Tokyo: Ebisu/Ramen Stand
Joys of Eating/Sins of Remembered Heroes
“Ahhaa.. This is really nice.” the tall cheerful foreigner piped up as the chopsticks in his hand poked at the slice of pork belly, barely more solid than the fatty soup it bathed in as it practically dissolved and fell apart. “It’s hard to get enough of this isn’t it master? Mhmm, mhm. It was worth coming around for sure.” Noodles disappeared with obscene, loud slurping. Manners forgotten, or rather placed to the side as instead he pursuited a more base and yet sincere etiquette. Well, that as never his strength, even if he did learn overtime. In a time like this, in a place like this he simply planned to enjoy himself as a normal person.”
The plump, springy and dripping with stock chashu became its own stock, the fat basically a liquid upon touching his tongue. The meat soon followed as each chew was less a ripping through flesh and more a softly whispered request for it to simply fall apart.
“Ah, it’s good. It’s really good. Aha, don’t you think so? Oh but I wonder what it’d be with the curry. Isn’t it weird? It’s like mixing stew and soup together. Or maybe it’s like when you got a muddy puddle of water and the mud collects at the bottom? Or maybe they blend it really well?”
The fried rice that made for a more solid staple on the side started as a mound that swiftly disappeared. Spoon after spoon digging away casually. There was no sense of rushing, or rabid gourging. Rather his natural speed and state simply devoured what was in front of him quickly. None could doubt that he fully enjoyed what he had. If anything then it could be said that he did not pause at all, that there was no delay. Even as he spoke he smoothly filled the gaps between words with a gulp of beer from an overflowing pitcher with a crown of pure white bubbly foam. Enjoying the journey, chasing after the end. That was what he, the knight of the spear embodied.
“Oho, it’s here, it’s here!” Leaning forward, rear lifting ever-so slightly in anticipation and cheer. The chopsticks in his hands twirled as a sizzling iron-pan of pan-fried dumplings was placed in front of them. “The sesame oil, the sesame oil. We can’t forget that can we?” No regards to calories, measuring the consumption of food not in energy, whether it was biological or magical. He simply ate to enjoy the moment of feasting.
The crunch of the burnt flat surface, the mixture of chives, meat, garlic oil, soy sauce and vinegar dancing on his tongue. “Mhm. Even Gawain’d enjoy this. But what about you? Aha, you must be more used to this kind of stuff right? Even if this isn’t exactly food for you back home… Home, hm? What even is home like for you anyway, master?”
The sounds of his busy eating were ever present, noticeable above the chatter and background of the stall and streets. Alleyway after alleyway, small nook and cranny spreading through the city like tiny veins bringing people together in refuge after work, in sustenance and company showing the bustle of life. Even more than the leylines, even more than something like the health of a king or emperor such streets showed better both the health and sickness of the city and country alike. This was the thing that they as servants and magi threatened with their selfishness. This was then what they had to protect as heroes.
“Ah, before you ask what home means for me… to be honest it’s a place to rest your head where you know people you like. I’ve been told that’s dumb before, but it’s true. The real mark of a home I guess is if it’s something precious to those people you like, if it’s precious enough to fight for. Something like that was the little forest I left for my mom I guess. Something like that was the kingdom for my king. Ah. It was a lot of fun, but it was sad too. But it wouldn’t be sad if it wasn’t important.”
Without a trace of a frown he spoke of his past, of what could be regrets that ate at others. In the same breath that he talked about the mother he left in grief, and the king who gave his all for the kingdom only to find nothing but a hill of bloodied swords he brought the bowl of soup to his lips and guzzled it down.
“Ah. That was good. Yo, master. You say we go looking for a fight? Or for dessert? I’m fine with either.”
