Cooking for Two? [Berwald & Tino]

[phantomace1412]

Tino hummed happily as he browsed the several food stands in Seaside Port's market. So many friendly people, fresh fish, and strange ingredients he'd never even heard of. He wanted to use all of them in one of his dishes, but he knew that was nearly impossible. He didn't have nearly enough money, especially since he was just starting out with his Pokemon training, and he had no idea what any of the ingredients would taste like. And while the vendors were kind, they still wouldn't allow him to have a taste test before buying. Tino supposed he would just have to come back another day to get all the things he needed.

After he was done with his first walk through of seeing just what was there, he turned around and started again, his Bulbasaur Hanatamago following silently behind just as he did the first time. Tino didn't mind how silent his Pokemon was, and actually found himself liking it. It reminded him of a certain someone. Tino gave a soft, sad smile as he looked down at Hanatamago, who tilted his head in confusing and patted at his arm, as if he could sense his emotions. "It's nothing," he whispered as he patted the Pokemon's head. "I was just thinking of something that happened a while ago." He distracted himself with the first stand he went to, saying hello to the vendor once again and buying what he needed.

'I'll find him, I know I will.'

[Sweden]

The port bustled with movement. Sweden carefully picked his way through the crowds of people standing before the individual stalls, Siv tucked neatly beneath his arm. In his mouth, he could taste the rich, salt-laden air of the surrounding sea, and a part of him wondered if perhaps this section of the new world related at all to the part he came from. That would be nice, though it also seemed improbably given the warmth of the climate. Perhaps it originated from other familiar parts…? Those he overheard talking called this place ‘Seaside Port’—maybe, just maybe, it was connected to Sealand in some way.

Thinking of his son naturally led to thoughts of his wife, and though Sweden didn’t quite stop in the middle of the crowded port, his pace did falter before it slowed. People crashed into him as they hurried past, but he paid them no mind. His brow furrowed somewhat, and his grip tightened on the tiny pokémon in his grasp. He hadn’t seen Finland since the meteor hit, hadn’t caught so much as a single hint as to his whereabouts or condition or… anything. A part of him would admit to being concerned about Finland’s safety, but a larger part of him knew that his wife was perfectly fine. Given his tough history, Finland could easily handle himself if necessary, and this world seemed relatively peaceful, anyway.

Still, for all that he knew his wife would be alright, that didn’t stop the one part of him from fretting over him. It helped keep his mind off things by having Siv to depend on him but in moments like this, moments when Siv curled happily in his arms, he couldn’t help but wonder and grow a little bit lonesome. It would be nice to have Finland’s happy chatter fill the air—that, he thought, was perhaps the thing he missed most. His wife’s happiness, cheerfulness, chattiness; everything that made Finland the warm, loving nation he was, and everything that won Sweden’s heart over again and again.

He shook his head, unperturbed by the sudden wave of loneliness his thoughts gave birth to, and stopped at a stall at random. Siv lifted his head and perked up at the sight of the vendor’s wares, letting out a small, happy chirp. Sweden gave him a light squeeze in understanding, his eyes inspecting the various foods laid out before him. He didn’t recognize most of them, but he did know that the tiny basket of colorful, albeit sometimes oddly shaped, fruits were berries. Just what he needed. Sweden shoved a hand into his pocket, searching for some money to see if he could afford the triple-digit price, and by accident elbowed the person next to him in the process.

“Sor—T’no…?” Sweden’s arm froze, his money search temporarily forgotten as he stared at the familiar head of light blond hair not even a full third of a meter away from him. So close, he could almost touch him—could actually touch him, if only he could get his hand to move and land on that smaller, thinner shoulder. He swallowed thickly, his eyes almost wide behind his glasses, but didn’t move. “T’no?”