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doodlyyna · 9 hours ago

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RAW FEELINGS ― R. SUKUNA

♯ content. ― chef!sukuna, college!reader, fem!reader, small age gap (sukuna is 28, reader is 23), likely incorrect use of culinary terms and michelin stars again, ooc!sukuna me thinks, ooc! everyone actually. wc. 6.3k

✎ summary. — When Ryomen Sukuna announces a meet-and-greet event, you sign up, not thinking anything of it. That is, until you're on a flight to LA to attend a cooking class with a michelin chef. Only problem is.. you're a terrible cook.

⤷ note: soso sorry for the wait! the last week has been so busy </3 (credit to my discord kittens for the title, poetic geniuses🙂‍↕️)

The meeting room smells like coffee and pure exhaustion. The table is littered with empty cups, half opened laptops, and scattered papers filled with notes. A whiteboard sits at the front of the room, the ink of half finished thoughts smudged and erased. It's silent, aside from Uraume's exasperated sighs and Sukuna's fingers drumming on the edge of the table.

The past hour has gone something like this:

An idea is proposed. A signing event, a merch line, discounted meals, anything you could think of. Sukuna leans back, pretends to consider it, and then shakes his head. By the third suggestion, Uraume can sense an oncoming headache. Despite how badly they want to intervene as his manager, they can't force Sukuna to participate in an event. He simply won't show up.

His PR team's leader, Kenji, is worn thin. "Oh," he lifts his head, "we can sell his apron. Or one of his knives."

Sukuna scoffs. "Who the hell is buyin' that?"

Kenji takes a breath, doing his best to channel his inner patience. "I don't see you offering any ideas."

The man does nothing but shrug, leaning back in his seat. "That's your job. 'm not allowed to pitch ideas anymore, remember?"

At times like this, Uraume wonders how he made it this far.

Thinking back, they've been there to watch his entire career develop. He went from a broke college student posting gourmet instant noodle recipes to a michelin star chef with a successful restaurant. Uraume was the one who encouraged him to start posting in the first place. He never lacked passion. If anything, he just needed a small nudge in the right direction.

He started off as a line cook, quiet and dedicated to his craft. It wasn't often that he actually spoke to his coworkers outside of work. Back then, Sukuna didn't care where he was as long as he was cooking.

Uraume still remembers the night they met as if it was yesterday. It was late at night, in a small convenience store near their school. They were standing in front of the instant noodles when Sukuna walked beside them, nudging his chin towards the pack in their hand. "Don't get that one," he'd plucked the noodles from their hand, tossing it onto the shelf. "Get this. It's healthy but it still tastes good."

Looking at him, messy pink hair and tribal tattoos, Uraume only had one thought — he was weird. Especially after he went on a rant about the levels of MSG in instant foods as of late. Without a word, he took their bowl and made his way to the microwave. Uraume couldn't do anything but follow behind the stranger, watching in awe as he put such care into something so simple. In the end, curiosity won, and they tried the food. For convenience store noodles, it was the best thing they'd ever tasted.

In the past, he was just a college student with a brash personality Uraume could appreciate. Now, he's the main reason for the dull ache in Uraume's temple.

All things considered, Sukuna has never been easy to work with. Between his snarky comments and dry attitude, most people didn't like him. He wasn't one to express himself clearly, but he wasn't so bad if you bothered to look close enough.

He's weird that way. But people say some things presents itself in mysterious ways. It seems that Sukuna's way of showing he cares is by being insufferable and annoying his entire team.

Speak of the devil, his voice interrupts Uraume's thoughts. "I'm a chef. I cook."

Someone scoffs, "You have fans, Sukuna. That basically makes you a celebrity."

That's it. How could they forget? Ryomen Sukuna is a chef above all else.

He sucks his teeth. "The hell do you people take me fo—"

"Be quiet," Uraume interrupts. "How about a cooking class that doubles as a meet-and-greet?"

A beat passes. Slowly, everyone's attention turns to Sukuna.

He stays silent. Uraume takes it as their cue to continue. "We can keep it small, ten people at most. Sukuna gets to cook, and his fans get to meet him. Win-win."

The room watches him with bated breath. This is their best idea so far; if he rejects this, they're out of luck.

After what feels like hours, Sukuna finally turns to face Uraume. "I have full control of the menu." He pauses, then adds, "And I want to choose the winners."

The entire room seems to release a breath. Now that he finally agreed to an idea, the hard part is over. All that's left is to figure out details and announce the event.

From there on, the meeting room is the image of controlled chaos. With so many things to figure out and so little time, everyone is moving quickly. Even Sukuna is put to work, much to his dismay, assigned with deciding on a menu and the event type.

The setting sun shines through the windows, casting a warm light on the aftermath of today's work. Papers are still scattered across the table, now filled with notes and tasks. The sounds of pens scratching across paper and clicking keyboards have died down into relaxed jokes.

The room gradually gets empty, until it's just the two of them left. Sukuna leans back with his legs spread under the table. He seems to be lost in thought when Uraume looks up. After a moment, his head jerks up, his brows furrowed. "They're amateurs. Probably can't even hold a knife properly. How am I 'posed to teach a cooking class like that?"

Uraume doesn't even look up this time, still focused on the pile of papers in front of them. "We're choosing two students from a local culinary school." They glance up, commenting dryly, "Try not to suck the life out of them."

Sukuna hums, then grins. "Always a step ahead, huh? Smart cookie."

They don't respond, but Sukuna doesn't miss the faint smile pulling at their lips. Even after nine years, the two of them haven't changed.

When you see the announcement, you're sprawled out on the floor in your friend's dorm. While everyone else is scattered around the room, Shoko sits beside you with her feet on your lap, turning her phone every few minutes to show you another stupid post. Suddenly, she sits up, shoving her phone in your face. "Look! Isn't this that dude you're always drooling over?"

You sit up, confusion painted across your features. "What dude?"

9 Year Anniversary Event: Meet-and-greet cooking class with Michelin Chef Ryomen Sukuna!

The room falls silent. You stare at the screen for a few seconds too long, and Shoko stares at you as if you're malfunctioning. To be fair, you are.

Maki leans forward, peeking over Shoko's shoulder. "A meet and greet? That has to be a scam. I heard he's an asshole in person."

"Yeah," Utahime chimes in, "But he looks better in person. I think you should sign up!"

You glance between them, weighing your options. On one hand, it's a great opportunity. You've been watching Sukuna since your freshman year of high school. You remember binging his videos when you were supposed to be studying algebra. He was only nineteen then, still adventurous enough to try whatever weird combination fans recommended. His thumbnails were what caught your attention, always pictures of the food at weird angles. However, his blunt personality is what kept you watching for so long.

So, there's plenty of reasons to sign up — there's one thing that cancels everything else out. One tiny, irrelevant problem.

You can't cook. Not only that, you're terrible at it.

Shoko clicks on the post and scrolls. She hums contemplatively, then shrugs. "It looks fun. I don't see why not."

Nodding in agreement, Utahime moves to sit on your left. She snatches the pillow under your head, grinning when you swat at her. "You've liked him for a long time, right? As long as you don't faint in front of him, you'll be fine!"

After a moment, Maki speaks up. "Are you going to be upset if you don't win? There's probably thousands of people signing up." Maki cares about all of you, it's just.. subtle.

You purse your lips, mulling it over. She's not wrong; there's no telling how many people will sign up, so it's better to stay realistic.

"Okay," you murmur, glancing over the details. "Yolo, I guess." Mumbling a half-hearted prayer that you aren't selling your soul, you reach for the phone.

Shoko immediately gasps, slamming her phone down. "Yolo? Whenever I say it you act like it's a crime!"

Laughter fills the room. Maki snorts, "Only because you say it whenever that douchebag calls you."

She opens her mouth to speak, glancing around for a moment, then closes it. "It doesn't hurt to be curious. Maybe he wants to get back together."

"Curiousity killed the cat," you tease, plucking the phone from her hands. "I think you're out of lives, missy."

Shoko rolls her eyes, but she's already smirking. "It's nothing serious, okay? I'm just.. gathering information."

"Information about how pathetic he is," Utahime mumbles, peeking over your shoulder.

Maki tosses a pillow at her, sighing loudly. "Can we stop talking about exes? I'm getting a headache."

You chuckle, tossing Shoko's phone onto her lap. "Deal. No more reminiscing tonight."

The dorm settles into a low hum, AC rattling in the window like it's trying to escape. The form sits forgotten on Shoko's phone, confirmation email sitting in your inbox. As you lie there, surrounded by crumbs and laughter, you can't help but smile.

A week later, you get the email.

You're sitting in the library, laptop half open in front of you as you pretend to study. You nearly drop your phone and scream.

Congratulations! You've been selected to participate in Ryomen Sukuna's 9th Anniversary Meet-and-Greet!

You stare at the email for what feels like hours. Is this real? Thousands, maybe more signed up for this. What are the chances that you got picked?

Eventually you close the email and brush it off as a scam. They've gotten more and more realistic lately.

Deep down, you're a little disappointed. But you weren't expecting to win. It's enough to live through the few people that did win.

At least, that's what you thought — until your phone is displaying a call from an unsaved number. You usually don't answer calls like that, but something in your gut told you to answer.

"Hello?"

Uraume's voice comes through the speaker, soft and flat.

"Hi. This is Uraume, Chef Sukuna's manager. We sent an email yesterday and didn't get a response."

You blink, fumbling for words. "I— That was real?"

The line is quiet for a moment, then a soft huff of laughter. "Yes, that was real. You were selected as one of the winners."

"...Are you sure?"

"I'm positive," Uraume reassures. "Ryomen picked the winners himself."

Your heart nearly drops through the floor. Ryomen Sukuna himself picked.. you?

Uraume continues at your silence. "If you're unable to attend—"

"No, no, I can!" You blurt, scrambling to gather your things. "Um, I might need some time to figure out transportation and such."

"Everything is paid for. It's an all-inclusive trip."

"Oh."

The realization sinks like a brick. You're going to meet someone you've admired for nearly ten years. You're meeting Ryomen Sukuna.

And then it really hits you.

You're meeting Ryomen Sukuna.. at a cooking class.

And you're a terrible cook.

"Are you there?"

Uraume's voice brings you out of your thoughts. "I'm here. Um, is there anything else I need to do?"

"No. The rest of the details will be emailed to you. Have a nice day."

The call ends soon after, leaving you in a calm silence. It lasts for a total of ten seconds.

You're already frantically tapping at your screen, excitement bubbling in your chest as you all but sprint out of the library. You can't dial the numbers fast enough.

You call Shoko first. She gets less than ten words out before you're cutting her off. "Yes, my buzzy beautiful sunshine nug—"

"Sho, the email wasn't a scam! I actually won!"

"Won? What are you talking about?"

You falter mid step, staring ahead incredulously. "Sho.. the event I signed up for last week."

A beat of silence. Then: a gasp and squeal. "Seriously? Oh, don't forget me when you marry him and get super rich and famous."

You click your tongue and shake your head, smiling. "You're the first one I'm forgetting if that ever happens."

You call Utahime and Maki next. Utahime talks so fast that you have to remind her to breathe, and Maki sighs exasperatedly in the background.

The next two days are a cycle of rereading the email, packing, and questioning your sanity.

You and your friends gather in your dorm the day before you leave, huddled around your suitcase.

"It's a cooking class, not a trip to the Bahamas. Why would I pack a bathing suit?"

Shaking her head, Shoko shoves it into your bag anyway. "You're probably going to some snotty hotel. It's obviously going to have a pool, so you need a bathing suit."

Surprisingly, Maki nods in agreement. "Think of it as a vacation. It's not everyday that your whole trip is paid for." She ignores you even when you glare at her, turning to look at Utahime rummaging through your closet. "What are you looking for?"

She turns, holding out a dress. "An outfit for the event. This is a michelin chef we're talking about. My dear friend, you will turn heads."

When Utahime gets like this, it's best to let her be. Maki sighs, turning to find Shoko elbow deep in her chips. "I dunno. He's not all that— Maki!"

Shoko whines, clutching her arm where Maki pinched her. She pays the girl no mind, snatching the bag of chips. "Don't overthink it. You should worry about being comfortable."

"Don't listen to her," Utahime mumbles, pulling out another mini dress. "You'll get a chance to have fun at some point. Best to be prepared."

You wave her off and shrug. "I guess. Nothing too.. racy. I'm still going to be surrounded by strangers."

Staring down at your suitcase ― packed to the brim with clothes and everything unnecessary. It almost feels bittersweet. You won't be gone for long, but it's still going to fee weird not having your three closet friends around. You'll have to learn new faces and names, get acquainted all over again. It's a little daunting.

Maki, ever the observant one, pulls you from your thoughts. "We'll call every day for updates. Bring back some souvenirs, too."

Utahime pouts, wrapping her arms around you. "Text us when you land, okay?"

You nod, looking around at the mess you'd made in your dorm. "I'm going to miss you guys."

Shoko hums, batting her lashes at you. "You'll miss me the most, right?"

The rest of the night is filled with laughter and comments about your husband waiting for you. And even though you're nervous, afraid of what will greet you tomorrow, it feels a little less scary with them.

The next day goes by in a blur. Airport lines, irritated TSA staff, and overpriced coffee that tastes like dirt.

By the time you land, you're running on spite, two hours of sleep, and a lukewarm red bull.

When the shuttle finally pulls up to the hotel, marble floors and staff that get paid enough to be this nice, one thing is clear.

This is real. You're here, in California, meeting Ryomen Sukuna.

Staff dressed in sleek black and red uniforms greet you with practiced smiles, taking your bags before you can blink. You're escorted to a lounge area where you wait for the other participants.

"Hey," a voice calls out, startling you from your half-asleep state.

A man comes into view, long dark hair and a ridiculously handsome face. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Just wanted to introduce myself." He extends his hand, "Geto Suguru."

You sit up, extending your hand to shake his. It's warm, his fingertips slightly calloused from use. You offer your name, sitting a little straighter when he repeats it. "Nice to meet you. Hopefully, we'll run into each other outside of the event."

Before you can respond or ask what he meant, Uraume is stepping into the room behind the last two participants. Once everyone is seated, they introduce themselves. "Good morning. My name is Uraume, but you all probably know me as Sukuna's manager."

A staff member comes around to distribute keycards. "These cards will get you into your rooms. First, we'll let everyone get settled, and then go over details of the event. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask any of the staff members. Also, feel free to make use of all the amenities."

With that, Uraume steps out of the room, leaving the rest of you to converse amongst yourselves.

The man from earlier is nowhere to be found. But, there's plenty of time to figure out what he meant. In the meantime, you may as well get to know the rest of the participants.

A boy with salmon-colored hair approaches you, another with dark, spiky hair trailing behind him. "I'm Yuuji!"

His energy is somewhat startling, yet refreshing. You nod, blinking the sleep from your eyes as you introduce yourself. He suddenly turns, pushing the other boy forward. "This is Megumi! Don't mind him, he's just a bit grumpy from jet lag."

Megumi stares at you, offering a tired wave. It seems like that's the most you'll get from him tonight.

The rest of the participants introduce themselves: Satoru, Nobara, Todo, Inumaki, and Nanami. It's a diverse group, for sure.

With introductions out of the way, everyone splits up to find their rooms. When you arrive at your room, the hallway is still full of people gathering their things. Satoru is on your left, and Yuuji is across the hall. As if the two of them aren't lively enough, Todo is only a door down.

You glance around, the man from earlier is still nowhere to be found. But, the room beside yours has luggage sitting untouched outside the door. When you peek at the tag, you find a familiar name is scrawled across the paper.

Geto Suguru.

You keep the information in mind.

When you finally step into your room, it smells like citrus and clean linen. It's spacious, to say the least. Floor to ceiling windows, king-sized bed, and a bathroom that looks straight out of a movie. A welcome basket sits on the desk, stuffed with trinkets, snacks, and a schedule for the next few days. A handwritten note is attached with your name on it, stamped with Sukuna's logo.

You drops your bags by the closet door and sink into the plush mattress. The last few days are still catching up to you ― the email, the call from Uraume, the flight, this hotel ― it's exhausting. Everything here is the picture definition of quiet luxury.

Your mind drifts back to the stranger from before, Geto Suguru. You say his name on the luggage next door, but where did he go? And what did he mean by "see more of each other?"

For now, you decide to drop it. There's still plenty of time to play detective. The first thing on the schedule is right around the corner.

Standing from the bed with a heavy sigh, you reach to open your suitcase. Since it's only the first day, it's better to start with a simple outfit. Just as you're applying finishing touches to your outfit, there's a knock on your door. Satoru's sing-song voice sounds shortly after.

"Princess, it's time to go! They're calling us for the event debrief.. or whatever it's called."

You snort, walking to pull the door open. You find Satoru, Yuuji, and a less grumpy looking Megumi standing outside. "Oh, did you guys wait for me?"

Yuuji grins. "Yeah, we figured we could all walk down together."

You smile, touched by the gesture. "Thanks. Let's go before we're late."

The four of you make your way downstairs, quickly finding the meeting room. The energy in the room is a weird mix of nerves and excitement, everyone murmuring in anticipation. The table is decorated with small treats and drinks, as well as name tags for each person. When you sit down, you notice Geto's name tag across from you.

Uraume stands at the front of the room, stoic as ever. To your surprise, Suguru is standing beside them, along with Todo. They're both introduced as culinary students that are there for experience.

When you look up again, you catch Suguru watching you. His gaze lingers a moment too long to consider casual, then he looks away.

The debrief continues smoothly with a short presentation covering kitchen etiquette and safety rules.

The rest of the evening moves quickly. Dinner with the participants, a tour of the kitchen, and a reminder to get enough rest. Tomorrow, the real event begins.

When you make it to your room, it feels like you've been awake for days. You fall into the nest of blankets and pillows without bothering to unpack the rest of your suitcase. You can deal with that in the morning.

For now, you sleep.

The next morning moves fast. Breakfast, small talk, and outfit changes feel like a blur. Before you know it, the sun is high in the sky and you're being led into a kitchen that probably costs more than you can comprehend.

The room is decorated with sleek appliances, dark wood, and soft lighting. Stations are set with prepped ingredients and polished utensils, each marked with a name tag. Glancing up, you find Suguru standing in front of your station, a smile stretched across his lips. "Looks like we're station buddies."

You laugh, nodding. "I guess so."

Staff members float through the room, making final adjustments, but your attention is drawn to the banner hanging in the front.

Ryomen Sukuna's 9-year Anniversary

You're barely settled when the door swings open, and in walks the man himself. You imagined this moment over and over in you head, but none of it looked like this. If you thought he looked big on the screen, there's nothing to describe how he looks in person.

He stops at the front of the room, crossing his arms as he introduces himself. "I'm Ryomen Sukuna, owner of Malevolent Shrine. Thanks for comin', and.. uh, nice to meet you all."

There's something attractive about the casual confidence he exudes, like he owns the room without trying. And he does. All eyes are on him.

"Today's going to be simple," he starts, voice low and rough. "We're going to cook, eat, and you might learn somethin' if you're lucky."

A few chuckles sound throughout the room and Sukuna grins, almost sharp enough to feel dangerous.

He makes his way around the room, learning names and faces. When he reaches your station, he grins again. Only this time, it's slower. Flashing his canines, he extends his hand towards you. "'m sure you know my name by now. Mind telling me yours?"

You blink, slightly flustered from seeing him so close. You give him your name, watching as he tests it on his tongue. "Pretty name for a pretty girl."

You thank him, all smiles and pink cheeks. Sukuna only smiles, leaning against the counter. "You excited?"

"Of course! I mean, I've been watching you for years."

This time, Sukuna blinks. "Years?"

You nod, glancing away. "Oh.. well, yeah. I still remember your garbage ramen—"

He immediately straightens, his ears tinted pink. "The fuck? Why do you remember that? I was, what— nineteen?"

"It was what made me start watching you."

He looks back at you, tilting his head. Before he can respond, Uraume is getting his attention, gesturing for him to move on.

He sighs, pointing at you. "We're finishin' this later." Sukuna walks off, returning to his spot at the front of the room.

Suguru turns to look at you, grinning as he teases. "Someone got his attention."

At the front of the room, Sukuna speaks up, now to standing behind his station. He's already rolled up his sleeves, revealing the black ink curling along his forearms. "Alright, we're making two dishes today. Gyoza and donburi. It's simple enough, so try to make it look good, at least.

Sukuna gestures to the ingredients laid out in front of him. "We'll start with the dough and filling for the gyoza. Watch me first, then I'll come around and see how bad you're screwin' it up."

You glance up, peeking past Suguru to see him separating ingredients.

Leaning forward, you speak loudly enough for him to hear. "You've made this before?"

He shrugs. "Once or twice."

He falls into a rythym: chopping, mixing, portioning the filling and dough. The kitchen is full of motion and soft chatter, broken by the occasional comment from Sukuna.

"That's too thick," he calls across the room.

You're halfway through dicing your vegetables when Suguru turns, examining your work. "You're holding the knife wrong. You could cut your fingers."

He's quick to cover your hands with his own, correcting your grip on the knife. "Like this. And you cut them wrong."

Another voice cuts in, dry and amused. "Cut them wrong? It looks like a massacre," Megumi mumbles from two stations down, prompting Yuuji to laugh.

You frown, shielding your station from his view. "It's not wrong. I julienned it. I think."

Sukuna walks past your station, pausing as he eyes the state of your vegetables. He doesn't speak at first, simply nudges you to the side and cuts them for you. He's already walking away before you can thank him, kissing his teeth as he passes Nobara's station.

"Are you even trying? I could've done better with my feet."

Nobara scoffs, smacking the cutting board. "It doesn't matter if they look bad, I'm just going to eat yours!"

Sukuna scowls, walking back to his station. "Spoiled brat."

You mix the rest of the ingredients, dumping them into the bowl. After a few minutes, it starts to resemble dumpling filling.

Sukuna passes by your station again, fulling stopping in his tracks. "..The hell did you do?"

You glance up, only to find him staring at you. He nudges you aside again, plucking a spoon from your drawer. He scoops the filling, bringing it to his mouth.

"Wait, that's raw. Can't you get salmonella?"

Sukuna brushes you off, popping the spoon into his mouth. "It's extra protein, don't worry."

Not even a split second later, his whole face twists. Everything is off. It's crunchy, yet somehow slimy, too salty, and there's a weird aftertaste to it. He pauses for a moment, pressing his lips together. "...fuckin' hell."

You falter, embarrassed by the sudden attention. "I'm the only one that has to eat it, right?"

As if realizing what he said, he immediately backtracks. "It's not bad.. just a little salty."

You're not even looking at him, too embarrassed to comprehend what he's saying. He leans down, catching your gaze with furrowed brows. "Look, it's not bad, seriously. Didn't mean to hurt your feelings, sweetheart. You can use mine, it's not like I really need it."

You nod, glancing at him quickly. "Okay."

He switches your bowls out, then starts walking around the room. You don't realize he's passed your station so many times, so focused on trying to get the next part right. Filling the dumpling wrappers and folding the dough. He's lingering near your station longer than he really needs, practically supervising you.

You're struggling to fold the dough when a warm hand covers yours, guiding your fingers to pinch the gyoza closed. "There you go," Sukuna murmurs, his voice low. "Better than the other three attempts."

He straightens up, brushing past you to return to his station. "Gyoza goes on the trays for steaming. The staff will handle that," Sukuna says, motioning to the side. "Now, grab a clean pan. We're starting the donburi."

At the front, Sukuna tosses rice into his pan. The smell of garlic and soy sauce instantly fill the room. "This is more about taste than appearance. Don't burn it."

Just as you're oiling your pan, Sukuna is passing by your station again. "Let me help you, sweetheart."

He reaches around you, hand brushing your wrist as he tilts the pan just slightly. "Not too much oil. You want it hot, not drowning."

You nod, heart beating a little too fast as he tosses in garlic and diced onions. He doesn't leave right away, either. He lingers, nudging your hand when you start stirring too early.

"Let it sit. It'll burn if you mess with it too much," he murmurs, so close his lips are almost brushing your ear.

In front of you, Suguru clears his throat. "You giving everyone that much help, or just her?"

Sukuna looks up, meeting his gaze head on. "Funny coming from you, student. You shouldn't need my help for something like this."

Suguru smiles, holding his hands up in surrender. "Just making sure you remember the rest of us are here."

Sukuna snorts, finally stepping away from your station. "Step it up, then."

He walks away, but not before sparing you one last glance. He moves throughout the room, giving feedback and barking out orders.

The rest comes together easily enough: sauce, layering flavors, finishing touches. By the time you're plating, the room smells incredible.

You step back, admiring your hard work. Really, it was Sukuna's, but that's neither here nor there.

As everyone starts plating, the room shifts into a quieter chaos. Laughter mixes with the clinking of utensils, and a few stations over, Satoru proudly announces that his food is edible.

You glance over at Suguru, who's already finished arranging his donburi. "Want to try mine>

I was, what— nineteen?"