[ And so they eat ....... in silence. Not a single word being said.
Megumi is the type to take small, quiet bites. He would normally be annoyed by the sounds of someone eating loudly, but he doesn't mind it too much, because it means that his father enjoys his food. Or maybe he's just starving?
Eventually, he does break the silence with a question. ] What do you think about the food?
[ He doesn't look up from the dish and he sounds a little ornery with his honest confession, but the lingering bite in his mouth he seems to savor, really thinking hard about all of the tastes within it. Something about it.. seems so familiar; he can't place a finger on where he's had this extra gingery flavor before.
[ It's good? Those two words alone do something interesting to him. He feels settled, a sense of delight and warmth bubbling from within. Maybe he's happy. Megumi isn't the best at cooking, but he likes doing it, and having someone else enjoy his food gives him a sense of fulfilment. It's doubly so when he's getting praise from this person in particular.
The revelation about his mother doesn't come expected at all. ] Oh.
[ He doesn't know her. What she looks like, what she acts like, whether or not she loved him. ] Have I ever tried her food? [ Did they ever eat together, as a family, just like this? ]
[ As he sits there and some of those memories start to surface, Toji can feel is jaw growing tense. He hated reflecting on the past, even the memories that were good because it inevitably ended up bad. She was the only part of his life that made him happy and now that she's gone, he tried to forget everything that involved her. It was easier to just think about the Zenin clan and how life is just simply cruel.
Cruel from the beginning. Cruel halfway through. Toji figures whatever his end will be.. it will probably be cruel too. ]
I can't remember.
[ "Sorry," is what he should say next after that, but he lacks the social grace for that. ]
[ Megumi doesn't need to have it spelled out to him to read what the older man is feeling. He's always been good at reading people. It comes with being a listener, and naturally skeptical of what others tell him. There's some hurt there. It isn't hard to imagine why. She isn't around anymore. There wasn't a single picture of her in that shoddy apartment he grew up in. He thinks he remembers Tsumiki saying she passed away. Probably something she's heard from her own mother, but Megumi isn't sure.
What an empty family they have. It's so strange to think about how, if circumstances had been different, it could have been a normal one.
He's held resentment toward this man for years. Yet, right now, he feels empathetic. Like he's sorry that happened, and papa is hurting. ]
[ Does he miss her? That's such a stupid question for Megumi to ask in Toji's eyes, but Megumi doesn't know much about her. For all he knows, she could have been a horrible person.. but that was the opposite. Quite so. Toji's voice raises just slightly when he speaks again. He's always got a calm demeanor (besides when he's fighting) but something about talking about her is making his skin prickle. ]
That's enough, Megumi.
[ He gives no indication what it was to make him so ornery about this subject. He could talk about her illness and how she passed, maybe even reflect on the good memories but.. he's tried to forget it all and pretend he's been nothing but miserable his whole life; not any kind of area of happiness that could have been taken from him.
[ It felt like, for a second, they were connecting about something. That Megumi could put aside his difficult feelings about his father for just a second, and have dinner as a family. The reason he's here, the reason he decided to reach out to the older man, is because he's learned about the truth of why Gojo had took him in in the first place. He was wrong about being abandoned, about being angry that his father stopped coming home. It doesn't erase the fact that Toji was never there when he was still alive, or the fact that he tried to sell him away, but it did mean that he was never abandoned.
He was wanting to give things a chance, but unsurprisingly they are one step forward and two steps back. What was starting to feel like a calm space he could ease up in was now tense, and even if he made this food earnestly, it's hard to enjoy it in this strained atmosphere.
There's a momentary surprise, a flicker of some fear. Even if he was close to being killed by this man once before, he doesn't think he's ever seen him truly angry. It's just a bit scary. ]
... Okay. [ So he withdraws back into himself, the look on his face falling back into a listless, stoic expression, and numbs any curiousity or desire for a connection he might have been feeling just seconds before.
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no subject
Megumi is the type to take small, quiet bites. He would normally be annoyed by the sounds of someone eating loudly, but he doesn't mind it too much, because it means that his father enjoys his food. Or maybe he's just starving?
Eventually, he does break the silence with a question. ] What do you think about the food?
1/2
[ He doesn't look up from the dish and he sounds a little ornery with his honest confession, but the lingering bite in his mouth he seems to savor, really thinking hard about all of the tastes within it. Something about it.. seems so familiar; he can't place a finger on where he's had this extra gingery flavor before.
Why is it so hard to remember? ]
2/2
Your mother liked to make it with extra ginger.
[ And that's why he had forgotten the taste. ]
no subject
The revelation about his mother doesn't come expected at all. ] Oh.
[ He doesn't know her. What she looks like, what she acts like, whether or not she loved him. ] Have I ever tried her food? [ Did they ever eat together, as a family, just like this? ]
no subject
Cruel from the beginning. Cruel halfway through. Toji figures whatever his end will be.. it will probably be cruel too. ]
I can't remember.
[ "Sorry," is what he should say next after that, but he lacks the social grace for that. ]
no subject
What an empty family they have. It's so strange to think about how, if circumstances had been different, it could have been a normal one.
He's held resentment toward this man for years. Yet, right now, he feels empathetic. Like he's sorry that happened, and papa is hurting. ]
Do you miss her?
no subject
Toji's voice raises just slightly when he speaks again. He's always got a calm demeanor (besides when he's fighting) but something about talking about her is making his skin prickle. ]
That's enough, Megumi.
[ He gives no indication what it was to make him so ornery about this subject. He could talk about her illness and how she passed, maybe even reflect on the good memories but.. he's tried to forget it all and pretend he's been nothing but miserable his whole life; not any kind of area of happiness that could have been taken from him.
Toji falls silent, then resumes eating. ]
no subject
He was wanting to give things a chance, but unsurprisingly they are one step forward and two steps back. What was starting to feel like a calm space he could ease up in was now tense, and even if he made this food earnestly, it's hard to enjoy it in this strained atmosphere.
There's a momentary surprise, a flicker of some fear. Even if he was close to being killed by this man once before, he doesn't think he's ever seen him truly angry. It's just a bit scary. ]
... Okay. [ So he withdraws back into himself, the look on his face falling back into a listless, stoic expression, and numbs any curiousity or desire for a connection he might have been feeling just seconds before.
He won't ask again. ]