Hinata's head nearly dipped into the snow beneath her.
Shirakumo Aoba couldn't see her expression, but from the faint pink at her ear tips, he sensed her embarrassment. He could almost imagine smoke drifting from her bowed head. Was it really that awkward? Thinking of Hinata's shy nature, he guessed it must be.
"Gurgle…."
After a long moment—still no sign of the Hyuga guards—Hinata's stomach rumbled again.
"Ugh…"
Aoba sighed.
"Y-you're…sorry?"
Hinata glanced up, worried her presence displeased him.
"Do you…have money?"
"Y-yes, I do!"
She hurriedly fumbled in her little bag, ready to hand over coins.
"Stop, stop! I'm not here for your money."
Aoba hastily stopped her. Hinata had clearly misunderstood—though he did want funds, now wasn't the time.
"Let's go eat ramen together."
Aoba briefly considered inviting her back to his nearby home, but with Hinata's healthy appetite, he'd need far more ingredients than he kept. And as the Hyuga heiress, she certainly wasn't short on coins.
"Uh?" Hinata froze, head lifted, only to see Aoba's retreating back.
"Follow me."
"Oh…okay."
Not knowing how to decline, Hinata carefully trailed behind him.
"Um…excuse me…" she ventured.
"Hm?"
Aoba paused, scanning the snow—there wasn't a mosquito in sight. Then he realized Hinata was speaking. "Are you talking?"
Hinata instinctively looked away, but steadied herself and met his gaze.
"I-I'm Hyuga Hinata…"
Her voice was soft, almost clingy—one almost wanted to tease her gently.
"I'm Shirakumo Aoba."
With that, he turned and led the way. A few steps later he asked, "You're from the Hyuga clan, so you must be strong—why did those three bullies target you?"
Hinata hadn't expected Aoba to speak; her confession tumbled out. "M-My father taught me to be kind to everyone in the village."
"They weren't kind to you."
"That's because…"
"Because you're too easy to push around?" Aoba interrupted bluntly. Hinata's cheeks flushed again.
"Your father told you to be kind, not to let people beat you up without fighting back. If you stay like this, I might have helped you today, but next time they'll bully you again—and who'll you wait for then?"
"I think even your father would be disappointed if he knew you let them push you around without resisting."
That last remark hit home. Hinata thought of her father's disappointed frowns and clenched her small fists.
After a long pause, her soft voice emerged, still halting: "I-I…won't let it happen again."
"I hope so."
Aoba shrugged. Whether she heeded his words was up to her.
As they spoke, they arrived at a noodle shop. Aoba read the sign: "Ichiraku Ramen," and stepped inside with Hinata.
"Welcome!" called the crisp, cheerful voice of Ayame. By the time they'd settled into a corner, she was before them.
"It's Aoba-kun—oh! This must be your new little girlfriend."
Ayame clearly knew Aoba. Hearing her tease, he rolled his eyes.
"I've told you, she's not a 'girlfriend,' just a friend. Pure friendship."
Hinata didn't know what "girlfriend" meant, only that the older woman's gaze felt odd. She lowered her head, shy.
"Aoba-kun, I worry you'll get stabbed one day—novels say scumbag men meet tragic ends, lost heads and all."
Ayame adopted a solemn expression, as though sharing heartfelt advice. But Aoba cut in.
"I'll have your signature tonkotsu ramen."
"Hinata, what would you like?" Ayame asked.
"Er…I'll have the same as Aoba-kun," Hinata replied in her soft voice, surprised—her first time dining out.
"Two bowls of signature ramen, then," Aoba confirmed.
"Right away."
With the dinner rush on, Ayame greeted other customers as she hurried back to the kitchen.
Soon two steaming bowls appeared. Aoba slid Hinata's toward her; the rich aroma enveloped her.
"Thank you…I'll start now."
Hinata pressed her palms together in thanks and dove in. Aoba abandoned all formalities and slurped with delight.
Mmm!
So good!
Hinata's eyes lit up. Part of it was her hunger—but the ramen truly was delicious. At home, her meals were balanced and mild; heavy-flavored dishes like this were rare treats.
One bowl vanished quickly. Hinata stared at her empty bowl, blinking. She unconsciously licked her cherry-soft, oil-streaked lips. The thought of ordering another bowl flickered in her mind—but she shook her head. Such manners were unseemly outside her home.
Aoba, still savoring his noodles, noticed her hesitation. He set down his chopsticks, thoughtful.
"Hinata…"
"Are you full?" he asked quietly.
"I…I…" Hinata froze, then timidly raised her head. She wanted to say she was full—she'd never eaten so much at home. Eating more might seem strange.
Yet Aoba's earnest gaze made her falter.
Aoba's expression grew more serious. Hinata summoned courage but hesitated—though shy, she felt a warm happiness. It was the first time someone had noticed she hadn't eaten enough.
"N-no, I'm not full," she whispered. Aoba's face broke into a gentle smile.
"How many more bowls do you need?"
"…"
Hinata tugged at her sleeve, wanting to speak less but afraid to disappoint him. With no guards around, surely one more bowl wouldn't matter…
"Four…four more bowls."