The Infirmary

"I... I couldn't bring myself to kill someone I held close... My clan has not had an active ninja in generations... We were heartless killers... We were feared because of it... But I couldn't do it... I was weak... " He hold back tears. No... You are strong... You were strong enough to admit your faults... Even if it cost you the title of Chunin... Sebaata cocks his head to the side as he looked at her, sun still shining on her face. "I guess I have mixed feelings about everything... It's like you said... I don't want to run back to the errors of the past..." 

Sebaata felt a rumble in his stomach. I'm not sure how long I've been laying here... "How long have you been sitting next to me? Are you hungry?"

“Weak, you're definitely stronger than Ray, and hell you might even be able to take Akio out. You were right to not try and take a friend's life. Break the cycle, the sand and your clan can be anyway ya want it to be.” she says while smirking at Sebaata.

“I haven't been here long. I left right as Akio was kicking that blood guy's ass. The fight was basically over so I came over to see how you were, but I'm always down for a good meal.”

"Thank you... It has been difficult... I don't really have anyone I can talk to with issues of my lineage... I appreciate you listening to my issues... " Sebaata pointed a hand towards the window, letting his mind do the heavy lifting since his body physically couldn't. Soon, sand began coming through the open window. He brought it close to him and Fumiko. He hardened the sand. In front of Fumiko formed a sizable table made of sandstone with matching plate and chopsticks. In front of him, he made a large wrap around table, with utensils and cookware. He made sure where was not a single grain of sand to avoid tainting the food. "What would you like to eat?... I will make anything you would like... Take it as a thanks from me for lending your ear and helping me heal... Physically and mentally... "

“Ummmm … well fried rice sounds pretty good,” she says now enthusiastic that she may actually be getting something to eat soon.

“But then again,  some soba noodles would hit the spot, or some spicy curry.” she looks curiously up towards the ceiling as if looking for some divine inspiration.

“NO”, she says strikingly. “Can you make Dango?”

"All of your requests shall be granted... " Sebaata slowly crossed his arms, focusing heavily on the sand 8 sand orbs that were forming in front of him. In an instant, the sand compacted with heavy force, becoming 8 sandstone hands. The 8 hands broke into pairs. Simultaneously, the 4 pairs of hands weaved the same hand signs. All hands hit the table, and after a puff of smoke, a plethora of cooking elements and ingredients covered his table as he set on his hospital bed.

Each pair began working on different tasks; preparing the rice, chopping the ingredients for the curry, rolling fresh soba noodles, preparing broths, and mixing different types of rice flour for the Dango. Burners were turned on. The hands began cooking their individual items. The symphony of smells and sounds floated through the air of the room and spilled into the hallway. Rice was cooked and half was fried to perfection. The other half was put into a bowl to serve as a base for the green curry. The soba was boiled and set into their bowls awaiting the perfectly calculated broth. An assortment of meats were being grilled on a charcoal burner. The balls were formed, and set into their skewers. 

The calculated chaos in the room began to gather a crowd at the door. Nurses, patients and Doctors alike. "Oh... I'm sorry for creating a scene everyone... You are welcome to come in and enjoy... I always make plenty to share... " The group stood at the foot of his bed as the hands finalized the meals. The hands served Fumiko first. In front of her personal table laid a bowl of fried rice, white rice covered in green curry, a bowl of steaming soba noodles with meats crowning the bowl, and not one, not 2 but 3 different forms of Dango. Shoyu Dango, Ankona Dango, and Hanami Dango. 

The hands began handing out food to the crowd by request. "Please... Dig in... Let me know how it is... " he could hear the praise and compliments from the crowd, but sebaata was keenly focused on Fumiko's reaction.

“Wow, hell of a fighter and can even cook.” Fumiko says snarkily as she greedily picks up the shoyu dango. She bites down on it with a delighted yip. Still with her mouth full she blurts out, “Oh, you nailed these. They are so sweet and fluffy but not too sweet. Most people mess that up.”

She continues on to try the next dish, the soba noodles. That's where she immediately hesitates. “Oh, forgot to say I don’t eat meat. You can have this one. Doesn't make sense for you to not be able to eat any of the food you made.” She slid the bowl across the table to him.

She tried the rice and the curry and ultimately decided that curry was the better way to prepare rice after much mental deliberation.

‘Fumiko, you should ask to see what’s under that mask of his. No way is he this fine, but has an ugly face right? The suspense is killing me.’ a woman's voice rings through her mind.

“Can it you,” She blurts out very unexpectedly as she immediately darts her eyes over to Sebaata hoping in the chaos of the room that he didn’t hear that.

"Thank you... I was going to eat some but obviously I wanted to make sure you enjoyed the food most importantly... " Sebaata attempted to bow slightly but winced in pain, quickly moving back to his original sitting position. "This soba was cooked to perfection... " a pair of sandstone hands floated to him, picking up the bowl and chopsticks. The mask morphed around his lips as he ate. Slowly savoring each immaculate bite. 

His focus breaks with her outburst. "I'm sorry... Did you say something about cans?... No I do not use cans in my cooking... Freshness is a key to successful cuisine... I have considered Canning some of my food... But I feel like it will take away from the flavor... I guess it's a business idea if all else fails..." Sebaata stared at Fumiko. Oh sands help me... I'm rambling... Quick... Break the awkwardness... "Uh... It's... Um... Always important to let your chef know for dietary restrictions and food allergies... Don't want a mess at the dinner table... Liability has be a pain in the rear... " Sebaata's face grew hot, visible sweat began rolling under his mask. "That... That was a joke... He he he... I know you can't see but I'm smiling under my mask"

‘Fumi, I’m dying here, he’s basically begging you to ask him what’s behind the mask.’ the woman's voice rang out again in her mind.

‘Stop it, look what you made me do now he probably thinks i’m a weirdo Moriko,’ she addresses her in her thoughts this time. ‘I’ll get to it,’ she thinks sheepishly.

“Besides if he is willing to go through with the weird mask, mouth, thing there has to be a good reason he keeps it on.” she says out loud. Without missing a beat not realizing she said that, takes another bite of one of the dango and says, “Yeah, canning this would be a good idea, that's what I meant.” She lets out a nervous laugh.

Sebaata looks at Fumiko after the mask comment. He couldn't help but smiling, he loves sharing and teaching those of his culture. "Are you curious about my mask?... "