Flight VII: Catering

"Now," Izumi turned to Naoya, drawing his attention away from the window and the car tail lights beyond. "We should have plenty of time. Come on."

Naoya followed his enthusiastic friend into the kitchen and watched as Izumi pulled pans, bowls and utensils from various cupboards and drawers before diving into the refrigerator.

"I take it we're making dinner," Naoya commented, taking the head of lettuce Izumi shoved at him and placing it on the counter just in time to catch the styrofoam container of ground beef.

Two minutes and half the contents of the fridge later, Naoya still had no idea what Izumi intended to cook. Especially since Izumi's culinary skill extended - just barely - to microwaving leftovers and pre-packaged dinners.

"Look." Izumi took a much-folded photocopy out of his jeans pocket and tried to smooth it out before handing it to Naoya. "This was one of Shiki's recipes. I found it in one of those old cookbooks." Izumi waved a celery stalk in the direction of a small wooden shelf that held an assortment of books and knick knacks. "I made a copy and bought all the ingredients when I went to the grocery store this morning. Takamiya nearly caught me but I managed to distract him."

Izumi's faint blush told Naoya exactly how Takamiya had been distracted. It amused Naoya greatly that Izumi still blushed about such things.

"You're laughing at me."

"I am not."

Izumi thumped the container of pepper onto the counter. "That kind of smile on you is the equivalent of someone else's hysterical laughter."

"You're not making sense," Naoya replied calmly. "As usual."

"You going to help me or what?" Izumi's pretend scowl didn't quite cover the hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

Naoya took the photocopy and read through the simple recipe. He knew Izumi enough to know that this was very important to him. It didn't matter what the reason was - he'd find out eventually.

"Meatloaf", he read. "Sounds simple enough." Naoya surveyed the ingredients, arranging them in a line on the counter to match the order on the recipe. "Want to help with this or start making the salad?"

"Salad," Izumi declared with a nod and a bit of a grimace. "Even I can't mess that up. And I bought cookies for dessert. But..." Izumi shrugged his shoulders. "Never mind."

"You might as well tell me. You will eventually anyway."

"It's stupid and Aoe will hate it."

"Aoe-san isn't as hard to please as you think. You're just over-sensitive."

Izumi harrumphed and reached for the salad bowl. He tore lettuce into irregular pieces in silence while Naoya started preparing the meatloaf. They worked in silence for a few minutes.

"Jell-o." Izumi's whisper barely broke the quiet. "It's dumb." Izumi hunched over the salad bowl and tore off a chunk of lettuce. "Takamiya likes it sometimes."

"I like it too," Naoya replied without looking up from his measuring and mixing. "Sometimes I make the kind you can eat with your fingers."

Izumi looked up, surprised, then offered Naoya a grin. He opened the nearest cupboard, reached behind some canned goods and took out two large boxes of orange gelatin mix.

Naoya took them and placed them beside the sink. "If we make it now, it'll be ready for dinnertime."

Izumi nodded and picked up the remainder of the lettuce. He watched as Naoya prepared the gelatin, then finished shaping the meatloaf.

"I can at least wash dishes," Izumi insisted as he finished putting away the unused ingredients.

"No argument here," Naoya agreed, setting the tea kettle on to heat. He took up the dish cloth and leaned against the counter, waiting for Izumi to start washing.

"Is meatloaf the reason you didn't want to go to that Meet the Author party today?"

Izumi snorted and placed the first of many dishes into the drainer. "Not exactly."

"So the life of a famous author isn't as glamorous as you expected?"

"I don't think glamorous is in Takamiya's dictionary. It's part of the job, though. Going to boring parties, meeting pretentious people, being groped by overeager fans - both genders." Izumi shrugged. "He handles it pretty well."

"And you don't." It wasn't a question. Naoya already knew the answer. He wasn't sure Izumi would ever fit into that kind of chaotic life. For all his bluster, Izumi liked quiet, simple things.

"The food isn't even that good. I thought at least I'd get to try interesting new things but," he made a face. "I guess Jell-o is about my speed."

"Nothing wrong with that."

"It must be hard, sometimes." Izumi dropped his hands into the dishwater and looked at his friend. "Fitting into Aoe's world."

Naoya smiled softly. "Not as hard as you think. He makes it easier."

"Takamiya does too, I guess. It's just. I don't want to disappoint him." Izumi lowered his head, taking up a measuring cup and scrubbing it with unnecessary force. "I can't even decide what to do with myself."

"College isn't for everyone."

"He's already so much... more than me - smarter, funnier, better with people. He can garden and cook and write. I just..."

"You just give him the encouragement and support to do all of that."

Izumi considered this while he scrubbed the last of the dishes, finally surrendering the last one to Naoya's waiting hands.

"Maybe," he finally conceded. "But I still can't cook."

"That's what the microwave is for," Naoya assured him, offering Izumi a wide smile and a cup of steaming tea.

:::end:::

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