What It Means To Be King

Chapter 53: The Choice of What To Do With The Present

"What's this I hear about manju?" Shintarou raised a brow at the unsuspecting Leo, who had his attention solely focused on his sketchpad. Upon a closer look, Shintarou was able to make out the fine sketch of a human skeleton, with boldened lines of what he believed to be the lymphatic system. The tip of the pen — guy literally used a pen to sketch human diagram — faltered barely one second before scribbling away on the paper. 

From the corner of his eyes, Gion watched the interaction with feigned disinterest. He had heard about Leo's exceptional achievements in the medical field, and had once won a Nobel Prize at the age of 16. While Shintarou had yet to prove himself worthy, Gion didn't think that the Japanese prince was any different from the other, in terms of their thoughts on science. He wondered sometimes what two science geeks would talk about in one conversation, if they weren't clearly brimming with animosity towards each other. 

"Mantou, not Manju." Leo's face remains the typical smiling face, one that Gion suspected had been under the influence of Shao Long. 

"Isn't that the same thing?" Shintarou narrowed his eyes. 

"For someone quite proud of their culture, Prince Shintarou sure doesn't mind the slight culture difference between Japan and China. Especially China." There was a slight lift to one corner of Leo's lips. Gion dared himself to say it was a smirk. 

"The animosity between Japan and China is of no concern of mine. The stereotype will not be gone anytime soon, but I have nothing to do with it. Since mantou and manju comes from the same origin, aren't they technically the same?" 

"Quite true." Leo finally looked up from his sketchpad, his smile widening enough that it looked sincere. "Although it's relatively easy to tell between the two upon sight." 

Shintarou paused for a moment, then shrugged in admission. He then took his seat at the furthest part of the couch away from Leo. After a minute, he seemed to realize something, and turned to the boy who had yet to focus away from his sketchpad. 

"So what about this mantou?" 

"Hmm? Oh, Shao Long's making some." Leo paused briefly, twirling his pen between fingers. A contemplative look in his eyes lasted for a few seconds before being washed away with a shrug. "They're all for Anubis I'm afraid." 

Three pairs of eyes stared at the humming teenager in a mixture of astonishment, disgust, confusion and disbelief. Disgust is definitely Shintarou, because it didn't make sense to him that a person was willing to do some asshole's dirty work, let alone cooking for the other. In his eyes, Shao Long had unfortunately taken the path of a pathetic shoe-licker of his master, who in this case was Anubis. Of course, the action of cooking for someone can only either be interpreted as deep care of deep devotion. Shintarou didn't think it was possible for anyone to care for a psychopath, unless they were mentally unwell. Although Shao Long had shown signs of being emotionally distraught times and times again, it wasn't to the point where he would suddenly care for a person who had literally betrayed him. 

As for Livio, there was a look of disbelief. This was, of course, rooted from his most frequent exposure to Shao Long's more cranky side, lazier, snappish, selfish and grumpy. He knew too, for a fact that these sides were the real ones Shao Long hid from people outside the dorm. To describe Shao Long as someone who was willing to cook for a certain psychopath, Livio felt that he suddenly knew nothing about Shao Long.