The second Hamuko mentioned the sushi—his eyes subtly drifted.
God, there was a good spread out tonight, wasn’t there?
Tuna, salmon, sea bream, unagi, tamago, even the fancy pressed stuff with pickled mackerel—someone really went all out on this spread. He caught sight of the gleam off a lacquered serving tray and swore he could hear angels. Not real angels—probably cognitive ones—but still.
He cleared his throat, very pointedly not reacting.
"...Sushi's fine, I guess," he muttered, already halfway turned in that direction. “Not like I was thinking about it or anything.”
By the time she said "go nuts," he was already shifting his weight forward, that twitch in his lip returning like a traitor.
But then Hamuko said something about a party organizer tax—about leftovers—and Zenkichi glanced back at her, mock-serious, eyes gleaming behind the visor.
"Tax, huh? Well, you better file your claim now, ‘cause I’m about to audit this entire platter straight into the void.”
He paused. Smirked.
“Y’know. Before the sushi vanishes due to... mysterious write-offs.” He made little air quotes, then nudged his thumb toward the trays. “Can’t risk you charging me with tax evasion later, after I demolish every last one of those yellowtail rolls.”
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God, there was a good spread out tonight, wasn’t there?
Tuna, salmon, sea bream, unagi, tamago, even the fancy pressed stuff with pickled mackerel—someone really went all out on this spread. He caught sight of the gleam off a lacquered serving tray and swore he could hear angels. Not real angels—probably cognitive ones—but still.
He cleared his throat, very pointedly not reacting.
"...Sushi's fine, I guess," he muttered, already halfway turned in that direction. “Not like I was thinking about it or anything.”
By the time she said "go nuts," he was already shifting his weight forward, that twitch in his lip returning like a traitor.
But then Hamuko said something about a party organizer tax—about leftovers—and Zenkichi glanced back at her, mock-serious, eyes gleaming behind the visor.
"Tax, huh? Well, you better file your claim now, ‘cause I’m about to audit this entire platter straight into the void.”
He paused. Smirked.
“Y’know. Before the sushi vanishes due to... mysterious write-offs.” He made little air quotes, then nudged his thumb toward the trays. “Can’t risk you charging me with tax evasion later, after I demolish every last one of those yellowtail rolls.”