Furina: *eats more* I like it.

Arle: *laughs* You don't have to be polite, Droplet.

Furina: I'm not lying. I like it because it's something you love, and you shared it with me.

Arle: *takes Furina's hand* Thank you... Sincerely.

Furina: *smiles* I like making my fiance happy.

Arle: It was a great victory for me when I first made it, even with its humble appearance. Raw meat because there wasn't a fire. No seasoning because I couldn't afford it. Poorly mimicking the dishes I saw through windows of fine restaurants. It was still the most delicious thing I've ever tasted.

Arle: Life was difficult for a young orphan. My... mother barely kept the hearth warm, much less fed us every day. We had to scrounge for ourselves. *points to the tartare*
This was the only thing I could reliably fill my stomach with.

Furina: *eats a bite* It's not... overly flavorful.

Arle: No, it's not meant to be. At least not my version.

Furina: *curiously* Why not?

Arle: This is another one of those stories that will make you sad.

Furina: *takes her hand* I want to know.

The following night, there is no feast. Arle puts only a small plate in front of Furina. It's a simple steak tartare: raw beef on a bed of onions and a slice of bread. A rich red sauce is drizzled across the top, but otherwise there is no seasoning-

Furina: Are you happy with the stuff you cook? What's your favorite food anyways?

Arle: My favorite? *looks distant* It's... not anything special.

Furina: I don't believe that. Tomorrow, would you cook it for me?

Arle: *hesitant* ...I can.