It was another evening for Roku. Familiar sounds filled the kitchen. A hot iron sizzled as it cooked an egg. The rice cooker waited as the rice turned to a puffy state. Roku's familiar cutting noises. The crunch of vegetables under a knife. The collision of cutting board and blade. The sound of meat splitting under blade. Really, cooking was something Roku was always proud of. It was something he had done for a long time, as evidenced by every task being finished at once. He made a lot. After all, martial practitioners were often slaves to their appetite. He assembled each bento box with an eye for detail. The octopus and crab sausages were place among the rice, egg, and vegetables. The theme of these boxes were a day at the beach. Was it accurate? About as much as a bento could be.

As day turned night, his duties and obligations to his personal life were completed. The lunches for the dojo were placed in the fridge. He kept five of the boxes for himself. After all, who knew if someone would be hungry at the agency!

So Roku entered the Shokuden as he always did. His mission history wasn't exactly the most tenured, but he remained a consistent figure for those in the Shokuden. Even if he just appeared every now and again between training to offer a meal for the night.

[color=f6989d][b]"Bento, anyone?"[/b][/color] He asked everyone [color=f6989d][b]"I'll trade some for a mission~."[/b][/color]