House or Home?

On the road to friendship, there are certain things you do at certain stages. When you first meet, you exchange names and interests. Further down the road, you learn how to interpret each others moods and quirks. Slightly further, beyond that, lay a true sign of friendship, where two people would take time out of their day to spend time together. Not at a location they already regularly meet, such as work, sport practice. Somewhere that two people could just let off a little steam and have fun. However, at the same time, something like this still gave the two parties some distance. One of the signs of true trust, would always be inviting someone over to their house for the first time.

Or rather, in Daitan's head, that's how she thought normal people's friendship worked. In her case, she seemed to have bypassed almost all those other things in favor of skipping ahead to the final step. Standing on the sidewalk outside of the house of her tutor, whom she still was unsure of how she felt about, she was starting to have third thoughts. Truthfully, she was fine with leaving the Scarecrow's home life in ambiguity. After all, what did she care, they didn't have that kind of... relationship. And why did she have so much trouble when it came to that word.

Things most likely wouldn't have been so complicated if that stupid Chihuahua had done the smart thing for once and shut up.

...

"You do what I told you", Daitan asked.

Benjiro nodded his head. Holding up the baggy, "Good, I've got something for the both of us right here."

"Just what are you trying to prove", Akiko protested.

Daitan quickly shot her a glare that promised suffering if she continued. Inwardly, she was just begging to any god that would listen that her food didn't suck.

'Here goes nothing.'

The tomboy took her hand out from behind her back, procured the baggy, and brought out a little lunch box. Benjiro rose an eyebrow, as he had been expecting a few things, but clearly this wasn't one of them. He raised both of them when he noticed something even less expected. For some reason, his pupil couldn't look him in the eye. Her face continued to rest in its usual stoic and seemingly uncaring phase, but for once, she wasn't holding contact. Her sharp eyes would look at him before rapidly glancing away at the floor, the window or maybe the piano.

Taking the lunch and opening it, Benjiro saw what could be considered food. There was a serious mishmash of different vegetables, and in the middle, a messy omelet rice.

"Um, th-thank you", he muttered before taking and trying a piece of egg. The egg was dry to the point that it crunched, which didn't distract from the fact that it didn't even have any salt or pepper. The rice was in a similar boat, suffering from being burnt and tasteless.

To his credit, Benjiro's own father hadn't been the best cook at first, so he had built up an excellent poker face. Unfortunately, it had been some time since his Dad had produced anything that tasted quite as bad as this. His eyes watered as he slowly choked down his mouthful of egg. It took a moment of pounding his chest and a sip of milk to make sure that his airways were clear.

When he looked up again, once again he found himself at a loss for words at seeing Haruoka, of all things, pouting. It was completely alien to him. This stoic girl, who always looked like she was perpetually sucking on a Warhead, was actually pouting. Even more unusual, was that it looked kind of cute on her.

'Now where did that thought come from', Inei chimed.

'I don't know. I'm just as confused as you. She's actually capable of making a facial expression that doesn't look homicidal. And it looks oddly adorable.'

The invisible Manson lookalike glanced between his counterpart and the girl, 'I can't say this is normal, but yeah, it does kind of suit her.'

"Hey", Akiko sniped while snapping her fingers, "Enough daydreaming, Nojiri."

Shaking his head, "S-Sorry about th-that."

"It's terrible isn't it", Daitan moaned.

Great, just another thing that Benjiro was unprepared to handle.

"N-No, it's not bad. Look", he popped another piece of egg and failed to successfully mask his taste buds' revulsion. Daitan reached over and snagged the lunch away.

"Just forget it."

Akiko just had to add her own two cents, "Well, what did you expect. You've probably never done any actual cooking aside from stuff in a microwave."

The tomboy snapped her head around, but for once, she didn't have her usual snappiness, "What do you expect? I pretty much live on my own but I'm never even home to try stuff like this out."

Benjiro could sense conflict and before he could actually think about it, he blurted out, "Would y-you like it if y-you got taught s-some stuff?"

Akiko was looking at him in a mixture of disbelief and hurt while Daitan appeared surprised and unsure of herself.

"N-Nothing complex, j-just some easy things."

That little outburst of his leading them to Daitan presently standing on the sidewalk. Biting her own tongue, she walked up and rang the doorbell. A moment later, she was greeted to the sight of a man even taller than her tutor giving her a scrutinizing gaze.

"You a friend of Ben's", he abruptly asked making Daitan freeze like a deer in headlights.

Behind the man, a familiar mop of hair could be seen, "Ah, H-Haruoka, good t-timing. Come on in", he waved her inside.

"Oh, so this is the student you told me about", the man said in a lighter tone, "Huh, I was expecting a monster and instead all I see is someone out of your league."

Both the teenagers blushed at that statement while Benjiro halfheartedly admonished his dad's loose tongue.

Daitan was no stranger to sketchy establishments. She'd been to any number of abandoned warehouses, bars, alleyways, junkyards, but something about the Scarecrow's house didn't settle right with her. Unlike her small apartment, this house had most of the marking of a home, but simultaneously, it had none of the welcoming hallmarks of one. Everything was so still, and despite its hosts' voice, it felt as if the walls were swallowing every sound.

"OK, so what sounds good to you", Benjiro's voice made her jump. Through his laughing, "Even when I'm not trying, it still just never gets old."

Shaking her head, "Pull something like that again and I'll rip your face off."

"Noted. N-Now what sounds g-good?"

Anger at being surprised was quickly replaced by uncertainty of being thrust into an unfamiliar task. Cooking was one of those things that housewives did, certainly not the leader of a gang. Which further begged the question, why was she in this situation at all? Failing to receive an answer, "How ab-bout something easy like m-miso soup. I have en-nough kelp and bonito f-flakes for it. Dad can handle the s-sashimi and r-rice. "

Daitan simply nodded and watched as the wiry boy produced stock, vegetables and a few other cooking items. Once again, she pondered at how she found herself under the guidance of the unusual boy before her. Unlike before, she could see that cooking was not his strong suit. Frequently his father, who was wearing his Christmas gift, had to point out that he needed to wash the kelp a little better or let the stock steep for a moment longer. Daitan had to suppress a laugh or two at seeing how flustered Benjiro was getting. Mostly, she just stood by, acting as a gofer and taking notes.

An hour later, Benjiro's father clapped his hands together, "Alright, you two. Dinner should be about finished now, so grab some plates and bowls and let's begin."

While the trio was eating, Daitan noticed that her secret crush didn't seem to talk much. It was mostly her and the father carrying things while Benjiro sometimes chimed in to correct details of an embarrassing story. Overall, the atmosphere was still, but there was something else that she wasn't sure about. There was just a certain air of comfort and familiarity to the father and son.

Unsure of why, it felt as though a hole inside the tomboy's heart, one that she had either ignored or made light of, was making itself known. She continued to exchange altered stories about her escapades, but couldn't find it in herself to put more than the necessary energy into it.

After dinner was over, Fumihiro gathered up the dishes and went to the sink, "If you feel like sticking around, we could probably make some instant pudding."

"Ooh, yeah", Benjiro readily agreed.

Daitan set down her chopsticks and hastily made up an excuse to go home. Benjiro was unsure of what he was supposed to do before his Dad made up his mind for him, "Ben, go after her and make sure she gets to wherever she needs to go in one piece."

"She can take care of herself, Dad", he replied, "That girl is scarier than some of your old army buddies."

Fumihiro poked his head through the archway, "I'll take your word for it, now get moving."

With an exasperated sigh, Benjiro threw on his shoes and ran to catch up to Daitan, "Come on, the f-food couldn't h-have been that b-bad."

"It's not the food that's the problem", she said while increasing her stride.

Quickening his own, "I'm n-not usually o-one to pry but wh-what's the matter."

Daitan halted and snapped her head around, her eyes hurt, "Nothing's the matter. Don't you understand that?"

Benjiro backed away, but held his ground, "Look, I don't know your issue, but taking things out on me like you usually do isn't helping anyone here."

The tomboy's expression hardened as she shot her hands forward to bring Benhiro eye to eye with the herself, "If I tell you that I'm fine, then I'm fine. You leave it at that, you don't ask questions and you don't pretend to care."

Unlike so many times before when this action would've prompted the smaller boy to cower like a child, which he still wanted to do, he refused to break that hypnotic gaze of his. The things his father and brother tried to impart in their own way rang in his head. He swallowed, knowing what he was about to say was a massive risk, but recently, he seemed to be getting into more of those.

"What if I said that I wasn't pretending?"

Benjiro felt his student's grip falter for a split second. She retightened her hands and looked like she was about to go ballistic once more. He closed his eyes to prepare for the onslaught. One second passed. Two. Three, four, five? Opening his eyes again, he took a long look at Daitan. Her face was trying to remain stolid and firm, but little cracks in her façade were showing. After another tense moment passed, Daitan gently released Benjiro from her grip.

"You should go home, Scarecrow", she mumbled, "Your Dad is probably worried about you."

Without further preamble, the tomboy started walking again and didn't look back. Exiting the train at her stop, Daitan couldn't help but think, 'Dad, huh? Those things actually do exist out there somewhere.'