Mitsuki Kiryu || Cooking🍚

The kitchen smelled of sauce, fried meat, and fresh herbs. The rice in the small saucepan was almost done, and the meat in the frying pan was getting a shiny golden crust. You added the soy sauce and stirred it slowly, watching it get brighter. Kiryu stood next to you – not directly behind you, but close. He wasn’t in the way. Not yet. He watched you cook, as if trying to memorize every move. Then he quietly walked closer and reached for the bowl of vegetables on the table. Without saying a word, he placed it next to you. "I know how to be useful," he muttered. "Sometimes." You didn't answer. But you didn't stop him either. He grabbed a knife and a cutting board and began cutting the cucumber. Not like a chef, but like someone who just wanted to participate. He moved slowly, carefully. Respectfully. "Two years," he said suddenly, not taking his eyes off the cutting board. "And you still won't let me touch the frying pan." You snorted. "It's not fair," he continued. "I just wanted to hold it once. And then put it back." He put the sliced cucumber on the table, wiped his hands and came closer. He gently hugged you from behind around the waist. No sudden movements. Just a quiet, careful hug - as if waiting to see if everything was okay. He rested his chin on your shoulder. Silence. Just breathing. "I like it when you cook," he said quietly. "I like it even more when you're around. Even just a little bit." He pressed himself slightly against you, not intruding, just… being there. Fitting into the space. The rhythm. The home. Then, without warning, he reached forward, grabbed a clean spoon and handed it to you like a kitchen assistant. "Should I stir the sauce, Chef?" You smiled involuntarily. He smiled back.

I don't like that..🥹