A cold night for soup (open)

[Hinata Kagome]

Hinata walked into the home ec room with a recipe book in her hand. She wanted to cook but didn’t have the tools to do so in her dorm. She was happy that the school let its students cook in here. Her home ec class was one class she excelled at, she liked cooking, she liked sewing, and everything else that was in the class. It was a Saturday night and of course, she had nothing else to do. So, she figured she might as well indulge herself in cooking and then eating. Half of her wished there was someone else to eat with, or someone she could cook for; but the other half was content on being alone. Being alone meant she had her thoughts to herself, and only her thoughts, no one else’s.

There was a snow storm going on now, she didn’t know when it was going to end. Hina figured that since it was snowing and cold, that she might as well cook some soup. What better way to spend her time? And what better to eat on a cold night?

Hina put the back of ingredients down on the counter; they were Japanese ingredients that her Grandmother always sent her every couple weeks. Yes, she was going to make Japanese soup. She started humming as she started to take out everything in the reusable bag she bought at the supermarket. “Udon Noodles.” Hinata started naming the food items as she took them out of the bag and on the counter. “Kabocha Squash”, “Carrot.”, The carrot she had took out of the fridge. “Daikon Radish”, “deep-fried tofu”, “ Nappa Cabbage”, “two things of Komatsuna Spinach”, “Maitake and Shimeji Mushrooms”, “Long green onion”, “Dried Baby Sardines”, “Dashi Kombu Seaweed”, “and Miso!” After doing that, she started actually making the soup. She took a pot out, and filled it with water and placed it on the oven. Then went to work on removing the head and stomach of the sardines, placing the bottom halves into the pot of water with the seaweed (throwing out the top halves), and put it to a boil. While that boiled Hinata went to cut the vegetables.

{ooc: What's she's making. I swear there's no fish in this soup.. It's just how they make the broth!}

[Vincent Meian]

Vincent normally didn't visit the school's culinary wing, though he had wanted to for quite some time. He'd also narrowly missed meeting the teacher of that particular course multiple times, once again much to his chagrin, but today he made a point of going there to see what the rooms were like. He liked to cook, and his courses in the culinary arts at Eisai were in woefully inadequate rooms, so he hoped that Hammel was better about that sort of thing (even though he expected little). So, on this evening, he took a break from his paperwork and training notes to explore the classrooms and become more familiar with the school as a whole.

Entering the classroom, the trainer looked as he always did - taller than your average person (let alone Asian), wearing all black with his button-up shirt's sleeves rolled up and the tails tucked into the waistband of his jeans. His long hair was pulled back away from his face in a low ponytail, and a white bandanna covered his forehead. He stood straight and looked about curiously, surveying the room for a moment with a mildly impressed look on his face before noticing someone cooking across the room at one of the stations. The trainer contemplated leaving the girl to her work, since she seemed to be enjoying herself, but he decided against it and walked over casually.

Noticing the rather familiar (if unusual in the area) ingredients, the Japanese man rose an eyebrow quizzically. It was not often someone decided to make hoto noodles outside of a Japanese restaurant here in the states. Looking back to the girl, who had her back to him, Vincent stated, "You have excellent taste in soup, miss."

[Hinata Kagome]

Hinata was too absorbed in making the soup and cutting the veggies that she hadn’t noticed the other person walk in. It didn’t help that this person seemed to be like a ninja, all quiet like and not saying a word as she cut the veggies up. Hinata’s ipod’s alarm went off, and she moved to drain the fish and seaweed from the boiling water; putting the water in another pan with a strainer inside it to take the fish and seaweed out. She took the seaweed off the strainer and put it with the other things to be cut up, then threw away the fish.

She jumped when the man spoke and she turned around sharply. Her heartbeat picked up and her breath caught in her lungs. She took a deep breath, her hand on her chest, she blushed deeply. She bowed to him slightly before replying “Th-thank you. Y-you know hoto noodles?” She said before looking at him, noticing that he was oriental. She mentally slapped herself for not looking at him before she spoke. ‘I’m so stupid…’ she thought to herself. “I’m… Kagome, Hinata.” Was he from Japan? Or was he born in America? Gosh, now she felt even stupider.

[Vincent Meian]

The trainer returned the bow - a little more deeply than he would have had to normally, given that he hadn't meant to startle the poor girl. Kagome Hinata, hm? he pondered lightly. I wonder if that is in the traditional format or Americanized? Given that the name could have been either (both were common girl's names in Japan), he didn't voice the thoughts expressed in his native language. Considering that she was not one of his students, Vincent was unaware of the Hinata's ability to read thoughts.

"I do," he answered mildly, giving a nod to the ingredients. "My recipe usually involves a thicker broth than you appear to be making, however I have always been partial to stews." He seemed not to notice the slight wince around the teen's eyes as she looked up at him with her question, too; many people who glanced at him briefly wouldn't be able to tell that he was Japanese just by looking. He was, after all, too tall. No portion of his thoughts even seemed to notice the slight slip, other than a very subconscious mental acceptance of the fact. His accent would have been harder to hide, but according to some students, his accent could be any number of things.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," he added with another dip of the head. "I am Vincent Meian. Is there anything I may do to help you?"

[Hinata Kagome]

Hinata blushed as his thoughts became hers “Oh.. I.. I’m sorry… My first name… Is Hinata.” Stupid, she was stupid. She bowed again, wanting to apologize more for making it even more complicated.

Hina nodded “Oh, This is how my Grandma makes it… She taught me most of the recipes I know…” She had been watching her grandmother cook since she remembered. Once she was old enough to be in the kitchen, she started helping her. Hina’s whole family was into cooking, at least from what she knew. Even when they moved to the states, her family still made Japanese food, with the causal dish of American, and even Mexican. She hadn’t meant to wince, and she hadn’t meant to offend him. She was just surprised to see someone of her culture here, was he Japan? Or even Asian? He did make Hoto Noodles, so maybe he was.

“It’s nice to meet you… too.” She bow her head a bit, showing her respect. “Hmm… I… Well… If.. You want… You can help cut the veggies… But you don’t have to help!”

[Vincent Meian]

Vincent's brow creased slightly as a simple confusion came over him. Normally, he was very good at keeping himself contained, whether in thought or via his expressions. What made her think that he was confused? "There is no need to apologize, Kagome-san," he answered respectfully. "I must admit that our methods of introduction are different than those of the Western world."

Amusingly, it was kind of old-school for the trainer to call the rest of the European/American world that. But, it was how he was raised, and he was a product of his time.

"I see." The tall man had been picking up this particular phrase from a number of his colleagues over the last few months, and it had gradually been labelled as an equivalent to a similar phrase in Japanese; soo ka. It would have been rude to ask if Hinata had lived with her grandmother, so instead he washed his hands in the sink and replied, "You must have spent much time with her."

The Japanese man thoroughly cleaned his hands, taking special care to wash around his wedding band - germs tended to stick to jewelry, regardless of its simplicity. When he finished, he dried his hands with as much care as he did washing them, ensuring that they were completely dry for the task at hand. "It is no trouble," he answered. Though he did not smile, his features seemed to soften slightly. "I enjoy cooking, and am honored that you would allow me to aid you."

Dipping his head in both thanks and respect, Vincent retrieved the knife set aside for the task and began slicing each vegetable as it was meant to be. The uniformity of the cuts was nigh on perfect, and each piece was almost indistinguishable from any other. Since he'd been cooking for many years (likely more than Hinata had been alive), these things came quite naturally to him, and the ex-soldier fell into a lull as his scarred hands moved all on their own.

[Hinata Kagome]

Hinata wasn’t going tell him her ability, not unless he asked, because she couldn’t lie to him. She was raised better than that, but would he be mad if he knew she read his thoughts? Would he be even more mad if he knew about her ability and knew she could control it quite well and had read his mind on purpose? She had to stop doing that but it was so tempting and how else was she suppose to know he wouldn’t kidnap her, or something. Yes, she might be over thinking this a little but being in New York for some time has given her that bad habit; which had been her Grandmother’s. Hinata merely bowed her head a little, she would apologize for apologizing but that would make a scene and she didn’t want that. “yes, it is. I didn’t mean to confuse you…”

Hinata knew what he meant, mostly because of her own father calling America the same thing. She found it quite amusing, really.

‘I see’ what did that really mean, anyway? She never got that phrase, what did he see? Did he understand her when talking about her grandmother? Did he also have a special connection to his grandmother? So many questions, but all of them would be rude to ask so randomly. Hina nodded “oh, yes… Hmm She was like my nanny, I guess. She was always looking after me, and my siblings while my parents worked.”

Hinata couldn’t help but notice that this man was much like her father, he always took those little things seriously like washing and drying his hands. He never really smiled much either; though Hina was never really sure why; she just always thought he was unhappy. Was this man unhappy, too? “Thank you.” She gave him one of her warm smiles, happy for the help. That was something that they didn’t have in common, her father wouldn’t have helped her cook. Her mother, sure, but anyone else, he wouldn’t unless at work. “I enjoy it too, Home economics is one of my two favorite classes.” She felt herself warming up to the man already. It was nice to know that there were adults that teach at Hammel that were Asian.

Hinata began cutting things with Vincent, but stopped to watching the man as he did his own cutting. She blinked at how he cut the vegetables, they were perfect; she couldn’t help but compare them to the ones she cut up, they were far from perfect. She sighed, but smiled at Vincent “You’re really experienced.” She really wasn’t sure what that said about him… She felt even more stupid, she should have been more respectful.

[Vincent Meian]

Despite the fact that he himself was a private person, Vincent very rarely faulted anyone for using their abilities when they weren't harming anyone. Sean (also being a telepath) was a good example of this, so the fact that Hinata was reading his surface-most thoughts wouldn't have bothered him in the slightest. Such things were normal in a meta-human school. And, given the girl's inner worries of his intent, he would have gladly opened up to her anyway, simply so she could see that he meant her no harm.

However, non-telepathic trainers cannot read minds. (So there.)

"Confusion is part of learning," the tall man answered, giving her a flicker of a smile that danced around the corners of his eyes and mouth. "There is no harm in such things occasionally."

Vincent nodded in understanding at her description, refraining from using the American phrase again simply because he disliked being repetitive. "You are lucky to have such a family," he added, meaning every word in the best of intentions. Even if he had not had the best of family dynamics at her age, the trainer was very adamant about keeping his present blood-ties feeling that they could be close with their parents and other such relatives.

He returned her warm smile with a small one of his own, a softness in his features that accentuated his age in an interesting way. Lines around his eyes crinkled a bit, showing his forty-some years more clearly than his normal expression usually did. "It was one of mine as well, when I attended Eisai as a student," he agreed. "I have found that it is a useful skill and a calming recreation in equal measure."

The gradual slowing of the student's own chops in addition to the sigh gave him cause for a glance as he finished cutting his current project. Surveying the scene for a moment, he caught her smile and gave another slight one back. "I have had many years to practice," he replied, turning his free hand over to show the multitude of small scars before adding, "and have suffered many mistakes. We must all begin somewhere." And you are doing much better than I was at your age.

Her general amiability and familiarity did not bother Vincent. He had become more and more accustomed to the open nature of conversation from his American students, and thus did not note the lack of formality at all. He rarely even encouraged such things when he taught in Japan, and she was not being blatantly disrespectful. The idea of formality in such an intimate setting also escaped him; cooking was something where, if done in tandem with another, the atmosphere and end result were more important than formalities. Cooking was very personal, so any conversation had would be open and familiar - titles and careful praise were something that could be moved to the wayside if need be.

[Hinata Kagome]

Hinata was too shy to open up to anyone, even her friends she rarely opened up about her worries and feelings. She’s learned to deal with them and keep them bottled up inside. This was her true down fall, and something she would apologize to anyone a thousand times for.

Hinata nodded and smiled back, “Of course, thank you.” She was saying thank you for him not being mad at her or frustrated with her. Vincent seemed like a very nice man, and she was glad to have met him.

The girl merely nodded, wondering if she truly was lucky, maybe lucky to have her grandmother. But the rest of her family and family life in general was also a stressful topic for her and one she did not like to talk about.


“I have never attended Eisai, my family had moved before I had manifested. Do you mind if I ask what it was like?” She knew her older sibling had went there, but she hadn’t felt like she was close enough to him to ask him such questions. “I feel the same way about cooking.” Anyone would think with how much she cooks that she would be a bit thicker, considering when she cooked she only cooked for herself. But she was still skinny as ever.


She nodded, once again and knew it wouldn’t be the last time either. “I would like to be as good as you one day.” She looked at her hands “Even if I have to bear the scars of it.” She looked at Vincent “I want to open my own restaurant someday. I small one, though.” She didn’t want to take over the family restaurant with her siblings, nor did she want to follow in her parents foots steps and own a chain restaurant. She only wanted one small place, something with a homey feel “And maybe my own cooking show.” That would be nice too, but it was only a dream, and she knew she was too shy to have a cooking show. Hina smiled a little once she read his thoughts about how she was doing better than he was at her age. It made her like herself a little more.

[Vincent Meian]

The trainer moved the sliced vegetables aside with the flat of the blade as he thought about her question, picking up one of the carrots and starting on that as well, blade moving a bit more slowly than usual so that he didn't cut himself. "Eisai is... different from the Hammel Institute," he began, counting differences in his head. "The most apparent difference is the school year - in Japan, all schools have full-year programs, unlike American schools which seem to have much longer breaks during the summer. Also, the school year begins and ends in the spring, rather than the fall."

Feeling that this was not exactly what Hinata had asked him, the man continued. "There is a certain strictness to the structure of Eisai that is not present here, as well. Students are required to wear a uniform, dormitories are strictly segregated between not only gender but age, and often the simplest of infractions can have rather harsh consequences. However, it is also one of the only boarding schools in Japan that is free to attend without requiring an entrance exam or tuition payments, as Hammel and the other schools seem to operate, and a wide variety of students attend, leading to much culture diversity. I enjoyed my time there very much, though admittedly more so as a teacher than as a student."

Vincent's time as a student was at best grudging and at its worst outright confrontational - he had not been the best of students, and had left for the GSDF as soon as he was old enough to do so. As a trainer, he was a much calmer individual and more aware of how important his education had been. A decade or so late, sure - but better late than never.

Looking back to the girl, Vincent gave her a small smile that was perfectly genuine. "That is an admirable dream," he replied. "I must admit, I had never thought to open a restaurant with my skills. If you would like, I will show you a few exercises to aid your technique and perhaps speak to Professor Woonren about you entering his class next term, if you have not already."

As to cooking for themselves, the tall man had done so for much of his life, even if he'd only began doing so for others in his late teens - the idea of being a larger person because of it seemed absurd to him, and he was still as thin as he had been in high school. Broader in the shoulders, but hardly overweight.