damned_institute | Day 42, Noon: The Twin Pine Restaurant

Yuffie took the long way around, practically making it a tour of the entire town. She collared--not literally, since the nurses would've thrown fits--a few random citizens along the way, asked as many inconspicuous sounding questions as possible, and then moved on. Wash, rinse, repeat. Sneaking a few covert glimpses into stores and windows confirmed what she'd been talking about with Sam earlier; no dates, no explicitly mentioned locations outside of the town itself… how weird was that? Even the most insular of towns back on Gaia would've coughed up some kind of connection with the outside world.

It was almost like a living ghost town.

Well, maybe she was just thinking too hard. Maybe she was throwing shuriken too hard at the wrong target. Back home, she had a concrete frame of reference. Here, she couldn't take anything for granted; she had no local or international knowledge whatsoever. All she could try to do was get a profile of the immediate area and build it up and out from there. Theories were already budding, popping up like weeds hit by Quadra-Haste, but without facts to back them up, theories were like sand in a desert.

Not that she didn't want to share those theories, sand or not. She did. A lot.

Once she'd developed a viable mental map of the place (as viable as she was gonna get given the time constraints), Yuffie swung back around and jogged back to North Street. From there, she took the alley; a quick right turn; slow to a trot, and there. Her cheeks were tinged pink from the cold winter air, and they stung as she poked her head in through the door.

Okay, so maybe she was a little early after all. That was cool. Very cool. She had some time to set things up, to pretend that she wasn't hideously under prepared for this lunch date. Stepping into the warmth, Yuffie surreptitiously cased the place out as she headed to a table. Homey, in a way that almost reminded her of some of the up-and-coming rural towns. Automatically seeking out one of the more strategic seats--one with a good view of the rest of the restaurant, and one that didn't leave her totally vulnerable to mutant chairs or murderous sandwiches--she made herself comfortable, whipped out a few crumpled pieces of paper and a pen, and began to jot down her findings.

[Closed to Edgeworth.]

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Kenren waved over at Nataku when the other god arrived, beckoning him over to the table. "Hey. Sorry we came inside but it's kind of cold out there and apparently the nurses don't think I'm cute enough to pull off a sweater like that," he added with a rakish grin as he looked over Nataku's jumper. They were like twins.

"So, do you two have any idea of what you want to eat?" he asked, glancing between them.

"I guess." Nataku replied, sounding resigned to his fate. He didn't really mind the teasing. It just took some getting used to, and some small part of him couldn't help but feel embarrassed at being called cute.

"If you like it that much I could talk to them for you, Kenren. You and Homura can have a pair of matching ones next trip. What animal do you like? Bunny rabbits maybe?" He grinned. "You can get a tail too."

He sat in one of the chairs and rested his hands in his lap, glancing at Hanatarou, then back at Kenren with a shrug. "I don't know. Food." He wasn't trying to be clever, he just didn't really have an opinion on what he ate.

What he wanted to eat? Hanatarou blinked and shook his head a little at Nataku - he had no idea, either. Most of the food at the Institute was strange to him, and he didn't expect what they could get here in town to be any different.

"Er. Whatever they have...?" he replied, with a shrug that matched Nataku's. He hadn't really expected to have much of a choice. "I'm, um, not very picky..."

"I think I'll pass," Kenren replied dryly, although he would take it in good humour if it ever came to that. And then possibly sneakily kill whichever nurse was dumb enough to try to get him into it. "Besides, women look much better in bunny outfits," he said with a lascivious wink at the pair.

And neither of them had an opinion? He grabbed a couple of menus and pushed them across to Nataku and Hanatarou. "I am intended to go against ever edict of heaven and have steak."

That was just like Kenren. Nataku rarely cared to listen to gossip, but it sounded like his friend's reputation in the heavens wasn't entirely undeserved. That gave him an idea for later though. His grin wasn't entirely innocent.

With another shrug at Hanatarou he picked up one of the menus and tried to find this steak Kenren was willing to defy heaven for. There were a bunch of ways to have it cooked. Nataku made a face at the last one.

"'Blue steak'? People eat things like that? Why don't they just bite into a cow?" It turned out he was pickier about food than he thought. It didn't really have much to do with heaven; he just didn't like the way meat smelled, cooked or otherwise. He'd always unconsciously avoided it at the institute. "I think I want salad."

...bunny outfits? Hanatarou gave Kenren a somewhat uncertain look in return, wondering if that was supposed to be a joke (Nataku's smile seemed to indicate he found it amusing), then quickly buried his attention in studying the menu he'd been given.

The steak didn't really interest him that much, and neither did the "chicken-fried steak," which only sounded confusing and strange. He'd halfway hoped to be able to find some familiar food here, but it seemed it wasn't to be. "Um. I guess I'll have salad, too," he replied, deciding it was probably easiest just to agree with Nataku on this.

After a second's hesitation he glanced over at Kenren and ventured, "You're...not supposed to eat steak?"

Hmmm, he obviously needed to keep an eye on Nataku if that was the kind of look he was getting. That grin was just a little bit unsettling. He knew enough about Nataku's pranks to be wary.

Kenren shrugged in response. "I don't know. I'm not exactly familiar with human cuisine myself," he said with a laugh. "I like meat cooked, at least, that's how I've had it since coming here." He glanced over at Hanatarou and nodded. "Gods aren't supposed to kill. They aren't supposed to touch anything which has been killed. That includes food. It's pretty crappy. I had to sneak off to the lower world just to go fishing so I intend to enjoy myself here while I have the chance."

"Some humans have weird taste." Well, at least Kenren wasn't going to attempt the raw meat. As long as he didn't have to eat it he didn't really care what the other god put on his plate. He was the last person to enforce a rule like that.

Gods aren't supposed to kill. They aren't supposed to touch anything which has been killed. Nataku sat very still, looking at his menu. The waitress came by just then to take their orders. Once she was gone again, he turned to Hanatarou.

"Where are you from, anyway?" He was curious. He didn't really know much about Hantarou, come to think of it.

Edited 2009-07-08 01:13 (UTC)

Hanatarou didn't know that much about his two companions, either, and from what he was hearing they were likely from one of the other worlds he'd heard about. At least, he didn't know anything about gods who couldn't kill. (If that was true of the shinigami, a lot of them would've been quite disappointed, in fact.)

"Um. I'm from Soul Society?" It was hard to know who here had heard of it and who hadn't, given the different reactions Hanatarou tended to get from different people, so he glanced uncertainly between the two and continued, "I'm, er, a shinigami. If you've heard of them?"

Kenren sighed softly, noticing Nataku's sudden stillness. "It's a foolish idea," he said seriously, glancing at Hanatarou. "But no-one ever accused most gods of being able to see anything beyond the edges of their estates." They were hypocritical bastards most of them, who'd think nothing of sending a child off to do their dirty work while condemning him in the same breath.

"I've heard of shinigami," Kenren said with a nod. "Only from here though. Never heard of Soul Society though." Most of the shinigami here seemed too close to gods for his liking.

Nataku made a quiet sound of agreement. It was a foolish idea. The gods wouldn't have to dirty themselves, but it was little more than blaming the sword instead of the hand that wielded it. Not to say that the sword didn't have its own share of the blame.

Hanatarou's words brought him around, but they meant even less to Nataku. He blinked owlishly at the other boy.

"Shinigami? What's that?" It went without saying that he'd never heard of the Soul Society either.

Day 42, Noon: The Twin Pine Restaurant

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