Food for Thought [Fue/Moriko]

Moriko stands outside the double doors, her form tense. She stares through the door's windows, her eyes glued to the groups of people milling about the cafeteria. Her heart thumps unnervingly loud in her chest. Her hands are clammy and a small tremor moves through them at irregular intervals. Every time she comes to the meal hall, it feels like she's about to lose a piece of her mind. It's a terrible sensation, since eating is something that she takes great joy in. The juxtaposition is not a pleasant one.

At least there's much less people during dinner than there is during lunch time. It's late in the evening, after most of the dinner rush has ended. Even as she watches, a group of chatting and laughing girls heads her way. Stepping aside, she silently watches as they push both doors open wide, their noise increasing as they enter the same space as her. The group of girls don't even glance at her as they pass her by.

Taking a deep breath, Moriko slips in behind the group, being careful to hurry through the doors before they close on her. Movements quick, she hunches her shoulders slightly and heads directly to the where the food is at. Her teal eyes dart every which way, taking in the sights of the people both standing and sitting. She makes sure that her path never directly converges with anyone else's, skirting around the larger groups and dodging the smaller ones and single folks. Despite having been at Fukui Academy for a little while now, she's yet to get used to the crowds of students. Especially when they're all in one room. Even if that room is a fairly spacious one. So many people...

Gulping nervously, she manages to make it to the food line with little issue and no interaction. Snagging a tray, she goes up to the counter and gives her order in a strained voice. The serving ladies all know her and her odd mannerisms by now. Since she's never haughty, demanding or rude, they don't seem to mind. In fact, due to her short stature and thin frame, some of them seem to have even taken a liking to her. That, or they feel bad for her. If nothing else, she always seems to get larger portions than is usual.

Thanking the ladies quietly, she turns and pauses. Now the hardest part. Does she stay in the cafeteria or does she find somewhere else to eat? And if she does stay, where should she eat? Gaze drifting around the room, she instantly spots a dimmer, quieter corner off to the side. Most evenings, various lights around the room are dimmed in sections, to give a softer, sleepier atmosphere. Due to this, dinner is Moriko's favorite time as compared to the other main eating periods.

Nodding to herself, Moriko heads directly towards the section she'd spotted. The way is clear of people and the table she's chosen to sit at seems empty. Carefully, she sets her tray of food down. Still standing, she stares down at her sweaty palms, willing them to stop trembling. Why am I like this? she wonder plaintively. A sigh escapes her as she slowly sinks into her seat.

She's so absorbed by her distress, and certain that there's no one around, that she's neglected to realize that there is indeed someone sitting nearby.

It had been a long day, a miserable day. School was hard enough with the confusing signals and advice she was getting from her photography teacher. But now that she'd joined a club, life was more complicated and full of other people. She regretted joining the yearbook club immediately but the fallout hadn't struck her until she'd realized how often she had to walk into a room full of people she didn't know. Talk to them, tell them what they needed to be doing, and then photograph them all while being the center of attention as the intruder. It was incredibly taxing for somebody who would rather be in the background unnoticed at worst and entirely absent at best.

She had a lot of work to do tonight as well. Not just developing and sorting the photos but actual schoolwork. Fue knew how busy she would be though and had put in an order early in the day. A delicious and simple meal of tomato soup and a ham and cheese grilled sandwich. It would be easy to take a picture of, it would be warm and comforting, and she could eat it quickly. Unfortunately, something had gone wrong as it so often did. What she had been given was minestrone soup. The sandwich was also less than perfect but she could at last work with that. Chunks of ham were harder to doctor than a full slice after all but Fue was confident in her skills. The soup on the other hand...

Tomato soup was easy because it was thick, it was generally smooth, and it was red. A few slices of tomato on top, or a sprinkle of cheese, heck, even a dash of pepper would make it pretty enough. And it would compliment the sandwich well. Minestrone was...a mess. It was chaotic, the ingredients were haphazard and uneven. The soup itself wasn't exactly clear but you could definitely see through it. Moving to a dark area didn't help, shining red lights or lights of any color didn't make it any less cloudy. If anything, it just highlighted the jumbled mess of stuff in it. Fue had to work this out.

The first step was the sandwich. That didn't take long. Careful cutting with her scalpel got her a fairly nice diagonal slice and the ham was not too disturbed. She did have to use the tweezers to adjust it a bit further but the cheese was still warm and that didn't take more than a few minutes and the whole thing was done after about twenty minutes. It was a good warmup and relaxation tool before she tackled the minestrone. She tried pushing things around, rearranging the ingredients in the bowl. That did not work. Then she tried moving them aside and covering it up with a slice of sandwich but that looked awkward. She got desperate and moved to carefully removing all the solids from the soup and placing them on a spare plate. It was...annoying. And when she'd finally finished, there was still a cloudy pool at the bottom of the bowl with a clear pool above it.

Fue put her head in her hands and rubbed her temples. She'd been at this for over an hour now. Just the soup. The cheese on the sandwich had gone rubbery and cold. But she couldn't just eat it, she might need it to support or hide elements of the soup. Her stomach was growling and still the soup wasn't any good. She was trying to sort the ingredients on the plate, to pick and choose the right proportions before she put it all back in. Fue didn't want to have to dig it out again. Then, she began adding the portioned out ingredients back in, one from each type, at a time. When it turned out that the cloudy bottom was not going to go away, she finally just gave it a stir. She'd have to live with that and find a way to make it look less muddy.

Moriko stares silently, but appreciatively, at her food. Leaning forward, she takes in in the blissful scent wafting from her tray. Sitting before her is a large bowel of tanuki udon, with a small grilled mackerel and a bowel of white sticky rice on the side. The wonderful serving ladies had even thrown in a few tempura veggies as an extra treat. The steam rising from everything just speaks of good things to come. Her stomach rumbling, Moriko picks up her chopsticks and is about to dig in, when movement in the corner of her eye distracts her.

Looking up, she turns her head a bit to the right, in the direction the flash of movement had come from.  A thrill of shock runs through her. For there, right in plain view, is another person sitting on the other side of the table. And she's not all that far from her either. How did I miss her? she wonders, distressed at her lack attention. She'd been so focused on getting away from the crowds that she'd not paid particular attention to the table she'd picked. It's away from the larger groups, in a darker part of the room and it's quiet. There should have been no one around and it had seemed like it. But that is clearly not the case.

Gaze focused on the other girl, Moriko frowns. She can't see who it is at the moment, because the other girl's head is in her hands. But she does notice how odd the other person's eating area looks. The food is all spread out, with different ingredients sitting here and there. Leaning forward slightly, she stares at the food. It kinda looks like it's gone cold. That, and as if it's not actually been eaten, only shuffled around. What? Why isn't she eating? A low growl emanates from the other girl, easily reaching Moriko's ears despite the slight distance between them. This only increases her confusion, adding a touch of disbelief to her thoughts.

The other girl slowly raises her head and starts picking at her food. Her movements are careful and concentrated as she moves a pile of the food into the bowl sitting on her tray. Those peculiar motions seem vaguely familiar to Moriko, but she can't quit place them. It's not until the other girl starts stirring whatever is in the bowl that she raises her head high enough for Moriko to get a good look at her face.

Blinking in surprise, Moriko can't quite believe her eyes. It's been a good while since the two of them had conversed, but she recognizes her table mate immediately. Her teal eyes wide and glittering in the dim lighting, she stares openly at the first student she'd ever met at this school. Without thinking, she blurts out the other girl's name, her tone filled with her surprise and disbelief.

"Fue??"

Fue was desperately trying to figure out how to make the soup look less murky and awful. She had organized vegetables, meat, and noodle in patterns but they all looked so unpleasant. It was manufactured minestrone, good for writing but not for eating and certainly not for looking at. If it was a more professional attempt, she'd have almost no soup in the bowl and the bowl itself would be more like a plate with a high bottom. The ingredients would rest on top of each other and the broth would be lit so as to reflect light rather than reveal the nothing underneath it. Right now, she was getting a whole lot of nothing.

She began to rearrange her chunks of chicken for the hundredth time when she realized somebody was coming over to her table. It was Moriko from that time in the woods by the track. With that memory came the extra shame she had brought down on herself with the way she'd acted. It had been both embarrassing and awful and now the girl was coming to her table. Fue tried to focus on her food but her food was distracting lay imperfect as well. This was looking like an awful night and she hadn't even started her homework. Fue added a few more vegetables to her bowl and stirred it around to unsettle the cloud of tomato particles in the soup.

Moriko sat down but didn't say anything. This was awkward, Fue didn't want to break the silence but the silence was just so full of tension and her stomach was already tying itself up in knots because of the hunger. This wasn't helping. Suddenly, it was perfect, for just a moment, the swirling soup did...something. It had just the right amount of energy, movement, fluidity. Moriko shouted her name, Fue flinched, the moment was gone.

Well, it wasn't a shout, exactly. It was an unexpected noise, not entirely out of place but it was her name. And Moriko had been so quiet. Fue just hadn't expected it and so she flinched, chopsticks still in the bowl and it disrupted the whole whirling pattern she had going. Fue dropped her head into her free hand and fought back the unpleasant feelings welling up. "Sorry, Moriko. I was trying to focus on the soup. I guess I was a little distracted." Moriko must have thought Fue hadn't known she was there or something. They'd both been so quiet. Fue started to circle her chopstick in the soup again, trying to recapture that perfect swirl.

Fue flinches at her voice, a sign of discomfort and surprise so obvious that even Moriko can't mistake it. Despite the clear indication that the other girl had heard her, she doesn't immediately look up from her soup bowl. Instead, her head falls into the hand not holding the chopsticks. Without even looking her way, Fue speaks to Moriko, her voice flat and despondent. All in all, it doesn't seem like her rusty haired companion is particularly happy at this moment.

She looks so... defeated... Moriko frowns at the thought. She watches as Fue once again starts to stir her cold and sluggish soup with her chopsticks. She's not eating again. Her brow creasing in concern, she gives a quiet reply. "It's okay. I didn't see you there before. I was too focused on..." She suddenly cuts herself off, not wanting to talk about her intense unease around large groups of people. She shifts uncomfortably in place, not sure what else she can say or do. She still feels pretty awkward, since their last encounter hadn't ended all that well.

Once again, her stomach rumbles. A sigh escaping her, Moriko turns her attention back to her own meal. Though she keeps a curious watch on Fue from the corners of her eyes.

Reaching out, she pinches one of the tempura veggies in her chopsticks and brings it to her mouth. Moriko takes a tentative bite, being mindful of the heat emanating from the food. The warmth rushes in, the breading crisp and delightful. It crunches against her teeth in a most satisfying way. The inside is a buttery yellow-orange and soft against the roof of her mouth. Oh! Sweat potato! Moriko gives a low hum of appreciation, the flavor washing across her taste buds and the scent rushing into her nose. Her eyes close temporarily, her mouth curled up in a blissful smile. The treat, and two similar others, vanish down her throat before she realizes that she should probably slow down.

Doing so, she pauses and returns her attention back to Fue. Who is still stirring her soup. Blinking, Moriko leans forward to get a better look. Her curiosity and worry cause her to glance down into the cold swirling substance in the bowl. Gaze rising to look directly at the other girl's face, Moriko asks a simple question.

"What are you doing?"

Fue kept stirring her soup hoping for that magical instant to be created through random chance but it wasn't to be. She sighed. "I'm trying to fix this soup." This would not be the first time she had to explain herself to somebody. Certainly the habit was an odd one so she had only herself to blame when it annoyed her. It had been going on for quite awhile so she'd had lots of practice, and she'd gotten some examples from her parents also explaining her habits. It might not always be the entire truth, but a small lie that people could understand and make sense of was better than ages trying to explain some weird quirk with no true reason behind it.

"I take pictures of everything I eat and drink before I eat it. That way I have an easy record of everything I've been eating and how much." She added in another two pieces of vegetable and gave it another stir. "It's also good practice for my school work because I want to photograph food professionally." This really wasn't working out. Maybe she should just give up on the soup entirely. Maybe the universe was just against the idea of minestrone. "That way it helps me both academically and health wise so I don't end up gaining weight."

Fue's stomach grumbled. She may have gained a little weight since coming to the school but if this soup didn't come together right, she definitely wouldn't be putting on any more. It was still kind of weird that the girl didn't see her but everyone had their weird quirks. It was hard to judge somebody else after you'd been staring at a bowl of minestrone soup for nearly two hours. Fue kind of wished Moriko hadn't come and sat by her. She felt awkward enough doing this ritual most days and having somebody actually take interest was like having an audience and photography should not be a spectator sport. She plucked a bit of meat from the bowl and set it on the plate with the rest of the separate ingredients. It was throwing off the balance.

Once again, Moriko finds confusion to be one of the more prominent emotions within her. "Fix the soup?" she repeats, her gaze falling upon the clearly stone cold concoction that Fue continues to swirl glumly around. Pondering it for a moment, she can only think of one thing that could be considered wrong with the soup. "Well, you could heat it up," she suggests, her tone still a bit puzzled. Granted, some soups are just as good cold as they are warm. It's really up to the preferences of the person eating it. But, from her view-point, this is the only thing that she can think of that has 'broken' the soup.

Fue's explanation is one that she kind of gets. The first part she already knows about Fue, from their previous conversation those few weeks back. The second part is where her understanding is a bit lacking. Her grandmother needs to watch her diet due to medical reasons, so Moriko understands the requirement of keeping track of one's food for that purpose. But, as far as she can tell, Fue seems to be a fairly hale and hearty individual. Of course, one can't always tell from appearance alone. And then there's her worry about gaining weight.

Placing her chopsticks down onto her tray with a soft clack, Moriko rises from her seat. Resting the palms of her hands on the table, she leans forward, looming over Fue. From this angle, she's able to get a decent view of the the other girl. Frowning ever so slightly in concentration, she sweeps her eyes very slowly over Fue's form. Her head tilts one way, then the other, as she tries to maximize her observation, without moving from her position. Finally, her gaze comes to rest on Fue's face, her expression open and earnest.

"You don't look like you need to worry about weight. In fact, you look perfectly fine." Her head cocks curiously to the side. The knowledge about her grandmother's reason for watching what she eats still remains. Since Fue is keeping track, that would mean she has a similar reason, right?

Without missing a beat, she asks, "Are you sick? Is that why you need to watch what you eat?"

Even as she asks her question, Moriko hears Fue's stomach give forth yet another rumble. Starving herself can't be good for her, even if she's got a condition. Watching one's diet still means eating. Which Fue clearly has not done, and is still not doing. Teals shining with concern, she patiently waits for the other girl's answer.

Maybe she can help her out, if she knows more.

"It's not the temperature that's the problem." Fue muttered. "And I don't really care about the taste either. The problem is that it doesn't look very nice." She took out the chopsticks and tapped them against the plate with the soggy pieces she had pulled out earlier. "And if it doesn't look good, I can't take a picture of it and if I don't have a picture of it, I can't eat it." She picked up a few more veggies and added them back to the soup slowly before giving it a rapid stir again.

"That's nice of you to say, but the truth is in the pudding. And in everything else I've been eating." She reached over and adjusted her camera a little. She picked it up aimed it at the soup as she stirred it with her other hand and then switched to counterclockwise. The large bits and bobs all piled against the chopstick as the broth continued spinning. That wasn't too bad. Maybe she could work with that. "I've been putting off exercise and eating too much like I was actually running the laps I keep telling myself I'm going to run. Then I just sleep or do homework or look at pictures and get fat."

All things considered, it looked better all bunched up like this. The trouble was, it was a small pile off to one side of the bowl. She picked up the plate where she'd been storing the excess ingredients and poured it all into the bowl again with a wet plot. She stuck the chopstick in and gave it a stir to break it up and then swapped that for a spoon to gather the stuff into a pile in the center. "I knew I saved the sandwich for a good reason."

She got the nice pile protruding from the soup and stirred around the outside to get the broth nice and cloudy. "No, I'm not exactly sick." She replied. Sick was not the word for it. "It's just better for me this way, it helps me feel better." She picked up the split sandwich and lay each half across the bowl so that you could see the peak between them. "That's not bad." She began fiddling with her camera again, checking filters and light. This could turn out alright.

A frown tugs at Moriko's lips at Fue's words. As she'd observed, the other girl looks completely fine to her eyes. She can't see what her companion sees. But, she doesn't say anything more on the subject. It seems like Fue's convinced that she needs to do something about herself. And who is Moriko to say that she's wrong? She's not known the other girl for very long, nor does she know her all that well. So, even is she can't see the issues that Fue says she has, it doesn't mean that she's wrong.

Nodding to herself in agreement with her own logic, Moriko finds her focus drawn to something else that the other girl had said. "Exercise?" she asks, her head tilted in curiosity. Fue hadn't actually been doing anything physical when they'd first met. But she'd been outdoors, breathing heavily, and super sweaty. So maybe... Suddenly, realization dawns on her. "Is that what you were doing when we first met? Exercising?"

Even as she asks the question, the smaller girl finds herself watching Fue as she continues to mess with her food. Glancing between her still fresh food and Fue's decidedly not fresh food, Moriko pauses. Steam still rises from most of her dishes. All in all, it looks far more appetizing than what her table mate is currently fiddling with.

Hesitantly, for she's unsure how Fue will take her question, she asks, "Well, if you're not gonna eat your food, would you like some of mine? You can even take pictures of it, if you want."

"Yeah, exercising." It hadn't been much of an exercise, a bit of running and not even full and proper laps, she'd hardly been out there at all before she'd taken her first break and then she'd given uip after the rather disastrous meeting with Moriko. Well, no point in remembering that, they weren't great memories. Instead, she tried to focus on her camera. She gave the bowl a little stir under the bread and set the spoon off to one side.

"No, thank you. I've spent too much time on this as it is. I can't afford to lose any more of my night starting over on a new plate of food." She sighed and held her camera up to her eye and began to snap pictures. There were several rapid fire clicks as she shifted slightly to the left, then the right, then head on, and then stood up to get a more overhead view of the soup and sandwich. Fue sat down and looked at her camera screen. She bit her lip as she flipped through the pictures. That wasn't bad. It wasn't good, none of it was good, but it was good enough.

She set down the camera and picked up her spoon in one hand while the other set the sandwich on the plate. "I think I need to reheat this. Excuse me a moment." She got up and made her way to the cafeteria microwave and put the bowl in and set the timer. She stared at the box silently as the machine hummed and warmed her food back to something palatable. Then she carefully walked back to the table.

Fue completely rejects her offer to share her meal. Shrugging her shoulders, Moriko slowly sinks back down into her seat and watches as the other girl goes to warm up her food. She returns to her own meal, finishing off the rest of the tempura vegetables. She seems so… disappointed in her pictures, she observes a bit sadly. But at least she’s going to start eating now. Even if the food doesn’t seem all that appetizing. Which is a good thing, Moriko supposes.

Why does she feel like she has to take pictures of everything she eats, she wonders. She pauses as she glances down at her tray. The bowl of udon is still steaming, but the grilled mackerel and rice seem to have cooled a bit. Not wanting the fish to get too cold, she decides to start on that dish next.

Using her chopsticks, she eats a mouthful of rice. As she chews on that, she uses her chopsticks to start to pick apart the fish. Swallowing the rice, she scoops up a good chunk of the meat and pops it into her mouth. Instantly Moriko freezes as the flavor rolls over her tongue. Her eyes fall into a half lidded state as she chews slowly. A goofy smile takes over her face and a small sound of contentment resonates from her throat.

So good! she can’t help but think.

The expression on her face can only be described as blissful.

Fue set her food down and stared at it for a moment before sitting down. It was a disappointment, sure enough, but it was what she had been given and she just had to move on. She picked up the plastic cutlery and stirred the soup around to even out the temperature. It wouldn't do any good if parts of the bowl were still cold and other parts were very hot. She'd let that sit and average out and focus on the sandwich instead. She picked up a slice and took a bite. She looked across at Moriko who seemed to be enjoying her food a lot more than Fue was.

"So," she paused and tried to think of something to say. She wasn't used to small talk with people she didn't really know. "How is the school going for you?" That seemed safe enough, Moriko was sort of new and it could be hard to adjust, Fue knew she'd had trouble and Moriko seemed...shy was a good way to put it. Though maybe quiet was a more accurate term. It was hard to say since they hadn't talked all that much before. Fue dipped a corner of the sandwich in the soup and then took another bite. "You enjoying it here? I know it can be hard to adjust when you're from far away and now you're on your own."

Moriko snaps out of her food induced ecstasy when Fue returns to her spot at the table. Swallowing her mouthful of fish, she watches as Fue places her tray of reheated food onto the table, and then just stares at it for a moment. Her expression could only be described as... resigned? Yes, that's the word that comes to her mind. Resigned. And disappointed, too. Though that word had already been there.

Frowning in thought, she returns to eating her fish. Seems like they’re both not all that good a small talk. Silence once again stretches between them. The only sounds are the clinking of their silverware and the occasional scrape of dishes as they’re shuffled about. The soft drone of conversation drifts from other tables. It’s thankfully muted, since the more rambunctious groups seems to have already left. All in all, it’s actually rather peaceful in their little low-light corner. Moriko can feel herself relaxing, the tension bleeding out of her as she quietly eats with her equally quiet table mate.

This is nice, she thinks, stealing a quick glance at Fue as the other girl slowly works on her own meal. She’s not actually sat down and eaten a meal together with another human being in a long time. It’s… different.

She’s just finishing up the mackerel when Fue suddenly breaks the quiet with a question. Pausing, Moriko looks up at Fue, the teal of her eyes seeming deeper in the dim light. Thinking over the question, she glances down at what’s left of the the fish and starts to pick at the bones with her chopsticks.

“It’s been... all right. Everything is so different from back home.” Shifting her gaze nervously to a small group of people that’s headed in their direction, Moriko drops her voice a bit.

“There’s so many people.”

Fue took a few more bites and chewed each one slowly. Less savoring it and more just trying to think. It was weird, she didn't normally eat with a single person like this. It was strangely close, and it was harder than when she ate with her group of friends. Eating, like most of their activities, mostly gave her the chance to fade into the background and contribute as rarely as possible. That was the way she liked it, but when it was one on one like this, silences got awkward and there was nobody else to break through the ice.

"Yeah." She wasn't sure what else to say, really. Moriko must have come from a small town indeed if she was put off by crowds like these. Back home, it had been crowded streets and crowded buildings all the time. "Must be a shock." She said, trying to smile reassuringly. "Back home, I am always around people. At school there were many people, at the shops, and sightseers everywhere. So many tourists." She shook her head and had several more sips of soup. "And it was worse than that when I would visit my parents at work."

Not that there were more people, there were almost certainly less. However, everybody was trying to be in three places at once, especially when there was build up to a show. So many people running around, so many people trying to do makeup, alter clothes, set up lights, music, it was chaos. Fue liked that chaos. She felt like she could disappear into a corner and the world would pass by. She could see it as it went but it had nothing to do with her. It was even better than being alone.

Moriko continues to pick at the mackerel. Absently, she takes the fish bones and starts to place them in a pile. Any stray bits of meat that she gleans from the pickings, she immediately pops into her mouth. But her concentration is only partially on this activity. The other half is focused on the small group of people she'd spotted earlier. It's only four girls, but they're all strangers. Their path is a meandering one, as they wander from table to table, interacting with the various people and groups sitting at them. She can't hear their words, for they're too far away, but she can hear their voices when they raise them. And their laughter. As far as this evening goes, they are the loudest people currently in the cafeteria.

Her observations are broken into, though, when Fue speaks. Dragging her attention back to her table mate, Moriko takes hold of her rice bowl and begins to eat from it as she listens to the other's words. Nodding at the statement about shock, she pauses in her eating. Setting the rice bowl back down on the tray, she lays her chopsticks next to it. A few pieces of white rice cling to her cheeks and chin, but she doesn't notice. Staring down at the bowel, she sighs.

"Your home sounds stressful," she murmurs, her downcast eyes glued to the mostly empty rice bowl. "My home only had a few people in it. Me, my father, my grandmother, bother and... mother." A tremor worms it's way into the final word. She'd hesitated on it. Almost not said it. But then that'd mean that she was trying to forget her, and that isn't what Moriko wants. Not anymore. Though painful, memories of her mother are not something she wishes to erase.

Her hands clench as the old guilt and sorrow rises in her, still as raw as the day they were born. But this is not the time, nor the place, to be bringing such darkness to the light. One day, she's going to have to deal with them, but this is not that day. With a bit of difficulty, she wrestles those emotions and shoves them back down into the recesses of her mind. Taking a deep breath, she forces her hands to relax open. She presses them flat against the table, the food tray sitting between. The cold hardness of the table is a firm anchor to her present.

During this struggle, she'd been staring down at the rice bowl, her expression falling blank. Now she shakes her head, quite roughly, and raises her gaze to to Fue's face. Moriko leans forwards, her dark eyes questioning. Nervously, she licks her lips and asks the question that had risen in her at Fue's description of her home.

"How do you deal with so many people being around you all the time?" Her eyes flick briefly over to the cheerfully chatting group of girls. The group that has gotten even closer to their table.

Her gaze once again returns to focus on Fue. It's oddly intense, filled as it is with her desire for an answer.

If looks could burn.

Fue thought more about home. Well if you'd grown up in as small a company as it sounded like Moriko had, it kind of made sense that the crowds could seem intimidating. Fue followed Moriko's gaze toward the group of girls wandering past. Although, maybe Moriko had something a bit more than shyness troubling her, something a bit more severe. Maybe it was an actual phobia of crowds. Fue had no idea how that could be handled, maybe it was just something that would eventually pass for the other girl. She sipped at her soup again.

"I don't know." She said, quite honestly. "It's just, there've always been people around as long as I can remember. We had quiet dinners sometimes but there was always stuff do do and my parents were always in the middle of something. They just brought me along." She shrugged. "I think it's just something you get used to maybe." Fue felt like she was withering under the force of Moriko's gaze. She felt like no answer she had was good enough, she couldn't even manage to eat a bowl of soup without eating it, who was she to give anybody advice on life. Hell, she hid in a crowd, trying to avoid being picked out in any conversation. That was just another form of shyness really.

Desperate for some distraction and knowing that food wasn't going to cut it, Fue tried to figure out any way she could change the subject to one less fraught with peril. Nothing came to mind. In a small bit of panic, she picked up her knapkin and stood up, then leaned forward, reaching across to Moriko. With a bit of care, not unlike her mothers had done when she was younger, Fue carefully and gently brushed away the grains of rice that had stuck to Moriko's face.

"You should be a little neater when you eat, if you eat too quickly, you're going to give yourself an upset stomach." She chided. It was the kind of advice you gave kids sometimes, but it seemed appropriate. As wild and free spirited as Moriko was, there were moments where she seemed younger than Fue.

Disappointment pings through Moriko at Fue's words. She'd been hoping that there would be a trick to it, or something. But no.

"So, you need to have grown up being around so many people?" she asks, her voice muted. "Or get used to it..." she repeats, almost to herself.

A soft sigh escapes her and she finally breaks eye contact with Fue. Leaning back in her seat, she frowns down at her food platter. All that's left for her to eat is the bowl of tanuki udon. Steam no longer rises from it, but it looks like it's still warm. She's about to reach forward to check the temperature, when all of a sudden Fue stands up.

Eyes flicking up to the other girl, she freezes in place when Fue leans forward, towards her. Pale teals widening ever so slightly, she simply watches as her companion brings the napkin she holds in her hand to her face. She's quick and precises in her movement, but her touch is smooth and gentle. Moriko doesn't even flinch, for she feels no threat coming from Fue. Her frozen state is due more to her surprise, than anything else.

She feels the rice unsticking from her face as Fue removes them for her. How she'd missed them being there in the first place eludes her. Again, something she should be better about. Granted, she's not really had much company when eating for the past year. And the company she usually kept didn't much care for table manners. But at Fue's soft chiding, a slight blush spreads across her cheeks. The light dusting of freckles across her cheeks stand out in stark relief against the pink glow. Averting her eyes, Moriko stares down at her hands, which had moved on their own and were now fiddling nervously with her chop sticks.

"Oh, um. I'll try harder?" she murmurs, her gaze rising up to Fue's own, only to drop down once again to her fiddling hands.

She's not had someone clean her face for her in a long time. And not as softly in even longer a time. A mix of confusing emotions rises inside her, but one thought becomes her focus. Fue had been kind enough to make sure that she didn't walk around with food on he face. For all the world to see. She's quite grateful. And there's one way she knows for sure that can be used as a means to show her gratitude.

Ducking her head a little more, her blush deepens. It spreads to the tips of her ears and a tiny portion of it even burns at the back of her neck. Rubbing the burning spot, she peers back to Fue. A small, sheepish smile tilts her lips up, the red staining her cheeks easily visible. But, despite her embarrassment, she still looks the other girl directly in the eyes. Though this time, her gaze is much less intense.

Speaking quietly, her expression remains a bit bashful.

"Thank you."

From her eyes to her smile, everything about Moriko seems to be softer than before.

"I think everyone has to get used to it." Fue answered. She tried to be reassuring, to make it sound as if it wasn't some dauntless task that somebody had to go through. She hoped to make it sound like everyone had to do it. "It's just some people have to learn how to handle other people when they're little and others have to wait until they're a bit older and have more self control." Not that, it seemed, Moriko had all that much control. She'd heard the term about a person wearing their heart on their sleeve, but it was obvious that Moriko wore her emotions on her face.

Sitting back down, Fue smiled at Moriko. It seemed her gentle chidding had an effect, she hadn't wanted to upset the other girl but Moriko was still slightly embarrassed, if Fue was reading the girl's emotions right. What else could a red face like that mean? Everyone got a little embarrassed sometimes, that was how you learned to change your behavior, it wasn't bad, as long as it wasn't humiliating. Fue knew a little something about humiliation, that wasn't nice at all. "You're welcome, it's what friends do." They were friends, despite how badly she had messed up their previous meeting.

Fue turned her attention back to her own food and began to eat more of it. Occasionally she wiped her mouth off with her knapkin. It wouldn't do to appear messy after chiding Moriko, her mere might say 'do as I say, not as I do, but Fue didn't think that she could get away with that sort of thing. It was more of an adult saying, and a kind of annoying one. No, better to eat neatly and fastidiously. Though that could be shortened to fast.

She had been very hungry, hungry to start with and then the time wasted just staring at the food, trying to make it behave for the camera. So it didn't take her long to finish off the soup and sandwich, she was still a little bit hungry even after that but it would be better to let what she'd just eaten settle, in the throws of hunger, it was easy to overeat. better to give it time for her stomach to tell her brain she was full, if she was still hungry later, she could eat a cereal bar or something.

Friends. It's this word that Moriko's mind latches onto. An electric thrill shoots through her. She's never really had all that many friends. Not ones around her own age, that is. And now here's a girl proclaiming that they're friends! Which she'd hoped for, at their first meeting. But that had gone a bit awry. But now. Now Fue has proclaimed them friends! And in such a nonchalant manner, too! As if it's a given. A simple fact. A non-question.

Fue returns to her seat and her meal. Quietly watching her, Moriko can't help the slight widening of her small smile. It even reaches her eyes. They crinkle at the corners, their soft teal brightening with the happiness that Fue's simple words awaken in her. She's not felt like this in quite some time.

Taking the cue from her friend, Moriko also returns to her meal. All that's left for her to eat is her soup. Reaching forward, she pulls the bowl close to her. Despite having been sitting out for a little while, it's still warm. The perfect temperature to eat it at. Still grinning, she digs in. She tries her best to heed Fue's words and is careful in her movements. But the udon is so good that she still practically inhales it.

Even as she eats, though, she gives quick peeks up at Fue. It doesn't go unnoticed that the other girl is being careful about her own table manners. Forcing herself to slow down, she manages to polish the rest of her soup off without dripping too much of it onto the table. A small ring of liquid rests around her lips and flecks her chin and cheeks. This time, she can feel it.

It's not all that unusual for Moriko to make a bit of mess while she eats, so she's gotten into the habit of bringing a few napkins with her. Just in case she needs to clean up afterwords. Just like now.

Glancing around for her napkins, she spots the pile she'd brought with her. It's sitting a little to the side, and halfway between her and Fue. It must have been pushed back when she'd been shuffling the food dishes around. She'd been more careful than usual, though, so luckily the mess isn't too big. Pushing the empty bowl to the side, Moriko leans forward and reaches out for the napkins.

Fue was glad to see the girl smile, it seemed that her attempts to defuse the tension had worked and Moriko wasn't so bothered by the whole making friends in a crowd thing anymore. Hopefully that could be avoided in the future too, she'd have to be careful. Not that Fue spent much time in crowds herself, the other four girls that she considered friends were hardly a crowd, though Moriko probably would think differently. Oh well, it would be easy enough to keep them all separate. They probably wouldn't even notice if Fue was a little less social than normal.

Fue turns back to the last bits of her food and returns to eating in silence. This felt better, less awkward. She hadn't exactly become close to Moriko so a silent meal together was probably ok. And if Moriko wanted to say something, she could speak up at any time. She'd gotten used to silent meals since she'd come here. Back home, her parents would fill the silence with things that had been going on all day, or they'd be asking her how her day had been. There always seemed like something to talk about. Here, well, it all seemed the same, and the people she ate with had mostly the same stories because they all shared classes. Plus, it wasn't as if they were interested in her new photography plans.

With her food done, all that was left was the clean up. Even if you tried to be neat, there was always something. She reached out for a knapkin that she had assumed was in the middle for them both to share. Her hand met Moriko's unexpected and she pulled back quickly. "Oop, sorry. Go ahead." She said with a smile. That was kind of awkward. She'd just let Moriko take her knapkeen and then she'd grab one to clear off her area before putting away her food tray and bowl. After which, maybe she could take care of her camera and then do her homework without it getting too late. It would be nice to go to bed at a decent hour for once.