The ramen shop was already quiet, with no customers left as the chef prepared to close.
That changed when the last customer arrived at this humble place, tucked away in a narrow alley most people did not even know existed.
Even so, the shop had built a loyal following.
The door slid open, and someone stepped inside.
"Ramen for one, please," she said.
The chef turned and saw a beautiful woman in her early thirties. Her short blonde hair framed her face neatly, and her hazel eyes were as bright as her hair, matching the elegant curve of her body.
She wore typical office attire: a white shirt, a black coat, and a short black skirt.
Still, he often thought those buttons were as strong as a boxer's punch, considering how they managed to hold her F-cup breasts in place.
Saionji Reika was a perfect woman. Too perfect, really, for someone like him who only owned a small ramen shop hidden in the city's back alleys.
Yet she always came for the final order, the only time they could talk freely.
"Of course, Reika. Come in," the chef said.
Reika grinned, placed her small bag on the neighboring seat, and sat in front of him, already waiting for her favorite ramen.
He knew her taste well. Reika did not like heavy flavors and preferred a light broth, making shio ramen the perfect choice.
The broth was clear. He used chicken stock, seasoned with shio tare (a mix of salt, dried kelp, dried anchovies, sake, and mirin) before adding the toppings.
Once finished, he set the bowl in front of her, and her eyes lit up.
"Thank you, Haruki. And thanks for always keeping the shop open this late."
"No need to thank me. You're the backbone of this place," he said with a grin.
Amano Haruki was a twenty-seven-year-old chef who ran this shop. He was an ordinary man with light brown hair, the color of chestnuts, and blue eyes people often said resembled his mother's.
He agreed, though admitting it always left a faint bitterness in his mouth.
His mother had loved him deeply, but she still abandoned him with his father alone.
A year later, his father remarried a beautiful woman, Kurose Sayaka, now Amano Sayaka. Through that marriage, he gained a younger sister, Amano Yura, nine years his junior, Sayaka's daughter from her previous marriage.
Then his father died when he was eighteen.
And just like that, Haruki became the primary provider of the family, relying on this shop to support them.
The woman sitting in front of him, enjoying his cooking, was also his girlfriend of six months.
They had not taken things further yet, both too busy with work, but their quiet, regular dates here were enough.
Here, they could talk more intimately, more freely. More importantly, at their age, finding a place that felt right for dates was not always easy.
"How is it? Do you enjoy it?" Haruki asked as he slid into the seat beside her.
"Of course. Your ramen is the best," she said, setting down her chopsticks and spoon before clasping her hands together. "Thank you for the meal."
He let out a quiet chuckle as he lit a cigarette. It had been a long day, and he needed it. Fortunately, Reika did not mind. If anything, she was worse than him when it came to smoking and drinking.
She pulled out her metal cigarette case and tapped one free, then lifted her finger slightly toward him.
He understood what that meant. Leaning closer, he let the tip of his cigarette meet hers, holding it there as she lit it.
For a brief moment, their faces were close.
Up this near, he could see everything. Her long blonde lashes, her thick brows, the way her large eyes held a quiet sharpness, and the firm line of her small face.
It made him think about this relationship.
It had been six months, yet it still felt closer to friendship than anything else. They did not hold hands. They did not go on proper dates. They had not crossed that line.
Not because they could not. They were already too tired.
'Maybe this is what an adult relationship looks like,' he thought. 'No burning spark or twisted stomach. Just something calm and yet… It still feels like love.'
Reika leaned back once the cigarette caught, taking a slow drag before letting the smoke slip from her lips.
"What are you thinking, Haruki?" she asked, resting her cheek lightly against her hand.
He flicked ash into the tray, watching it fall for a second before answering.
"I'm thinking about you. It's been six months… don't you ever get tired of me?"
She let out a soft laugh. "What do you mean? Why would I get tired of you?"
He gave a small shrug, eyes lowering slightly.
"You meet so many people at work. Sooner or later, you'll find someone better. Someone more handsome, kinder, richer than me—"
"Then marry me."
The words cut in cleanly making Haruki stopped.
"…So I won't think about anyone else but you," she added, as if it were the most natural conclusion in the world.
For a second, his mind went blank.
He could only stare at her, trying to process what he had just heard. Meanwhile, a faint blush began to spread across her face, creeping slowly toward her ears.
"Say something," Reika said, her brows pulling together slightly. "I just proposed to you."
"I… huh?"
That was all he managed. His heart was pounding now, loud and fast, almost drowning out his thoughts.
Of course he was happy. How could he not be?
The woman he loved had just asked to spend her life with him.
But reality came just as quickly.
Haruki's gaze drifted away, landing on the kitchen.
Old counters, stained walls that never fully came clean. The menu hung crookedly, handwritten and probably older than he was. He had not even been able to afford a proper meal ticket machine.
"But… I don't think I have enough money to make you happy," he said quietly.
He swallowed before continuing. "I still have my mother and sister to take care of. I can't afford you."
He could not bring himself to look at her, too ashamed to face what might be disappointment.
Instead, warm hands cupped his face and gently turned him back toward her.
Reika's gaze met his, steady and unwavering.
"It's fine," she said softly. "I'll take care of everything else. You just need to love me. That's enough."
"I can't do that to you… I'm a man."
"How long are you going to stay in this place?" she asked, her brows knitting together. "You have a chance to move somewhere better. To change your life. Why won't you take it?"
She pulled her hands away, reaching into her pocket before placing a card on the table between them.
Haruki picked it up and read it. His eyes widened.
Saionji Reika — Founder of Saionji Real Estate.
"So think about it carefully, Haruki," she said, her tone calmer now, but firmer. "This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance."