Chapter 5: The Starving Girl
The girl's voice was not as weak or fearful as everyone imagined given her tattered appearance. It was merely calm—extraordinarily so. Her voice lacked the clear, high-pitched crispness associated with most teenage girls; instead, it possessed a magnetic, low timbre, raspy from disuse and smoke inhalation.
She stood in the center of the restaurant, a stark contrast to the polished wood and warm lights. The girl surveyed her surroundings, her gaze lingering on the strange, magical lights (electricity) and the pristine state of the furniture.
She frowned, her hand tightening on the grip of her broken runic blade. "Where... is this?"
Ren wiped his hands on a clean towel, stepping out from behind the counter. He maintained a safe distance, his body language non-threatening. He smiled and said, "This is a Restaurant."
The girl paused, blinking slowly as if processing a foreign concept. She asked, confused, "A... Restaurant?"
"It's an eating place~" Ren clarified, using a simpler term. "A place where people come to trade coin for cooked food."
Hearing this, the girl nodded in understanding. The concept of an inn or a tavern was universal, even if this place looked like a palace compared to the muddy taverns of Noxus.
She observed Ren closely. He didn't look like a warrior, yet he moved with a silent grace that set her instincts on edge. But she was too exhausted to analyze it further.
She frowned and asked the most important question. "What do you have to eat here?"
Ren tilted his head, his silver hair shifting. "Anything you want to eat can be made here, as long as we have the ingredients. What would you like to eat?"
The girl thought for a moment. Her mind was blank of specific dishes. In the wilds of Ionia, or the war camps of Noxus, there were no menus. There was only survival.
Finally, she said, her voice hoarse, "I want soup. And meat. A lot of meat."
Ren was slightly surprised; that was certainly a simple, primal request. It spoke volumes about her condition. Ren nodded, his expression softening. "Alright. Please find a seat and wait. Your dish will be served very soon."
The girl nodded, then scanned the room for a strategic position. She ignored the comfortable center tables and found a corner table that offered a clear view of the entrance and the kitchen—a vantage point where no one could attack her from behind.
She sat down heavily. The broken sword in her hand was placed on the table beside her, not on the floor, as if she was ready to strike down anyone who approached at any moment.
Her eyes were as sharp as a sword, as discerning as an eagle.
Amou Kirukiru, the "Empress" of Private Aichi Symbiosis Academy, looked at the girl from her own table. A chill ran down her spine. She had a premonition that this woman—this broken, dirty soldier—could kill her in an instant, and she wouldn't even be able to draw her sword.
Who is she? Kirukiru wondered, her grip on her fork tightening. And can Ren defeat her if she goes crazy?
At this moment, the Restaurant became quiet again. The only sounds were the sizzling from the kitchen and the soft chewing of Rindou and Momo.
The girl's eyes occasionally scanned her surroundings, jumping at the sound of the refrigerator humming or the clink of silverware. She was certain that she was definitely not in Ionia or Noxus. The mana in the air was thin, almost non-existent, yet the technology—or magic—was advanced.
She was still extremely cautious. Exile had taught her that safety was an illusion.
After some time, Ren walked out of the kitchen. He wasn't carrying her meal yet. Instead, he balanced a tray with a Napoleon Cake and a Strawberry Parfait for Momo and Rindou.
The girl looked up at him. Seeing the delicate layers of pastry and the vibrant red strawberries sitting atop the ice cream, she was momentarily stunned. She had truly never seen such exquisite food. It looked like jewelry, not sustenance.
Ren delivered the desserts, then returned to the kitchen. He came back to the girl's table with a simple cup of warm water and a packet of wet wipes. He placed them gently in front of her.
The girl paused, looking at him in confusion. She stared at the white packet.
Ren smiled gently. "You must be very tired, and your lips are chapped. Drink some water to moisten your mouth first. Also, wipe your hands. They're beautiful hands, don't let them be covered in dust forever~"
The girl eyed the cup warily. Was it poisoned? A sleeping draught?
Ren understood her hesitation. He tilted his head, picked up the cup, took a small sip, and swallowed. He then placed it back down, wiping the rim with a napkin.
"I don't know where you come from, but you must have suffered a lot. Get some good rest~ There's no danger here. No enemies. Just food."
After saying that, Ren turned to leave, giving her space.
The girl thought for a moment, watching his retreating back. Then, her trembling hand reached for the cup. The warmth radiated through the ceramic, seeping into her cold fingers.
When she touched the cup, she froze. She brought it to her lips and took a sip.
"This is... hot water?" she murmured in a deep voice.
Ren, who had paused nearby, nodded. "That's right~ Drinking cold water on an empty, starved stomach would cause cramps. This will warm your stomach beforehand."
Ren left after saying that to tend to the stove.
She looked at the warm water in front of her with some strangeness. In the army, hot water was for cleaning wounds or boiling questionable meat. Drinking plain, clean hot water felt like a luxury she didn't deserve.
Just as Ren said, she was already very tired and extremely hungry. During her exile, let alone warm water, she often drank from muddy streams or rain puddles.
She drank deeply, the heat spreading through her chest, thawing the ice that had settled around her heart. She relaxed a bit, her shoulders dropping an inch.
Next, she tentatively picked up the wet wipes. She sniffed the packet—it smelled of lemon and antiseptic. She figured out how to open it and pulled out a moist cloth.
She wiped her hands. The dirt and dried blood came away, revealing pale skin underneath. The girl's hands were not fair or soft like the girls at the other table. They were calloused, scarred, and strong. Swordsman's hands.
The girl looked at her hands; it was the first time anyone had told her her hands were beautiful. Usually, they were called "deadly" or "cursed."
Ren, while cooking, listened to the sounds of the dining room. He heard Kobayashi Rindou laughing and Akanegakubo Momo making small noises of delight. A smile appeared on his face. For a chef, nothing brings more joy than having their dishes appreciated.
"Ren, I..." Amou Kirukiru started to speak up from her table.
Hearing Amou Kirukiru's voice, Ren walked out of the kitchen, carrying a serving of Boeuf Bourguignon (Burgundy Red Wine Stewed Beef) and the glass of juice.
Ren set them down in front of the black-haired girl and said with a smile, cutting her off, "Student Kirukiru. Just eat your meal, don't talk. Don't think about anything. Your mind is too loud."
After saying that, he turned and left.
Kobayashi Rindou was already laughing uncontrollably, clutching her stomach. "He shut you down again, Kiru-chan!"
Amou Kirukiru's mouth twitched as she held her fork. She really wanted to stab this person whom she both loved and hated. But the smell of the beef—rich with wine and herbs—pacified her immediately.
Humming a tune, Ren secretly glanced at the white-haired girl in the corner. She was staring at the wet wipe wrapper, folding it into shapes.
He returned to the kitchen. He placed a whole chicken in the oven—he had already prepped it with butter and herbs—and began chopping vegetables for the soup.
He was preparing the girl's meal with a specific intent. It was clear to the naked eye how long it had been since she had eaten a proper meal. Her cheeks were hollow, her eyes sunken.
So, he chose a very generous portion. She wasn't like Kobayashi Rindou and the others, who came to enjoy the art of cuisine; this girl was here to survive. She needed calories, fat, and warmth.
A faint scent of cream and roasting meat wafted from the kitchen.
Kobayashi Rindou, who was chatting with Akanegakubo Momo about school gossip, paused. She blinked, sniffing the air like a cat. "Oh! It smells so good! Is he making something new?"
Akanegakubo Momo also sniffed, her nose wrinkling. "Hmm~ good cheese... and the taste of white wine. This is a very delicious dish, a very warm taste. Like a mother's cooking."
The white-haired girl's nose also twitched. She looked bewildered. She smelled a very fragrant aroma, one that triggered a primal hunger she had been suppressing for weeks. It smelled of safety.
The aroma grew stronger and stronger. The girl's stomach rumbled loudly—a growl that rivaled a beast's. She blushed beneath the grime, clutching her stomach. If she hadn't taken a sip of water earlier to regain some energy, she would have wondered if she was hallucinating from starvation.
"This is your Creamy Vegetable Pork Soup. The other dish will be ready soon, please wait a moment."
Ren appeared, placing a large, deep bowl on her table.
The girl looked at the steaming, milky-white soup in front of her and swallowed hard. The rich milky aroma went straight to her nose. It was filled with chunks of potatoes, carrots, and tender pork belly. The portion was generous, enough for two grown men.
The girl took a spoon. Her hand shook slightly. She poked the soup, then scooped a spoonful and slowly brought it to her mouth.
The first sensation was heat; she hadn't expected it to be so hot. Then came the flavor.
Cream. Salt. Savory pork fat. The sweetness of carrots.
"Mmm..."
The girl drank the soup spoon after spoon, faster and faster. The wariness in her eyes subsided, replaced by a singular focus on the bowl. A place that could make such delicious food would never be a trap. Evil men did not cook like this.
As the girl was scraping the bottom of the bowl, a rich, roasted aroma wafted over, even more fragrant than the soup.
The girl looked up and saw Ren carrying a large silver platter. On it sat a perfectly roasted chicken, its skin golden-brown and crispy, surrounded by roasted potatoes and tomatoes.
After Ren set down the roasted chicken, he said with a smile, "French Roasted Whole Chicken (Poulet Rôti). So, all the meat and soup you wanted are served. Please enjoy."
With that, he retreated to a stool behind the counter and began reading a book, giving her the dignity of eating without an audience.
The girl glanced at Ren, then looked at the roasted chicken in front of her. It was beautiful.
Finally, the rich aroma made her lose her composure.
She picked up a steak knife and cut a piece of the thigh. Clear juices flowed down the knife, and the steam rose up, carrying the scent of rosemary and garlic.
She took a bite.
Her pupils suddenly contracted. The skin shattered, the meat melted. It was overwhelming.
She put the knife aside. It was too slow.
She reached out with her bare hands—now clean thanks to the wipes—and tore a drumstick off the chicken.
She ate.
Although her eating style was barbaric, tearing into the meat like a wolf, the girl looked somewhat cute as she ate. Her cheeks were stuffed like a hamster's, but her hands kept moving with efficiency. She occasionally paused to take a sip of the remaining soup broth.
Ren looked at the girl's eating habits from over the top of his book and smiled, shaking his head.
Riven, the Exile, he thought, recognizing the character. She must have come straight from the battlefields of Ionia.
After eating the last tomato used as a side dish around the roasted chicken, the girl let out a long sigh of relief. She slumped back in her chair.
This was the most peaceful, delicious, and filling meal she had ever eaten since birth. Even in the glory days of Noxus, rations never tasted like this.
Ren walked over, handing her a fresh glass of water and another warm, wet towel.
"It seems to suit your taste. Drink some water to wash it down~ Here's the towel for your face and hands."
The girl took the towel gratefully. She wiped the grease from her face and hands. The warmth of the towel felt like a blessing.
When she lowered the towel, her face was clean. Beneath the layer of grime was a striking young woman with pale skin and intense crimson eyes. Her beauty—sharp, tragic, and strong—even made Kobayashi Rindou take a second look from across the room.
Ren smiled and said, "Hmm. You really do look much prettier when you're clean."
The girl frowned, her guard going up slightly at the compliment. "You speak as if you know me. Do you know who I am?"
Ren tilted his head and said naturally, "I know. You are a customer~"
The girl was stunned. She expected him to say "A Noxian," or "A murderer," or "An exile." But just... a customer?
She said nothing more, looking down at her hands.
Ren smiled and said, "Drink some water and rest. You can sit for as long as you like. We don't close until the last customer leaves."
Suddenly, a loud voice broke the moment.
"Ren! I want strawberries! And ice cream! More of it!"
Kobayashi Rindou was waving her empty parfait glass.
Ren sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I'm really at my wit's end with you You want another Strawberry Parfait, don't you"
"If you know, then hurry up! Do I have to say it myself! How annoying! And put extra sprinkles on it this time!"
Ren rolled his eyes. He really did take good care of Kobayashi Rindou, spoiling her rotten.
After sighing, he returned to the kitchen to get more strawberry ice cream for the demanding Second Seat.
He glanced back at Riven.
This girl... there was a hint of a child showing off her toys in Rindou's behavior, trying to lighten the mood for the newcomer. Perhaps the dimensional restaurant was working its magic already.
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