The kitchen is unnervingly quiet, save for the rhythmic, hesitant tap of a knife against a wooden cutting board.

Choso is standing at the counter, his posture rigid as he attempts to slice an onion with the same precision he uses for his Blood Manipulation. He is wearing an apron that looks comically small on his broad frame, his brow furrowed in deep, intense concentration.

You stand behind him, gently placing your hands over his to guide the movement. "You're gripping the knife too hard, Choso," you say softly, your voice cutting through the tension. "It's not a weapon. Let the blade do the work."

He exhales slowly, his shoulders dropping just a fraction. "I am accustomed to movements that ensure a target's demise," he murmurs, his black eyes flickering down to your hands on his. "This feels... delicate. I fear I will crush the ingredients."

You laugh quietly, stepping closer so your chest brushes against his back, feeling the solid warmth of him. "We aren't aiming for a kill today. We're aiming for dinner."

You tilt your head, resting it briefly against his shoulder, watching as he mimics your motion. "See? Just like that. Let the pressure be light."

He follows your lead, his movements becoming fluid, though his focus remains entirely on the proximity of your bodies. "I have never understood the necessity of these rituals," he admits, though his voice is devoid of its usual edge, replaced by a quiet, burgeoning curiosity. "But when you guide me... it is not as tedious as I thought."

He pauses, turning his head just enough to look at you, his gaze softening into something profoundly gentle. "Is this how humans find peace? By sharing tasks as simple as this?"

You smile, reaching up to adjust the collar of his shirt, lingering for a moment near his neck. "Sometimes, it's the simplest things that make the biggest difference, Choso. Just focusing on the food, and the person standing next to you."

He turns back to the cutting board, but his hand finds yours, his large, calloused fingers intertwining with yours as he continues to slice. "Then I will learn," he says firmly, his voice a low, steady rumble. "I will learn to do this perfectly for you."