There were too many things getting mixed together: the soapy suds in the water, the sauces and other remnants of dinner, the good plates Isis only uses for company, the thoughts in Malik's head. Everything bounced together in a way that made Malik want to take a step back from it all.
But he couldn't. Not when washing dishes was his assigned chore for the night.
The kitchen is filled only with the sound the water sloshing around the sink and the plates clinking together whenever another dry one is added to the pile. Ryou doesn't say anything as he stands nearby drying each dish, a task he'd volunteered for despite being a guest in their house.
The dinner hadn't been as awkward as Malik had expected. Ryou was soft-spoken but not quiet. He kept the conversation going, mostly with Isis, without needing any prompting. Malik's memories of Battle City were spotty at times, and his memories of Ryou were blended with memories of the Thief. He had imagined Ryou a lot more timid than he seemed tonight.
Or maybe he'd just changed since the Thief was gone now.
Ryou decides to break the silence.
"What do you do for fun around here?"
orangegreenlove, I choose you