[ His voice is serious, a little demanding even perhaps. But then the moment is past, and he's moving to dish up ramen into bowls that appear out of nowhere, hand one off to his friend. He settles down as if he plans to eat quietly; he doesn't really mind more talking, but doesn't need it either, and it's pretty much just a matter of what Masaomi needs, now.
If his friend can eat something, it'll make Mikado feel a lot better, at least. ]
[Talking isn't something he's very good for right now. Talking requires either admittance or denial, and he doesn't have the energy for either. He feels that's evidenced pretty obviously in their conversation thus far. But he doesn't want to think about that either, so he accepts the offered ramen and promptly focuses his attention on it, letting the smell invade his nostrils as a nausea test.
When no vomit is imminent, one little sip is followed by another is followed by a cautious mouthful. Maybe it's the relief or even just Mikado's presence (because it's certainly not the taste), but it takes everything he has not to cry into the bowl.]
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Good. 'Cause I plan to stick around this time.
[It's a promise.]
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[ His voice is serious, a little demanding even perhaps. But then the moment is past, and he's moving to dish up ramen into bowls that appear out of nowhere, hand one off to his friend. He settles down as if he plans to eat quietly; he doesn't really mind more talking, but doesn't need it either, and it's pretty much just a matter of what Masaomi needs, now.
If his friend can eat something, it'll make Mikado feel a lot better, at least. ]
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When no vomit is imminent, one little sip is followed by another is followed by a cautious mouthful. Maybe it's the relief or even just Mikado's presence (because it's certainly not the taste), but it takes everything he has not to cry into the bowl.]