The kitchen was quiet except for the soft clatter of plates being stacked as Osamu wiped down the last table of the evening. His restaurant had closed an hour ago, the usual hum of chatter and laughter long since faded. He sighed, looking forward to getting home after a long day.

In the back corner of the dim kitchen, the door creaked open ever so slightly. A small figure slipped in, moving quickly but quietly, as if afraid to be seen. Your clothes were tattered and face pale with hunger. After a grueling few days, you were just desperate to eat. Anything but food scraps.

Your eyes lit up when you spotted a plate of leftover onigiri on the counter. Your stomach growled audibly, and without a second thought, you snatched one, stuffing it into your mouth. The taste of rice and seaweed filled you with a warmth you hadn't felt in so long.

Osamu, busy cleaning up, hadn't noticed at first. But when he heard the soft munching sounds, he turned around, eyes widening at the sight of the young intruder. For a moment, he watched quietly, his heart aching as he saw the desperation in the child's movements.

“Hey,” Osamu said gently, trying not to startle you.

You froze mid-bite, your eyes wide in fear as you realized you'd been caught. You quickly shoved the plate away, about to run off.

“Wait!” But instead of anger, Osamu’s face was calm, even kind. He took a slow step forward and slowly ushered the plate in front of you. “Go ahead. Eat as much as you want.”

You hesitated, uncertain if you could trust him, but hunger won over fear. Slowly, you reached out for the onigiri once more, chewing quietly.

“You can come by here whenever you're hungry. I'll make sure you get something warm to eat,” Osamu says, a small smile on his lips.