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Jūshirō Ukitake had just finished getting fresh tea when he spotted Shunsui across the busy market. Delighted, the white-haired youth wove his way through the crowd to his friend’s side. “Shunsui! What brings you here?”
Shunsui Kyōraku turned to face him, smiling. “Just picking up a few things to make for dinner.”
“You? Cook? I thought you preferred to eat out. Or, at the very least, let someone else cook for you! Wasn’t that why you were so fascinated with what’s-her-name? Ah, Toshiko?”
“Yes, but other than her cooking, I didn’t like much else. I mean, she was pretty, but there are prettier people out there.”
Jūshirō craned his neck to peer into Shunsui’s basket. “Shun! Are you sure you know how to cook?!”
“Yes?” Shunsui blinked at him, confused.
Jūshirō shook his head, bemused. “You have daikon, fish, eggs, and ginger. What are you even making?”
Shunsui stuck his tongue out at him. “I have a few things at my place. This was just what I was missing! If you think I can’t cook, then come by tonight and prepare to be amazed!” He knew Juu could be picky at times, but he was certain he could impress his best friend.
Jūshirō laughed. “Fine. I’ll be there.” He waved at Shunsui as he walked off, needing to finish his own shopping.
--
That evening, Jūshirō held to his promise and arrived at Shunsui’s home. The scent seemed fine, mostly? There was something off, but he couldn’t quite figure out what. He didn’t think anything more of it as Shunsui let him in. He took a seat at the table, teasing Shunsui about how he did on a field test they had earlier.
“Your dinner, sir,” Shunsui said, proudly, as he set a bowl down in front of Jūshirō.
The bowl contained broth, fish, and other items. It looked like something Juu had seen at some of the more upscale restaurants, which impressed him. “What did you make?” he inquired.
“Buri Daikon, Kyōraku style. It’s a variant my brother makes.” Well, mostly. He might have made a few ingredient exchanges.
“Well, it looks wonderful. It seems I was wrong.” Jūshirō took a spoonful of his soup. It was… one of the worst things he’d ever tasted. There were several competing flavors, and the strong ginger taste overwhelmed many of the others. He managed a smile. “Ahh, it’s... an experience.”
Shunsui narrowed his eyes, knowing his best friend. Jūshirō hated it. “You can tell me the truth, Juu. I can take the criticism.”
Jūshirō set his spoon down, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “Buri Daikon should focus on the flavors of the fish and the daikon. You’ve added so much of your spices that they overwhelm rather than complement. And then there’s the ginger. Ginger requires a delicate touch, or it takes over, as it has done here. It also conflicts with the other tastes you have here.” He continued to go into detail about what was wrong with the meal. Jūshirō looked up at Shunsui as he concluded and could see how his words had stung the other, despite Shunsui trying to mask the pain. He felt his heart drop; he hadn’t meant to hurt Shunsui. “Your presentation was gorgeous, though, Shun,” he finished, giving a full smile, hoping that would lessen the pain.
Shunsui hadn’t expected to have done that badly. “Fine. Why don’t you make something and show me how it’s done?”
Jūshirō blinked. He knew how to cook; he’d learned to help his parents with his younger siblings. “Alright. But tomorrow.” He looked down at the disaster of a soup.
“You don’t have to finish it. We can go out for a meal instead.”
--
Jūshirō spent the following morning trying to decide what he was going to make. He wanted something that would impress Shunsui. It was silly, perhaps, but he had a bit of a crush on his friend. He hadn’t said anything, certain that he had no chance and Shunsui didn’t reciprocate his feelings. And he’d rather suffer his crush in silence than to lose Shunsui.
He finally settled on a fish curry. He wanted to show how to focus on the fish as the centerpiece of the dish. Fish curry had been a favorite meal for three of his brothers, so it was one that he had a lot of experience making.
Shunsui was on time, which surprised Jūshirō; Shunsui was rarely on time for anything unless he had someone else making him. Jūshirō prepare the plates, knowing they wouldn’t appear like anything special. He was used to serving children who didn’t care what it looked like. These were mostly just large blobs of golden yellow with rice.
Shunsui looked at the plate, hesitant. He then looked up at Jūshirō, who was watching him expectantly. He gave a half smile and took a bite. There was a delightful explosion of taste. It was the best thing he’d ever had – and he’d eaten meals from some of the best cooks in the Rukon. He took several more bites and then he heard the laughter. Startled, his attention snapped up to Jūshirō. “What?”
“I’m guessing you like it,” Jūshirō managed around his laugh. “Just like my brothers.”
“Juu, and I mean this sincerely, this is the best thing I’ve ever had.”
Jūshirō was about to have some comeback, but he hadn’t expected that complement. “I… you what?”
“This is the best meal I’ve ever had. Fish curry isn’t a comfort food for me, but yours might be. Actually, I think I’d be happy with anything you cook, no matter how it looks.” Shunsui ate more of the curry. “Maybe I should marry you, so I know that I’d always be getting the best meals.”
Jūshirō flushed. “Don’t tease me like that, please, Shunsui,” he said, quietly, dropping his gaze down to his lap.
Shunsui stopped, setting down his utensils. “Juu. What if I wasn’t teasing? I’ve always enjoyed being in your presence. When you’re not there, I notice. I feel it. When you get sick, I worry. Yes, I know, I chase all the girls and barely acknowledge most boys. Except for you. You’re different. I may not know where we’re going, but I do know that I want you in my life. Always.” He shifted around the table to move next to Jūshirō. “Maybe this is forward of me, but will you be mine? Will you stay with me, through all of our future challenges and joys?”
Jūshirō blinked back tears of joy. “Yes, I will. Always. But that means I am going to teach you how to cook, so you’re not going to destroy every meal you attempt to make.”
Shunsui chuckled, putting his arms around Juu’s waist, pulling him close. Where he fit, where Shunsui felt he belonged. “Fine. No promises that I’m any good as a cook, but I’ll try, handsome.”