The rice was burnt, slightly crisped and charred at the edges. It was also a bit coarse. How does one ruin rice like this? It would be impressive if it wasn’t so sad. Yet, Kyojuro didn’t let it deter him. Regardless of how it looked, this was food and he was grateful for it. After all, any meal might be his last.

Ignoring the protests of the cook who’d made it, he happily picked up the bowl and a pair of chopsticks, chowing down eagerly. Mm. Could use some salt. Other than that, it wasn’t necessarily inedible.

“Delicious!” He boomed, popping another mouthful. “Thank you for the meal!”

The helper who had botched the rice was shocked, almost concerned. Usually, they skipped cooking duty. It was impressive how often even the simplest of meals were ruined by their hands.

And yet, Kyojuro ate everything that was put in front of him. Every time, without fail. In any other situation, it would have been flattering. This time, the cook couldn’t help but feel a little bad. This had to be considered torture of some sort.

But Kyojuro didn’t seem to mind, humming as he ate.

Within minutes, the bowl was empty. Even crumbs were nowhere to be found. He held out the bowl, wordlessly asking for seconds. “I always look forward to your meals,” he beamed. If anyone else had said such a thing, it would’ve been obvious they were lying.

Kyojuro was nothing if not honest.