“A bit, yeah, made with noodles an’ any type’a seafood ya want.”
He snorted. “If yer talkin’ ‘bout that crap in Tokyo, don’ even bother. It jus’ doesn’t compare ta what we’ve got here. Osaka’s where okonomiyaki comes from, after all! An’ it’s not just good, it’s great. Best with octopus an’ bonito, too. And a’course ya gotta get th’ batter jus’ th’ right consistency…" He paused for a moment, blushing slightly in embarrassment. This was Hakuba he was talking to, not Kudo. And if the Brit made one crack about his ‘enthusiasm…’
“Sorry.”
Blink blink.
Hakuba watched Heiji, quiet and impassive, with only bewilderment as his expression. He’d known that he was excitable, but he couldn’t recall the other detective ever quite being so… so passionate about something. Safely passionate, that is.
“Ah… no, it’s fine.” The foreign detective forced a smile, brows knitting. “It seems as though I’ve found the expert for food in Osaka.” He tried to make his smile a little broader, to show that he was fine with the exuberant display, then added: "That’s a good thing.“
And then, "Ah, with… that… said, would you.. like to come with me? I’ll treat… since you know the way."