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Lyra groaned softly as a pair of strong arms lifted her from behind, careful yet insistent. Her legs kicked half-heartedly as she was carried through the battered double doors of the Baratie.
"I can walk, you know..." she muttered, though her voice lacked any real conviction.
The dining hall greeted her in eerie silence, its once-lively warmth replaced by an unsettling stillness that seemed to hang in the air like smoke after a fire. Moonlight streamed through a massive hole in the far wall, casting everything in cold, silvery light. The jagged edges of the hole gave a glimpse of the sea beyond, its waves crashing softly in the distance, a stark contrast to the room's quiet chaos.
Chairs lay overturned, their frames cracked. Tables were scorched, dented, or missing entirely. The floorboards were cracked and streaked with dried blood, remnants of the battle that had taken place here. A faint scent of smoke lingered in the air, especially near the bar, where the scorch marks seemed to speak of a near tragedy.
Lyra's smile wavered as she looked around. The silence wasn't empty—it felt reverent, like the world was holding its breath after a scream.
She squinted at the hole in the wall and forced a small laugh. "Well... I'd say I did a fantastic job improving the ventilation," she joked, trying to inject lightness into her words. "Really opens up the room. Great moonlight. Very atmospheric. You're welcome."
Behind the counter, Zeff paused mid-wipe, staring at her with a look so dry it could have evaporated the ocean. No anger, no amusement—just a quiet, calculating judgment.
Lyra caught the look and quickly averted her gaze, her lips twitching into a sheepish smile. "Tough crowd."
The chefs carried her further into the hall, their boots crunching over stray debris, the moonlight casting long, shifting shadows across the wreckage. Her gaze swept the room once more—toppled chairs, scorched beams, streaks of dried blood.
They placed her gently at the nearest table that hadn't been completely destroyed. One of the chefs patted her head with a soft smile before wandering off, leaving her in the hushed aftermath of the chaos.
Lyra's fingers traced the edge of a splintered table. The worn wood felt familiar, yet strange. She hadn't been here long,only two days,but something in her chest ached, like she was standing in the remnants of a home after a storm had passed.
"I was only supposed to be passing through," she murmured to herself, her voice quiet. "And yet... this place already feels like home."
From the kitchen, she heard faint laughter, the clatter of pans, and a few heated debates over spices. The chefs were loud, temperamental, but they were kind when it mattered.
Her fingers tightened on the table as she glanced toward the shattered window. The sea breeze ruffled her hair, and she sighed, the weight of the thought settling in.
"I'm probably leaving tomorrow, huh…"
The idea stung more than she expected. It was strange how quickly she had grown attached to this place, these people.
And then, as if summoned by the shift in the air, Zeff's voice called from behind her.
"So, what do you want to eat, kid?"
Lyra placed a hand dramatically to her chin, pretending to deliberate. "Hmm… what do you cook the best?"
Zeff raised an eyebrow. "Everything I cook is the best."
She squinted at him, unimpressed. "Of course you'd say that. Fine, I want fish and chips."
"We're outta potatoes."
Lyra blinked. "Okay… just the fish then?"
"No chicken either."
She turned slowly, her expression deadpan. Then, with exaggerated grace, she pointed at the sea beyond the hole in the wall.
"There's plenty of fish out there," she declared with a flourish.
Zeff followed her gaze, unimpressed. "You catch it, I'll cook it."
Lyra's arm drooped. She sighed, then flopped dramatically back onto the table, burying her face in her arms. "Ugh. Nevermind. I'm lazy today."
"You're always lazy," Zeff muttered, turning back to the kitchen.
"Hey!" Lyra called after him, her voice muffled in her sleeve. "This is strategic conservation of energy!"
The chefs snickered as they passed by, one of them setting a glass of water on her table like a peace offering to an unreasonable customer.
Zeff didn't look back. "I'll make you something good. Try not to fall asleep while I'm cooking or I'll feed it to the seagulls."
Lyra lifted her head just enough to give a tired, content grin. "No promises."
She watched him disappear into the kitchen, and for a moment, the lightness of the air returned. The silence that hung between the kitchen and the dining room wasn't oppressive anymore.
The kitchen hummed with energy. The rhythmic clink of pans, the low hiss of oil, the soft scrape of knives on cutting boards—it was comforting in its familiarity. Lyra heard zeff shouting something at the chefs however she couldn't hear clearly.
She decided to do the thing any adult would do in this situation and tip toed towards the kitchen and held her ear against the worn out kitchen door.
"We've gotta do our best tonight," Zeff's voice rumbled, quieter than usual, his hands steady as he stirred a thick sauce. "I want her to eat so damn well she'll never wanna leave."
The kitchen fell silent for a heartbeat, and then someone chuckled. Another added, "Aye, Boss."
"We'll make it the best damn meal she's ever had," came a third voice, lighter but with an edge of determination.
Lyra blinked, lips parting slightly. She hadn't expected that. Not from Zeff.
Then, as if to break the tension, someone dropped a spoon with a clatter. She jumped and instinctively leaned in farther, trying to catch a glimpse. The kitchen door creaked open under her hand, and with a soft tumble, she stumbled right into the kitchen.
Zeff turned, a slow glare on his face. "Eavesdropping, little missy?"
Lyra froze, then blinked innocently as she got to her feet. "Nooo," she chirped. "Just performing an emergency food safety inspection!"
The kitchen paused for half a beat.
Then, one of the chefs stifled a laugh, another giggled. Even Zeff's expression softened before he groaned and rubbed his temples.
"You're lucky you've got a cute face and no sense of shame," he muttered.
Lyra struck a dramatic pose. "I'll take that as a compliment!"
Zeff picked up a ladle, his eyes narrowing.
Lyra's eyes widened. "You wouldn't."
And with that, the ladle flew.
She shrieked and ducked, narrowly missing it as it clattered off the doorframe.
"You missed!" she called, darting back toward the dining hall.
"Wasn't aiming for you!" Zeff shouted after her.
The kitchen quickly resumed its rhythm, but the air was lighter now, filled with laughter instead of tension.
Lyra slumped back at the table, grinning ear to ear, and began tapping her fingers in rhythmic boredom.
She debated sneaking another peek into the kitchen,just a little one. But Zeff might actually throw a knife next time, and while she liked to think her dodging skills were top-tier, there was always that one unlucky day. So, instead, she stayed put, sighing loudly for dramatic effect.
She didn't have to wait long.
The kitchen doors swung open, and out stomped Zeff, a steaming plate balanced in his calloused hands. Behind him, a small squad of chefs followed, each carrying dishes with the solemnity of knights presenting an offering to royalty.
Without a word, Zeff set the main plate down in front of her with a grunt. The others followed, laying down side dishes with careful precision.What appeared in front of Lyra was a perfectly seared chicken, vibrant greens, and something golden and crispy that she assumed was an improvised potato substitute.
"Here," Zeff muttered, already turning to leave.
The chefs trailed after him, quick and quiet, but Lyra caught it—the way their eyes lingered, not on the food, but on her.
She blinked, then grinned wide and wicked. "They're such tsunderes," she muttered under her breath, poking at a crispy piece with exaggerated elegance. "Gruff on the outside, all mushy inside."
Lyra chuckled and picked up her fork. The kitchen waited in tense silence as she raised a piece of golden, crispy chicken to her mouth.
Chew. Chew. Silence.
Her expression didn't change. Just... neutral.
One of the younger chefs visibly gulped.
"She's... she's not enjoying it?" whispered another.
Zeff's jaw ticked. "Tch. Damn missy's doing this on purpose."
Lyra remained still. Then , the spoon clattered to the table.
Her chair scraped back. She stood up, hand trembling, the other gripping her chest.
"...It's..." she whispered, before throwing her arms wide.
"...IT'S A FLAVOR EXPLOSION!"
She pointed at Zeff like an anime heroine, her voice booming. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, OLD MAN?! THIS ISN'T FOOD—IT'S A SPIRITUAL EXPERIENCE! HOW CAN A MERE MORTAL MAKE SUCH FOOD?!"
She dropped to her knees, raising her hands to the sky. "I HAVE TRANSCENDED!"
The kitchen went still.
A burly chef dropped his ladle. "Is she okay?"
"No," Zeff muttered, rubbing his temples. "She's worse than Sanji."
Lyra didn't stop. She twirled, clutching her chest, as if embodying a shoujo heroine saved by food.
"This chicken! It's so crisp, so tender, so lovingly balanced, it's like a shounen power-up arc in my mouth!"
She slammed her hands onto the table. "THIS IS MY FINAL FORM!"
One chef collapsed in laughter. Another started clapping.
Zeff turned sharply. "Stop encouraging her, idiots!"
"But Boss," one of the chefs giggled, "she called your cooking a flavour explosion. That's the best review we've ever gotten!"
Lyra lay on the floor, clutching a napkin as though it were a sacred artifact. "Zeff," she said solemnly, "I need you to understand something."
"What now?"
"I'd marry this food if I could. I'm not even kidding. This chicken is the perfect lover material."
The kitchen erupted in laughter. Even Zeff's lips twitched before he turned away with a grunt.
"More?" he asked over his shoulder.
Lyra raised a single hand from the floor, still sprawled dramatically.
"…Yes. Please."
The chefs burst into even more laughter, one of them saluting her like a general in war.
As they returned to the kitchen, Zeff glanced back just once.
He didn't say anything.
But the smile on his face made the food taste even better.
*Authors notes*
I got some critism about slowing down the pace, build up relations and making more breathing room for the characters so I tried doing it in this chapter I don't know if I did well but I tried hahaha .
Sorry for the delay in updates I'm settling into university dorms so I'm having a little trouble keeping constituent at the moment but I'm not giving up °^° thanks for reading as always