"F'you wanna know what I think, I think we should get him a medium pork bowl from Sugiya on the way home."

He said with a pouty voice as he messed with the wash packet on his side of the table, opening it and washing his hands lazily with the damp, scented cloth.

Perhaps he was only teasing, picking on Ashiya. Or, on a deeper level, he wanted Ashiya to feel what he felt for once. Left out and fed table scraps.

But of course, that implied Urushihara was deep. Which he wasn't.