Ha, I don't know who'd get the shot that'd kill me. Her or you. Hell- if neither of you got there, Dad'd finish me off for the sake of macronutrients that probably aren't in 'em.

[What could be said, gains were everything. But honestly, it'd be worth it. And whatever happened, little things like occasionally eating (non-optimal!) calorie surpluses like Ignis' sweets could be concealed. It wasn't as if it was a daily thing, like his efforts for Noct.

...And he felt like he wanted to make an effort, anyway. His baking didn't taste half bad.

He makes his way over to the other man, placing a container full of various chopped veggies his way. Just for his inspection. Just so he could ascertain, with his own eyes, that they weren't cut into pieces big enough to choke anyone. (Hopefully.) He moves aside to deal with the off-cuts, collecting them in his hands and dumping them in the bin, before cleaning his side. With a different cloth. (He knew that much.)

And. He lightly bumps shoulders with him as he returns.]

Anything else I can do to help? [Crack open a few cup noodles and pour them into a pot, maybe?]