PSL for Hannibal, post-concert

[electro_kinetic]

"Not that I mind a field trip, but how exactly did you talk the Professor into me staying in your house?"

She was still wearing her concert attire, leaning against the doorjamb of Hannibal's house. Helpfully, she had clothes with her, though how well they measured up to what she wore at a semi-formal event was anyone's guess. She was a reasonably polite guest thus far, short of this hesitation: nothing had yet mandated she get mouthy or violent.

"Should I take off my heels or do you not hold to that tradition?" She knew enough of her therapist by now to know he had connections to Japan and the culture, but how far those extended was unknown.

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[il_mostro]

"I told him you could do with some time apart from the chaos of saving the world. That you could use some perspective -- and a good meal."

Hannibal smiled at her, as he stepped back to let her inside his home. He glanced down at her attire thoughtfully, then down to her heels. "I have no concern whether or not you wear the heels in my home. They are quite becoming. However, you might find them uncomfortable. Since this is a dinner to have you comfortable ..."

[electro_kinetic]

She shrugs. "I mean, I'm perfectly fine either way. They're relatively comfortable as far as heels go," Noriko says. "There are worse things guys have asked me to do than keep my shoes on."

It earns him a smile, and she steps inside, taking in the room for a moment. "Nice house." It's less stuffy than the school, done up in something a bit more edgy somehow. "So your plan is to cook for me."

[il_mostro]

"Well then, follow me then." He turned neatly, moving his way down the hallway and into the heart of his home. The kitchen, with it's warm woods and yet stark cabinets and work tables. Fresh herbs grew in small elegant pots, set in along the wall. In front of them, Hannibal had the makings of sushi which he was preparing himself, along with with soup, vegetables and chicken ready to be cooked, rice, and fresh vegetables, all to be served together at the same time.

"Oh, do you have any food allergies?"

[electro_kinetic]

"Not that I know about," Noriko replied, following along to the kitchen. The food in progress got a lifted eyebrow as she sidestepped Hannibal.

"Felt like making a taste of home, or what?" she asks. Not many non-Asian people would consider sushi attainable to prepare easily or for a guest. And oddly not much of the ingredients that went toward that were the Americanized versions. How strange.

"You're not gonna lecture me on bushido, are you? Because that would make this really awkward." It's not that she's suspicious of him in particular, but this situation has happened before.

[il_mostro]

Hannibal rolled his sleeves up precisely once more, so the food preparation would not stain his button-down shirt, and tied the apron back around his narrow waist. He moved to where he was rolling the sushi, arching an eyebrow at her as he began to carefully pack the rice and fish together. "I thought it might be something that would make you feel more comfortable and comforted at my table."

The faintest of dry looks. "I would not do you the insult. Although if you wish to give me lessons in bushido, I would be happy to expand my knowledge."

[electro_kinetic]

She snorts softly, watching Hannibal move; he's competent and confident about having someone else in his space, which puts her at ease. It's hard to relax around jumpy people "I find the gesture lovely. Just unusual," she says. "Never had a therapist make me dinner before."

Clearly she doesn't find it all that uncomfortable, for all that she finds it weird.

"I'm not a samurai, so I'm hardly an expert on it either. It's just the favorite topic of the wild neckbeard." She may be something of an expert in that field, but it's really not the topic she wants to expand on. "Besides, I already fail at the filial piety thing."

[il_mostro]

"Well, I have always been told I am an unusual therapist to begin with, so I suppose this is only fitting." He smiled at her, before gesturing her to one of the stools to sit down on.

"Ah, I see. Well, I am afraid I will only be asking you what you would like to drink." He stated with a completely straight face. He paused, and gave her a curious look. "I suppose it must be obvious, with the blue hair and the mutant gene. Have your parents directly disowned you?"

[electro_kinetic]

"Well, if you're going to ask me those sorts of questions, what king of alcohol do you have?" she asked, taking a seat. She wasn't uncomfortable watching people cook; she didn't want to be in the way, but she was at least passable with knife skills. Communal kitchens, teenagers, the doctor at the school had gotten tired of patching them all up constantly.

"Formally, no. They've never sent me any legal indication of being disinherited, or of being served with a notice of no trespass. But seeing as I live very nearly on the opposing side of the planet, I don't know that they'd think it necessary," she amended with a sigh. "But the last time I spoke to my parents, they said they'd rather I be dead than mutant." So there's that. It was pretty final to Noriko.

"Why?"

[il_mostro]

"Well, I have several good wines I can go open. Scotch. Brandy. Whiskey. I do have a cask beer I have been brewing for two years now, using animal blood." Hannibal stated, as he continued to prep the food to be pan-fried, versus that which would remain raw for the contrasting flavors. He glanced up at her as she spoke, dark eyes looking pensive.

"I see. Yet despite having the classic problem of one's parents never understanding them - you've decided that you prefer to be your own person to the hilt. Do you regret any of it? Or do you find yourself stronger because of the distance? I would guess the latter."

[electro_kinetic]

"Well, they're not going to spontaneously change their minds. Or my father won't, and my mother won't contradict him." She knew this as intimately as she knew the back of her own hands. Currently she's not looking at those, though, just at Hannibal. "Whiskey sounds fine." She shrugs.

"Do I regret not staying on mind-numbing medication and lying about what I am? No. Do I regret leaving the country without saying I loved my little brother? Yes," she says. "Strong is relative. Being a homeless female teenager in Manhattan changes the scale a bit."

[il_mostro]

Hannibal turned his wok on medium, and poured a measure of sesame oil within. He wiped his hands on his apron and gave Noriko a warm smile, "Coming up."

He sauntered easily to the bar in his study, and poured her a whiskey neat. She did not seem the type who would take it on ice, after all, and called back into the kitchen as he carried the glass. "Do you find a great deal of the need to depend on yourself came from this rejection from your parents? Also, your need to protect younger children than you, as perhaps ... a stand-in for your little brother?"

[electro_kinetic]

She took a deep break and sighed, lifting her shoulders. "I don't know that it comes from them particularly. All they said was that I was unwelcome in their home--they didn't tell me to leave the country, that was all me." She'd hitch-hiked to Yokota Air Base, and from there flew to some shithole town in Georgia, made her way up the coast.

"There's no stand-in for Keitaro. I don't know if he's like me or not, and if he is then we're both combatants in the same conflict. I don't want to leave him to take on a situation that's impossible to live with."

[il_mostro]

Hannibal put down a coaster before her, and then handed over the whiskey at her elbow. Moving back before the counter once more, he started to gently put the food into the wok, lowering the heat so everyone would cook neatly. He checked the rice cooker, and then went back to rolling his sushi.

"So your family has very little to do with who you are today?" He asked, fingers rolling slowly.

[electro_kinetic]

"I never thought about what precisely has made me 'who I am' other than my own decisions. Because let's be honest, I fucked up my life way more than my dad ever did. I don't want to leave my classmates to inherit a war I walked away from."

Noriko picked up the glass idly, sipping. And she was impressed, that showed on her face. "Is this the Hibiki twenty-one?"

[il_mostro]

Hannibal hummed under his breath, giving her a knowing look. "Here we return for you taking responsibility for a war you did not start. Even if you do manage to stop it single-handedly, it will still have not been your doing that it began in the first place. You are doing what you can, Noriko. That is more than most."

He went back to the wok, glancing at the glass, "Yes it is. You have excellent taste-buds."

[electro_kinetic]

She smiles. "I've had it twice before. It's pretty distinctive."

She brushes back her hair, pushing it carefully away from her face. "It doesn't feel like it. It's like...I can't conscience not doing what I'm doing."

[il_mostro]

"Which is why it is one of my favorites." Hannibal smiled warmly at her, before neatly plating the first course for her to try here in the kitchen. "Many would not consider others at all, unless it benefited them."

[electro_kinetic]

"Well, what little Latin I know is actually useful here. I'm not many people. Very evidently, if we're going by the hair and the gauntlets as well as attitude," she says, watching him plate food and flicking glances to it, him, and the doorway to the dining room. Presumably, anyway.

"Are we eating in here?"

[il_mostro]

"Oh no - I never eat in here. Even when I eat alone, I eat at my dining table." Hannibal stated with a prim if not amused smile. He walked over into the dining room, that was already beautifully set, with an elaborate center piece.

[electro_kinetic]

Noriko snorts softly. "When I eat alone it's on the floor," she chuckles. "Or in someone's office."

[il_mostro]

Hannibal looked over his shoulder at her, and tutted softly as he properly put the plates on the table. "How absolutely barbaric. Please, sit. I am going to get a bottle of wine for myself. Please, do start without me."

[electro_kinetic]

"We didn't have chairs with legs at my house when I was little," she laughed, taking a seat elegantly. "We always sat on the floor. Not on mats, but same concept. It's just easier."

[il_mostro]

"That is traditional Japanese eating style, and while I admire it I shall never emulate it unless I am in Japan. It is rude for me to appropriate it." Hannibal stated, as he came to sit down at the corner next to her. He poured himself a glass of wine. "I've done traditional Japanese dishes - sushi, sashimi, white rice and various small dishes."

[electro_kinetic]

"Given your interaction with the culture I doubt it qualifies as appropriation anymore," Noriko says. "Pretty sure as long as you're not making squinty-eyes and being racist it's fine."

She doesn't care. She's pretty sure she's appropriated something at some point in her life, but she ain't mad. "It looks really good."

[il_mostro]

Hannibal gave her a pleased smile, before he settled in his chair and folded his napkin into his lap. He gestured to the ivory chopsticks on the fine linen napkins. "Thank you, I am grateful for the compliment, and your understanding. Please, eat." He plucked up his own chopsticks, and delicately began to take small bites from each portion. Chewing, savoring, and then taking a sip of wine.

"So, how are you finding our trips to the outside world?"