Evening had fallen by the ti Kanzaki Ryoma stepped through the door, arms full with grocery bags. The fridge had been picked clean over the past few days, and he'd finally taken the hint.
"I'm back."
"I'm back."
He and Rize spoke almost at the sa ti.
Two pairs of shoes greeted them in the entryway, one black and one white. Kurona and Nashiro had clearly returned before them.
From the living room, the twins erged, calmly but warmly.
"Welco back," they said in unison.
They had only been living here for a short while, but the way they greeted him without hesitation, without awkwardness made it feel like they belonged there.
Nashiro stepped forward and took the bags from his hands. "It's almost dinner ti. I'll cook for you tonight, Ryoma."
"You sure? I can do it myself."
Ryoma raised a brow. Nashiro had always been quiet, even withdrawn, yet now she addressed him so naturally. She even called him "Ryoma."
Kurona's eyes narrowed slightly at that.
But she knew Nashiro better than anyone. Ever since their father had been killed, Nashiro had been desperate for sothing— soone to fill that void. Not that man, Kanou, who only exploited them. Ryoma, in so small way, had beco that anchor for her.
Kurona wasn't sure how she felt about it.
"I want to. Let do this much to repay your kindness," Nashiro said, her face expressionless, but her voice just slightly softer.
Ryoma gave in. "Alright. Just don't push yourself."
Normal food wouldn't sit well with them. As one-eyed ghouls, even the scent could be unbearable.
But Nashiro was already prepared. She pulled out a white mask and slid it on with a snap.
"...You're really serious about this," Ryoma muttered with a quiet smile.
Kurona joined in then. "I'll help too. It's not just Nashiro who owes you."
"You two are really too polite."
"Do you have another mask?" Kurona asked her sister.
Nashiro silently passed one over. Clearly, she had planned ahead for both of them.
They headed into the kitchen, masks on, carrying the ingredients he'd bought.
Ryoma didn't follow. He trusted them.
After all, with everything they'd been through—the death of their father, their family stolen by Kano—cooking for themselves must have been a necessity for years.
---
Less than thirty minutes later, the two girls stepped out of the kitchen.
Aprons tied tight. Masks still on. Plates in hand.
They had made three dishes and a soup. All arranged neatly on the table.
Ryoma pulled out a chair and sat down. Kurona and Nashiro joined him, removing their masks.
The aroma filled the room, faintly. It wasn't unbearable to them, not unless they ate it.
Even Rize took her place next to Ryoma this ti. Normally, she stayed away during als. But tonight, she watched with a quiet intensity.
Kurona and Nashiro sat upright, staring straight at him as he lifted his chopsticks.
He was the only one eating.
The only human.
In a house full of ghouls, this was his place at the table.
He took a bite.
"Is it good?"
"Does it taste okay?"
The twins spoke together, heads tilting slightly in sync.
"It's delicious," Ryoma said, without hesitation.
He wasn't great with words. But he showed it by digging in.
Kurona and Nashiro both went silent. Sothing unspoken passed between them. They both thought the sa thing:
If only we weren't ghouls. If only we could sit here and eat like this, as a normal family.
But the damage was done. The experint that turned them into one-eyed ghouls couldn't be undone. That kind of wish was aningless now.
Rize spoke suddenly.
"Do you like it?" she asked, calm and composed.
"Hm?"
Ryoma paused, not understanding.
"The feeling of being taken care of by other girls."
He blinked, then nodded. "It's nice."
"I see."
Rize nodded slowly, lips curling into a faint smile.
After dinner, Ryoma stood up, ready to carry the dishes to the sink, but the girls beat him to it.
They moved like clockwork, as if determined to take care of everything.
Later, Nashiro approached him again. "Ryoma, was it okay? What I made?"
Her voice was neutral, but her eyes held sothing—expectation, nervousness.
"You did great. It helped a lot," he said without missing a beat.
Nashiro smiled, just slightly. But to him, it was more than enough.
Kurona, sitting on the side, suddenly stood up.
She walked toward him without a word, then paused right beside him, pretending to look around aimlessly.
Waiting.
She said nothing.
But her eyes, her posture, her silence—all scread the sa thing:
Tell I did well too.
And Ryoma noticed.
Of course he did.
***
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