joy: book one: the blooming.

record XVIII: apprivoise.

  Tsubaki walked into the kitchen. He picked up the china teapot and began to wash it in the sink. The water splashed upon the flowers, droplets ricocheting onto Tsubaki's shirt. Once he had completed washing and drying the teapot, he set a kettle upon a fire and picked some dried herbs from an ivory-hued, ceramic jar.

  "I apologize in advance for the tea," said Tsubaki. "I'm not very skilled in cooking or preparing beverages."
  "It's okay," replied Eva with a small smile. "I'm sure the tea will turn out just fine."

  Suddenly, a strange growl noise came from in the room. Evangelique knew that sound as none other than the rumbling of an empty stomach, but it wasn't her who made that noise. Eva looked at Tsubaki, who had turned away from her.

  "Tsubaki...are you hungry?" asked Eva.
  "Nope," answered Tsubaki quickly.
  "You sure about that?" asked Eva, who raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
  "Positive," replied Tsubaki. His stomach growled again.
  "I'm making you something to eat," said Eva, deadpan. She walked into the kitchen.
  "W-Wait, a minute, you don't have to do that--"
  "Too late, it's happening."

  Eva walked towards the sink and turned the faucet. She quickly tied up her hair and washed her hands.

  "But you're my guest--"
  "Say, where do you keep your pots and pans?"
  "You don't need to make me anything..."

  Eva turned around. She pointed a wooden spatula at the tall and willowy young man.

  "But I want to make you something," declared Eva. "It's the least I can do, seeing as you welcomed me into your home without the knowledge I'd be coming here."

  Tsubaki sighed and looked away from her, a gentle blush coming from his otherwise pale face.

  "Fine," he said stubbornly. "Then, at least let me help you."
  Eva grinned.
  "Alright then, if you could cut some herbs, that would be very helpful!" responded Eva, jovial.

  Tsubaki nodded as he went to grab a wooden cutting board and a knife from a cabinet. Evangelique watched him chop up herbs. She could see he was determined to achieve perfection.
  As she looked at him, she noticed the scar over his left eye.

  "Tsubaki," began Eva as she stirred a pot filled with broth she had bought at the food market hours before. "If you don't mind my asking, do you cover up the scars on your face?"
  "...I don't want to scare the people around me," he replied. His voice was quiet and peppered with stiffness.
  "Why do you think your scars could scare someone?" asked Eva.
  "Because..." started Tsubaki, who did not look away from his task. "They are afraid of them."
  "They?"
  "Everyone. People may be silent about their thoughts, but their expressions and reactions speak louder than words."

  'He's more open of a person than I perceived...' thought Eva to herself.

  She thought of her prosthetic legs, subconsciously looking down at them. She winced as her heart dropped.

  As a child, she knew everyone around her viewed her as different. They took one glimpse of her legs and immediately felt disgust or pity. Even though they whispered that she was a disturbing tragedy of a child or an inconsiderate girl for showing the pain she had faced, she heard it all loudly.

  So, she decided to wear long socks and long dresses, wishing to conceal her flaws.
She quickly took another glance at Tsubaki, with painful understanding in her eyes. Could she say something that could help him to know that he didn't have to hide the pain he had faced?

  As her mind went through various things to say, her mouth opened.

  "I understand what that can be like," said Evangelique. Her eyes softened, looking into the warm, caramel-colored broth she cooked. "When I was a child, I had scars. People were afraid of them and often stayed far away because I didn't look like everyone else."