"Is this sweet and sour pork? It's amazing!"
"This twice-cooked pork is unbelievably good!"
"And these soup dumplings… they're incredible!"
Akizuki Rina, Sakura Yuki, and Hikigaya Komachi spoke almost at the same time, their voices overlapping as their chopsticks never stopped moving. Their eyes sparkled with excitement, completely unhidden as they tasted one dish after another.
Opposite to them, Shimizu Saori ate quietly and gracefully. Her posture was straight, her movements unhurried. She did not exclaim like the others, but the slight softening of her expression and the subtle pause between bites made it clear—she, too, was impressed.
Akira Fujimiya sat calmly beside her.
He looked at the dishes placed before him, steam still rising faintly from them. These were not the exaggerated creations designed for competition nor were their any unnecessary things to make it look more beautiful.
They were simple.
They were familiar.
They were unmistakably dishes from his hometown.
Sweet and sour pork, twice-cooked pork, soup dumplings, spicy tofu—ordinary dishes, prepared with extraordinary care.
The moment he lifted his chopsticks and tasted the food, something stirred within him.
The God Tongue—the refined sensory ability that allowed him to perceive not only flavor but intent—responded instantly.
This wasn't just food.
This was longing.
This was sincerity.
This was Kazami Nana's most genuine emotion as a chef, woven directly into her cooking.
She wanted Akira Fujimiya to taste the flavor of his hometown.
Not as a showpiece.
Not as a competition entry.
But as comfort.
Akira slowly exhaled and let his gaze drift across the restaurant.
Near the corner, an office worker sat alone at a small table. In front of him were several hometown dishes similar to Akira's. After taking a few bites, the man suddenly stopped, placed his chopsticks down, and wiped the corner of his eyes.
Tears had formed without him realizing it.
He didn't sob or make a scene.
He simply picked up his bowl of rice afterward and continued eating, smiling softly as if something heavy in his chest had finally been eased.
Not far away, an international student had ordered spicy tofu and twice-cooked pork, paired with a generous serving of rice. His phone was propped up against a cup, a video call open.
He was speaking in his native language, excitedly explaining about the Restaurant to his family.
"The prices are higher than back home," he said (Chinese), laughing, "but compared to restaurants here, it's really cheap. And it tastes just like home."
At that moment, the restaurant door opened again.
A middle-aged man walked in, his steps measured, his expression restrained.
The restaurant manager noticed him immediately and walked to the counter, retrieving a neatly wrapped bag.
The man glanced inside the bag, nodded silently, and without a word took out several ten-thousand-yen bills.
The manager instinctively tried to refuse.
"Sir, that's too much—"
But the man simply placed the money on the counter, turned around, and left without looking back.
The manager sighed softly, watching his retreating figure.
Akira stood and approached her.
"What was that?" he asked quietly.
The manager hesitated briefly, then answered honestly.
"Zongzi," she said. "Three days ago, that customer came in and asked if we served zongzi from his hometown. We didn't have any at the time."
{T/N: Zongzi (粽子) are traditional Chinese sticky rice dumplings, made with glutinous rice and various fillings, wrapped in bamboo or reed leaves, and cooked by steaming or boiling; they are famously eaten during the Dragon Boat Festival}
She paused, then continued.
"After Miss Kazami spoke with him, she asked him to wait. She personally went out to buy all the ingredients and made an entire pot herself."
Akira fell silent.
His gaze shifted toward the kitchen.
.....
When Akira and the others had already left the restaurant, the manager returned to the kitchen.
She approached Kazami Nana and handed her a folded piece of paper.
"These were left behind," she said. "From Akira-sama."
Kazami Nana wiped her hands clean, unfolded the paper, and began reading.
Her expression froze.
Each line contained precise observations—subtle adjustments to seasoning, balance, texture, timing.
These weren't casual comments.
They were master-level evaluations.
Advice that could only come from someone with an extraordinarily refined palate.
"This…" she murmured. "These opinions… they're too detailed."
She looked up sharply.
"Are you sure Akira-sama wrote this?"
The manager replied, "Akira-sama said it was advice from the 'God Tongue.'"
Kazami Nana's breath caught.
"The God Tongue…? Nakiri Erina-sama?"
But Erina Nakiri hadn't come.
Then—
A bold realization struck her.
'Could it be… that Akira Fujimiya also possesses the God Tongue?'
The thought sent a shiver down her spine.
.....
After finishing their meal, Akizuki Rina and Sakura Yuki received a call from the office.
They stood, thanked Akira politely, and left together.
Hikigaya Komachi lingered behind, glancing between Akira and Shimizu Saori with a knowing smile.
"Well then, Akira nii-san," Komachi said cheerfully, "Komachi won't disturb you any longer."
"You're very considerate," Akira replied with a smile.
He casually reached out and took Shimizu Saori's hand.
Komachi turned away, waving as she left.
Shimizu Saori watched her go, then looked at Akira beside her.
"You and Komachi…" she began.
"Komachi is just cute," Akira said. "That's all."
He opened the car door as he spoke.
Saori entered without another word.
Akira sat beside her.
"Want to go somewhere?" he asked.
"I want to go home," she replied quietly.
Akira understood immediately.
Shimizu Saori did not like wasting time.
.....
The car hummed smoothly through the quiet streets, city lights flickering past the windows like distant stars.
Akira kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting lightly on Saori's thigh, feeling the subtle tension in her slender frame.
She sat with her legs crossed, her indifferent demeanor a contrast to the knowing glance she'd shared with him earlier.
The air between them crackled with unspoken anticipation—Saori's directness in wanting to head home spoke volumes.
She wasn't one for detours; when she desired something, she pursued it without delay.
.....
Saori Shimizu House—
As Akira parked, she unlocked the door with efficient movements, leading him inside without a word.
The living room was dimly lit, a single lamp casting soft shadows over the sparse furniture. She took off her shoes, turning to face him, her usual indifferent expression—but her eyes carried anticipation.
"Make yourself comfortable," she said, her voice steady as she headed toward her bedroom.
Akira nodded, shedding his jacket and loosening his tie, settling onto the edge of the couch.
He could hear the rustle of fabric from the other room, the soft click of a drawer.
Minutes passed, and then Saori emerged, transformed!
She'd changed into sexy lingerie that clung to her slender body like a second skin—a sheer black lace set that accentuated every curve and hollow. The bra cupped her small breasts perfectly, the fabric translucent enough to reveal the pink nipples beneath, already pebbled with arousal. With a matching thong rode high on her hips, framing her round heart-shaped ass, the cheeks full and inviting under the thin straps. Her thighs, toned and smooth, pressed together as she stood in the doorway, one hand on the frame, posing subtly to tempt him. Her dark hair fell loosely over her shoulders, and her eyes locked onto his with a bold intensity that belied her usual reserve.
Akira's gaze raked over her, his cock stirring in his pants at the sight. "Saori... you look incredible," he murmured, standing slowly and closing the distance.
She didn't shy away; instead, she stepped forward, her small breasts brushing his chest as she tilted her head up for a kiss.
Kiss!
Slurp!
Their lips met in a slow burn—his firm and exploring, hers parting eagerly to let his tongue slip inside.
She tasted faintly of the lunch they had just now, sweet and tart, her own tongue tangling with his in wet slides that made her hum softly.
Saori's hands roamed up his arms, nails grazing his skin as she pressed closer, her slender body molding to his broader frame. The kiss deepened, turning hungry; she nipped at his lower lip, sucking it into her mouth with a needy pull that drew a low groan from him.
Akira's hands found her waist, thumbs tracing the lace edges before sliding up to cup her small breasts through the bra.
He squeezed gently, feeling the soft give of her flesh, her pink nipples hardening further under his palms. Saori broke the kiss with a gasp, arching into his touch.
"Touch me more... I want your mouth on them," she whispered, her voice breathy but commanding.
He obliged without hesitation, unhooking the bra with a flick and letting it fall away.
Her small breasts were pert and perfect, pink nipples standing out like invitations.
Suck! Suck! Slurp!
Akira leaned down, capturing one in his mouth, sucking hard with a wet slurp that made her knees buckle.
Slurp! Slurp!
Bite!
His tongue swirled around the bud, flicking it rapidly before grazing his teeth over it—biting just enough to sting, eliciting a sharp "Ah!" from her lips.
Saori's hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer as he lavished attention on her chest, before switching to the other nipple with the same fervor.
"Yes... bite harder," she moaned, her body trembling.
He complied, teeth sinking in with controlled pressure, tugging the sensitive peak until it throbbed red. Saliva glistened on her skin, her small breasts heaving with each ragged breath.
Saori's thighs rubbed together, her arousal soaking through the thong, the scent of her wetness faint but intoxicating in the air.
Saori pulled away slightly, her eyes dark with lust as she stare at him.
She turned, dropping to all fours on the plush rug in the living room, her round heart-shaped ass presented high.
The thong bisected her cheeks, the fabric damp and clinging to her folds. She looked back over her shoulder, shaking her ass deliberately—left to right, the flesh jiggling enticingly, thighs parting to reveal the outline of her pussy.
"Come on, Akira... ravage me. I know you want too," she tempted, her voice husky, ass swaying like a siren's call.
Akira's control snapped.
He stripped quickly, his thick, curved cock springing free—eight inches of rigid heat, veins pulsing, pre-cum beading at the tip.
He knelt behind her, hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, yanking the thong aside.
Her pussy was neat and slick, lips puffy and glistening. Without preamble, he thrust forward, the head breaching her entrance with a wet pop. Saori cried out,
"Oh fuck... yes!", her walls clenching around the intrusion as he sank deep in one go.
The stretch burned deliciously, her slender body yielding to his girth.
Akira didn't hold back—hips snapping forward in rough, hardcore drives that made her ass ripple with each impact.
Plap! Plap! Plap!
Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap!
Plap! Plap!
The sound echoed sharply, his balls slapping her clit rhythmically. Saori moaned heavily, pushing back to meet him, her small breasts swaying beneath her.
"Harder... fuck me like you mean it!" she demanded, voice breaking into gasps.
He ravaged her relentlessly, one hand tangling in her hair to pull her head back, arching her spine.
Schlick! Schlick! Schlick!
The angle drove him deeper, the curve of his cock dragging her inner walls with every plunge, juices coating his shaft and dripping down her thighs.
Saori's heavy moans filled the room, "Ahh... nngh! So deep... don't stop!"
Her round ass cheeks reddened from the slaps of his hips, the heart shape bouncing hypnotically.
Akira reached around, fingers finding her clit—small and swollen—and rubbing in firm circles.
She bucked wildly, walls fluttering like a tight fist around him.
"You're so wet... gripping me like a virgin," he grunted, pounding faster, sweat slicking their skin.
The air grew thick with the musk of sex, her arousal sharp and heady. Saori's body tensed, heavy moans turning to screams,
"Cumming... oh god, yes!"
Her pussy spasmed violently, squirting hot fluids that splashed his thighs, soaking the rug.
He fucked through her climax, thrusts brutal and unyielding, her overstimulation making her thrash and wail.
"Too much... but more! Ravish me!", she begged, ass shaking anew. Akira's free hand spanked her cheek—
Slap!
The sting making her clench tighter, milking his cock. He felt his own release building, balls tightening, but pulled out suddenly, flipping her onto her back for more.
Plap! Plap! Plap!
Saori's slender legs wrapped his waist immediately, pulling him back in. Missionary now, he pinned her wrists above her head, slamming down with full weight, her small breasts jiggling, as her pink nipples scraped by his chest hair.
She moaned heavily into his mouth as he kissed her roughly, tongues battling amid the frenzy. "Bite my nipples again... while you fuck me," she begged, panting between thrusts.
Akira released her wrists, mouth descending to latch onto a nipple—sucking hard, teeth grazing as he pounded her pussy.
The dual assault had her arching off the floor, heavy moans muffled against his shoulder,
"Mmmph... yes! Harder on both!"
Her thighs quivered, round ass lifting to take him deeper, the curve of his cock hitting her G-spot repeatedly. Juices squelched with each drive, her walls rippling in aftershocks.
....
They rolled, Saori ending up on top, but Akira took control—hands on her hips, bouncing her roughly on his cock.
Her slender body undulated, small breasts bouncing, ass slapping his thighs,
Plap! Plap! Plap!
She leaned forward, offering her nipples again; he sucked and bit, drawing blood-tinged moans from her.
"Your cock... filling me so good... ravaging my pussy like a hungry beast!"
Heavy breathing mingled with her cries, sweat dripping between them.
Climax built up again—hers crashing first, pussy convulsing in tight spasms, squirting around his base.
"Aaaah! Cumming again!"
Akira thrust up savagely, flipping her to doggy once more, railing her from behind until he buried deep, cock pulsing as he came—hot ropes flooding her depths, walls milking every spurt.
"Fuck... take it all," he growled, spanking her ass red.
They collapsed, but Saori's tempting nature persisted.
After catching breath, she crawled between his legs, mouth enveloping his somewhat-softening cock—sucking clean with slutty slurps, tongue lapping cum and her juices.
She and He both knew that this wasn't the end.
Saori is going to make up for all the time she miss him!
.....
Night fell.
Inside Shimizu Saori's bedroom, Akira was awakened by the ringing of his phone.
He glanced at the screen.
Yukinoshita Haruno.
He answered.
"Do you have time to have dinner with me?" Haruno's voice rang out casually.
"Of course," Akira said, glancing at Saori beside him as he sat up. "Where?"
"Yukino-chan's apartment."
There was a brief pause.
"I'll be there," Akira said.
He ended the call and turned to see Saori already awake.
"Go," she said calmly. "I'm already satisfied."
"Next time, let's go shopping," Akira said instinctively.
"Shopping is inefficient," Saori replied. "There's no need for meaningless affection. You've already given me what I want."
Akira looked at her.
"Then what about what I want?"
"...."
Saori fell silent.
Akira reached out and held her hand.
"How about we spend some times...with clothes on for a change," he said softly.
"I understand," she replied quietly. "I'll listen to you."
There was tenderness in her eyes.
Akira kissed her forehead lightly and left.
.....
When Akira arrived at Yukinoshita Yukino's apartment, the smell of barbecue filled the air.
He changed his shoes and entered the living room.
Yukinoshita Haruno sat on the couch, beer in hand, wearing a sailor uniform!
Akira froze.
"Why are you wearing Yukino's clothes?" he asked.
"I thought you'd like it," Haruno replied with a grin. "We can go to her room later."
"As expected of you," Akira muttered, his lips twitching.
There are really not many good sisters like this!
He sat next to Yukinoshita Haruno and picked up a skewer of barbecue.
After tasting it, Akira instantly understood where this barbecue came from.
"Mr. Akira, You smell like perfume," Yukinoshita Haruno opened a can of beer for Akira and smelled it.
"If you hadn't called, I'd be asleep," Akira replied plainly.
"Which girl?" Haruno asked.
"...You don't need to know, not yet..."
"As long as it's not Meguri Shiromeguri," Haruno said calmly. "She hasn't graduated yet. If something unexpected happens, it will affect her future."
"You care about her that much?"
"She's a friend worth remembering."
"It's not her."
Haruno smiled.
"How was the barbecue made by Miss Nana?"
"It has a very flavorful taste."
Yukinoshita Haruno smiled.
When she went there, she tried the barbecue at a barbecue stall and found that the taste of the two sides was very different.
After knowing about Sazenka.
She just wanted her to help her make the exact same taste.
She did not disappoint her expectations.
"Akira, cheers." Yukinoshita Haruno raised the beer can in her hand.
Clink!
Akira also raised his beer can and clinked it with hers,
Afterwards, the two talked about work and Akira and them.
The reason why Yukinoshita Haruno thought of inviting Akira to a barbecue was that she wanted him to drink a few more glasses with her, talk more, and get to know him better.
Unfortunately, she overlooked one thing.
That is, Akira alcohol tolerance is not bad.
{T/N: it was not high at first, when he was just transported to this world but it increase as he drink with others and also because of his second ability—}
.....
Later, as dawn arrived, Haruno woke with a headache.
She stared at the ceiling.
"…So I got drunk."
She had no memory of what she said.
No memory of how she returned to her room.
Only the lingering scent of barbecue and beer.
...
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Bonus Chapter:-
4 Bonus chapter at 100 powerstone
6 Bonus Chapter at 150 powerstone
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Word Count — 2,986