Next door, a large plate held ten small, battered fish, each shaped like a flat ball.
The batter was golden brown, with some parts slightly cracked, revealing the white flesh within.
A faint savory aroma wafted through the aroma of the fried chicken, clinging to the ends of their hair.
A few fresh celery leaves and thinly sliced red chili peppers served as a simple garnish, adding color to the dominant golden yellow of the fried food, as if tempting their eyes before their hands reached for the chili sauce in the corner of the table.
Beside the table, four clear glass glasses were neatly lined up. The first glass held iced sweet tea, its brownish color, the ice flakes slowly melting, drops of water clinging to the back of Tetsu's hand as he idly touched the side of the glass.
The second glass was filled with chilled apple juice, a pale green color, with a few floating ice cubes reflecting the light, creating a slight refraction on the table's surface.
The last two glasses were filled with iced milk, pure white with a thin foam on the surface, its cool dewdrops seeping out, splashing onto the crumbs of flour nearby.
The atmosphere around the simple table was warm. Their breaths mingled in the stale air, the sound of plates clattering against spoons, and Tetsu's low laughter mimicking the sound of his stomach growling.
The midday sun slowly tilted, shining from the entrance onto the table, casting long shadows on the wooden floor.
The smell of fried chicken and fish, mixed with the sweet tea and fresh apple juice, made anyone who passed near the table salivate. The wooden chairs around them shifted slowly, making a low creak.
Aoki reached for the bottle of chili sauce on the corner of the table—a glass bottle with a sticky lid that was slightly stuck when turned. Then Aoki opened it with one hand, brought it to his nose, and sniffed briefly, ensuring the spicy aroma was still fresh and sharp.
After that, Aoki poured a little chili sauce on the edge of the plate, right next to the fried chicken and steaming white rice. Aoki took a spoon, scooped up a sufficient amount of rice, then dipped a piece of chicken in the chili sauce, placed it on top of the rice, and slowly brought it to his mouth—a simple, rhythmic movement typical of someone hungry but still eager to savor every flavor.
Tetsu leaned slightly, eyeing a small, crispy piece of fried fish. Tetsu pressed the tip of the fish with his index finger, testing its satisfying crunchiness with the soft cracking sound under his finger.
Then, with the spoon, Tetsu scooped up the rice, placed the piece of fish on top, and fed it to him without much thought. At first glance, his movements seemed casual, but there was a hidden pleasure in the way his eyes narrowed slightly after the first bite.
Mei sat calmly, her hands deftly cutting the chicken with a spoon and fork. Mei, on the other hand, took her time. The small pieces were neatly arranged on the side of the plate.
Mei scooped up a spoonful of rice, scooped up a piece of the sliced chicken, and then ate it—her facial expression remained unchanged, but a slight twitch of her brow indicated that she enjoyed the taste.
Ajisai, on the other hand, seemed slower than the others. She cut the chicken with slow, careful movements, as if ensuring every fiber of the meat was perfectly separated.
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