[For all the diversity in Monika's efforts to catch up on every experience and taste when it came to food, Kisuke had begun to realize that telling her what his favorite food was almost seemed like a tragic waste of centuries of experience. Umeboshi onigiri--for all the comfort it gave him on a rough day, it was just adjacent to natto when it came to being basic and old-fashioned, wasn't it?

Perhaps he was overthinking dinner, as he did with everything else. The crease of his smile seemed to relax somewhat with Monika's growing confidence, feeling each little bump of her shoulder against his and the way she made every effort to be in his space, right up to the point that he took her wrist in his hand with a gentle hint of possessiveness as if to allow her that chance to gloat, to herself or however, she preferred. While he wished he should share her genuine enthusiasm for anything in the world, there were simply too many things hanging on him to let him bask in what was otherwise a moment of pure fondness and admiration for her.]

It's very cute, certainly, and I haven't had Italian in a while. After the Udon festival, you kind of rethink carbs, right? [Not to mention a logistical nightmare. Dissecting something meant to be light-hearted and cute was simply par for course when it came to Kisuke as he imagined he'd have to devise an attracting element to the one noodle of spaghetti they'd want to use. Would it be better to use some sort of compound to bind each noodle with its own reactive frequency so that the second person to pick up their fork would--]

Still... How accurate would you like it to be?