After the two were seated, a waiter promptly arrived to take their order.
Since gumi Kato wasn't familiar with abroad related cuisine, the task of choosing dishes naturally fell to Shiro Sakamaki.
He glanced over the nu with a faint smirk. The variety was impressive, though he wondered how skilled the kitchen really was.
"Let's go with Nine-Turn Large Intestine, Sea Cucumber with Scallion, Double-Crispy Pork, Eight-Treasure Duck in Gourd, Stir-Fried Wings, and... Chestnut Chicken Soup to start."
The waiter quickly jotted everything down and retreated.
gumi smiled.
"Shiro-kun really does love food. Every ti I'm with you, I end up trying all sorts of dishes."
"Naturally," Shiro grinned. "There are only two things in life you should never let down—beautiful won, and great food."
He added with a playful look,
"Though... let's just forget about that raw at sashimi from last ti."
gumi laughed softly, covering her mouth.
"I thought you were the type who never turns down a challenge."
"Usually true. But raw red at sashimi's where I draw the line. I'm used to raw foods—sure—but our styles are pretty different."
He shrugged. He could handle drunken shrimp or blood clams—but raw beef? That was pushing it.
Then gumi asked—casually, but with just a hint of tension in her voice:
"So... what's Shiro-kun's standard for a beautiful woman?"
Though her expression stayed calm, Shiro's keen senses picked up the faint flutter in her heartbeat.
"Hmm... for example, soone like Kato-chan?"
"Eh?!"
gumi blinked, surprised. Her face turned pink almost instantly, her usual composure slipping.
But despite her embarrassnt, there was sothing sweet in her smile.
"I told you before," Shiro added sincerely.
"You're a wonderful girl, so stop thinking you're not enough."
"Mm... okay~!"
For once, her voice carried confidence, and the smile on her face shone a little brighter.
The restaurant was bustling now—every table was filled, the sounds of conversation and clinking dishes filling the room.
The first dish to arrive was the chestnut chicken soup, carried over by a curvaceous young woman in a traditional cheongsam, her long purple hair pulled back neatly.
Shiro recognized her instantly: Miyoko Hojo, the chef's daughter.
The reason she delivered the soup personally was clear—she'd wanted to see who had ordered that rare combination of dishes.
Double-Crispy Pork, Sea Cucumber with Scallion, Nine-Turn Intestine—all were complicated, classic Shandong cuisine dishes. Not sothing casual diners usually ordered.
Their eyes t briefly, but neither spoke. Shiro calmly looked back at her as she turned and left.
He ladled out soup for gumi and set it in front of her.
"Let's start with sothing warm. The others will take longer."
"Thank you," she replied, taking small sips.
After about half an hour, the main dishes began to arrive.
First ca the Double-Crispy Pork. Shiro examined a slice of belly—well-cut. He took a bite.
Then frowned.
It was decent... but lacking.
"They went too hard on the heat. The outer texture's right, but the flavor didn't lock in."
Next ca the Nine-Turn Intestine, Roasted Sea Cucumber, and Eight-Treasure Duck. All were okay—technically correct, but missing heart. Missing finesse.
Shiro took a few bites of each, then stopped. His high standards for food weren't easily t.
gumi, however, seed to enjoy the dishes. Her appetite was better than usual—Shandong flavors were complex and layered, and she adjusted to them easily.
Still, the portions were large, and by the end, much of the food remained.
When Miyoko Hojo returned to clear the plates, she caught sight of the leftovers and paused, a frown forming as she watched Shiro walk away.
---
Out on the street, gumi looked up at him.
"Shiro-kun didn't eat much. Are you feeling alright?"
"It's not that. Just didn't suit my taste."
"But you said earlier... 'never let down good food,' rember?"
"I stand by that. But 'good' is the keyword here. These were... fine. Just not what I expected."
He sighed lightly, still analyzing the seasoning and temperature in his head.
gumi simply watched him, quietly amused. She liked this side of him—grumbling, opinionated, weirdly passionate about flavor.
They walked aimlessly through the streets, lit by soft neon and street lamps.
Suddenly, Shiro paused mid-step.
His expression darkened for just a mont—barely noticeable, but gumi caught it.
"Shiro-kun...?"
"Ah, it's nothing," he said quickly, covering smoothly. "Just rembered sothing."
In truth, one of the detection marks he'd placed in the city had just been triggered.
Sothing had passed through.
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