Once in the safety of the kitchen, Akako leaned against the counter, gasping as he tried to catch his breath. Just who in the world was this stranger? And why did he seem to have it out for Kami? As a matter of fact, how did he seem to know who Kami was in the first place? Akako was certain that, much like himself, Kami had spent the entirety of his life here in Mystorica. So how was it that this stranger appeared not only to know of him, but also seemed intent to hunt Kami down as well? And then-

More questions attempted to crowd his mind, but Akako shook his head sharply, dispelling them. Now wasn’t the moment to spiral. Hanako had brought them precious time, and it would all go to waste if Akako dared falter now.

With the last sigh, Akako pulled a worn cookbook from the nearby shelf and began thumbing through its used pages.

“Something with beer or wine,” Akako mumbled to himself as he drifted through the pages. For an instant, his mind wandered towards the possibility of slipping something into the dish that would… Er, incapacitate their dangerous guest for the foreseeable future, but Akako had ultimately decided against it after several more moments of deliberate thought. Despite their current guest’s rugged and unrefined appearance, Akako could still pick up the faint traces of cunning and sharpness in the stranger’s eyes that suggested he would notice immediately should there be any hints of trickery or foul play involved. No, it was best not to risk it and play everything safe until more help could arrive.

“Hm… Nope. Nah. Maybe- Ugh, no,” Akako muttered aloud as he flipped past recipe after recipe. Although Akako did not know much regarding their current visitor, he did, nonetheless, recall the faint accent in the stranger’s speech, which Akako determined to be from the Southern reaches of Eternless. Southerners leaned towards bold flavors. Hearty meals that were often considered to be less impressive or sophisticated, but warm, rich and sustaining nonetheless, and Akako’s brows furrow only tightened as he searched page after page for anything that might fit the bill for this preference.

Finally, Akako’s eyes landed upon a dish, and his lips curved into a small smirk. Wine-braised hare glazed with mushroom cream sauce! Yes, that would do just fine. Without further ado, Akako set his cookbook to the side, propped up on a stand for easy reference, then reached up to retrieve a bottle of red berry wine from the top shelf as he set to work. The fire roared to life beneath his pan as the hare, seasoned generously with various herbs and spices, were seared until each side reflected a deep, crispy brown. Carrots, potatoes, and celery were tossed along several cloves of garlic into another pot, left to bubble until softened and aromatic. While the vegetables simmered, Akako worked swiftly on the sauce; Mushrooms and onions, chopped and sauteed in butter, enriched with a splash of broth and milk until velvety. When the hare was finally braised in wine and the dizzying scent had filled the kitchen with warmth and richness, Akako finally plated it carefully with a hefty serving of vegetables, and finished it off with a glossy drizzle of the mushroom cream sauce.

Once he was finished, Akako took a step back, and swiped the sweat from his brows, before allowing himself a single, proud nod as he admired his own handiwork, “It’ll have to do.”

Gingerly, Akako picked the dish up and carried it back onto the tavern floor, his heart lifted with slight relief at the sight of Hanako and the stranger still engaging in what appeared to be polite, if tense, conversation.

“Here you go, sir!” Akako announced brightly, setting the steaming plate down before the guest, “Wind-braised hare glazed with mushroom cream sauce! I do hope it’s to your liking!”

For a brief moment, the stranger regarded the plate with silent scrutiny, his gaze sharp and assessing. Then, silently, he picked his fork up and tested the hare, watching as the tender meat parted easily. Finally, slowly and deliberately, he brought the bite to his lips, sniffing once before eating.

Akako held his breath, while Hanako’s composure faltered for just a split second as they waited.

Eventually, the stranger’s lips curled into a faint smirk.

“Finally,” He muttered, voice low and laced with a hint of giddy satisfaction, “Some good fucking food.”

Akako’s shoulders sag as he exhaled audibly in relief, while Hanako’s expression, even if at slightly less noticeable degree, mirrored Akako’s own in response. The tension that had been about to spill over finally eased as the stranger dug into his meal with renewed hunger, fork clinking noisily onto his plate as he began to devour his meal, bite after ravenous bite.