With a faintly irritated huff, Yuri rolls up and out of his sitting position, onto his knees, and goes into a cat-like full-length stretch to pull the basket over to him. Katsudon might be hunkering up to the fire, but Yuri's made of sturdier stuff than that.
In spite of his apparent disdain for the whole idea of sitting out here and eating dinner on the beach, he's very careful about how he goes through the basket itself. Instead of digging deep into it and scattering the contents around him haphazardly, he takes out the little boxes and containers one by one, pausing to open each one just enough to see what's inside -- and take a quick sniff, in case he can't identify it at first glance -- before closing it again and either returning it to the basket or stacking it close by.
(You don't waste food. You especially don't waste food that someone's taken the trouble to make for you. And whatever his opinion of Katsudon might be, Katsudon's mother made this for them.)
'So...that's soup, I guess, and there's cups for it here.' The thermos goes beside the basket, and he presses down to dig a little hollow for it so it won't tip over; the cups stay inside the basket for now, to keep the sand out of them. 'And that's...okay, that's kotlety -- I mean, meatballs, with some green stuff. Vegetables or something. And this is...potatoes? Something fried.' The three potato croquettes, mashed potatoes mixed with minced vegetables and fried in the same crispy panko-and-egg breading used for katsudon, are still warm and topped with a little drizzle of sweet tonkatsu sauce -- a few extra made alongside an order for one of the onsen's evening guests. They're cut in half for easier eating, and it's a challenge to not take one out and devour it on the spot, but Yuri harnesses a supreme effort of willpower to close the box and return it to the basket. There are more boxes to be picked up and examined, after all. 'Some rice balls here, and something else fried...chicken, maybe? And this...oh, it's some juice boxes. Apple juice.' He can thank the pictures on the front for that. 'And some other things, but they're all the way at the bottom.'
He sits back on his heels, a little unsure of what to do now, or where to begin. Even with all the unusual things they've had today, this looks like a lot of food. Viktor might be able to eat whatever he wants these days, the lucky bastard, but how much of this will he and Katsudon actually be able to have?
no subject
In spite of his apparent disdain for the whole idea of sitting out here and eating dinner on the beach, he's very careful about how he goes through the basket itself. Instead of digging deep into it and scattering the contents around him haphazardly, he takes out the little boxes and containers one by one, pausing to open each one just enough to see what's inside -- and take a quick sniff, in case he can't identify it at first glance -- before closing it again and either returning it to the basket or stacking it close by.
(You don't waste food. You especially don't waste food that someone's taken the trouble to make for you. And whatever his opinion of Katsudon might be, Katsudon's mother made this for them.)
'So...that's soup, I guess, and there's cups for it here.' The thermos goes beside the basket, and he presses down to dig a little hollow for it so it won't tip over; the cups stay inside the basket for now, to keep the sand out of them. 'And that's...okay, that's kotlety -- I mean, meatballs, with some green stuff. Vegetables or something. And this is...potatoes? Something fried.' The three potato croquettes, mashed potatoes mixed with minced vegetables and fried in the same crispy panko-and-egg breading used for katsudon, are still warm and topped with a little drizzle of sweet tonkatsu sauce -- a few extra made alongside an order for one of the onsen's evening guests. They're cut in half for easier eating, and it's a challenge to not take one out and devour it on the spot, but Yuri harnesses a supreme effort of willpower to close the box and return it to the basket. There are more boxes to be picked up and examined, after all. 'Some rice balls here, and something else fried...chicken, maybe? And this...oh, it's some juice boxes. Apple juice.' He can thank the pictures on the front for that. 'And some other things, but they're all the way at the bottom.'
He sits back on his heels, a little unsure of what to do now, or where to begin. Even with all the unusual things they've had today, this looks like a lot of food. Viktor might be able to eat whatever he wants these days, the lucky bastard, but how much of this will he and Katsudon actually be able to have?