At first, Aina Saiten had chosen this izakaya because its owners were a kindly elderly couple, and most of the customers were local residents.
There was no fear of shady characters mingling in such a place, which put her mind at ease.
Aina reached out and gently pushed open the wooden door adorned with wind chimes, which chimed a crisp, pleasant “ding-dling.”
It was the busiest time in the restaurant; nearly every table was full. Most were local residents gathering here after work for casual get-togethers.
The clinking of glasses, laughter, and the soft clatter of dishes blended into a lively symphony.
Her eyes quickly scanned the somewhat crowded interior, anxiously searching for that familiar figure.
Kaoru Hoshitani seemed to possess a unique aura that made him stand out wherever he was.
Aina barely had to try before her gaze landed precisely on him.
He looked like a modern silhouette stepped out of a ukiyo-e print, gently wrapped in the warm yellow light of the izakaya and the aroma of food.
The bandana on the back of his head was neatly tied, with a few rebellious strands of black hair slipping out along the edges, resting over his smooth forehead and elegantly shaped ears, making his youthful face appear even clearer and more radiant.
Kaoru wore the common navy-blue work uniform of the izakaya, slightly loose but appearing crisp thanks to his lean figure.
When he knelt on the tatami to take orders, he leaned forward slightly, blinking those large, expressive eyes that seemed almost capable of speech, a gentle smile curving his lips as he focused intently on the customers’ needs, then carefully recorded the orders with his long, graceful fingers holding the pen.
When he bent to serve dishes, customers could see the elegant line of his neck beneath the white bandana and the lowered, thick-lashed eyelids.
That obedient yet earnest expression drew attention in an inexplicable way.
Undoubtedly, these customers would come to Kawasakiya’s izakaya more often.
“Welcome, sir. Please…”
Kaoru, holding two frothy glasses of chilled beer steadily in both hands, was about to turn from the counter to serve a table when the figure at the door caught the corner of his eye.
He thought it was a new customer just arriving and was ready to welcome them and help find a seat.
But before he could finish his sentence, his gaze sharpened, fully recognizing the visitor.
“Huh? Aina?! What are you doing here?”
The standard smile on his face instantly shifted to genuine surprise and a faint, hard-to-notice joy.
His voice was full of astonishment, and the hand holding the beer froze momentarily.
Hearing Kaoru’s surprised question, Aina scratched her nose sheepishly, her gaze flickering nervously, unable to hold his clear eyes for too long.
How could she tell him she had come because she’d been unsettled after watching that devastating video and couldn’t stop worrying, so she’d come to check on him?
“I… I didn’t have much to do at home, so I thought I’d come by to see…”
She stammered, her voice a bit softer than usual, trying to sound casual and natural.
“I see.”
Kaoru didn’t seem to notice the storm hidden beneath her calm surface; he simply nodded in understanding, the gentle smile returning to his face.
He was indeed busy to the point where his feet hardly touched the ground, a fine sweat beading at his temples, gleaming faintly under the warm light.
“Aina, why don’t you find a spot and sit for a bit? I’m really swamped right now, but once this rush is over, I’ll come find you.”
His tone carried a hint of apology as he gestured at the slightly crowded interior.
Aina quickly nodded and found an empty single seat near the counter, sitting down and resting her chin on her hand, though her gaze involuntarily and intently followed that beautiful figure busily weaving through the restaurant.
Kaoru mainly handled the front-of-house service, moving lightly between tables like a dancing butterfly.
Occasionally, the curtain to the kitchen was lifted, and an elderly man with gray-white hair and a slightly stooped posture would emerge carrying a steaming hot dish to the serving counter.
He was Mr. Kawasaki.
Having been here with Kaoru before, Mr. Kawasaki recognized Aina as well. When he returned with an empty tray, passing by her seat, he greeted her warmly:
“Miss Saiten, you’re here.”
Aina quickly straightened and bowed slightly, replying politely:
“Yes, sorry for the trouble.”
“Oh, no trouble at all,”
Mr. Kawasaki waved his hand, wiping sweat from his face and neck with the white towel draped over his shoulder.
His smile deepened, the wrinkles around his eyes stacking up as he said,
“It’s especially busy today. Thanks to Mr. Hoshitani here, he’s really helped us out a lot!”
Taking the opportunity, Aina casually asked a few questions about Kaoru’s shift tonight.
Hearing the answers eased the knot in her chest, and her tense shoulders relaxed a bit.
[It seems letting Kaoru work here might not have been the wrong choice after all…]
However, just as her mind began to settle, the deep blue curtain to the kitchen was abruptly lifted with a sharp swish.
A figure stepped out.
It was a woman, roughly a meter eighty tall, strikingly tall and statuesque.
She wore a simple gray sleeveless tank top, now soaked through with sweat, the dark stains tracing the firm contours of her torso.
Her shoulder-length hair was dyed a vivid blonde, strands clinging messily to her forehead and neck from the moisture.
Her face was sharply defined, with a smooth angularity; a clean, precise jawline as if meticulously sculpted.
Her nose was high and straight, and her brow bones perfectly contoured, casting subtle depth to her eye sockets.
Her eyes were especially striking—elongated, with slightly upturned corners, the irises a cold steel-gray-blue.
Her gaze was direct and piercing, as if able to see through appearances, carrying an air of fearless sharpness with a touch of lazy nonchalance.
Sweat slid down her defined jawline, along her long neck covered by a thin but distinct layer of muscle texture, finally disappearing into the deep, alluring hollow of her collarbone.
Beneath the sweat-soaked tank top, the faint outline of her wheat-colored skin was visible—no exaggerated bulges, but sleek and well-defined muscle lines, like a subtle mountain ridge, quietly radiating inner strength and tension.
The first glance from the blonde woman locked onto Kaoru Hoshitani, who was carefully wiping down an empty table not far away, as if with a targeting function.
Her eyes scanned swiftly and silently from head to toe, noting the graceful, enticing curves beneath his navy work uniform.
A flicker of instinctive, aggressive appreciation and possessiveness flashed deep within those gray-blue eyes.
But just as quickly, she restrained it well, restoring her usual cool, slightly distant calm.
She then turned her head toward the source of a piercing gaze fixed tightly on her—a woman staring back.
Her brow furrowed, a flash of confusion and irritated disturbance crossing her eyes.
[Why is this woman staring at me like that?]