Staff of Life [Moriko/Misha]

❝

If Misha was to be honest, it was a good thing that Mashiro was finding friends in Fukui. That the pianist would refer that newly-made friend to her was undoubtedly surprising, but when Misha put it into the perspective of their junior high lives, it made sense given how each of the Kitamura children ended up having their various circles of friends merge into singular large one. That's why she had no issues with Mashiro telling her new friend that Misha was open for a visit today in the kitchen classrooms as she worked.

Though 'open for a visit' was perhaps a misnomer. The countertops and tabletops of the autumn-dyed kitchen that Misha had reserved for the afternoon were full of ingredients, bowls, trays, all sorts of tools, and scraps of paper with notes written in Japanese, English, and Russian strewn about in a systematically messy manner. It was hardly a setting for peaceful conversation, lack of chairs notwithstanding. Since Mashiro mentioned that this Moriko Byrne was rather interested in food, Misha figured it would be better for the visitor to see what it was like to be working in a kitchen.

And so a mix of smells and sounds permeated the hallway as Misha diligently worked. Admist the clatter of metal against metal was a solitary voice, singing softly in Russian, a Cossack folk song celebrating how lovely it was to live, accompanied by the alluring smell of freshly-baked bread.

Today's task was more an experiment. Bread rolls was a staple of the Shirayama Bakery, even though one could simply pick up a bag of it at the nearby supermarket, there was a certain flavor and quality to the ones that Misha's family baked that countless customers found worth the extra hassle of crossing the street from the train station.

Yet, there was always room for improvement; that was why Misha was in Fukui in the first place. Different techniques, different ingredients, tweaks, alterations, additions; all tested in a scientific manner for the sake of the family's business.

Yet, the singing continued, jovial and inviting, even if those who heard it could not understand a word.

tag(s): Moriko Byrne ━ words: 000 ━ notes:

by MIZO.❉ of ww

Padding quietly down the school hallway, Moriko glances nervously around. It's after classes, but despite that, there's still a quite a few students moving about the hallways. Most of them seem to be on their way to their respective clubs. A few of them seem to be just hanging around the school in small groups. All of them are chatting with each other, filling the hallways with laughter and noise. It doesn't make sense to her. Why would all these people remain in the school building, where all of their classes are held? Moriko usually escapes as soon as she's able. The less she's inside, the better in her opinion. But it seems she's of the minority when it come to that thought process.

Despite her usual habits, though, she's still here, inside. She sticks close to the walls, anxiously dodging groups of girls, trying her best to be as unnoticed as possible. Her pace is fast, her gaze darting from one group to the other. She's making it clear that she's in a hurry to get somewhere, so don't bother her! Even though this is unintentional on her part, it works well enough. A few girls from her class wave at her, which she gives a halfhearted one in return as she continues on her path.

She's finally gotten used to the amount of people in her class. Mainly because the size and people stays relatively consistent. And she always makes sure to arrive early, so that she doesn't have to worry about the morning crowds. But when classes let out, she's always nervous. The hallways fill with people, rushing all around, bumping into each other. Suffocating, crushing, too many bodies in too tight of quarters. So when Mashiro had sent her a message, telling her when and where she could meet with this cooking friend of hers, she'd been worried.

First off, it's in a part of the main building that she's never visited before. So she's not quite sure where the classes are located. Secondly, this means that she'll be running into teachers and students alike that she doesn't know. Normally, she'd be super excited to explore more of the main building. But not while there's still so many people around!

Finally, after a few wrong turns, she's made it to the right hallways. She can tell immediately, for she catches a whiff of the inviting scent of something cooking. The farther down the hallway she gets, the stronger the smell becomes. As does the sound of a rather lovely voice singing. It's in a language she doesn't understand, but it still sounds good to her. The clattering of dishes is recognizable to Moriko, despite not having heard it all that often the past year.

Arriving at a cracked door, Moriko peaks into the classroom. Inside, she spots the form of a girl bent over something on the counter. This is where the singing and scents are coming from, without a doubt! Taking a soft breath, she steadies her resolve and steps into the room. Moving silently, she arrives at one of the counters. Pausing, she watches as the girl continues to work, her back to the short girl.

A quick glance around the room shows that there's no other people besides them in it. That's a relief! Licking her lips, for she's still quite nervous, she decides to announce her presence. She calls out, her voice low and hesitant, "Misha Shirayama?"

She'd agreed to this meeting after all, it's only right to not keep her waiting.

❝

Vivacious song hid the methodical and scientific nature of Misha's work, as she slid trays of rolls in and out of the oven. The top one had replaced vegetable oil with olive oil, and another had a hint of rosemary oil. And as she closed the lid, Misha came to the startling realization that for all the bread she baked, she had no plans ahead for seeing how they tasted, beyond perhaps giving it to her family that was here. An oversight, but perhaps the saving throw would come from the girl who called out her name.

"<Ah, Miss Moriko Byrne,>" Misha replied, speaking in perfect English, albeit with that polite, almost aristrocratic tone of voice. Maybe it was too formal that what was needed, but it was the tone that Misha had learned and was used to, finding it better to err on the polite side. Without breaking her stride, she slid the two trays of finished bread onto the countertop and gracefully curstied, all in one smooth step.

"<Sadly, despite being a place so closely tied to food, a kitchen is a workplace, and that unfortunately means Miss Byrne will need to pardon me for the lack of seating. Of course, there is also something that you can help me with right after, if you wish,>" Misha continued, moving over to a series of bowls that were waiting mixing. They were the last set of rolls that were to be made and Misha wanted to get them done with what little time she had left so that she could also properly speak to Moriko as well.

"<So, my little Mashiro has told me a bit about you, and I would like to thank you for taking good care of her.>" Like clockwork, Misha continued to work, locking the bowls into the mechanical mixers, a luxury that her family only recently was able to enjoy. "<And you must permit me to wonder, what brings an esteemed carver such as yourself to the kitchen here?">" Misha asked with a chuckle, starting to clean up as the bowls mixed. "<My little Mashiro did tell me about how mention of our family's shops seemed to pique your interest. But what about it?>"

tag(s): Moriko Byrne ━ words: 000 ━ notes:

by MIZO.❉ of ww

It's much to Moriko's surprise when the other girl speaks to her in crisp, clear English. It's also much more formal than what she's used to hearing. In fact, she finds it to be rather disconcerting to be called 'Miss'. And no one ever refers to her by her whole name. At least, not unless she's in trouble or a teacher is doing roll call. She opens her mouth to mention this, but snaps it closed when the other girl pulls out two trays from an oven and places them on the counter. The scent wafting from them strikes her right in the saliva glands. Reflexively she swallows, her eyes locking onto the two trays. Is that... bread? she wonders, her nose twitching at the enticing scent suffusing the room.

Her attention is grabbed by motion in her peripheral. Dragging her gaze back to the other girl, Moriko finds herself startled when she drops into a graceful curtsy. She'd taken an involuntary step back at the sudden motion. But she does not run or back away any farther than that. It's mostly the scent of the rolls that roots her in place. But also, she doesn't sense any hostility or ill will from the other girl. The much taller girl, Moriko realizes as Misha rises from her curtsy to her full height.

At the mention of Mashiro, she gives a hesitant nod.

"<Ah, well...>" she mutters, her slight Irish accent adding an odd lilt to her English. Her eyes once again drift over to the rolls. "<Mashiro told me about your shop.>" Shifting uncomfortably in place, she gives a sideways glance at Misha's face, trying to gauge how the other girl will react to her next statement.

"<It interested me... >" Turning to face Misha more directly, she gazes right into those blue-gray eyes. Her own teals shining with enthusiasm, she grabs at the bottom of her shirt and leans forward. "<...'cause I like to eat!>"

As if on cue, her stomach gives forth a rather loud rumble. Cheeks coloring, she looks down at her feet. The grip on her shirt had tightened in her discomfort, crumpling her shirt even more than is usual at this time of day. She's not all that embarrassed about her eating habits. In fact, she's quite open about them. The more people know about them, the less they generally bother her about them. But for her stomach to follow on the tail of her words? Now that is!

Once again shifting uncomfortably in place, she peeks up at the much taller girl, her blush fading as curiosity takes hold of her. It's in remembrance of something Misha had said earlier.

"<Ah... What did you mean by something I can help with? And after what?>" she asks, her question softer than her previous statement.

❝

Clunk-Clunk. Whirr-Whirr. Clatter.

Even as Moriko spoke, Misha continued her work, pulling out the bowls of dough and wrapping them in saran wrap. It was too late to bake now, but enough time for the dough to rise. They would be for tomorrow's work. But Misha wasn't worried, especially not that she had someone helping her.

"<You did not need to, but it looks like you brought your appetite with you, ufufu...>" Misha chuckled as she set the dough aside in a cooler bag. "<Excellent, for the task that you can assist me with...>" The Russian paused dramatically as she walked in front of the trays of baked bread, then pivoted dramatically, facing Moriko head-on. "<...is to try out these breads and see which are the ones you like and do not like.>"

Pale eyes narrowed into an wry gaze, like some mystic who already seemed to know the answer. "<You are also in a rather unique and beneficial position as well. You have not been to my family's bakery in Tokyo, correct?>" Sweeping hands made for overly-dramatic gestures, but the showmanship was something Misha did enjoy. "<Here before you are various bread rolls, some with obvious alterations, others with more....subtle differences. While I would not call it a challenge per se, but only one set out of these is the original recipe that we sell.>"

A cunning and mischievous wink finished off Misha's explanations and the baker moved back to the sink to start washing off the last set of bowls and utensils. Multitasking was a skill that seemed to have been ingrained, as Misha deftly washed and chatted at the same time.

"<Of course, not all the rolls are done baking, so you can't try them all now, but, go ahead and feel free to take one and take a bite from the ones that are already done."> Breaking away from the work in front of her, Misha turned and gave Moriko a softer smile before focusing again on scrubbing the last stubborn bit of dough off a spatula. "<Now, something tells me...well, everyone likes food, inasmuch as it is needed to keep living, but you...is there a story behind being such an afficionado?>"

tag(s): Moriko Byrne ━ words: 000 ━ notes:

by MIZO.❉ of ww

Moriko watches curiously as the other girl wraps some dough filled bowls with saran wrap and sets them to the side. Her eyes flick between Misha's actions and the delightfully steaming bread sitting just off to the side. She swallows once again as Misha moves in front of the bread. With a sweeping gesture, the other girl suddenly spins around and proposes that she help her try out the fresh bread!

Eyes widening in surprise, Moriko places her hands on top of the counter and leans forward. Rising to her tip toes, she peers excitedly into Misha's eyes.

"<You mean it? I can help you eat the bread?>", her words are slightly breathless with her anticipation. She can't help how her eyes stray to the platters full of bread as Misha explains what she's made. When Misha moves back over to the sink, Moriko slips over until she's standing right in front of the rolls. Once again rising to her tip-toes, she leans in and takes in a deep breath. The scent of the rolls washes over her and fills her mind with it's intoxication. Her reverie is broken into when Misha once again asks her a question.

Turning around to face the other girl, Moriko asks, her confusion clear in her voice, "<Aficionado?>" That's a word she's never heard before. But she thinks she understands, from the context of what Misha had said previously. "<You mean, why do I like food so much?>" she cautiously inquires.

Tilting her head to the side, she frowns in thought. "<I've always liked to eat,>" she says, tacking on "<a lot>" after a brief pause. Clasping her hands behind her back, she rocks slightly back and forth on her heels as she recalls. "<My grandma always wonders where I can put it all,>" she adds, a small smile tugging at her lips, before it fades away into a solemn expression. "<But for the past year, I've not had much food I didn't cook myself.>" Unbidden, images of fish and rabbit cooking over an open fire fill her mind. Shaking her head clear of the memory, she returns her attention back to Misha.

"<I'm not bad at cooking. But I'm not amazing either. And after a while, you just want to eat something different, right? Something done by a real cook.>"

Here, she throws a longing glance at the bread.

"<It's been a while since I've eaten bread>", she murmurs softly, the yearning in her tone hard to miss.

“

Without music, life would be a mistake.

A soft chuckle was Misha's response to Moriko's excitement. Mashiro did tell the older girl that Moriko seemed to have a higher-than-average interest in food, but this was beyond Misha's expectations. The baker was expecting that she needed to tiptoe and be more gentle, but it seemed like food was enough to break through. A master of multitasking, Misha continued to listen to Moriko's story behind her appetite. There really wasn't anything deep or extensive, not that Misha needed such an explanation. Mention of a grandmother was an interesting, and Misha's mind breifly jumped on the notion that the grandmother had been a caretaker for much of Moriko's life before dismissing it as baseless speculation. After rising off the spatula, the baker set it on the drying rack, amused by the notion of 'real cook'.

"Well, Japan is not a country that consumes as much bread as the United States," Misha replied, noticing that the entire time she was cleaning up, Moriko didn't even try any of the rolls yet. The baker was sure that she invited Moriko to eat, but perhaps this was latter's shyness taking over. Maybe there needed to be another push. She gestured to the rolls again, chuckling at the longing face that Moriko was making. "Please, try one. Try as many as you like. Please, food isn't meant for sitting around and looking pretty."

In a single graceful motion, Misha walked past the table and picked up one of the rolls, examining it. It was one of the experimental ones, one that was supposed to make it taste a little more buttery. The Russian glanced to her side towards Moriko before taking a bite, nodding afterwards. It was difficult for Misha to tell if she succeeded in getting the buttery taste; it was there, but it wasn't _substantial_. But at the very least it wasn't any worse. Satisfied for now, Misha strode over to another cabinet, opening it and starting to rummage through it.

"Now, while you are more than welcome have your fill, I do not expect you to eat it all, and perhaps that is for the best," Misha remarked, pulling out of the cabinet the last phase of her plan: paper boxes. She was planning from the start to take home more than a few rolls, and perhaps distribute to her family and perhaps Nao-chan, but she figured the Moriko would do well with a box or two of her own.

[ Moriko Byrne | #WORDS | ♫MUSIC | NOTES ]

MADE BY KAIZU OF WW AND TWF

Moriko can't help the small smile that takes hold of her at the comment about food not being meant for sitting around and looking pretty.

"<I know someone who'd disagree with that,>" she says, amusement coloring her words. Fue had immediately popped up in her mind. The finicky food photographer goes to great lengths to make sure her pictures are perfect. Often times to the point where the food isn't all that appetizing any more. It's still something that Moriko doesn't fully understand, seeing how much she loves to eat herself. But she's kinda gotten used to it by now, since they've been eating together quite regularly.

She shakes herself out of her thoughts, though, when Misha steps over to the bread and picks one up. Taking that as her own cue to start, Moriko reaches forward and plucks out a roll from the same tray that Misha had taken hers. The heat of the bread in her hand is a pleasant one. The smell is intoxicating and she can't help but to sniff at the roll just a few times more. Moriko is always hungry right after classes, so she doesn't drag out the appreciation any farther than that. With an excited grin, she takes a large bite out of the bread.

The light fluffy texture fills her mouth, it's heavenly scent suffusing her senses and it's heat rolling comfortably to the back of her throat. Her bite is big enough that her cheeks puff out a bit. Chewing the bread quickly, she swallows what's in her mouth and without hesitation scarfs down the rest. A low sound of delight escapes her and she's reaching for another roll before she's even finished the last bite. She's already halfway through the second roll when Misha starts to speak again.

Blinking in surprise, for she'd been focused only on the food she'd been eating, Moriko looks up from the hand holding the half-roll. She hadn't even noticed that the other girl had moved over to a nearby cabinet. Her face is smeared with the light buttery grease that covers the rolls. Finishing up the last bite, she directs a sheepish grin Misha's way.

"These are good!" she exclaims enthusiastically. Then her eyes widen when she sees the paper boxes.

"Are those for the rest of the rolls?" she asks out of curiosity, but also with a bit of anticipation. Would she get to take some back with her, for later? 'Cause that would be the best!

Moriko stares at Misha, her teals gleaming with her unvoiced hope.

❝

From the corner of Misha's eyes, she could see Moriko take a roll and sniff at it. Perhaps this girl was more of a connosoiuer than Misha had thought, but in the end, the sound of happiness was all that mattered, and so the baker was relieved that at the very least, she didn't make a bad product. In fact, Moriko's earnest countenance, with her bright eyes and enthusiastic exclamations was rather refreshing, even though Misha felt a tad worried that the girl may be too easy to read for her own good. Still, that expression of happiness and eagerness, that was the kind of joy that Misha believed that the Shirayama Bakery was founded on, so even so far away from Tokyo, the Russian was satisfied that she was doing her duty.

Misha took a few more steps forward, setting down the paper box templates with a chuckle. "<Indeed, these are for the rest of the rolls. I do not expect you to eat them all, nor would recommend it, lest you find yourself with a stomachache afterwards. Best not to tinge your binge with delayed guilt, no? Better to save some to savor later>" There was another of those ojou-sama chuckles as Misha started to fold the boxes into shape. She had deliberately pulled more than enough boxes, even if Moriko ate not one more roll, reasoning that putting away extras was better than repeatedly pulling out more. As she folded, she started to explain more about the day's experiment.

"<Now, if I may be allowed to spoil your entertainment, i must reveal that the one you just ate was an experiemental one. The flagship Shirayama rolls are ones that have a light and buttery taste, but we have had some comments from those who think they can be served better by a more substantial flavor instead through subtely. And that...>" Misha paused and looked up to point at the roll in Moriko's hand "<...is one attempt to make the flavor more substantial. It is highly unlikely that it will replace our flagship, but rather suppliment it. But what say you, Miss Byrne?>"

tag(s): Moriko Byrne ━ words: 000 ━ notes:

by MIZO.❉ of ww

Gaze shifting over to all the rolls sitting out, Moriko does agree that she wouldn't be able to finish off all of them. Despite her large appetite, even she has limits. But also, she's not ever really been one to eat so much that she's too full. After all, if you're too full, it makes you less able to move around and be active. Not to mention, it's just an uncomfortable (and sometimes painful) way to be.

But, at this moment, she's still hungry. Before she can act on it, though, the other girl asks her a question. Blinking at Misha's words, Moriko glances down at the last bit of the roll in her hand. Polishing it off, she smiles at the flavor.

"Well, I really like it! It's got great flavor, without it being overwhelming."

Eyes drifting away from Misha folding the boxes, Moriko finds herself staring at the batch of rolls she hadn't tried. She could easily eat a few more. Reaching forward, she snags two more rolls. As she does so, she says, "<Well, I've never tried your flagship bread. So I don't know how they compare.>"

Without further elaboration, she simply allows her actions to convey her intentions. Taking a large bite out of the flagship roll, she chews it slowly. The buttery flavor of these is much stronger. It's absent the slight peppery kick and the faint aftertaste of mint the other bread has. Swallowing the bite, she takes another. Yep! It's a bit sweeter too!

Finishing off the first roll, Moriko eats the second one with the same care as the first. She's not quite as ravenous as she'd been when she'd first started eating. Swallowing the final bite, she nods to herself. Returning her attention back to Misha, she gives her assessment.

"<They are both very good. The flagship roll would be great as a dessert, or a sweat snack. The other one would go better with a meal. Though it could still be eaten by itself, I think I'd prefer it with some cheese or maybe some smoked meat?>" A thought comes to her, and her eyes light up.

"<Or, maybe a good dipping oil! Something with garlic in it, maybe? I'd be perfect for the roll when it's still warm.>"

She peers directly into Misha's eyes at this, her own teals bright with her enthusiasm.

❝

For the final few boxes, Misha kept her eyes on them as they were folded into existence, watching Moriko through her peripheral vision and taking mental notes as the other girl mused audiably. Indeed, the girl had an impressive appetite, but it was backed up by some good culinary knowledge. What did Mashiro say this girl's major was? Sculpture? She could easily pass for a culinary arts student, if not beat out a few of Misha's classmates. With the last box folded, Misha looked up in time to see Moriko looked right at her. That enthusiasm was becoming more nostalgic, especially with the talk of her family and Tokyo.

"<Well, cheese and oils are currently out of our jurisdiction, but...Miss Byrne has quite the intuition," Misha said, taking a box and walking over to another portion of the counter. Delicately, she pulled apart some of the rolls and placed it into the box; those would be for the Kitamura family.

"<Now, a little background,>" Misha started, continuing to pack the rolls as she explained. "<I am not sure to what extent Mashiro-chan has told you about my family's store or her own, so I will start from the top. The Shirayama Bakery is part of the Shin-Hachiouji Station. Our customers tend to be those who are in transit, followed by the various workers who need a bit of a snack. And so the flagship roll fit that purpose well. Now, for the evening rush, we do have customers who do buy our flagship rolls by the bag and take home...along side our more dessert-like pastries.">

Misha turned to look at Moriko directly, smiling as if to confirm something before swiftly walking back to grab another box from the pile.

"<Perhaps from the cold, cynical look of a businessman, it would be a smart idea to push more into the dinner roll market. Indeed, Japan is not exactly one to eat bread as a staple as much as America, but...there is a market that can still be tapped. On the other hand, your positive feedback is undeniably encouraging.>" Misha smiled, gesturing to the boxes so that Moriko could start packing what she wanted.

tag(s): Moriko Byrne ━ words: 000 ━ notes:

by MIZO.❉ of ww

Heat rising to her cheeks at Misha's words, Moriko looks down at her buttery hands, a bit embarrassed. Glancing back up, she peers through her bangs and gives a shy smile.

"<I wouldn't say that I know a whole lot about the making part of food. I just like to eat, really. I've often been told that I've got a good nose and sense of taste, though.>"

Her smile turns a bit sad at that statement, but she doesn't let the emotion take over the joy that eating the bread has brought her. Gaze drifting down to Misha's hands, Moriko quietly watches and listens as the other girl goes about packing up the extra rolls. She finds the story about Misha's family and shop quite interesting. She tries to imagine what it'd be like to always be commuting home. Probably by bus or train. Jam packed with all those people...

Shifting uncomfortably in place, she forces her mind away from those thoughts. No reason for her to raise her anxiety through imaginary scenes. Giving herself a mental shake, she returns her focus to the food aspect of Misha's explanation. She keeps her eyes on Misha's hands as she packs up, so she misses the look the other girl directs her way.

At Misha's words about being encouraged, though, Moriko raises her eyes. Watching the other girl's face, she can't tell if what she's saying is what she really, truly means. But, it does feel good to be appreciated, so Moriko decides to believe it is. Smiling, she finds her attention directed towards a few untouched boxes at Misha's gesture.

Realizing what Misha is wanting her to do, Moriko snags a box and begins to fill it. She makes sure to take rolls from both of the trays. She really enjoys both the savory and the sweet, so she wants both types. Filling up the box with as much as it'll hold, and still close, she throws Misha a questioning look.

"Is it all right if I take this much?" she asks apprehensively. She did show up and basically ate for free, after all. And she doesn't really feel like the little bit of feedback she gave is enough to be given extras over.

❝

One does not need to know how food is made to enjoy it. And in some cases, sausages being the obvious example, people were better off ignorant, and Misha chuckled to herself at that notion. That shy smile and shifting around did not go unnoticed, and even as Misha tried her best to put on that charismatic shop facade, it was becoming increasingly difficult to tell where the line between Moriko's shyness and Misha's overwhelming prescence was drawn.

"<Of course, Miss Byrne. It would be a shame otherwise. If nothing else, consider it a way of saying thank you for keeping me company here.>" Misha said, closing up the second box and setting it aside. With a few swift steps, the baker picked up the rest of the boxes and started to divide them into two piles, one pile much obviously closer to Moriko. While Misha was more than capable of taking home all the boxes, she felt it would be cruel to have such a display yet not let someone eat.

As Misha started to pick from the third and fourth trays, she decided that perhaps a change in subject would be help with the tension. They shared no classes and any other school-related question would start straying into student council territory, something Misha had no appetite for at the moment. The Russian knew very little about the carver as a person, yet a nagging feeling warned her to tread lightly when talking about personal things. Now that she thought of it, she was asking questions the entire time.

"<So, does Miss Byrne have a favorite food?>" Misha asked. Back to food it was, even though it felt like such a weak question. However, she could not stomach the awkward silence of bread boxing much longer.

tag(s): Moriko Byrne ━ words: 000 ━ notes:

by MIZO.❉ of ww

Silence is nothing new to Moriko. In fact, she's so used to silence, that the one that stretches between her and Misha doesn't bother her at all. She's unaware that in a situation like this, conversation usually flows naturally. So, when Misha says that the amount that she'd placed in her take away box is fine, she'd shot a grateful smile the other girl's way and not said anything else.

She'd felt odd watching Misha continue to fill the other boxes, and her not doing anything. Then Misha starts separating the rolls into piles, on of them very obviously close to her. Snagging another box, Moriko starts placing the rolls into it. Without asking, or having to be asked. She's not fond of her hands being idle. Idle hands often lend themselves to a wandering mind, after all. And that's not always a nice experience for her. Her mind tends to wander down paths she desperately tries to avoid.

Just thinking about it turns her thoughts to what she doesn't want to think about. Her quiet smile, brought about by pleasant company and good food, slips into a slight frown. She quietly watches her hands as they reach out and grab some rolls, and then places them neatly into a box. Of course, repetitive tasks that don't require a lot of concentration don't really help with distracting her mind.

Moriko doesn't sense that the silence has stretched too long, or that tension has built up between her and Misha.

Luckily, her thoughts are broken into when Misha asks her a question. Blinking in surprise, she looks up, pausing her boxing. "<My favorite food?>" she repeats the question, her expression turning thoughtful. She's had a lot of food in her life, not all of it delicious. But enough of it has been, that it's difficult to decide. But then, one dish pops into her mind. One that she'd eaten on many a cold winter day. It had filled her with warmth, both in her body and her mind. Looking up from her thoughts, she directs her gaze towards Misha. A small smile tilts her lips up, her bright teals soft in the memory.

"<My Da makes an amazing Irish chili. It's the perfect meal for a cold winter day. Warms the belly and the soul.>"

Granted, it's been a good while since she's had it. But it still brings feelings of contentment and happiness to her.

❝

Irish Chili.

Misha was familiar enough with chili, but had little idea what would make Irish Chili...'Irish'. Still, it was a point that Misha could ponder on as she boxed the last few rolls. Was Irish Chili spicy? That would put in line with her cousins Yuki and Cyrus, whose preferences for absurd levels of spiciness were infamous. Or did it incorporate beer or spirits? Now that Misha thought more on it, she was woefully ignorant of Irish cuisine in general. The baker knew well that the Shirayama Bakery pulled mostly from French and German styles, but perhaps looking into Irish and British styles may be something worthwhile.

"<Irish Chili,>" Misha echoed as she sealed up her final box, tapping the top of it proudly. "Perchance, would Miss Byrne know how to make this chili? I think perhaps some of this bread would go quite well with i- Ah?"

A series of soft beeps erupted from the pocket of Misha's long dress skirt, interrupting Misha's words, not that there was much left to say. Raising one hand to silently ask Moriko to pause, Misha reached into her pocket to pull out her phone, it's pearl white metallic case with the silver-embossed clouds and moon above the thin letting of "обязывает" shimmering under the kitchen's fluorescent lighting as the baker confirmed the reason for the racket. "Ah, as expected." Misha said, switching to Japanese as she silenced her phone before pocketing it and looking to Moriko.

"<Sadly, my reservation of this kitchen is coming to a close, and I think it is getting quite late for the both of us.>" Misha explained. She started to stack up her boxes into a giant pile before picking them up with a single heave, a testament to the strength hidden in her lithe frame. "<Well, as much as I hate abrupt departures, I fear that we must part ways. But...you do know how to contact me, if not my cousin, yes? I really do wish to hear your feedback on these rolls.>"

With a small smile, Misha bowed slightly, smartly balancing the load in her arms.

"<Then until we meet again, Miss Byrne, please, do take care.>"

Pivoting on her heels, Misha made her way through the door, where the setting sun had turned the hallway a dark orange. As she headed to the dorms, Misha's mind was not on bread; even if her experiments today weren't successful, Misha was content to know that Mashiro was finding good friends.

tag(s): Moriko Byrne ━ words: 000 ━ notes:

by MIZO.❉ of ww

Placing the last of the rolls in the box, Moriko closes the lid and slides it to where the other boxes are as Misha ponders her choice in favorite foods. She's about to answer the question directed her way, when suddenly a few beeps interrupts her. At the other girl's raised hand, Moriko keeps quiet. Misha takes out a phone, much fancier than her own, and looks at it for a short time. Then she silences it and places it back into the pocket that she took it out of.

When Misha begins to stack up all the boxes, Moriko rushes to help out. All in a single, neat pile, the other girl suddenly picks it all up in one go. She's stronger than she looks! Moriko marvels silently to herself. She opens her mouth to ask if the other girl would like her to help out, but Misha's already talking again. Swallowing a sigh at her inability to hold a proper conversation, Moriko closes her mouth and lets the other girl speak. She's never been very good at reading when it's her turn to talk.

She nods her head when Misha asks if she knows how to contact her. She may not know the other girl's number, but she does have Mashiro's number. And vice versa. Also, they go to the same school. She's sure she'd be able to find Misha again, if she really needs to. But, if either Mashiro or Misha want to get a hold her, they could just do it through the phones.

Moriko pauses briefly to marvel at how convenient pocket phones are, but her thoughts are broken into when Misha turns to her, smiles politely, and bids her farewell. Bowing back to Misha, Moriko watches as the other girl spins smartly about and head out the door. The last thing that she sees is the back of the other girl as she carefully balances the stack of boxes.

Hand raised in an unconscious wave of farewell, Moriko stares for a few moments at the doorway of the classroom. She hadn't managed to get a word in edgewise in those last few exchanges. But that's all right. As long as Misha doesn't mind the fact that she doesn't talk all that much, Moriko doesn't mind that the other girl does. Dropping her hand down, she goes over and picks up the single box that was left behind.

Her box.

Breaking out into a cheerful grin, she slips into the hushed hallways. With so few other people around, she'll have no trouble getting back to her dorm. And there, she'll be able to enjoy even more delicious rolls, while working a design for her next carving project.

This has been a good evening, a good evening indeed!