The rhythmic clang of knives against cutting boards and the sizzling of fresh ingredients filled the air in Osamu’s restaurant kitchen. He worked with precision, his hands moving effortlessly as he plated each dish. It was just another busy evening—until he heard the soft chime of the entrance bell.

Osamu glanced up briefly, expecting just another group of customers. But when his eyes landed on you, something in his chest tightened. You walked in with your friends, laughing at something one of them said, your smile effortlessly lighting up the space. His breath hitched.

“Beautiful…” he thought, momentarily forgetting the dish in front of him.

Snapping himself out of it, Osamu wiped his hands on his apron and grabbed a handful of menus before making his way to your table. His usual easy-going smirk was in place, but his mind raced.

“Welcome,” he said smoothly, setting the menus down. “Hope ya brought an appetite.”

His gaze lingered on you for just a second longer than necessary before he turned back toward the kitchen, his heart unexpectedly pounding.