#rly enjoyed writing this. love this scenario! tysm for sending this!!! (not me realising i'd prob write a great senshi dunmeshi)

[disturbnot]

He offers a cooked section of dratini meat, the buttery flavor accented with garlic. The skin's golden brown and crispy, the smell very nutrient dense.

IF SUCH EARTHLY DELIGHTS ARE AN ARCEIST SIN, then he will gladly throw himself directly upon the brimstone of the distortion world to taste this again, and again, and again. Red has cooked the meat perfectly, sumptuous skin brought to a crisp in its own rendered fat, salt, fresh garlic and herbs; the thick meat practically melts, it's like velvet on his tongue, exploding with a uniquely meaty umami that only latent dragon energy can boast. He groans.

Ash is in another world for a brief moment; he's young again, he's awake late into the night, trying his mother's latest experimental dish for the restaurant—sleepy eyes so bleary, but he's been looking forward to this all day. That day, the local fishermen caught a few Dratini in their trawl nets, sold them to Delia at a discount in exchange for a hearty meal at the end of a long shift out on the shoals. After the restaurant closed, she retreated to the kitchen, intent on sorcery; it's not every day you get to cook with such a rare kind of meat, after all. She dried the skin and tenderly prepared the meat with butter, soy, garlic, and shichimi; cooked gently and slowly in an oven before being flash seared on her treasured flat-top.

She served it to Ash and Pikachu at the counter, accompanied by the town's favourite fried rice—Ash's preteen legs still dangling above the stool's foot-rest with excitement, gusto, even. Throughout his life, he'd always overheard the locals talk of his mother's unspeakable midas touch in the kitchen, but on this eve, Ash truly understood what they meant.

As Ash savours Red's cooking, he laments the fact the fishermen never caught Dratini in the south bay again after that.

Another bite, he sighs, smiling; such a soft symphony of flavours, sweet memories of home.

" Mmmmm ... finally know how that food critic in Rattatatouille felt, " he hums, full of gratitude. " Y'know we almost served somethin' like this at Pallet House, long time ago. Don't think my mom could ever secure a supplier, but damn ... I almost forgot how it tasted. "