Return

"Yasushi, Lady Jingliu, I have some news for you," Yinhaie announced, her steps echoing lightly across the wooden floor as she approached.

Yasushi and Jingliu were sprawled comfortably in the living room, absorbed in a Netflix series that flickered on the oversized flat-screen. The remote clicked, the screen froze, and their eyes shifted towards Yinhaie, anticipation evident in their gazes.

"We've had some developments with the authorities and the boy's parents. They're currently being detained. They're conducting their own investigation, so for now, there's nothing more for us to worry about. I'll monitor the situation closely," she explained, her voice calm but with an underlying edge of vigilance.

"That was quick," Yasushi muttered, his eyes dropping to the floor. "I suppose we can take a breather now that they're all in custody?"

Yinhaie gave a firm nod. "Yes, they're all detained and under investigation as we speak."

Yasushi gave another nod, his expression somber yet resolute. "Keep us informed of any further developments, alright? And thank you for handling this."

"It's no trouble at all. Good night," Yinhaie responded, bowing slightly before turning to leave the room.

As she departed, Yasushi and Jingliu returned to their Netflix series. The room settled into a heavy silence, broken only by the low hum of the television. Minutes passed, filled with the muted dialogue and action from the screen, before Jingliu spoke up.

"Hopefully, with the current situation, the other troublemakers won't make any moves."

Yasushi's gaze remained fixed on the screen, but his mind wandered. "We can hope for that, but knowing people like them, they won't take it lightly." His words were layered with an understanding born from experience. In his past life, before his reincarnation, he had walked a similar path. He understood their mindset all too well.

If something precious was taken from them, they wouldn't simply accept it. They would resist, challenge any authority, and push back until they achieved their desired sense of satisfaction and gratification. Only then would their restlessness subside, if only for a moment.

"They don't know it was us, so we should be fine. No one at school knows how deeply we were involved in the events earlier this year," Jingliu murmured, snuggling closer to Yasushi on the couch. The soft light from the television cast a warm glow on her face, accentuating the concern in her eyes.

"True," Yasushi responded, his tone measured, "but people like them have ways of uncovering information. I wouldn't underestimate their resourcefulness." His voice carried a weight of practicality, a cautious edge that hinted at past encounters.

Jingliu's lips curled into a playful smile. "Speaking from experience?" she teased, her fingers gently prodding his side.

Yasushi snorted, a brief laugh escaping him, but he offered no denial. "You could say that. You can only grasp their mindset if you've been there yourself, at some point in your life," he replied, his voice trailing off into a contemplative silence. His gaze turned inward, memories surfacing briefly before he dismissed them, leaving his words to linger in the air.

+-+

"Hmm…Reina isn't here today?" Yasushi asked, his eyes scanning their group as they prepared the stall. A few early customers were already milling about, their curiosity piqued by the aromas wafting through the air.

"No, she sent a text around six this morning," Xinyi replied, her attention divided between her phone and the task at hand. "Her grandparents visited unexpectedly, so she's staying with them for the day. She asked if we could save some money for her from today's sales. Are you okay with that?"

Yasushi considered this, glancing around at the others. "Is everyone else fine with it?" he inquired, his voice carrying a note of democratic concern. A chorus of nods met his question, the group's consensus clear. He nodded in agreement, the matter settled. "Alright, as long as everyone's fine with it, let's get started."

The early morning sun cast a gentle light over the scene, the day still in its infancy. Yasushi and Yinhaie moved into action, the sizzle of food meeting hot surfaces breaking the morning's stillness. Jingliu joined them, her movements precise as she assisted with the cooking. The trio worked in harmony, the rhythm of their activity setting the pace for the day ahead.

Meanwhile, the others dispersed around the stall, fliers in hand. They engaged passersby with enthusiastic chatter, drawing them in with tales of the delicacies on offer. Their energy was infectious, the excitement around the stall building as more people stopped to listen and take a flyer.

+-+

Around noon, the food stall's popularity surged, drawing even more customers than the previous day. The word had spread, and Yasushi's group was prepared. Anticipating the rush, Yinhaie, Yasushi, and Jingliu had assembled a basket the night before, filled with food for their group to grab and eat as needed. Bottles of water accompanied the makeshift meals, ensuring everyone stayed hydrated amidst the bustling activity.

Yasushi was on a short break, savoring his food while another staff member took over, having answered their call for additional help. The scene was busy but carried an undercurrent of tranquility, a rhythm that had settled in as the day progressed. The harmony, however, was abruptly shattered by a commotion from the back of the line.

Shouting erupted, the noise slicing through the ambient chatter. Yasushi's eyes met Yinhaie's, a silent communication passing between them. He nodded, signaling he'd handle it, and set off towards the source of the disturbance.

"Sir, please, I was just explaining our menu and answering your questions. Please, calm down!" Furuya's voice trembled, caught in a mix of fear and bewilderment, as he faced the irate customer.

"Calm down?! Why the fuck is one of the menu items called 'Bukkake Soup'!?" The man's voice cut through the air, loud and angry, a stark contrast to the otherwise lively atmosphere around the food stall. He looked like a foreign tourist, his expression twisted with indignation.

Furuya blinked, struggling to comprehend the outburst. The man had yelled in English, a language Furuya wasn't comfortable with. The confusion etched on his face grew more pronounced as he stood there, paralyzed.

Yasushi stepped forward, his presence steadying the tension. He switched to English, addressing the agitated man directly. "What seems to be the problem, sir?" he asked, his voice calm and measured.

The man's glare intensified as he jabbed a finger at the menu, his frustration boiling over. "Why is there bukkake in here?!"

Yasushi glanced at the menu item in question, understanding dawning on him. "That's a dish commonly served in Japan and other Eastern countries," he began, his tone patient. "Bukkake Udon is a refreshing cold noodle dish, with thick udon noodles served in a flavorful dipping sauce. It's a versatile dish, allowing for various toppings. It's not what you're thinking of," he explained, keeping his voice steady and reassuring.

The man's anger wavered, confusion replacing the fury on his face. Yasushi continued, hoping to bridge the cultural gap. "The term might have a different meaning in English, but here, it's about the way the sauce is poured over the noodles. It's completely innocent in this context."

The explanation seemed to sink in slowly. The man's rigid posture began to relax, the intensity in his eyes dimming as he processed Yasushi's words. Yasushi stood his ground, maintaining eye contact, his calm demeanor gradually diffusing the situation.

A few moments of silence stretched between them, the crowd around the stall watching with bated breath. Finally, the man gave a reluctant nod, his anger dissipating. Yasushi offered a slight bow, a gesture of respect and apology. "I hope that clears up the misunderstanding. If you have any other questions, please feel free to ask."

The man muttered something under his breath, but he stepped back, his outburst quelled. Yasushi turned back to Furuya, giving him a reassuring nod before resuming his position at the stall. The commotion had passed, but the reminder of cultural differences lingered in the air, a subtle lesson in the diverse world they navigated.

+-+

"I thought I was going to die! That seriously scared me," Furuya exclaimed, his voice still tinged with the aftereffects of adrenaline. He clutched his chest as if to still its pounding, gulping down his drink as though it could wash away the remnants of his fright.

The day had drawn to a close, the food stall now shuttered after hours of bustling activity. The earlier confrontation with the irate customer had left Furuya a touch shaken, yet he had managed to carry out his duties with a commendable degree of efficiency. As the last of the customers departed and the chaos of the day settled into quiet, Furuya's nerves began to unwind.

Xinyi, having finished her share of the day's labor, took a casual bite of her food. She looked at Furuya, a mix of sympathy and amusement in her eyes. "Well, you did your best to calm him down, but it was a tough situation once he started speaking in English. You might want to improve your language skills. Tourists are bound to try communicating with us in English, given our reputation for 'knowing' the language," she said matter-of-factly, her tone carrying a hint of teasing.

Furuya, still feeling the sting of the earlier episode, tried to muster a defense. "Y-you're not better than me!" His attempt at bravado fell a bit flat, his voice wavering under the weight of his unease.

Xinyi's smirk widened. "Oh, I'm afraid I am. I scored a 97% on our last English quiz. You might want to accept that and move on," she retorted, sticking her tongue out playfully at him. Her teasing was light-hearted, a way to ease the tension of the day and lighten the mood.

Furuya grumbled in response, unable to maintain his indignation in the face of Xinyi's good-natured ribbing. He took another sip from his drink, trying to reclaim his composure as the group settled into a more relaxed rhythm, the echoes of the day's frenetic pace slowly fading into the evening's calm.

"Here you go," Jingliu said, extending the day's earnings to the group. She had meticulously divided the profits, ensuring each person received their fair share. "I've also set aside Reina's portion. We'll drop it off at her place later."

The group murmured their thanks, each taking their allotted share with a nod of appreciation. There was a collective sense of relief as they swiftly wrapped up their tasks. The day, though marred by a brief, tense confrontation with a disgruntled customer, had ended without further incident. The earlier commotion seemed to have faded into the background, becoming a mere afterthought as they prepared to leave.

As they tidied up, they took a moment to inform the remaining patrons that the stall would only be open on weekends. Some of the customers expressed their disappointment, their faces momentarily falling at the news. Yet, the understanding quickly followed. After all, they were high school students juggling this endeavor alongside their studies, trying to make a little extra money.

With the stall finally closed, the group exchanged casual goodbyes, their conversation a mix of relief and fatigue. They moved away from the stall, the evening air cooling their faces and carrying away the remnants of the day's heat. The once-bustling scene now lay quiet, the fading echoes of their effort dissolving into the calm of the night.

+-+

On a quiet hill overlooking Ginsukimura, a solitary figure stood against the backdrop of the city's sprawling landscape. The boy, barely a teenager, stared out with intense, bloodshot eyes that betrayed a deep-seated turmoil. His hands were buried in the pockets of his jacket, the fabric crumpled with the weight of his clenched fists.

A muttered threat escaped his lips, barely more than a harsh whisper carried by the evening breeze. "I'll fucking kill you," he said, his voice low and menacing, directed towards the distant silhouette of a particular school. His fingers, hidden from view, traced the outline of a switchblade in his pocket, the metal cold against his skin.

This boy had returned to Ginsukimura with a singular purpose: vengeance. The resolve etched on his face was palpable, a silent promise that he would see his quest through, regardless of the cost. The city below remained oblivious, its lights twinkling innocently in the encroaching darkness. Yet, up on that hill, the air crackled with a palpable sense of impending conflict, as the boy's gaze remained fixed on his distant target, his mind consumed by thoughts of retribution.