Jackson wasn't in the mood for running away and being thrown at the table, with his hips aching he carefully took a seat as they were on opposite sides. "I-I'm... allergic to pineapple," He murmured, looking down at his plate of food. It looked good, it really did, but his stomach just wasn't having it. Squirming in his seat he lightly pushed the food away from him, grabbing his uneasy stomach. Normally he ate a shit load of food without a care, hell he hadn't been sick in years, so this was very unusual to see of him.<br/><br/>"I really don't feel good..." Even if he ate it his anxious stomach would probably just reject it. Looking up at Onin for a moment all he could imagine were the damn words he had said when he was forced to his knees. "I'll eat tomorrow," He said uneasily. With another person joining them in the kitchen he quickly lowered his head so wet hair hid most of his features. The man still didn't even know his first name, only his last because he had told him his father's name.<br/><br/>Maybe he'd tell him, not with this woman here who probably had some kind of personal connection with Onin to be cleaning up the blood without a question. He thought that the man wouldn't force the food down his throat with the girl there, or at least would understand he wasn't lying and really wasn't feeling well enough to stomach some kind of food.