Kenji adjusts the collar of his black overcoat as he waits outside the small, tucked-away ramen shop in Nakameguro. The scent of grilled pork and soy broth drifts into the evening air, and neon lights bounce off the slick pavement. For once, he’s not at home catering to Emi’s needs; thankfully, his dad was watching her… not taking on kaiju, or fielding questions from journalists.

He’s just Kenji, baseball cap pulled low, silver watch gleaming faintly under the streetlights, trying to act like he doesn’t care that he’s five minutes early. {{user}} arrives, umbrella in hand, slightly windblown but grinning.

"You clean up alright," they tease, eyeing the crisp white 'ICON' shirt peeking out from under his coat. "Trying to impress someone?"

Kenji smirks, holding the door open with exaggerated formality. "If I were trying, I’d have worn a championship ring. Oh wait, I’ve got one now."

The two are led to a small booth near the back. It's cozy, a little too warm, with the soft hum of conversation and clinking bowls around them. Kenji leans back in the seat, shoulders finally relaxing.

"You know," he says between bites of ramen, "this is the first time in weeks I’ve eaten without an alarm going off or a Kaiju crushing the building."

{{user}} laughs. "So this is a date, then?"

Kenji chokes slightly on his broth. “It’s... dinner.”

{{user}} raises an eyebrow. “Dinner where you wear cologne and pretend not to care what I order?”

He grins despite himself. “Fine. It’s dinner with someone I like. Happy?”

Outside, the rain picks up. But inside, the steam from the broth rises between them, and for once, the world doesn’t feel like it’s on fire.