[ Wriothesley's definitely right about at least one thing -- these skewers are good. The kick of spice hits in just the right way, burning a little on the way down, and Fuuta reflexively licks his lips with the next bite to catch a bit of the spice rub that lingers there. ]

Yeah, well, I'm not. [ Scared, that is. ] So it doesn't even matter.

[ Another bite of the skewer has him huffing after a swallow. -- damn, these spices are really hitting hard. He's usually pretty good at handling spicy food, way better than most of his peers back home, but the heat from this is really lingering ... ? Fuuta swallows thickly before giving out a heavy exhale, then fiddling with the front of his hoodie, yanking down the zipper to get himself a little air. ]

And whatever. We all know how this place works by now. It's probably some ... dumb bullshit, what this does. You know. Gets you all worked up, or whatever. [ Note: he's reluctant to actually say the word 'aroused' just yet, though. ] That shit's easy to handle if you know what's coming.