]
[And she meets his gaze back, without budging. It might come off challenging, but she's really just weighing her options in her head.
A soup that heals injuries? That's just specific enough to her problem that there's no way she'll turn it down, and yet accepting it after that explanation is as good as admitting that's what it is. She tries to minimize the damage by showing further and genuine interest.]
How would it work in conjunction with healing abilities? Or... [She takes the spoon, stirring the soup.] Non-injuries. You could be onto something very special, if it could even replenish mana.
[He's a chef who's able to (maybe) create magical soups that heal all fatigue and reset wounds, and yet Rin's interest and possible praise seem to catch Sanji off-guard, like he expected an argument and was still in the throes of mental preparation. His calculated concern drops off his face with all the grace of a block of wood]
I'm not sure, Rin-chan! Never tried it on someone who could do shit like that. [He gives his chin a thoughtful rub. He mumbles to himself] Don't know what mana is, either.
[Rin makes a face at him; it's an outright pout, really. But she can't be too fussy with him. There's cultural differences to consider too.]
It's more likely you know it by a different name.
[Unless he possesses a very unique ability he can use innately, without understanding its mechanics. Sanji doesn't seem half as much of an amateur, though, compared to the people she would expect that from. Rin rolls up her sleeve, passing mana not just through her body, but along her Magic Crest as well. Glowing, blue-green lines dance over her left arm, from forearm to wrist.
It's the first time she's shown it to him, but that means very little. The day they met, he'd revealed he could feel her using it. If he can do that much, she knows he must have the ability to sense mana. Unless she passes mana through the Crest, as she is now, it would be impossible otherwise. And that means he can feel it in other people as well.]
What is it you're sensing, when you detect this? Or in any person around you, for that matter.
[This would be the third time Sanji's zeroed in on Rin's left arm: the first when they had met each other, the second during the battle with their shadows, and now... this, here in the kitchen.
But it's the only time he's watched it glow in broad light, not hidden in the confines of her sleeve. The color is different from an aura, more electric and heated, and it even feels... different. The words necessary to point out the distinction don't come easily. His mouth draws into another thoughtful line.]
It's-- [Stopping to gather his thoughts; it doesn't escape his notice that he's never bothered to explain the details of his Observation Haki before] I sense auras. Like a person's soul. [Exactly like a person's soul, in all honesty] That's why I noticed your arm.
[It's not that he's ever felt an abundance of power from the crest itself... except yes, he had? His brow furrows. At the very least, there had been a potential buried in those entwined auras, like a book filled with ancient script. But it's more than that. It's--]
That thing on your arm, it's not just your aura. More like you got a bunch of 'em etched in there.
[Ah. She can understand him a little more clearly now.]
That's— [She coughs again, weakly. Looking away then back, away and back, flustered, she starts over as smoothly as she can.] That's a refined sense you have, to pick that much out. I'm a little envious.
[He must be especially suited for it, to be able to do so without a drop of magical potential. A rare or unique origin, perhaps, though she shouldn't limit her thought processes to the rules of her world.
It's a digression, too. Dropping her arm to the table, Rin reaches for the spoon. Delicately, she sips at the broth before continuing, making a satisfied sound at both the taste (top-notch as ever, as expected) and how it soothes her throat.]
The aura, as you describe it, isn't always the soul itself, but the energy it produces. Mages call this energy mana, and it exists in every living thing.
[There's a note of surprise in this throat when Rin takes that first bite. He'd been ready to gently insist she give it a try; whatever her personal feelings on his "magic soup", listening to her poor vocal cords scrape together a sentence is not encouraging, and it's only through effort that he's kept himself from asking what happened to her.
Thus his concerns are slightly mollified watching her sample the dish. Questions rise in his throat - can you taste the slight hint of ginger? All him, that wasn't even apart of the original recipe - or is your throat beginning to feel better - but he settles for focusing on the direction Rin has decided upon]
I getcha. So like when a fire gives off heat. [Or smoke. He mulls over that as he repositions himself, gives a slight slouch against the island counter with his hands in his pockets. It'd explain why measuring Rin's strength has always been a tricky business - maybe even why he underestimated her prowess in battle once before.]
[She nods with an approving smile; excellent comparison, Sanji. That's exactly what it's like. Rin takes a few more spoonfuls of the soup before setting her spoon down to more properly address his next question.]
Yes and no. Mages turn mana into magical energy; accordingly, it's the basis for everything we do. But not all magecraft has a combat focus. Listing all the potential uses I know of would take too long, but I'll use healing as an example.
My guardian was a spiritual surgeon. He could use his magecraft to treat almost any kind of wound.
[Reluctant as she is to admit it, a fact is a fact. It's the only praise she'll allow herself to give Kirei. Rin pauses on the pretense of clearing her throat, huffing and taking another little spoonful of soup then sets it down to try again.]
I'm not as skilled as him, but I can do the same for certain injuries. And so long as I have mana to create magical energy, even if I'm unconscious, this Crest in my arm will also work to heal me quickly.
[Rin lays a hand over her arm, and the lines still aglow there. She smiles at him.]
[Fitting of a proper audience, Sanji's eyebrows notch higher and higher as she explains, until he lets out an amazed whistle. Shit, that's an impressive resume this mana has. The basis for everything - very much like how auras were explained to him, but so much more.
And in-between, he notes her word usage - guardian - with faint curiosity before moving on.]
It helps keep you alive, eh? [He shifts a little, mulling over his question] Does it just do that automatically? ... Like it wants to?
[Whether or not Rin can tell, Sanji is trying to form a question around the potential sentience of such a thing. Can it think? Does it have its own will? Can it override Rin's? After all, what Sanji sees is a bunch of auras interlocking with the girl's - and there is something chilling about that]
[Now it's Rin's turn: one eyebrow arches delicately at his word choice of "want". It's probably only because she does know the true nature of the Crest that it strikes as odd; that she suspects where he might be going with it. The surprised look fades.]
Yes and yes. [Tilting her head, there's a gleam in her eyes, impish and gleeful, that only disappears when she closes them and beams at him with a full smile.] Survival is it's #1 priority. When it comes to that, you could say it has a will of its own.
[BLANCHING and leaning back, that is the exact answer he didn't want to hear. Thanks Rin-chan, you are such a team player. D8]
Oi now! It can't take over you, can it? That sounds dangerous! [He tries to imply a level of danger beyond what they deal with on the daily, but there's no denying he looks wary and flustered by the Crest instead of fascinated. Now it strikes him twice as unsettling]
[Always happy to help! Or get amusing reactions! 8D
And what a reaction it was. Sanji looks so deeply unsettled, so honestly worried for her (paling and all!) that... Well really, Rin can only laugh. It's not so scraped and raw sounding as the rest of her voice; as merry as she sounds and practically glowing from delight, he could have just told her a delightfully amusing tale about his day rather than voice a real fear for her safety. As funny as she finds it, she does feel a little bad for him though, and tries to stop laughing long enough to explain.]
It can't— ha. [Her laugh turns into a cough. Whoops, still got the giggles. Another little cough and she waves her hand, trying to calm down. Give her just a sec here.] Sorry, sorry. Your expression was too funny.
[SHE LOOKS... SO HAPPY. And there's honest pleasure in knowing she's still got enough laughter in her despite all this, but it's also one of those rare occasions where Sanji can't for the life of him trace the line of humor until Rin says it outright. Oh boy she's one of those kinds.
It's okay, he loves her anyway. At least she didn't say his eyebrow was hilarious]
Aaaah, like the tinkle of bells, Rin-chwan's laughter~! [Just gonna roll with it, now looking amused himself. Besides, she's put some of his concerns to rest; if she's laughing at his expression and his statement, the crest can't be dangerous.]
[She sticks out her tongue with a yuck expression, poking fun at herself too.]
This is delicious; I can tell you that much. If it can do all that you're describing, we should give it time to kick in. [She smiles, pointing her spoon at him.] I bet by the time I polish off the bowl, I can give you a full review?
[Hm. So no instantaneous effects then. That's one question answered, and he considers the thought with some disappointment, wondering if it's a result of lacking skill or simply the way of the recipe.
Then again, that shitty geezer did say something about a chef's worth being comparable to fixing his own goddamn mistakes.]
[With that seal of approval, Rin goes back to eating (letting her Magic Crest fade back into invisibility too). Halfway through the bowl, she realizes something she neglected to consider before.]
Hmm... [A noise part way between an appreciative hum and a curious thought; she sets her spoon down for a moment.] Actually now that I'm thinking of it, this is the first meal I've had in a few days that hasn't irritated my throat further. Even other soups haven't gone down this smoothly.
[As if testing to make sure, Rin scoops up the biggest piece of chicken she can find in the soup. Chew chew, swallow. It doesn't hurt at all, like even the finely chew rutabaga had. Maybe she'll ask for seconds?]
[Quick as a beat, Rin's praise wipes away Sanji's previous self-criticisms and he straightens, eagerly launching into an explanation with a pleased wave of his finger.]
Salt's good for inflammation, for instance -- and I added a bit of anise. Had to crush the seeds and the boil 'em separately, and then season that to get the shitty flavor I wanted, but I say it was worth it. [Rambling: the true sign of a mad genius in his chosen field. Sanij walks back to the soup pot and gives it a fond stir, chirping out random facts about ginger of all things, and how he's noticed it's a key ingredient in a lot of the recipes he got from--]
Ah... an island. [A pause, in which he flaps his hand in front of his face, trying to steer the conversation off-course] That's where I got this recipe. If it works for Rin-chan, then those two years of hell were worth it~!
["Shitty flavor," he says. Sanji, please. Sometimes Rin wonders if he hears the way words come out of his mouth, the way he uses swears as adjectives. When he's rambling excitedly like this, she would guess not.
But it's fun to see him talk like this. Rin knows she must be the same whenever she gets into the topic of really explaining magecraft. More than once with Shirou, she can recall starting on one subject only to be at a different topic altogether ten minutes after, unsure of how they got to that point.]
Two years of hell?
[Psst, Sanji. If you want to steer a subject off course, maybe don't describe it with such interesting hooks! But no, Rin knows better than to root around in someone else's business, and transitions expertly.]
Amazing. That sounds a lot more intense than Chinese medical cuisine.
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He cooks like he tells a story. The completed dish is the happy ending, and every ingredient played a valiant role in the tale to get them there. What a goober. If she weren't still playing the silent treatment, Rin wonders what he'd do if she told him it was cute.
The amusing daydream is ruined a bit, when she bites into another slice of rutabaga. Chewing very carefully, she's been going at a snail's pace with it as it is for just this reason: every time she swallows, it hurts. Even doing that, this time on the way down it still catches, sharply this time. She gags in surprise, coughing suddenly and face strained with faint pain.]
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[At this stage in their acquaintance, Rin won't be surprised at the speed in which Sanji drops his attention from the soup and wheels over to her aid. A split second's fantasy - (her fainting daintily in his strong arms, requiring the sweet, pure resuscitation that can only be shared between a devoted knight and a noble lady~!!) - dies once he sees that she's safe. Just grimacing from pain and still not talking. His mouth thins.
Jeez, here he'd been planning not to press her, but this is getting worrisome. Sanji will gladly hold the stupid ball so long as it doesn't mean a lady in pain. His gaze turns all the sharper as a result, looking for clues before his eyes rest on her face.]
You need some water? Wait a sec-- [He's getting her a glass even if she refuses, and might be of a mind to press the issue if that's what it comes down to]
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—fine. It's fine.
[There was something else said there, at the beginning, but cracked and thin, it got lost coming out of her mouth. The rest of the sentence is audible, but very raspy.]
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Sorry, but that cracked, raspy voice all but sealed her fate.]
Did you get a cold? [Is that what a cold sounds like? He never got sick as a kid, and so sounds unconvinced of his hypothesis] Pretty sure you need liquids for that. [He's muttering to himself again, revamping his efforts and heading to the refrigerator for some chilled water when he... stops. In front of the stove, as if possessed by a lingering thought.
His eyes rest not on the pot of soup he's been painstakingly preparing, but the other pot without a lid. The one he'd finished earlier and had left to slowly cool on the burner. His fingers twitch around the clear glass in deliberation, tracing out his thoughts for anyone to see. When he eventually unwinds from the moment, it's with the purpose of a decision made.]
Wait a sec. [Sanji repeats his previous words, but changes trajectory. Now he sets the cup down and trades it for a small bowl. A gentle, almost paranoid hand dips a ladle into the thick soup and pours the liquid inside (no longer hot, just warm with the comfort of home).]
Try this instead.
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To rub salt in the wound, he's flipping out about this even more than she thought he would; not a showy stream of mushy affection to ~heal~ her she could just brush off, but honest to goodness concerned. Anxious, even. A complete 180 from his previous behavior, hovering over that second pot he almost looks like an alien in his own kitchen.]
I'm not—
[She cuts herself off as he turns around again, voice cutting off not with coughing, just a frustrated look. It's not him, it's her. She should've just gone hungry for tonight, instead of risking making herself look like an idiot. She's tempted to just take the soup and go, but his behavior is unnerving. What's going on here?]
Why? What's different about it?
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It might not work at all. [He's tried it already; the fact that he's standing without doubling over in pain means he avoided any adverse effects. But if it'll do what it's supposed to, that part he doesn't know. Rin had snuck into the kitchen during that phase of the testing.]
But I figure we should try and see if it'll help with your throat. [Still not... really explaining anything, are you, Sanji? At least he notes Rin's frustration and takes it into account (though for the wrong reasons), drawing up with a smile] Oi oi, I don't mean it's dangerous! [Proving his claim, he fishes out a spoon and samples his own work.]
See?
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[While her voice cracks briefly, Rin nonetheless looks at the soup with new, if wary, interest. Work, not work. That's the kind of things you say about regular soup like what he was making for her before this, something to help but no promise. But this one he offers like there could be a real benefit, or at least hopes for one.
She wasn't expecting anything dangerous, not until he brings it up himself. That just gets a baffled look, and now she's wondering. Maybe he's the one who's sick, and he originally made it for himself? It could be worth clarifying again, more firmly.]
Although I'm honestly telling you, I'm not sick.
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[Huh... well, his eyebrow arches at that admission, caught in mild surprise (and something else, though that's quickly pushed away). But alright, he believes her.]
That's fine; getting rid of a shitty cold wasn't why I made it.
[Which means he's gonna have to start explaining the details, eh? Rin doesn't strike him as someone who will take anything else. Plus he realizes he might've gone and sent her on a paranoia trip, he's got no one to blame but himself, and after some mulling...]
This soup heal injuries. [He stares at her with narrowed intrigue.]
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A soup that heals injuries? That's just specific enough to her problem that there's no way she'll turn it down, and yet accepting it after that explanation is as good as admitting that's what it is. She tries to minimize the damage by showing further and genuine interest.]
How would it work in conjunction with healing abilities? Or... [She takes the spoon, stirring the soup.] Non-injuries. You could be onto something very special, if it could even replenish mana.
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I'm not sure, Rin-chan! Never tried it on someone who could do shit like that. [He gives his chin a thoughtful rub. He mumbles to himself] Don't know what mana is, either.
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It's more likely you know it by a different name.
[Unless he possesses a very unique ability he can use innately, without understanding its mechanics. Sanji doesn't seem half as much of an amateur, though, compared to the people she would expect that from. Rin rolls up her sleeve, passing mana not just through her body, but along her Magic Crest as well. Glowing, blue-green lines dance over her left arm, from forearm to wrist.
It's the first time she's shown it to him, but that means very little. The day they met, he'd revealed he could feel her using it. If he can do that much, she knows he must have the ability to sense mana. Unless she passes mana through the Crest, as she is now, it would be impossible otherwise. And that means he can feel it in other people as well.]
What is it you're sensing, when you detect this? Or in any person around you, for that matter.
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But it's the only time he's watched it glow in broad light, not hidden in the confines of her sleeve. The color is different from an aura, more electric and heated, and it even feels... different. The words necessary to point out the distinction don't come easily. His mouth draws into another thoughtful line.]
It's-- [Stopping to gather his thoughts; it doesn't escape his notice that he's never bothered to explain the details of his Observation Haki before] I sense auras. Like a person's soul. [Exactly like a person's soul, in all honesty] That's why I noticed your arm.
[It's not that he's ever felt an abundance of power from the crest itself... except yes, he had? His brow furrows. At the very least, there had been a potential buried in those entwined auras, like a book filled with ancient script. But it's more than that. It's--]
That thing on your arm, it's not just your aura. More like you got a bunch of 'em etched in there.
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That's— [She coughs again, weakly. Looking away then back, away and back, flustered, she starts over as smoothly as she can.] That's a refined sense you have, to pick that much out. I'm a little envious.
[He must be especially suited for it, to be able to do so without a drop of magical potential. A rare or unique origin, perhaps, though she shouldn't limit her thought processes to the rules of her world.
It's a digression, too. Dropping her arm to the table, Rin reaches for the spoon. Delicately, she sips at the broth before continuing, making a satisfied sound at both the taste (top-notch as ever, as expected) and how it soothes her throat.]
The aura, as you describe it, isn't always the soul itself, but the energy it produces. Mages call this energy mana, and it exists in every living thing.
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Thus his concerns are slightly mollified watching her sample the dish. Questions rise in his throat - can you taste the slight hint of ginger? All him, that wasn't even apart of the original recipe - or is your throat beginning to feel better - but he settles for focusing on the direction Rin has decided upon]
I getcha. So like when a fire gives off heat. [Or smoke. He mulls over that as he repositions himself, gives a slight slouch against the island counter with his hands in his pockets. It'd explain why measuring Rin's strength has always been a tricky business - maybe even why he underestimated her prowess in battle once before.]
I assume mages use this mana for combat?
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Yes and no. Mages turn mana into magical energy; accordingly, it's the basis for everything we do. But not all magecraft has a combat focus. Listing all the potential uses I know of would take too long, but I'll use healing as an example.
My guardian was a spiritual surgeon. He could use his magecraft to treat almost any kind of wound.
[Reluctant as she is to admit it, a fact is a fact. It's the only praise she'll allow herself to give Kirei. Rin pauses on the pretense of clearing her throat, huffing and taking another little spoonful of soup then sets it down to try again.]
I'm not as skilled as him, but I can do the same for certain injuries. And so long as I have mana to create magical energy, even if I'm unconscious, this Crest in my arm will also work to heal me quickly.
[Rin lays a hand over her arm, and the lines still aglow there. She smiles at him.]
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And in-between, he notes her word usage - guardian - with faint curiosity before moving on.]
It helps keep you alive, eh? [He shifts a little, mulling over his question] Does it just do that automatically? ... Like it wants to?
[Whether or not Rin can tell, Sanji is trying to form a question around the potential sentience of such a thing. Can it think? Does it have its own will? Can it override Rin's? After all, what Sanji sees is a bunch of auras interlocking with the girl's - and there is something chilling about that]
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Yes and yes. [Tilting her head, there's a gleam in her eyes, impish and gleeful, that only disappears when she closes them and beams at him with a full smile.] Survival is it's #1 priority. When it comes to that, you could say it has a will of its own.
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Oi now! It can't take over you, can it? That sounds dangerous! [He tries to imply a level of danger beyond what they deal with on the daily, but there's no denying he looks wary and flustered by the Crest instead of fascinated. Now it strikes him twice as unsettling]
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And what a reaction it was. Sanji looks so deeply unsettled, so honestly worried for her (paling and all!) that... Well really, Rin can only laugh. It's not so scraped and raw sounding as the rest of her voice; as merry as she sounds and practically glowing from delight, he could have just told her a delightfully amusing tale about his day rather than voice a real fear for her safety. As funny as she finds it, she does feel a little bad for him though, and tries to stop laughing long enough to explain.]
It can't— ha. [Her laugh turns into a cough. Whoops, still got the giggles. Another little cough and she waves her hand, trying to calm down. Give her just a sec here.] Sorry, sorry. Your expression was too funny.
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It's okay, he loves her anyway. At least she didn't say his eyebrow was hilarious]
Aaaah, like the tinkle of bells, Rin-chwan's laughter~! [Just gonna roll with it, now looking amused himself. Besides, she's put some of his concerns to rest; if she's laughing at his expression and his statement, the crest can't be dangerous.]
Oi, is that soup working at all?
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[She sticks out her tongue with a yuck expression, poking fun at herself too.]
This is delicious; I can tell you that much. If it can do all that you're describing, we should give it time to kick in. [She smiles, pointing her spoon at him.] I bet by the time I polish off the bowl, I can give you a full review?
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[Hm. So no instantaneous effects then. That's one question answered, and he considers the thought with some disappointment, wondering if it's a result of lacking skill or simply the way of the recipe.
Then again, that shitty geezer did say something about a chef's worth being comparable to fixing his own goddamn mistakes.]
Alright, I'll hold you to that.
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Hmm... [A noise part way between an appreciative hum and a curious thought; she sets her spoon down for a moment.] Actually now that I'm thinking of it, this is the first meal I've had in a few days that hasn't irritated my throat further. Even other soups haven't gone down this smoothly.
[As if testing to make sure, Rin scoops up the biggest piece of chicken she can find in the soup. Chew chew, swallow. It doesn't hurt at all, like even the finely chew rutabaga had. Maybe she'll ask for seconds?]
It's soothing. Literally.
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[Quick as a beat, Rin's praise wipes away Sanji's previous self-criticisms and he straightens, eagerly launching into an explanation with a pleased wave of his finger.]
Salt's good for inflammation, for instance -- and I added a bit of anise. Had to crush the seeds and the boil 'em separately, and then season that to get the shitty flavor I wanted, but I say it was worth it. [Rambling: the true sign of a mad genius in his chosen field. Sanij walks back to the soup pot and gives it a fond stir, chirping out random facts about ginger of all things, and how he's noticed it's a key ingredient in a lot of the recipes he got from--]
Ah... an island. [A pause, in which he flaps his hand in front of his face, trying to steer the conversation off-course] That's where I got this recipe. If it works for Rin-chan, then those two years of hell were worth it~!
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But it's fun to see him talk like this. Rin knows she must be the same whenever she gets into the topic of really explaining magecraft. More than once with Shirou, she can recall starting on one subject only to be at a different topic altogether ten minutes after, unsure of how they got to that point.]
Two years of hell?
[Psst, Sanji. If you want to steer a subject off course, maybe don't describe it with such interesting hooks! But no, Rin knows better than to root around in someone else's business, and transitions expertly.]
Amazing. That sounds a lot more intense than Chinese medical cuisine.
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