[ It gives him pause for just a moment; how long has it been since Eren got to do something as simple as enjoy a meal? He'll never know. Neither of them will. It may not feel like much, but it is. These simple things that he can do for Eren matter. They must.

And simple might truly be best. The machiya came wonderfully equipped, just as it would have been back home; there is always warm rice in the rice cooker, always leftover miso soup that can be reheated. Maruki pulls the pot out of the fridge, sets it on the stove and continues rooting around the kitchen for more as he speaks, his tone light. ]

One day, I'm going to ask someone that question and they're going to say to me, "actually, Maruki-sensei, yes! I have a whole menu to request from you, and I want it cooked exactly to my preferences. Chop chop, chef." But until then, you're all infuriatingly easy to feed.

[ He glances up, smiling wryly. ]

I'm only teasing.

[ Eren never laughed before, and he absolutely won't now, but it doesn't matter. It never made Maruki treat him any differently. With the people he cares for, he's affectionate and sarcastic in equal measure. ]