fandomhigh | Lunch, Friday Noon

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Lunch, Friday Noon

Eating in a mess remained a comfortable habit. It was with no particular surprise that Ender found himself drifting there during the lunch hours, considering the day's options with a mildly curious expression.

Ham and cheese sandwiches, salad, and a kind of pudding that looked dangerous both in color and in shape, but he'd eaten worse things. He settled at a table that was neither in the corner nor particularly in the middle, and ate quietly.

If anything, it was a good place to watch.

[ lunch is always open. at lunch ]

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You didn't see that look on a lot of people, not around here. If he was to be honest, you didn't see it at Battle School much, either. But it was a look Ender recognised; a look that spoke a great deal about battles, about having people depend on you and not letting them down. He still found no childhood in it. She was a soldier.

And he knew about soldiers. Knew you didn't just earn their trust or their loyalty or even their kindness. But he had no particular interest in any of these, and so he simply held her gaze for a few long seconds before he flicked his eyes back to his food. Calmly, with no hint of fear.

If she had any particular beef with him, she'd make it clear. If she didn't, he felt little warmth for the idea of getting back into that.

"Hn." Temari looked down at her food and continued on with her own meal.

He could wait until she'd finished eating before approaching. And it didn't seem to be causing a direct threat at the moment...

Ender finished his meal as he'd finished any lunch over the past years of his life, with easy efficiency and as little consideration for taste as he possibly could. He was aware of her, still, of everyone else, but he chose to give them no attention.

At least not until the meal was done, his place left empty of any food whatsoever. His fork hit the tray, and he glanced up again, just to check who was still present.

Sipping her drink slowly, Temari was watching him again. Sizing him up for a fight if it came down to that.

Or maybe just trying to figure out how a seemingly normal child had a look she found in older ninja. One of those two.

"My name is Temari," She drawled after a long moment of silence.

So she did want to talk after all. His eyes found her quickly enough. His face remained neutral. "I'm Ender," Ender said, sitting back. "You were watching me."

"You were there," She pointed out, like that was reason enough for it. "And watching me as well."

"You're watching me like a soldier," Ender continued, his voice steady. He was examening her more openly, now that they'd mutually acknowledged the issue. "I'm not going to attack you."

"I'm not sure how else to watch someone like us." She raised an eyebrow at his other statement, trying not to seem too amused by it. "I'll take your word on that."

The statement would sound a little silly to her, he thought, but it was more for my benefit than anyone else's. Unaffected by any amusement on her part, Ender simply tilted his head, coming to some brand of decision on his own part. He held no interest in getting back into that game-- circumstances willing-- but he bode her no real ill will, either. "It wasn't meant for you," he said, without any malice. "It doesn't matter."

He wondered if she'd been sent here after a Battle School of her own; he wondered if maybe she was a spy, or some kind of control, but dismissed it. For the most part. She'd been too curious about him, as if she hadn't known him at all.

It could've been a trick. As it was, he simply didn't feel like playing.

After a moment of consideration for his words, Temari looked away. "What are you?"

He couldn't quite hide the little bolt of guilt that struck him straight in the stomach when she said that, but Ender's defenses were old by now, and his face managed to bury the brunt of it under the quiet disaffected mask he'd perfected by now. "I'm Ender Wiggin," he said, "That's all, more or less."

Unless she wanted to see where they'd put in the strings, before, one for each limb, one for each digit, but he wasn't going to share that.

"It wasn't an accusation," Temari said, uncrossing her legs and standing up.

"You asked," he replied, simply.

"Are you from this place? Like the others?"

That told him a few things. "You're not," Ender observed, "I take it the island displaced you through time and space?" That's what he'd picked up about the island-- seemingly random visitors from all ends of universes, known and unknown.

"Almost none of the technology exists where I come from," She admitted after a moment. "Are you?"

"No." Ender's tone held a faint edge to it; not quite a warning, but the assurance that he wouldn't go there, wasn't willing to go there, and that it wasn't important at all. He didn't want questions-- on some level, she'd recognised him for what he was, and he spent enough time having to deal with that on his own.

He was just tired of it. "I stayed for the food." He held up his tray.

Nodding in a sort of understanding, Temari looked away to give him some privacy again. It made sense to her, at least.

"There aren't many like us here."

"That's probably a good thing," he said, and then fell silent.

"Probably," She agreed and smoothed the lines of her dress as she stepped away from the table. "Try to smile. It will help."

Briefly, his mind flashed back to Valentine. It was silly, and it was stupid-- Temari was nothing like her at all.

But in the moment, Ender gave her a smile for that anyway, one that krept just slightly up into his cheeks before it fell back down again.

"Good to meet you, Ender," Temari said, nodding her head slightly.

"Good to meet you, Temari," he returned, because kindness deserved some kindness in return, especially if it came without pity. "I'll see you around."

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Lunch, Friday Noon

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