I was looking around like crazy while Sena and Genta gave the order. While my previous life had much more advanced and well-built buildings, a cleaner and more organized world in general, it was still incredible to see such beauty in this one. The restaurant looked and smelled incredible. It had that atmosphere that's impossible to replicate in modern restaurants, the kind that mostly feels soulless.
Sena caught my amazement and said, "First time here?"
Shizuru and Genta tensed a bit at the implication. I replied simply, "While the restaurant is still open, yeah?"
Sena cracked a laugh, a rare thing, and said with a spark of joy, "Make sure to enjoy the food."
I didn't answer, but my stomach did. Genta looked worried, gently touching his pocket like he was checking if he could survive what was coming. He definitely hadn't booked this very private and exclusive booth. He probably assumed it had something to do with Sena mentioning her name.
Shizuru lamented, "I believe I came here once when I was very young with my parents." Her gaze turned a bit sad. "But now, it's rare for us to all be present at the same time."
Sena patted her on the back. "We all do what we have to do to ensure this village and its safety is always maintained."
Genta looked impressed with her statement. So did Shizuru, who brightened up a bit. I, however, could tell. I could sense her real feelings. There was sadness. It was most likely related to her parents, given how it started with Shizuru's mention of her situation. Maybe there's something there. Maybe she has a heart after all.
The first dish arrived quietly, like it was sneaking in on silk shoes. A lacquered tray was placed before each of us, holding a small bowl the size of my palm. Inside sat a cube of pale tofu, topped with a dollop of golden miso, a sprinkle of chopped scallions, and a single shiso leaf so perfectly placed it looked photoshopped. On the side was a tiny cluster of pickled daikon slices and what I think was a slice of plum.
I stared at mine, then leaned toward Genta. "Are we supposed to eat it or stare at it until enlightenment hits?"
He gave a weak chuckle and picked up his chopsticks with the elegance of someone used to this kind of thing. I tried to do the same, almost dropped them, and decided dignity could wait. I scooped a piece of the tofu into my mouth.
It was soft. Ridiculously soft. Like it had been born to be eaten at that exact moment, then fade from existence.
"…Okay," I muttered. "That's actually insane. Now I need twenty more of those to get my stomach started."
They all laughed at my comment, the air turning humorous and casual after the earlier tension. Shizuru and Sena hadn't interacted much with Genta before, but now the mood was shifting. I thought to myself, Operation Break the Ice is a success. I was serious though. I needed a couple more of those.
Sena turned to Genta and asked, "Genta, I always wondered how Daiken-sensei is like outside the Academy. Can you tell me how he is in the Senju compound?"
Shizuru also looked intrigued. Genta, however, slumped down so far I thought a dark cloud would form over his head and rain only on him.
"He is even stricter with me than in the Academy," he replied, his voice low and filled with pain.
I laughed, grabbing his attention. "That's what you get for being born with that much chakra and physical strength, you lucky bastard." I hit his shoulder.
He narrowed his eyes and swung a hand at me, starting round two of our arms-flailing war. Shizuru and Sena kept laughing at our antics.
Then came the next wave of dishes, like a coordinated ambush. One server came in with a tray. Then another. Then a third. All moved with quiet efficiency, placing plates and bowls across the table like we were royalty or a small army preparing to eat before a siege.
There was a lacquered bowl of steaming miso soup, light and clear with just a hint of seaweed and tofu. A wooden tray stacked with grilled yakitori skewers, chicken, scallion, liver, and something I couldn't identify but would definitely eat. A dish of cold soba noodles in dipping sauce with thin-cut green onions and grated daikon. Tempura, golden and crisp, still crackling faintly from the oil. I was sure it was clean since anything I fry turns darker than the depths of hell from the oil I've been using for eternity. Tiny grilled fish glazed in something sweet and smoky. A plate of pickled vegetables in every shade imaginable. Rice bowls with herbs folded in. Some kind of beef, thinly sliced and marbled like a dream, sizzling on a miniature iron plate.
I blinked. Then I blinked again. "They're not done."
Another server stepped in with a small covered pot. I made eye contact with Genta, whose face was frozen somewhere between panic and disbelief. He glanced down at his coin pouch like he was deciding whether to jump out a window or just pass out and let fate sort it out.
Sena looked at him and nodded slightly. He caught the gesture but clearly didn't understand it.
I leaned toward him. "Should I ask for seconds now or wait until the first wave finishes?"
He closed his eyes, mourning his savings.
Sena giggled. "It's a set course. They'll bring the entire menu, one dish at a time."
Genta stared at her, betrayed. "We didn't order a full course?"
Sena smiled sweetly. "I mentioned my name. So, I expected this to happen."
Shizuru tried to hide her grin behind her chopsticks. "This is amazing though. Look at that presentation."
I didn't wait. I picked up a skewer, bit into the grilled chicken, and nearly groaned. It was juicy, seasoned with something sharp and subtle that lingered just right, and hot enough to threaten the roof of my mouth in the best possible way.
"This is... yeah. This is what happiness tastes like," I said, mouth half full. "Tell Daiken that if I die, this is how I wanted to go."
More dishes appeared. Genta slumped further.
My stomach sang. Everything was right with the world.
By the time Genta, Shizuru, and Sena had finished, most of the food was still there. I made sure nothing went to waste. It would be rude not to, especially to my generous host, Genta-sama.
Half an hour later, they were staring at me in disbelief. The amount of food I could put away had turned me into some kind of mythical beast practicing dark arts at the dinner table.
By the time I was finally full, there was nothing left. And I mean nothing. Every plate was wiped clean like a tornado had come through swinging chopsticks.
Genta looked like he was crying on the inside and a little on the outside too. He clutched his purse and started searching for an escape route. That's when the host walked in. He glanced at the table and his eyes widened slightly, the crack in his professional mask almost visible. But he recovered immediately, smiling like a true veteran and looking at Genta, then Sena.
"Was everything to your satisfaction, Lady Sena?" he asked politely.
Sena smiled and gestured toward me.
The host turned and I said without hesitation, "That was the best food I've had in my life."
And in my head, I added "In both lives, actually."
He smiled back with a professional calm. "Glad you enjoyed our food."
Genta sighed and opened his purse, already regretting every life decision that led him to me.
The host waved it off. "We could never accept money from one of Lady Sena's esteemed friends. The owner would fire me on the spot."
Genta's face lit up with relief. Sena chuckled.
The host added with a soft tone, "The owner also asked me to pass his greetings to your father, Lady Sena."
Sena nodded calmly. "I'll make sure to do so."
We stood and left, but they all kept glancing at me like I'd just performed a forbidden jutsu by still being able to walk.