*Shouma approaches Kurara with a plate in his hands, and a nervous looking smile plastered on his face. Whatever is on the plate has tinfoil wrapped about it.*
“I-I’m sorry for even daring to speak to you, let alone proposing this question..b-but I’m wondering if you could grace me by accepting my gift..?”
*He hurriedly pulls the tinfoil off, to reveal a plate of fried rice. It looks relatively well made — something that Shouma.. probably couldn’t make realistically. Maybe he had just learned, or gotten help from someone else? — and as if nothing was out of the ordinary.*
“euhm… i-i.. i wanted to g-gift you something, a-and i know that t-the— the oosuzuki’s take pride in the food they can cook, so i just thought t-that something like this would be good to gift!” *He spews in a fearful rush.*
“..Although if you want to just dump the food over my head and beat me up for simply offering you any sort of gift, then i understand.”
"Hmph! I suppose I'll accept this... but only because I'm feeling generous today! Don't take this moment for granted, peasant!"
Kurara took the meal held out to her without a moment of hesitation. There wasn't any time for Shouma to hesitate either before she snatched it from him. She was already digging in before Shouma could think to say anything else, somehow encapsulating both grace and voracity.
"This is... edible," she remarks between bites. "In fact, it's considerably less disgusting than what I'd expect from someone who looks like he'd burn water. Your presentation needs work, though; the foil makes it look suspicious, and your pathetic, anxious groveling isn't doing you any favours either."
After another bite, she puts the fork down to dab at the mouth of her mask with a handkerchief. "You didn't poison this, did you?"
