[sup][h1][center][color=black] 一 色 み か こ - I S S H I K I  M I K A K O[/color]
[color=goldenrod]一 色 み か こ - I S S H I K I  M I K A K O[/color][/center][/h1][/sup]
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An exaggerated pout came to Mikako's face, replaced after a moment with a more typical gentle smile as she reached out, placed the chopstick case on top of the polished sakura-patterned bento with a pronounced [i]click[/i], and pushed the whole thing a few more inches toward Suzuka.

"[color=goldenrod]Really, Suzuka, it's fine! I ate a [i]huuuge[/i] breakfast, and it's not a full day, remember? I'll whip something up at home before I even have the chance to feel hungry![/color]" A beat passed. "[color=goldenrod]And really, what kind of friend would I be if I let my best friend's first meal back be crummy cafeteria food when I've got a perfectly good lunch right here?[/color]"

There was already a bit of a hungry pinch in her stomach, actually. And she needed to attend to quite a few things before she'd go home. But no way was she telling Suzuka that!

"[color=2596be]"You don't have to go that far. I can get something at the cafeteria. I still need to figure out where everything is, anyway.[/color]"

An emphatic shake of Mikako's head followed. "[color=goldenrod]Alright, Miss Fussypants![/color]" She gave Suzuka a teasing poke in the forehead before reaching out to pop the lid off the bento, revealing something that looked like it had come right out of a commercial. White rice with black sesame seeds, topped with a single honey-pickled plum; a few pieces of the pan-fried mackerel from that morning; a simple salad of lettuce and spinach with some cucumbers and cherry tomatoes for color; and a few slices of hand-rolled tamagoyaki, the making of which was one of the kitchen skills Mikako was most proud of. "[color=goldenrod]If you insist, then we'll just have to share it![/color]" She plopped the chopsticks down in front of Suzuka, divested of their case, and at the same time reached out and plucked a cherry tomato.

Then, spontaneously, she remembered that Arashiyama-senpai was [i]still there[/i]. Most of the people in her own year had gotten used to her little idiosyncrasies after a full year dealing with them. But she almost never saw the giant judoka. Suddenly self-conscious, instead of popping the tomato into her mouth she let it roll idly around on her palm and lowered her voice a bit. Most of the Transfer Student Inquisition had departed by now, scattered by Arashiyama-senpai, and gone to eat their own lunches, whether on their desks or in the cafeteria. But the last thing she wanted to do was embarrass Suzuka on her first day back.

"[color=goldenrod]Anyway, there's nothing that makes me happier than people enjoying my cooking. Go on, eat up.[/color]"

With that said, she finally turned to face the upperclassman directly, giving her as genuine a smile as she dared as she clutched a nervous hand surreptitiously on her sleeve. "[color=goldenrod]Thank you for stepping in, senpai. I apologize for not greeting you before. What brings you here?[/color]"