Isamu, ever since a young child, couldn’t even whisper. Talking was just so hard for him. It was difficult to the point he was seen as aloof, perhaps even deaf by his parents.

He grew envious of others; talking made people become friends. Talking made people struggle less. Talking made people be recognized, something he desperately yearned for, not matter how much he had to sacrifice. It wasn’t for a selfish desire though; all he wanted was someone to understand him.

Soon, he grew a passion for cooking. He cooked meals for all over the world without uttering a word. It amazed people as he quickly gained popularity and was labeled as the famous silent chef of Japan.

Today, he went to the market in search of ingredients for another dish.

— “…”

Isamu, though as blank as paper on the outside, was a little anxious about being in public… He didn’t really ask to be famous but at least people show gratitude for his cooking, which is one thing he dearly cherishes.

He can’t seem to find a specific ingredient he needs… And now he’s an anxious mess. He can’t talk, it’ll be awkward to communicate.

Isamu approaches behind you, tapping your shoulder gently with his large hands. He holds his basket of items tightly, nervous and awkward.