"Do you like vegetables, Akechi-kun? I've been growing some of them on the school rooftop!" ( from haru )
Akechi doesn’t have a particular taste for rich or luxurious foods. He lives alone and has for most of his life. While he very well could’ve used his Father’s money to learn to cook the sort of fabulous dishes he ends up eating with his adult co-workers at the fancy restaurants in town----he has, instead, decided to use his Father’s money to ‘collect talking points’ of all the most new and ‘exciting’ meals around town. (Exciting only to idiots who spend tax dollars stuffing their faces, but still. Just knowing about the different flavor palattes of every meal helps impress them, and so he’s tries everything.)
If he didn’t feel that every experience could become a talking point, and thus something he can use to ease the conversation with the people around him, fitting into his oh-so-charming persona just that little bit easier---he doubts he would eat at all, his scattered, burning, bubbling, brewing cauldron of thoughts and angst meal enough at the best of times.
He remembers his Mother used to like him to eat his vegetables. The way Haru smiles as she asks him, the friendly way in which she tilts her head and her curls bounce. Her hair was curly too---a similar shade of brown.
He laughs, despite himself, a curt little giggle that is not nearly as maniacal as it sounds when he is alone--but still, rather odd, rather high-pitched. He cools his frayed nervous, and tilts his head, his eyes catching hers. “I would love to try some at your earliest convenience, Haru-san. I trust your green thumb to produce only the most delicious of produce.”
