[The way Makoto looked as he held that bowl, she's pretty sure that it would all end with him being upset, no matter which route she picked. She could compliment him for trying (and it's true, he worked very hard), and it would still have the same level of guilt as if she criticised him. Either way, there was no getting out of this.
So she just went for broke.
It wasn't entirely terrible, for the level of terror she was expecting. She wouldn't even be surprised if it tried to bubble menacingly, but all she tasted was cake batter. It was some parts too sweet, a bit too much egg here, and there was a clump of unmixed sugar trying to make its way down her throat. But all the ingredients were normal ones. There were mistakes made, yes, techniques that need to be refined, but it's not going to kill her if the ingredients used were all exactly the same.
But she was silent because she was: A. Figuring that all out; B. It still tasted like death.
Not that she could actually tell Makoto any of that because he has been effectively distracted by her well-being. She's surprised by his sudden actions; taking her hand, taking her shoulders, and his expression looking scared and helpless, like she's about to pass on to the next world. Not that she can, she's going to be here a very long time.]
I am fine, Makoto. [She brings up her hands, still baffled by how he's already accepted that his cake batter was going to lead to someone's suffering , and crosses her arm over her body so she can hold his hand.] I won't get sick. It is not something that you will get sick over. [EVEN IF IT TASTES LIKE SIN.]
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So she just went for broke.
It wasn't entirely terrible, for the level of terror she was expecting. She wouldn't even be surprised if it tried to bubble menacingly, but all she tasted was cake batter. It was some parts too sweet, a bit too much egg here, and there was a clump of unmixed sugar trying to make its way down her throat. But all the ingredients were normal ones. There were mistakes made, yes, techniques that need to be refined, but it's not going to kill her if the ingredients used were all exactly the same.
But she was silent because she was: A. Figuring that all out; B. It still tasted like death.
Not that she could actually tell Makoto any of that because he has been effectively distracted by her well-being. She's surprised by his sudden actions; taking her hand, taking her shoulders, and his expression looking scared and helpless, like she's about to pass on to the next world. Not that she can, she's going to be here a very long time.]
I am fine, Makoto. [She brings up her hands, still baffled by how he's already accepted that his cake batter was going to lead to someone's suffering , and crosses her arm over her body so she can hold his hand.] I won't get sick. It is not something that you will get sick over. [EVEN IF IT TASTES LIKE SIN.]