The following weeks were a blur of long hours, new challenges, and constant pressure in the kitchen. Ryo's days were spent juggling between perfecting his craft and trying to meet his father's impossible expectations. Yet, despite the chaos, there was something that kept pulling him back to the quiet corners of his thoughts: Miyu Asakura.
Her presence seemed to linger, even when she wasn't around. Ryo found himself watching her from the corner of his eye whenever she passed by, noting the way her expression remained so distant, almost like a mask. But there were moments, brief flashes of vulnerability, that made him wonder what lay beneath the surface.
One rainy evening, as the restaurant quieted down after a particularly busy dinner rush, Ryo was cleaning the kitchen when he saw Miyu standing by the back door, looking out at the pouring rain. Her hands were tucked into the sleeves of her uniform, and she seemed lost in thought, her usual cool demeanor softened by the quiet.
Curious, Ryo approached her, unsure of what he was going to say. He'd never spoken to her much outside of the usual pleasantries at work, but something in him urged him to break the silence.
"Miyu," he began, his voice tentative. "It's been a while since we've talked outside of work."
Miyu didn't turn to face him immediately. She simply stared out into the rain, her eyes focused on something distant. "There's nothing to talk about," she said, her voice as calm as ever. But there was something in the way she said it—something that hinted at more beneath the surface.
Ryo took a step closer, trying to push past the walls she'd built around herself. "I don't believe that. I've been watching you… and I think there's more to you than just the way you act at work."
Miyu finally turned her head to face him, her expression unreadable. "What do you think you see?"
Ryo hesitated. He hadn't really thought about it in those terms, but something deep within him compelled him to speak the truth. "I see someone who hides behind a mask. Someone who might not be as indifferent as they want others to think."
For a moment, there was silence between them. Ryo wondered if he had crossed a line. But Miyu's eyes softened slightly, though she quickly masked it with her usual distant expression.
"I don't have time for things like that," she replied quietly. "My life isn't about getting close to anyone. I'm just here to do my job."
Ryo felt a pang in his chest. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but the coldness in her voice stung more than he anticipated. Still, he wasn't ready to back down. There was something in her words that made him want to know more, to understand the pain she was keeping hidden.
"I think you're wrong," he said softly, his gaze meeting hers with an intensity he couldn't control. "I think that, deep down, you want more than this—more than just existing. And maybe… just maybe, you're afraid of what would happen if you let someone in."
Miyu's eyes flickered for a moment, but she quickly turned away, crossing her arms. "You don't know anything about me, Ryo," she said, her tone firm, but there was a slight tremor in her voice. "You think you can fix people by showing them kindness, but sometimes, people don't want to be fixed."
Ryo wasn't sure where the words were coming from, but he knew one thing: he wasn't going to give up on her. Even if she shut him out, he would find a way to reach her. There was something in Miyu, something hidden deep inside, that called to him.
"I'm not trying to fix you," Ryo said, his voice steady now. "I just want to understand you… because, for some reason, I can't stop thinking about you."
Miyu froze for a moment, her back still turned to him. The rain outside seemed to grow louder, as if emphasizing the weight of the moment. Finally, she spoke again, her voice barely a whisper.
"You should stop," she murmured. "It'll only hurt you in the end."
But Ryo shook his head. "I don't mind the hurt. As long as I can get to know the real you."
There was a long pause, and for the first time, Miyu seemed to hesitate. Her walls were still up, but Ryo could feel that the cracks were starting to show. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, something had shifted between them.
Miyu didn't say anything more. Instead, she turned and walked away, back into the restaurant, leaving Ryo standing in the quiet rain. He didn't know where this path would lead, but one thing was clear: he couldn't turn back now.
Miyu might try to push him away, but Ryo wasn't about to give up on someone who was clearly worth the effort. Little did he know, this was just the beginning of a journey that would test both his heart and his passion for cooking.