". . .what is it?" Iruka asked nervously, looking across the table at Tobirama's bowl and then his face.

"I apologise," Tobirama put his spoon back in the bowl, licking his lips with a faint grimace, "simply not the, ah . . . flavour profile I was expecting."

"Oh. . . Yes, that." Iruka sighed. "I tried to fix it, I'm sorry," he paused, "er. Parsley and coriander shouldn't look so . . . similar."