Chapter Text
Elliot was always happy to lend a helping hand. In fact, ever since they got here, he's the one cooking most of the meals around here—except for the occasional fried chicken dinner whipped up by Shedletsky, or Noob’s experimental food concoctions that somehow always tasted amazing, despite looking... otherwise.
Meal times were Elliot’s favorite part of the day. Seeing the laughter, the chatter, the way everyone’s faces lit up with warmth whenever food was served—it filled him with a quiet kind of joy. You could call it a sense of purpose—it felt like he had a place to belong.
Well… everyone except for one.
Two Time.
They always joined for meal times, sitting at the table with the rest of them—their hands folded neatly, their posture still, eyes quietly scanning the room, always keeping to themselves. Recently, Elliot had started to notice they hardly ever touched their food. They never looked unhappy, just… distant. Like they feel a little out of place.
And today?
Today, Elliot was going to figure out why.
He was on his way to their room, a small towel slung over his shoulder and sleeves still dusted with flour from baking earlier, when he passed by the kitchen—and paused mid-step. Someone was rustling through the cabinets. He tilted his head, curious, and walked quietly toward the sound.
He peeks into the kitchen, before freezing in his tracks.
There, hunched over the counter was a figure. Pale hands clutched a small packet, their face ghost-white… no, dusted with something white.
And they were eating it. Straight out of the bag.
“…What the—?”
The figure spun around, startled. A thin trail of powder wafted through the air.
“Two Time…?” Elliot blinked in disbelief. “What are you—?”
He rushed forward, nearly slipping on the ground in his haste. Two Time backed away slightly, clutching the packet protectively.
Elliot reached for it, but the bag slipped and burst slightly, showering his shirt in fine white powder. He grimaced, brushing it off with one hand, then dipped a finger into the remnants and tasted it with a cautious sniff.
“…Rice flour?”
Two Time stood frozen, their expression unreadable beneath the dust. They turned away, averting their eyes from him. “…Apologies,” they muttered. “I was… hungry.”
Right on cue, a low growl came from their stomach, embarrassingly loud in the quiet kitchen. They made a move to retrieve the packet again, but Elliot gently placed a hand over theirs, stopping them.
“I don’t think you should be eating that, Two Time.” His brow furrowed, concern growing in his voice. “If you’re hungry, why don’t you eat during mealtimes?”
Two Time froze. Their shoulders slumped as they slowly withdrew their hand from the packet. Shame flickered in their eyes—and they seemed almost afraid to admit the truth.
“I… can’t handle greasy food,” they said softly. Their voice was low, almost apologetic. They lowered their head, avoiding his gaze as they rubbed at their flour-covered palms. “I’m not used to it.”
Elliot’s expression softened. He gave a quiet nod, then grabbed a cloth and started wiping up the mess on the counter, his movements slow and thoughtful. “What kind of food are you used to eating, then?” he asked, his words gentle—he wasn't judging them, he was just... curious.
Two Time hesitated for a moment, before answering, “Not much. Plants, fruits, wild animals, sometimes… But never anything like this.”
Their voice faltered, and they peeked at Elliot, finally meeting his gaze. “I truly am grateful for your pizza, though! It’s just… The issue lies with me."
Elliot quickly folded up the flour-stained towel and tossed it besides the sink—he'll wash it later. He approached them again, this time with a kind smile on his face.
“Don’t say that, Two Time. I’m sorry—I should’ve asked you sooner.” His voice remains gentle, as he places a reassuring hand on their shoulder. “How about I make something else for you? Something you can actually enjoy.”
Two Time blinked. Their eyes widened slightly, as if they couldn’t quite believe what he said. A glimmer of surprise mixed with something softer—hope.
“Oh—I don’t mean to inconvenience you!”
But Elliot was already moving. He donned on his apron with practiced ease, and rolled up his sleeves with determination. “Don’t worry about it,” he exclaims with a grin. “It’s almost time for dinner anyway!”
He turned his back slightly, holding out the apron strings. “Could you help me tie the back, please?”
“…Alright.” Two Time murmurs, before nodding quickly. They stepped forward, brushing the excess flour off their hands against their pants before tying the apron neatly into a crisp, tidy bow.
“Thanks!” Elliot glanced over his shoulder with a grateful smile. “Now, let’s get started. What fruit do you like?”
Two Time tilted their head, thinking, their fingers tapping against their chin.
“Hmm… Strawberries.”
“Strawberries it is! Could you grab them from the fridge for me?”
They moved across the kitchen with surprisingly quick steps, opening the fridge with careful hands. A moment later, they returned, presenting the box of strawberries to Elliot.
“Perfect! Now, the red bean paste, please?”
Two Time handed it over, their posture slowly relaxing, the tension in their shoulders beginning to ease.
“And finally, the flour…” Elliot gave a soft chuckle as he opened a fresh bag and began to work.
He scooped the rice flour into a bowl, humming softly, mixing it with sugar and water until the batter was smooth. Then, he continued to stir constantly until it thickened into a sticky dough. Two Time stood nearby, eyes wide and curious, watching Elliot's every step like it was magic.
Elliot dusted his hands and flattened small rounds of the warm dough onto the floured counter. One by one, he tucked a whole strawberry and a spoonful of sweet red bean paste into each piece, folding the edges carefully, sealing them into perfect, soft little spheres.
“It’s almost ready,” Elliot said, dusting the last one and placing it neatly on a plate. “Just give me a moment.”
He paused, glancing over his shoulder. “So… why rice flour? Of all things?”
Two Time shifted awkwardly. Their gaze dropped to the floor. “I wasn’t sure what else was safe to consume…” they murmured. Their hands fidgeted with the hem of their shirt. “I don’t really… know how to read.”
Elliot froze.
“…Wait—what?”
Two Time nodded slowly, their voice becoming increasingly softer by the second. "I can't read, or write... I didn't understand the labels, and I didn’t want to eat something dangerous by mistake.”
Elliot set down the spoon in his hand. His expression was soft—no pity, just quiet understanding. “I’ll teach you then,” he said. “How to read, how to write—everything."
“…You will?” Two Time’s voice cracked with disbelief.
“Of course.” He smiled gently. “Anything for a friend.”
There was a moment of silence before Two Time moved forward and wrapped their arms around him, flour and all. The hug was tight, the embrace full of unspoken emotion—gratitude.
Elliot stiffened for a second, startled—then relaxed, a chuckle escaping him as he returned the hug.
“Careful—I’ve still got flour all over me.”
“I don’t mind,” Two Time sniffled into his shirt. “I’m just… really thankful.”
Elliot patted their back lightly, his voice warm. “I'm always happy to help! I hope you'll enjoy this..."
He pulled away slightly, nodding toward the counter.
“Here. Strawberry daifuku.”
Two Time picked up one, handling it carefully like it might fall apart. “It looks… interesting,” they said, then smiled faintly. “But I’m certain anything you make is delicious.”
They took a cautious bite.
And their eyes went wide.
Without another word, they devoured the rest and immediately grabbed a second, the powdered surface smudging their fingers.
“I take it you like it, yeah?” Elliot asked, laughing.
Two Time nodded rapidly, cheeks puffed out as they chewed, eyes sparkling.
Elliot leaned against the counter, watching them eat with a warm smile.
“Maybe I should make some more for the others…” he mumbled thoughtfully.
When Two Time finally finished, they wiped their mouth with the back of their hand and stood up straighter.
“I shall pray for you tonight, dear Elliot,” they murmured with solemn reverence. “The Spawn is satisfied with your kindness.”
They patted their belly, satisfied. A cheeky smile curls at the corner of their lips.
“…And so is my stomach.”
Elliot laughed, his voice full and bright. He was glad they were happy.
All that extra effort was worth it—just to see them smile.