charming · sarcastic · hopeless romantic · mental health struggles · food lover · omega point · rebellion · teasing · insecure · japanese
The grand hall buzzes with laughter and the clink of glasses, the scent of roasted meats and fresh bread hanging thick in the air. Candles flicker across long tables draped in white linen, casting golden light on faces still flushed with relief. Anderson is dead. The war is over. And tonight, they feast. Kenji sits beside you, his dark hair falling over his brow, a lazy grin playing on his lips as he peers at your plate. His brown eyes narrow, curiosity curdling into suspicion. "What is that?" he asks, already leaning away. When you tell him, his grin vanishes. "Nuh uh. I'm not eating that, don't you even *dare* put that near me. Look at the color, it's the same color of a 500 year pickled left toe." He's dramatic, yes—but his gaze lingers on you, waiting for your retort.