"Heat water to a boil," Toshiro said while dicing the neat stack of mushrooms that sat on the cutting board, the knife flying down in quick motions.
A pleasant ding sounded from the virtual assistant. "Turning on the burner."
After hearing the confirmation, Toshiro returned to slicing the vegetables he had prepared, softly humming as he cut through the carrots and tomatoes.
Outside, the wind roared, announcing the onset of a snowstorm that would likely worsen during the night. Inside, though, it was a cozy winter evening, as Toshiro added the noodles and vegetables into the boiling water, stirring gently with his chopsticks.
Putting the lid on the pot, Toshiro raised his arms to stretch while he waited for the food to cook. He'd only just taken a break to make a quick dinner, having been on the Oasis all day. There had been quite the frenzy: somehow, it seemed that everyone had gotten word that Sho had completed a challenge with Daito, making it the only time that Sho had partnered with anyone. That meant that, now, everyone was coming up with analysis and theories of how it happened: had Daito blackmailed Sho into teaming up with him? Were the duo secretly part of a Mafia gang together?
There'd been a number of questions for Toshiro, but he had tried to deflect them as best he could, retreating to one of the private training islands reserved for the top players that the Oasis-journalists and general public couldn't access. Of course, there were even more questions for Sho, but he hadn't been online. For some reason, he seemed to disappear for days on end before logging on again, which, without a doubt, led to even more speculation.
Toshiro shook his head, thinking of how excessively prying these people were. They should let the poor guy alone, let him breathe a little. But then again, maybe this was what you got by choosing a career as a professional Oasis player. Fawned upon and sought after, but ultimately alone.
A soft hiss of air emerged from the pot, indicating his dinner was just about cooked. He took the lid off the pot to ladle out the broth and noodles before bringing his meal to the counter. Blowing on the steaming noodles, he took a bite and smiled wistfully with nostalgia. This was still his comfort food, familiar from his childhood.
The last time he'd eaten noodles like this... must've been with that kid, Zhou, in the restaurant. How nice it had been to enjoy a meal with someone else that time. Even if the kid had barely talked, he was still a good companion.
He hoped Zhou was doing okay, especially considering the weather. It would be freezing out there, alone.
Toshiro ate the rest of his meal in silence.