`today's special is veggie teriyaki! [kurt]

[MIKI ELAINE YASHIDA]

"We have one Seaweed Salad, one Miso Soup, two House Roll Specials, one Spicy Roll Special, a Kani Salid sans Tobiko, two ice teas, one 7-Up and one Diet Coke!"

The family at table three, set next to a large aquarium filled with Koi Fish, were surprised at the removal of their empty appetizer plates. MIki balanced the empty plates on one hand as she slid the two salads and the soup onto the table. The empty dishes were stacked onto a nearby trolley, allowing the girl to transfer the drinks and rolls quickly. Once done the sixteen year old adjust the golden vest she had and bowed, moving on to push the trolley into the kitchen.

"Table 3 is done and I? I am out of here!"

Miki danced a bit in her spot, pulling the small towel that hung through her belt out and swinging it along. The trolley she brought in rolled to a stop near the large sinks in the back of the kitchen where one of the workers gave her a smirk; she smiled back sweetly and began humming before moving through the crowd of cooks so as to punch out.

"Anata no tēburu o sōji shūryō shinai made." The voice rang loud and clear. The hustle and bustle that had filled the kitchen died down. Orders were hushed rather than chanted out and the waiters moved with a silence that could rival that of the dead. Many eyes glanced at the oldest man in the room, Masa Yashida, as he tasted some of the soy sauce he was making. Miki laughed lightly and leaned against one of the counters.

"But Rory can take those tables! His section is right next to mine."

The girl turned to a young man with unruly black hair and blonde highlights who was holding a stack of soup bowls. The bowls were placed on rectangular plates with hooks at the bottom edges; this allowed them to be stacked pne on top of the other. Rory looked at Mr. Yashida, who paid him no mind, and back at the sixteen year old. He balanced them in his hands and laughed at the girl's words, turning to push between the double doors.

"The rules are the same for everyone. Clean the tables, then you are done." Mr. Yashida stirred the pot of soy sauce counter-clockwise for a few moments before looking at his youngest daughter.

Miki was still leaning against the counter, her right hand held at level with her shoulder and the cloth still tightly gripped. When her father smiled, as though he were asking her to indulge him just this once, she sighed. The noise and rumble of the kitchen rose as though a cone of silence had lifted.

Miki grabbed a bottle of some cleanser made from all-natural ingredients and pushed out through the double doors. Her mother had found it important to make sure the restaurant's cleaning products were up-to-code with both local and state laws; they had switched from regular house-hold products to ones that had all-natural ingredients. They didn't want to be arrested like the manager at the local bowling alley. However, the new cleaning solutions were taking a good chunk of the revenue so, to avoid raising prices, all employee wages were cut by 15%. It had caused some mumbling and grumbling but the Asian community was pretty tight so no one quit.

The Sanpuku Restaurant was settled between a hair salon and a laundromat; they were also just across a new insurance company. They had a multitude of people checking in during the week, which gave Miki a reason to love McKinley for ten months out of the year. They helped keep the customers coming back by giving the insurance lackeys and stylist special discounts on lunch specials. It meant that the restaurant, which had five boots beside each wall, one row of four seat tables in the middle and a row of five seat tables at each side, would have enough space to accommodate all the customers.

The walls were a dark ruby with designs drawn in yellow: dragons, trees, bushes and shrines decorated the wall along with pictures of the Yashida family. It was elegant without being cliche and homely without being tacky. Miki wiped down one table, reset the condiments and reorganized the seats before moving on to the next.

At the back of the restaurant, just past all the tables, stood three podiums (all for paying the bills) and beyond them were the doors to the kitchen. In the kitchen, to the left were the stairs that lead to the second-floor offices. The layout was simple and as long as you knew that the bathrooms were to right of the podiums, everything was fine.

Even then, in the place she had grown to love as a second home for the past ten years, Miki abhorred five hour shifts. It was Saturday, it was 3:00 PM and the lunch crowed had just dissipated.

"This sucks. Sucks. Sucks!" Miki muttered under her breath.

She felt a presence near her and stood up automatically, fixing a few strands of stray hair from her face. She felt comfortable in her long-sleeved white blouse, red bow tie, golden vest, black skinny jeans and black converse. Granted she wore two pieces that weren't supposed to be allowed but her parents conceded, just for family.

"Welcome to Sanpuku! Today's special is the Vegetable Teriyaki dinner!

words--- 908 words?!
tags--- Kurt Hummel?!
notes--- ALL THE JAPANESE IS FROM A TRANSLATOR. I DO NOT KNOW JAPANESE.. ONLY SPANISH.?!
lyrics--- Lady Gaga's The Edge of Glory
credit--- Credit to Dollie

[/size][/blockquote]

[blackbirdfly]

Kurt Hummel knew that he was going to get absolutely nothing done if Blaine Anderson was going to help him "study". For past few "sessions" they've had, they did anything but just that. As much of a determined scholar Kurt truly was- even he couldn'y repress those butterfly feelings whenever Blaine was simply near him or just walked into a room. His pencil would drop, his face would appear sunny, and his posture would become impeccable, even if he was sitting in something as comfy as a beanbag chair. It was very sad- the beginning of the year and he was procrastinating, making up some compositions the day before. He didn't even have time to practice his autograph anymore. If it made any sense, he was procrastinating while he was procrastinating. For when he was up late typing away on his laptop and researching for a paper, Blaine would appear to be on Skype. They'd talk for hours on end until the sleep would encompass him and he's fall asleep face flat on the keyboard. Kurt didn't want his grades to slip- he wanted the best to show on his transcript to FIDNY even if there were no 'fashion classes' he took.

The closest thing was Theatre Tech, but he barely participated in actual shows. All he did was sort and organize the dressing rooms- it was fine with him. But he was known to stuff in his bag a few neglected frocks and fabrics that he knew they were never using for a show- only to wear it the next day and have it appear fabulous and designer-worthy. But oh Blaine. Blaine was opting to come over to "help" him once again like many times before. How exactly he could help with a book report? He didn't know... because obviously the curriculum between McKinley and Dalton were not of the same branch. Dalton was a high-class private school with cut-throat academics that sure as heck challenged the patience and focus of porcelain-skinned boy. It was all so tough that he forgot how he survived- because he would imagine that it was even harder to concentrate with Blaine in the same school. But then again, they weren't actually dating just yet. Perhaps their frienship and that lack-of saved him from failure.

As much as he wanted to give his darling boyfriend permission to come over, he had to softly decline. As his blue eyes looked at the screen- bar loading the text until it was sent, he felt a little broken inside. There were times when Blaine was like a little puppy, and reminded him of such when they wanted to hang out. The black haired Warbler would rush like a magnet to Kurt for physical contact and affection like nothing else. For a first relationship, he thought he was doing pretty well... balancing. Or maybe he was a little obsessed, enamoured with what he had in the palm of his hand. No, he couldn't in any way complain. But those grades, those grades that would follow him forever. He knew he had to set his foot down somewhere. He pocketed his phone, looking at the laptop once again, a Word Document that held a small paragraph. Reading over it once more, he highlighted the block and deleted it- it was ot up to his writing standards. Taking a break, he made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen to make some toast.

Not hearing his father walk in, he jumped in his place, suprised to see him home that early, "Hey Dad. You want some toast? Where's Mom?" He wasn't up to making anything glamorous, opening the fridge and taking out some strawberry jam.

"No thanks. She and Finn's at that Football booster's meeting." Kurt nodded, remembering that marked on the family calendar, "Hey- have you tried that Japanese place in town? I passed by and the place seemed like something you couldn't miss- they have the authentic designs at the front and everything. Maybe we'll all go out there this weekend for dinner, huh?" Burt smiled at his son, hanging his jacket over a chair.

"That sounds nice," Kurt distantly said, mind full of that essay he was supposed to write, worrying about not having enough time to produce quality work.

"Hey, what's wrong? You seem a little upset."

"I just have this essay I need to get done due in a few days. I tried getting a head start and I was not at all satisfied with what I wrote. It was scary. Like Charlie Sheen's downhill Hollywood career." Speaking of, it didn't help that he had a nightmare about said man while watching E!'s True Hollywood Story documentary one late night. It was something he vowed he would never do again.

"Aw, you'll get through it. You make really good grades, Kurt. I'm proud of ya. Just do your best. That's all that matters. I've noticed how you've been up a lot later than usual recently- must be that senior year stress cracking-down, right?" Kurt slowly nodded as his father walked over to give a comforting pat on the back, "Soon you'll be applying for college and off on your own, there's a whole world out there. You'll be off doing bigger and better things and trying out things that could either make you or break you, son. I just want you to respect yourself, respect your peers, and respect those you love in the future, you hear me?"

"Yeah, thanks dad." Those profound little speeched always kept Kurt in check. As his father made his way up the stairs, he sighed at the jar in front of him.

He didn't even get the bread out and he was still unsatisfied with his meal. He figured that he might as well go out or something to clear his head. He took a marker from one of the drawers and stuck a post-it on the fridge, writing. Out to get some snacks, be back in an hour. -Kurt He put the jam jar away, walking to the foyer and getting his Armani coat off the hanger. He felt the pocket and searched for his keys, walking out and locking the door behind him. Kurt slipped inside his car and used his iPhone to get directions to this Japanese restaurant his father spoke about and used it as a guide to find his way. It took approximately Ke$ha's "Blow" and Lea Salonga's version of "On My Own" to make it there. Going forth through the doors, he took in the great deal of interior choices lined with familial and cultural ties. He walked toward the nearest uniformed person he could find and just when he was close enough to tap her on the shoulder, she vocalized.

"This sucks. Sucks. Sucks!" He widened his eyes, surprised at the sudden response, and backed up a little. Before he could say another word, she girl was up and greeting him warmly, almost as if she was bipolar. ""Welcome to Sanpuku! Today's special is the Vegetable Teriyaki dinner!"

"Hi...." He trailed, still taken aback at her emotion change, "Wait.. don't I know you?" He queried and suddenly, his mind conjured up those faces he would pass by in the hallways at McKinley. This was the girl from the yearbook! Better late than never- he thought, because he had told Mr. Schue on incorporating his social skills to get them a better page in the Yearbook- preferably one that would make nobody even think about vandalizing with their hateful comments. "Miki... right? From yearbook?" Taking in her attire, he couldn't help but grimace in his head- how he disliked uniforms. But with those little variations against the others who worked at the dining area, he applauded her for those little traces of originality. "I'm Kurt, Kurt Hummel."

[MIKI ELAINE YASHIDA]

"Wait.. don't I know you?"

"What? Oh y-"

"Miki... right? From yearbook?"

"-eah, I know yo-

"I'm Kurt, Kurt Hummel."

"I know. It's nice to see you.

She and Kurt only shared glances and a kind 'hello' or two in the hallways. It didn't mean they were friends but they did know each other enough to realize that they weren't going to eat each other alive (unlike the 'in' crowd often tried to do at their high school). As far as Miki knew Kurt Hummel was the out-gay-kid who had a boyfriend and was part of the Glee Club. It didn't give him plus or minus points in her book but it was rather interesting since the Glee Club was always trying to bounce right of the lowest social caste.

Miki finished cleaning the table and tucked one end of the towel into the left back pocket of her jeans. The messy table was reorganized in fifteen seconds, and Miki turned her attention to her McKinley acquaintance as she pushed a chair back into place.

"So what brings you here? Heard about the new sticky-rice platter?

Truth be told, the girl wasn't so sure about the taste palette of people in Lima. Most of their more savory dishes were eaten by some of the rare but adventurous folk of the town; the teenagers were so used to their burgers, fries, pizza, mashed potatoes, steaks, and grilled chicken that they rarely came into the restaurant. Those that did usually ordered whatever they had liked the first time they stopped by. They, like their parents, were creatures of routine. Some habits were hard to get rid of it seemed. Recently, Miki's mother had suggested integrating a couple of American-like dishes and replacing certain elements with more traditional pieces. This gave birth to new, more popular dishes: grilled chicken marinated in a fusion of soy sauce and duck sauce, steak-stuffed egg rolls with leek and spinach and Imagawayaki filled with ice cream instead of custard.

The sophomore wasn't all that into those dishes, but patrons were beginning to eat them up by the pound. As long as it got her good tips, she was happy as a clam.

"You know, my shift is done in three minutes. If you give me your order I'll bring it to you after I clock out."

She was actually pretty hungry herself but figured some microwave macaroni and cheese at home would be fine. Still, she was here, and if Kurt was going to order something she could pick up food for herself. It would beat going home both hungry and tired.

words--- 365 words?!
tags--- Kurt Hummel?!
notes--- ALL THE JAPANESE IS FROM A TRANSLATOR. I DO NOT KNOW JAPANESE.. ONLY SPANISH.?!
lyrics--- Lady Gaga's The Edge of Glory
credit--- Credit to Dollie

[/size][/blockquote]

[blackbirdfly]

Kurt totally ddn't notice how he kept talking over the girl- he had gotten used to that by now. He had become real assertive and when he needed to say something, he just ran through without any pauses. You could say it was that sassy diva part of him that cared a little less about what was said back, but he still retained that generosity- leaving her until the end to collect herself. He watched her quickly assemble the untidy table back into an immaculte setting and could only wait for a few seconds in awe of how quick a change that was. And Kurt thought he was a pro at hand-eye-coordination.

"Well, no. I haven't heard about that sticky rice platter. It sounds right up my fancy. My stepbrother Finn brings me cheeseburger everytime he stops by a McDonalds or something, and I always have to remind him that I can't eat something like that or my cleanser protection will be out of sorts." Kurt rolled his eyes, "Oh, football boys... bulking up and not understanding the true harship it is to be more veggie and lighter-food healthy." Sighing, he gave a small smile at his commentary from his home. "If you must know how I found myself here, Dad drove by today and advertised your charming exterior."

Being his first time there, he was not sure what to order. Sure, he knew he was cultured enough to know the basics of Japanese cuisine, but knew that every single place held something different. He pondered in thought to what he should get, lips pursing while his finger lightly tapped on the bottom of his chin. After a couple seconds, he couldn't formulate a dish on his own and stood straighter with all the more better posture, mouth opening while his head tilted naturally to the side.

"I'm not looking for anything necesarily heavy. Probably something to keep me for the next couple of hours until Dinner rolls around." He nodded his head, but remembering that jam back home wanted something sweet or dessert-like in his system. Just then, he had it.

"Daifuku mochi?" Kurt was not entirely sure if he was pronouncing it correctly- probably because he had been swamped in French homework and translating all of Gaga's German interviews and reading them back to himself, all the more allured by different languages. He just hasn't practiced his Japanese as much- and figured that if he was going to be an international sensation someday, he'd definitely need to shape up more on things like this.

"I'll just take six. You can put them in a mini to-go box or something. I'll want to bring some home. I'm sure Mom, Dad, Finn, and Blaine would like to get cultured. We may come back some other time. This could be their ticket to sell." Kurt teased, "No pressure at all." He would wait patiently until she got back- there was still some things he wanted to discuss with her, and hoped she wouldn't be too tired or rush out too quickly.

[MIKI ELAINE YASHIDA]

"Well, no. I haven't heard about that sticky rice platter. It sounds right up my fancy. My stepbrother Finn brings me cheeseburger every time he stops by a McDonalds or something, and I always-"

Miki pulled at the towel hanging from her jeans and folded it in her hands as she listened to Kurt. It made sense to want to try something new and out of the norm. Food was a means to facilitate the sharing of cultures and the connecting to other lifestyles. Something Miki always thought people should realize was that when you found food you could eat, dinners you liked or deserts you adores, you would be much more comfortable. Hunger was constant and the body gave approximately six meal opportunities ever day to step out of the norm. If you moved, food was the best way to get acquainted with your new surroundings. She attributed that fact about life, and human behavior, to the success of the restaurant.

That and the fact that most of the dishes were made from scratch.

"I'm not looking for anything necessarily heavy. Probably something to keep me for the next couple of hours until Dinner rolls around."

"Well we do have some family packs and there's a drive-thru at the back. The pain of it is that you have to go through the back street to get to it."

Being sandwiched between two buildings didn't give them the option of a drive-thru unless they took out a good twenty feet from one side of the restaurant. That would take time, money and labor. It was much easier to create an extended room at the back and make some flyers stamped with a very detailed map.

"Daifuku mochi?"

"Think sticky-bun or bagel but it's more dough-y , I'd say. I'll get you a pack of eight and I think... Ok it's 3:15 so we should have the hour's special. Sit tight and I'll be right back."

The girl turned around, muttering the order under her breath so as to not forget. The double doors of the kitchen opened as two waitresses pushed a cart out to a table where eight people were seated. As the two placed a cake from the cart on the table and surrounding waiters began singing 'Happy Birthday' for an enthusiastic older woman, Miki ducked into the kitchen. Whistling a tune, she stopped at a wall where a punch time clock was installed. She punched quickly and placed her punched card in a nearby folder.

Making her way through the kitchen, she grabbed an empty box which was shaped like a traditional black bento box (without the inner divisions) and searched the nearby dessert cart.

"Oi! I thought you clocked out." Rory yelled at her over the hustle and bustle of the kitchen.

"Grabbing a couple of mochi to go. Could you put three veggie stir-fry tamagoyaki and two chocolate mochiss on my tab?"

[/color]

Before the man could even speak, the girl was already balancing a plate in one hand while holding a 'to-go' bag in the other. She smiled, winked and pushed through the doors of the kitchen. Passing the nearby bar, she called out to a young woman with bright pink hair.

"Hey Linds, two diet cokes please. Tab"

"Have you even made a down-payment on that tab, hun?"

"Working on it!" The woman's laughed carried all the way to the table where Miki quickly placed the plate and the bento-box like 'to-go' container.

"You have 8 daifuku mochi's in that box. Two are vegetable stuffed, two are chocolate, three are vanilla and the last three should be a type of new lemon custard we're trying out. Now I'm giving you these for $5.00 bucks and these-" Miki pushed the plate of tamagoyaki, each covered with stir-fried eggplant as well as the plate with two chocolate daifuku mochi.

"-are on the house. I'd try the tamago first. If you eat the mochi you won't want to wash away the sweet taste."

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/center]

words--- 707 words?!
tags--- Kurt Hummel?!
notes--- Food, Food, Glorious FOOOOOOOD?!
lyrics--- Lady Gaga's The Edge of Glory
credit--- Credit to Dollie

[/size][/blockquote]

[blackbirdfly]

Kurt licked his lips, smiling sweetly. Well, that sounds quite appetizing. Far better than whatever sandwich monstrocity I was about to make. He nodded his head and looked for the nearest seat, and convieniently saw a table with a chair in front of him. He dusted off the chair and sat daintily down, crossing his legs soon after, but not even bothering to sit properly in the table. Like he would find joy in constantly banging his knee on the underside of the table... which was probably the host of germs or gum like at school. This place seemed quaint, nice, homey- but he wasn't about to take any chances with these two-hundred dollar pair of pants he was recently bought. He saw a couple of extra menus on the side, and flipped through some of the protective sealed pages to prevent spills from getting on the menu, taking careful eye of the intricate and colorful pictures. He'd always wanted to visit other places, and Japan was amongst the top on his list at home.

New York was amazing- and he knew he would never forget his first ride on an airplane, but he knew that there was so much more out there for the taking, and it was all there for him to conquer. Smirking confidently to himself, he let his finger trace his fine jawline, absentmindedly flipping pages until he went to the end- only to go back to the beginning. Japan was a utopia in itself. He'd seen pictures online and numerous Gaga inerviews- what with the style and culture. It inspired him and fascinated how so much could he held in an island like that. He thought about cruising the streets, examining the little shops, in awe of how quickly he could get sucked in and never want to leave. Well, that was the impact New York left on him, why would Japan be any different? Surely Blaine would be up for that, too. Both of them, together, sightseeing and taking pictures and enjoying each other's company wholly and fully without a single thought in the world about if anyone would hate on them or schoolwork. It all sounded like a blissful vacation indeed.

He thought about ordering more just then, because Kurt's stomach growled like a hungry lion. For extra measure, he shh-ed it, looking down at his belly-area with the slightest annoyance. There was no need to draw any more attention to him, and he also found bodily noises quite embarrassing when they were in public. The porcelain skinned boy would be in a fit of never-ending blush whenever he burped. Even in the privacy of his own bedroom, he would cover his mouth, and look from side to side if he was heard- though it was quite clear that he was alone. In Blaine's presence, he would spit out the word sorry constantly, only to have his boyfriend chuckle back at him, calling his little compulsion adorable. Then, it would be his turn to shake his head in protest because burping after coffee was in no way shape or form adorable- for a baby panda, maybe. For Kurt Hummel, that was a negative. Still, his love would insist, and he would give in after a couple more compliments were thrown his way.

As he looked up from the menu he pushed aside delicately, he saw Miki making her way over- busy and a balance perfection all rolled into one. He sat up straighter, his eyes scanning all that was laid out in front of him. He tried to take it all in, but his hand already reached for the nearby fork already on the table, not wanting to fumble horribly with chopsticks in front of this native who could possibly laugh at his attempts to try. He heard her suggestion and went for a piece of the eggplant and lifted the utensil past his mouth, letting his tastebuds revel in the wonderfulness that was Japanese cuisine. His glasz eyes sparkled, making contact with his fellow school mate's.

"Thank you, you're very generous." He figured he'd just as well pay now so he wouldn't forget later.

He reached into the inside of his coat, pulling out a wallet from a pocket that had the embezzlements of purple and teal studs, alternating. It was a gift from Tina a while back from his birthday, and he appreciated the heart and mimicry of Hot Topic fashion he had yet to adopt. Pulling out the last two five dollar bills in his posession, he slid them across the table to her.

"One for you, and one for the meal. I would give a more gracious tip, but... between you and me," He leaned forward slightly, "These clothes don't buy themselves, and I doubt you want some annoying change in your pocket. I know I dislike that. It all gets so heavy." Leaning back again, he took a bite of the tamagoyaki, his stomach stopped growling, knowing it was to be even more satidfied with the passing minutes he spent sitting there to eat. "Sit, sit... " He coaxed her, taking a sip of diet coke, "This is really good. I wonder how I've never noticed or seen this place before. Way better than McDonalds, I can tell you this."

[MIKI ELAINE YASHIDA]

Miki grabbed a pair of chopsticks from Lindsey's belt as the girl placed two tall, cold glasses of diet coke at their table. Thanking her, Miki parted the joined chopsticks and grabbed a piece of mochi, which was split off the treat. The soft, doughy texture was no match for the straight edges and power of the chopsticks. A bit of chocolate mousse dripped out of the hole created by Miki's attack and squirted onto the plate. The mousse was a mix of a light batter and milk-chocolate pudding, which Miki's mother made fresh every day. It was probably the reason why the little honey-glazed dumplings were selling so quickly. The sixteen year old preferred the traditional version of the dish but the modernized take did well with her.

"Itadakimasu! She sang before eating her piece of mochi. Her right hand began guiding the chopsticks to a piece of tamagoyaki as she took a drink from her diet coke.

Popping a piece of the eggroll-like dish into her mouth, the girl covered her mouth with her hands before asking something of Kurt.

"So, any big plans for the school year?

Personally, she had been wondering if she could juggle being in Glee Club with her restaurant duties and studies. With her car it'd be fine, plus her parents were more accepting of leaving her out and about later than usual now that she could drive. Her mother would pull the reigns and remind her she only had the license for three months every once in a while though. Getting her license hadn't been much of a pain, and driving in Lima was easy as pie as long as you didn't run into stupid jocks on the road. The real headache had been the learning. Especially with the woman who gave birth to her screaming for her to slow down if she hit 36 miles per hour.

A couple of waiters with another birthday cake passed by, singing heartily and clapping her hands. As a good faith gesture, Miki clapped along but kept her attention on her current companion.

"So, do you guys have room for people or is there like a limit?"

The Warblers had been a group of twenty-something guys, New Directions always had between twelve to thirteen members so she wasn't sure if there were restrictions according to districts.

words--- 335 words?!
tags--- Kurt Hummel?!
notes--- THIS POST IS DOGGY POOP.?!
lyrics--- Lady Gaga's The Edge of Glory
credit--- Credit to Dollie

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[blackbirdfly]

Kurt had absolutely no idea what Miki had said, but nodded his head with a smile back. This food was truly delicious, and he was very content in sitting there just basking in how his tastebuds were feeling rejuvinated and his stomach practically dance for joy in the great cuisine. He thought about him and Blaine having a date here possibly next time around, huddled at their own table, enamoured into the looks of the other’s eyes, full of love and slight obsession. Kurt could swaer that he could spend hours just memorizing every single detail of his boyfriend’s face. Coupled with the slightly dimmed lighting, it could be a romantic atmosphere. He saw Miki’s skillful hands work and manipulate the food in her chopstick, more deep respect to give. He was more of a twirler, always spinning utensils between his fingers with ease- one of his biggest accomplishments a whisk when he was cooking. He was sure that he was adequate enough, but clearly not as good as hers.

”Big plans mostly consist of Glee and working our way up to Nationals again this year. I can’t wait to see New York again. I’ve carefully compiled a list of shows playing during the time we would spend there- well, I can’t get all of the credit. Rachel helped. We had a sleepover last week to prepare complete with outfits that would not only fit the theme of our shows, but would be aesthetically pleasing to the eyes.” Kurt let out a giggle, it was kind of ridiculous being so advanced when they had Regionals and Sectionals to worry about- but he was quite confident in their status.

They had been on an uphill climb since he and the other joined Glee Club- it only seemed like fate that they would take Nationals by storm... that is, if they weren’t squashed by other equally supreme clubs on their way. He wondered how things were going to turn out, especially in accordance of going against Dalton again this year- which had a huge potential of happening again. He was not one to take things easy on another team, regardless of his romantic status. He and his boyfriend had talked about this before, teasing about “may the best group win”. And they left it at that.

”Aside from Glee, obviously we need to have a lot of work done. I plan to apply to the Fashion Institute or Parsons- again, up in New York, I can’t get enough of that wonderful place.” He let his fingers grace the rim of his Diet Coke, ”It seems just like yesterday I was a lost freshman who didn’t know where the heck his World Geography class was. And now I’m a senior. Finn might go to the State University- I’m sure he’s wary to leave home since he- well, we can’t get enough of Mom’s cooking...” He had long since begun to refer to Carole as “Mom”, ”..It’s just all so complicated since Rachel and I have mutually thought about living our dreams at the Big Apple.”

Quite frankly, he was quite suprised with how much he had opened up to this person he only knew by name and face and text in the publicity group at their school. Maybe food really was the catalyst that caused a human to unwind. No wonder dates were usually taken at restaurants. He was sure that maybe there was some deep psychological reasoning for it- but didn’t care too much to delve at the moment. He raised his hands to clap politely along, eye glazing over the cake and humming the melody for a couple of seconds. He went in for another eggplant filled bite, dabbing at the sides of his lips to make sure that his chaptick wouldn’t pick up any of the stray pieces and what not.

”Mr. Schue is always open to people who are interested to audition. I’m not sure what the grand limit is, but I know that compared to other Glee Clubs, we don’t have as many people. Mr. Schue started us all out straddling the bare minimum of how many people was needed to compete. With Sunshine auditioning last year and with us gaining Sam, I’m sure there are more spots left. If you’re interested, we’d welcome you with open arms.” Kurt paused, ”Unless this is some kind of joke, because being slushied everyday is barely tolerable to begin with. Your life will change. The treatment I’ve received in the beginning was bad to begin with, but I’ve traded some dumpster baths with cornstarch and food coloring. Not much of an upgrade, but... “ He trailed off, assuming that the girl in front of him could finish the sentence.

[MIKI ELAINE YASHIDA]

"Maybe I should go to New York too."

Miki munched on her second piece of chocolate mochi and listened to Kurt muse about the club's activities. They'd certainly need new members if they were going to try and get in on the Top 10 finalists. At least they weren't that far off. Their small 12th place trophy was sitting in a case just outside the choir room. The girl felt a bit glad that it hadn't been vandalized (yet) and while the trophy was small, and almost certainly made of some cheap metal mix, it still had a bit of a glimmer to it. She hadn't taken pictures of it yet though.

"-We had a sleepover last week to prepare complete with outfits that would not only fit the theme of our shows, but would be aesthetically pleasing to the eyes." Kurt said.

"So it's like a consensus? Everyone chooses whatever proposed costume is the best?" Miki took a long gulp of her soda before piercing a piece of tamagoyaki with her chopsticks. "Wouldn't that be hard? I mean everyone has their own sense of style..."

As she said this she reached for the money on the table and held it up. Her father had taught her, as well as her elder siblings, the art of making sure you were never stiffed of your bill. She couldn't count the times she'd been handed fake $20 bills or bills old enough to be mistaken for counterfeit. You'd think that, in a small town like Lima, the criminality would be low. She hid the bills in her belt before leaning back in her chair slightly.

"I still have Advanced Calculus work. I need to cut back on the hours."

If she did she'd have to take the bus since her car wasn't going to feed itself gasoline for free.

”..It’s just all so complicated since Rachel and I have mutually thought about living our dreams at the Big Apple.”

"New York, New York. Isn't aiming a bit high while right off the edge, though? Have you ever been anywhere else but there? It'd be better to get used to other big cities like Chicago or Seattle and then try New York."

The only big city she'd ever been to (besides Kyoto and Tokyo during summer trips) was Sacramento, California. To Miki, being a photographer meant eventually making the pilgrimage to the big N.Y.C but she was very much intimidated. She blamed it on her small-town uprising. It didn't matter that her parents were tough and made sure to have her develop a tough skin of her own. New York was a city. It was blocks and blocks and blocks of cement buildings and skyscrapers. You could disappear, be lost in it forever and no one, aside from family, would give a hoot.

”Unless this is some kind of joke, because being 'slushied' everyday is barely tolerable to begin with. Your life will change. The treatment I’ve received in the beginning was bad to begin with, but I’ve traded some dumpster baths with cornstarch and food coloring. Not much of an upgrade, but... “

"Thank you for the vote of confidence. I realize that it's hard to trust new people but rest assured..." Her chopsticks thudded loudly against the plate where the last piece of mochi rested. It quickly disappeared and into her mouth. The girl smiled slightly.

"... A lady always knows how to take care of herself."

words--- 612 words?!
tags--- Kurt Hummel?!
notes--- ALL THE JAPANESE IS FROM A TRANSLATOR. I DO NOT KNOW JAPANESE.. ONLY SPANISH.?!
lyrics--- Lady Gaga's The Edge of Glory
credit--- Credit to Dollie

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