[ Pulling away from her back, Nishitani leans against the counter, looking over the package she's left, gaze lingering for a couple of seconds before flashing back to her. He's no less threatening, but his aura pulls back, that pink energy that slipped from his pores diluting, a figment of imagination. ] There's rice and everything. These shitty kids didn't have fuck for miso soup, so here we are. Go on, Em-chan, Majima and I already ate our fill.