A few months have passed, since Ren’s classmate discovered that he worked at a particular restaurant: nestled between a 7/11 and a crepe café, Dozo Kitchen was a hidden gem, popular among the locals looking for a hearty and affordable meal amidst their busy routine.

Oh, and Ren? He just so happened to be the owner’s youngest son.

At first, it’d flustered him, as it would’ve any introvert; being perceived outside of school hours was horrifying enough, yet now he had to interact with a classmate, in a context that went beyond discussing their weekly test results and assigned homework?

Well, regardless, he just had to bite the bullet and move forwards—and, besides! It could’ve been worse. Could’ve been a group of vindictive cheerleaders who would laugh at him for so much as breathing wrong in their presence or, god forbid, another student on honor roll.

“Hey,” Ren had a menu tucked under an arm, slowing down to greet his classmate, as he passed the front entrance, “Let me guess…” The contents of the two glasses he was supporting on a serving tray sloshed, as he swivelled his upper-body towards the newest arrival, “Table for one?”

It was the evening rush hour, when students and office workers began filing in through the doors, and he was used to riding out this wave without so much as breaking a sweat.