sweetdeath | [09 || it was easier to type when the puppy thing was a metaphor]

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[09 || it was easier to type when the puppy thing was a metaphor]

...this is kind of a fun curse! Except I can't open the door. Or, you know. Work can openers. Let's not talk about what trying to cook would be like --

Uh, sorry, I'm not gonna make it in to work!

Tatsumi, you still human-shaped? I've got a bunch of gourmet leftovers in the freezer, and if you could get some out and reheat it for me you can share 'em for dinner. I forgot to leave a bowl of dog food out last night, see.

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[Tsuzuki sat back, grinning with amusement. The frazzled look on Tatsumi's face made it clear enough that he'd been right. Something was bothering him.]

What're you so nervous about?

[He tensed for a moment, then turned back around under the guise of settling the skillet onto the oven burner.]

Don't be ridiculous - why would I be nervous?

[Tsuzuki considered the rigid, and slightly twitchy, form of his co-worker... and then leaned forward and nudged him in the back of the knee again.]

Ts-Tsuzuki-san....

[This time he only briefly glanced over his shoulder to the source of his troubles before turning back to the task at hand. No, he didn't really want to discuss the nerves, especially in this slightly surreal situation. Especially with Tsuzuki.]

I haven't even gotten the food in the skillet yet...

[Huffing out a breath, Tsuzuki flopped into a sitting position. It was easier to look up that way. He had the feeling he knew at least some of what had the other man so nervous, but prodding him was just going to result in burnt dinner at this point. He couldn't resist just one comment, though.]

You know, Tatsumi, you're really bad at lying.

[Damnit. And he was being persistent - but two could play that game, and Tatsumi really, really didn't want to discuss Watari of all people right now. It was still too awkward. With deft skill did he manage not to look back to Tsuzuki, this time preferring to concentrate on the frozen white and green block of food that now faintly sizzled.]

What are you talking about?

You tell me.

[Tsuzuki set his chin on his paws, still looking up. The smell of food made his nose twitch, but he was determined not to let it distract him.]

There's absolutely nothing going on, Tsuzuki-san....

[Of course, he was speaking lies through his teeth, but the sharp chop of a wooden spoon told a different story as he attempted separating the solid square of food. A bit more forceful than he'd have liked, but...]

Despite what you may think or may have seen.

[This huff of breath was louder, conveying without words just what he thought of Tatsumi's flimsy excuse. He might be a bad employee, but he was pretty good at figuring out what people were feeling.

Especially when, like Tatsumi, they practically wore it as a neon sign around their neck.]

And that's why you're refusing to talk about Watari, right?

[Now he was caught. But, of course, he had options at his disposal - either acknowledge it and tell the entire truth, or lie. The latter seemed the best choice. He still didn't look to Tsuzuki, instead continuing chopping at the smaller brick of frozen food.]

Whatever issues there were have been resolved - that's that.

Right.

[Tsuzuki considered his own options. He could just accept that Tatsumi wasn't going to say anything. Or he could push. Or he could bite the man's ankle.

Being a dog really widened his repertoire.]

[Fine. He'd keep on with the cooking, and Tsuzuki would just wait there. More chopping, more sizzling, more silence - then it came to the moment that he had waited for. The food finally thawed. He had already had two plates out - but was the second one necessary? Shrugging it off, he simply portioned it all out and then had one plate before Tsuzuki and one on the nearby table.]

Here - be careful not to scorch your tongue.

Thanks!

[All conversation after that was cut off by Tsuzuki diving enthusiastically onto the plate of food. It was hot, but not too hot to eat. At least, not if he ate quickly and didn't mind a few moments of scorched tongue before it healed. It had been almost a full day since he'd last eaten. Conversation (and ankle-nipping) could wait.]

[Of course, he had dutifully given Tsuzuki a larger portion, not simply as a courtesy. Keep him occupied, keep him from asking anything more. He could only stare briefly at the black-dog form chomping on that dinner - such tactless eating was even more pronounced - before he returned to his own. Not bad, perhaps a bit overpriced, but what restaurant wasn't, really?

Once more, he looked to Tsuzuki. Why did it matter to him? No, he knew the answer - quickly did he shove that out from his mind.]

[One advantage of eating like a dog; it didn't take Tsuzuki long to make his way through the plate of leftovers. Licking his lips, he glanced up at Tatsumi. The other man's stubbornness was one thing - after a couple of decades, anyone could've figured out that wasn't going to change. Frankly, though, Tsuzuki thought it was past time Tatsumi have a life outside of work. They were friends, weren't they? And the younger man really was going to drive himself into a case of ulcers or possibly a nervous breakdown one of these years.

Besides, maybe it'd make him lighten up about paperwork deadlines and expense accounts.]

Thanks! That was good.

I'm glad you liked it.

[Strangely, his own appetite had decreased, but there was that nagging sensation in the back of his mind. Waste not, want not. It was just a small portion of it, and doggedly he swallowed it down. At the least, it wasn't Tsuzuki's own cooking. There was one advantage to clearing the plates, he noticed as he lifted Tsuzuki's bone-dry plate - it bought more time. He was certain to have more questions his way.]

[Tsuzuki heaved himself back to his feet, trotting after Tatsumi. If questioning wasn't going to make the man start talking, maybe being shadowed would. Now this, he had to admit, would have worked better without the dog curse. He'd just have to figure something out to replace the look of sadness and concern...]

[The domestic act of washing the dishes clean was something that seemed to soothe more than irritate - but then there was that black dog at his side, hovering like he knew would happen. But he could ignore it for a short time, anyway.]

Is there something else you'd like, Tsuzuki-san?

[Tsuzuki licked his lips. A glass of wine, maybe? But not knowing what kind of tolerance an eighty-pound dog had, he probably shouldn't.]

That's fine.

[He sat down again, regarding Tatsumi.]

...so are you going to answer my questions?

What questions?

[Sure, it was mildly childish, but the subject wasn't one that had to be discussed. He had the vague craving for tea, and it provided a good cover to shuffle about more in the kitchen.]

[Tsuzuki eyed the other man.]

What has you so tense, what's wrong between you and Watari, and why do you keep lying about it?

[Well, he hadn't technically asked the last question earlier... and knowing Tatsumi, he knew the answer already. Maybe pounding home the fact that he knew what those lies and evasions were would convince Tatsumi to knock it off, though.]

[There they were - questions even he didn't examine, and for good reason. Tsuzuki was a bit too brash considering the topic, but perhaps he had his own reasons. No, he did have those reasons, and he knew what they were. It wasn't grounds for further inquiry, however. So he averted Tsuzuki's stare, keeping to the dishes he now was drying.]

You already know the story.

[Tsuzuki nudged Tatsumi's leg with his nose, meaning reassurance this time instead of prodding. Knowing the story wasn't going to help them resolve it.]

...So, how about the second and third questions?

[Now he had no choice but to look at Tsuzuki sternly, even if there was an unplanned measure of uncertainty there. Tsuzuki couldn't understand the value of "no comment", could he?]

What more is there to say? He and I are just fine.

[Tsuzuki raised his head to meet Tatsumi's gaze squarely, serious for once.]

That's why you won't even talk about each other?

[09 || it was easier to type when the puppy thing was a metaphor]

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