[ Jaime's not sure if she's crying more or if he said something that made her cry again, but - well, there's not a lot he can do about that right now. The important thing is that he hasn't made her bolt out of the door in this state, to flee to marinate in her own misery alone. Maybe she's no less miserable here, but at least she's not miserable alone, which is what Jaime always sees as the worst case scenario; there's nothing quite so terrible as being wholly, utterly alone. ]

Okay. If you don't wanna eat by the time you start to head home, though, you're taking some back with you. I always make too much anyway.

[ It's just him and Yusuke in here, so he really ought to halve the recipe, but he always makes it in bulk, just like his Mom. He glances between the slow cooker and the card still clasped in Ruka's hands before gesturing for her to follow him into the living room. ]

Does that... does the recipe work? For more than just in a pinch? Because if it does, you can keep it. Just be careful about taking it out of its sleeve unless you need something -- different? Stronger, probably. I'm not sure.

[ He can only assume that his mother wrote it with love, but she's still his Mom. If she had been sad or angry or missing home at the time, he'd have no way of knowing. All he knows is that when she was here, everything seemed a little better, and that she had made the choice to make it that way for him regardless of her personal feelings. She always had and she always will. ]