"... e nell'ora della nostra morte, amen. Ok, now that's done and out of the way, go ahead everyone!"
Just like any other dinner, everyone had started with the whole ritual of prayer and grace (apart from Simon and Aniki, who were a devout Atheist and Shintoist respectively) before it was time to tuck in. Despite differing tastes, dinnertimes were usually quite a pleasant affair where everyone could have what they wanted; usually, it was Italian all round except for the usual suspects but that night most of them had decided to be a little bit adventurous, and had pestered Aniki to make them some sushi. The Japanese clan member had been more than happy to oblige, and the result had been an absolute feast of Nigirizushi as far as the stomach could handle.
"Wow...I think I might have made a little too much," Aniki commented, sounding quite awkward as he watched the Italians tuck in; however, awkwardness soon turned to amusement when none of his clan could actually pick up what they were trying to eat.
"It's ok," he said, trying to stifle his giggles and failing. "You can use your hands, I won't get mad."
As most of the clan jumped at the chance to drop the chopsticks and use their hands, Aniki noticed Fabio was still trying to do things the proper, cultural way. At one point, he'd actually managed to grip at the prawn, but was holding it at such an awkward angle that it was nearly impossible to get it into his mouth without dropping the piece onto the floor. When the inevitable finally happened, the Italian couldn't help pouting slightly like a frustrated child; so determined to do it the correct way but annoyed that it wasn't going his way.
"You're such a little trooper," the Japanese chuckled, softly prodding him with the chopsticks before he picked up a sushi piece in one clean swipe (despite his recent hand injuries). He smiled as he did so, knowing that what he was about to do was completely ok with Fabio and Fabio alone.
"Open up, you!"
But before Aniki could actually pop the sushi into Fabio's mouth, he felt someone nudge him with their foot; causing the sushi to escape the chopsticks' grip and roll on the floor. Usually, Aniki would have directed the blame at Tino; but with the cannibal too engrossed in his stock and sitting in such a place that he couldn't have reached the Japanese's foot, it seemed like one of those things that would remain a mystery- until he saw the smirk on Enzo's face.
"Oh you think you're so funny, you shiri. I ought to...are you alright, Fabs?"
The response was a small, sudden sneeze which took everyone, especially Fabio, by surprise. It was soon followed by another, and then another.
"Awww, it's quite kawaii when you sneeze," Aniki commented, unable to help himself from smiling and even chuckling a little.
"I don't think it's kawaii," Fabio complained, playfully mocking his clan-mate's accent. "It's meiwakuna, if anything.
"Oh dio, he's gone all weeaboo otaku mary-sue on us"
"If you're gonna throw some Japanese and that terrible accent this way, Enzo, say it to me or shut the hell up."
"Hey, steady on, Confucius," he replied, feeling slightly awkward as he noticed Aniki's dark glare. "I didn't mean anything bad by it."
"Will you ever get it in your head that I'm not Chinese but actually Japanese?"
"Seriously though, what's the difference?"
"I giapponesi sono perdenti."
"Don't think I didn't hear that, temawashi orugan sōsha!"
"Organ grinder? Why you..."
Just like every other of the clan's dinnertimes, Aniki and Tino had once again gotten themselves locked into a heated argument of somewhat racist proportions; however, the tension was suddenly broken by yet another sneeze and a sniffle on Fabio's behalf.
"You must have caught my cold," Simon suddenly said, in a matter-of-fact way. "Should clear up in a couple of days, no biggie."
"That was no cold," Ace snickered, darting a devious look in the lawyer's direction. "That was the backlash of a drug habit. Not even unicorns and shit like that sneeze out white powder."
"Oh fuck you," the lawyer retorted, almost spitting the words out in disgust and being grateful that no-one was glaring due to his profanity. "You always have to make that—hey, are you...are you seriously alright? You look awful."
"Mi scusi," Fabio said, rather apologetically as he stood up from the table. Every member of the clan was suddenly looking at him and feeling quite worried; thanks to the ice, he was often pale but at that moment, he was looking like a thin, white ghost. He'd tried to act calm and composed as he left the table, but he suddenly broke into a run midway; with a hand on his stomach and a hand over his mouth, Fabio looked as if he was desperately trying to refrain from being sick there and then.
"Poor guy," Tino said, still picking at his stock. "I'd hate to think what's got him like that."
"It was probably the smell of your corpses," Aniki muttered, not even bothering to be quiet about it.
"Vaffanculo, chopstick fag, even if it is true!" Tino retorted, slamming his fork down and making quite a few of his more skittish clan mates jump. "You can be all rule-mongering about manners but I'm going to do your job and see if your amichetto's alright."
He was used to just leaving the table without excusing himself; even the members of his own clan weren't about to question him when he was in one of his "moods." Soon finding himself in the corridors near the dining room, Tino couldn't help calling out to his "missing" clan mate.
He suddenly heard a retching from the nearby bathroom, accompanied with a soft, continuous "Oh dio...oh dio..." Noticing Fabio shivering through the doorway, the cannibal was quick to take off his jacket and wrap it around the other Italian's shoulders. About to pull him in close for comfort, he could sense another retching was afoot and decided against it, for both Fabio and his jacket's sake.
"That's right, let it all out of your system," he cooed, almost quite sanely for his cannibal self; however, despite his attempts to be gentle, Tino couldn't help feeling a little worried by the sight of the vomit. He'd been expecting some kind of food to come out as his clan-mate's eating habits had been like any other day; but it seemed he was keeping down the food and just bringing bile back up.
"Can...you...get...Aniki...please?" Fabio weakly asked, having to break up his words in constant conviction he was about to be sick again at that moment. His request has caused Tino to sigh in frustration but since it was Fabio who asked, he was willing to do it.
"Ey! Chopstick fag! Get your culo over here!"
Within seconds, Aniki had made himself known in the bathroom and had soon established his position by Fabio's side; glaring rather darkly at Tino as to say "Get away from him.".
"Mazushii hitobito Fabio wa, Tino de tachiōjō suru koto. Aniki wa ima koko ni aru... Ā!"
He'd been interrupted by another round of sick, courtesy of Fabio. Looking rather concerned, he began rubbing his clan-mate's back in a bid to settle his stomach, unsure whether it would work but deeming it worth a shot.
"I honestly didn't think you were this bad. Do you want me to see if I can get someone to swap rooms with you for the next few days?"
"He's swapping rooms with me, chopstick fag."
"Think about it. He's a puke fountain right now and his room being closest to the basement isn't going to help in terms of all my stock. He can't even stand the smell on a good day. I keep telling Don it would make more sense to have me closest to the basement. Besides, our rooms are next to each other so he'd have you for company."
Tino noticed the metal bucket next to him; it was the one that held all the bathroom supplies but this time around, it would serve another purpose. Not caring what sort of mess he was making or what trouble he'd get into, he emptied it of all supplies and what he called "nonsense" before almost forcing it onto Aniki.
"Here, get him to bed and take this. The poor guy's going to need it."