Spirit Diner: Departures are Flavored with Memories, Episode 2
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Chapter 1: Small Eatery 'Omoide'
1 On a Day When Powder Snow Dances
Snow?
Flutter, flutter.
Powder snow dances down from a dull, murky, lead-colored sky.
Today is the first day of spring.
However, the weather forecast said that due to a strong cold air mass and a winter-type pressure pattern, it would be the coldest day of the year, and that we should dress warmly when going out—and that is exactly what happened.
Hirota Yahiro stopped at a red light at an intersection.
He breathed onto his fingertips, which had gone numb from the cold, and rubbed his hands together.
As he slowly looked up at the sky, a cold fragment of snow fell onto his forehead.
The snow melted slowly, trickling down his temple.
His exhaled white breath rose into the void.
Even though it was spring on the calendar, the cold wind that reminded him of midwinter made Yahiro shiver, and he pulled his scarf up to his mouth.
A clinking sound of coins came from his coat pocket.
He thrust his hand in, and when he opened his clenched fist, there were coins totaling 350 yen.
This was Yahiro's entire fortune at the moment.
「Sigh.」
He sighed and slumped his shoulders.
His workplace had suddenly gone bankrupt due to the recent recession and the changing times.
The company Yahiro worked for was in the seal-making industry, and rumors that the company might be in trouble had been whispered secretly among employees for some time, but everyone had secretly assumed that bankruptcy wouldn't actually happen.
However, on a Monday after the long weekend, when he went to work as usual, there was a notice posted at the company entrance.
He couldn't believe his eyes.
He looked again.
"This can't be true," he muttered.
It was a petition for bankruptcy. In the end, the president disappeared as if running away in the middle of the night, and it became a miserable situation where he received neither his salary nor severance pay, and his personal belongings left at the company were seized.
Though, he didn't have anything valuable enough to bother reclaiming at the company anyway.
He was shocked, but deep down, he had a premonition that this would happen eventually.
There was no time to lament.
He had to find his next job as soon as possible.
His savings would hit rock bottom in the blink of an eye.
Since he hadn't been paid properly, he was also behind on his rent.
More than anything, the apartment he was currently living in was being demolished due to aging, and he had been asked to move out.
He had to find a new place to live quickly, but without the funds to start, he couldn't find anything, and two days ago, he was finally kicked out of the apartment.
Any job would do. He wasn't in a position to be picky. He just wanted to be hired, but as his anxiety grew, he felt his heart becoming listless in the worst possible situation where he couldn't even land a job.
And yet, he still got hungry.
Yahiro's stomach growled loudly.
Come to think of it, he hadn't eaten a proper meal in two days.
That's right. The reason he had no energy was because he was hungry. Because of that, he couldn't muster any motivation and his brain wasn't working.
That showed in his expression and attitude, preventing him from making a good impression at interviews, and he kept getting rejected.
Ah, I'm hungry.
If I could eat some hearty meat, I'd feel better, he thought, and just as he let out a lamenting voice in his heart, the traffic light chirped.
Yahiro started walking.
He had nowhere to go. He just walked along with the flow of people. However, after crossing the pedestrian crossing, Yahiro suddenly stopped.
It was a place where many pedestrians were coming and going, but everyone skillfully avoided Yahiro, who had stopped in his tracks.
No one complained, telling him to get out of the way.
Yahiro sniffed through his nose.
A delicious smell was drifting from somewhere.
It was the smell of food. And it was a delicious smell that made his empty stomach want to go wild.
What is that smell?
Simmered food cooked sweet and salty. No, is it the savory smell of soy sauce? There's also a faint hint of garlic. It was like a street food terrorist attack on his stomach.
Where is it?
Yahiro started walking again to find the source of the smell.
It seemed to be drifting from the alleyway right nearby.
Lured by the smell, Yahiro turned off the main street and entered the narrow path.
Yahiro stopped in front of a small eatery just inside the alleyway.
Is this it?
A small, quiet, Japanese-modern style eatery standing there unobtrusively.
The source of the smell that was attacking his empty stomach was apparently here.
It was only 4:30 PM, still early for the sun to set, but because of the snowy sky, it was already dim all around.
The warm indirect lighting illuminating the sign and the lantern placed on the ground next to the lattice door welcomed customers with a soothing light, creating a fantastical space with the snow falling flutteringly.
Small eateries often have an image of being intimidating, but he felt relieved as he could see the inside of the shop through the glass on the front facade.
Looking inside, it seemed there were no customers yet.
He could see a man who appeared to be the owner preparing food behind the counter.
The sign hanging next to the door read 'Omoide'.
「'Sou'? No, it's 'Omoide' (Memories).」
Yahiro swallowed hard and looked down at the coins in his hand.
Could he eat something if it was cheap? But the question was whether there was any dish he could eat for 350 yen.
He hesitated for a moment, but unable to hold back any longer, Yahiro opened the sliding door of the shop.
He peered into the shop through the slightly opened door. As expected, there were no customers. Perhaps no one comes at such an awkward time.
Determined, Yahiro stepped inside timidly and closed the door behind him.
The man who appeared to be the owner, who was behind the counter, smiled at Yahiro. He was a soothing, handsome man with a calm atmosphere.
「Welcome. Please take any seat you like.」
The owner invited Yahiro, who was standing still at the entrance, to come inside.
True to his appearance, his voice and tone were gentle and soothing. If he were a woman, she would fall for him in an instant.
"Thank you," Yahiro said, bowing to the owner, and sat at the L-shaped counter seat in the back. At the same time, he was served warm tea and a wet towel. He was grateful for it as his body was cold.
The low counter was comfortable to sit at. Dishes and glasses were lined up on the counter between the counter and the kitchen.
First, he reached for the tea he was served, took a sip, and let out a breath.
Then, while picking up the menu placed on the counter, he glanced at the owner standing in the kitchen.
He was still a young man. Probably in his late twenties. He possessed beauty that made one wonder if he was a celebrity. A tall, slender figure with a model-like physique.
Silky hair and narrow eyes. A well-defined nose and thin lips. Each part of his face was like a work of art. He looked perfectly natural in his samue cooking attire.
He's incredibly handsome.
Being handsome and able to cook, he must be popular with women.
The owner, noticing Yahiro's gaze, looked over and softened his eyes. Their eyes met, and Yahiro hurriedly looked down at the menu in his hand.
Well, he had entered the shop on impulse, but was there actually anything he could eat for 350 yen?
There were photos for each dish. They all looked so delicious that he couldn't decide.
The prices weren't exorbitantly high either; they were reasonable.
Mackerel simmered in miso with a rich sauce, fatty salted silver salmon served with grated daikon radish and lemon.
He continued to look at the menu.
The meat and vegetable stir-fry with plenty of vegetables also looked delicious, and the miso-katsu simmered on an iron plate was irresistible. Nikujaga (meat and potatoes) is a classic of classics. Since the taste of potato salad varies depending on the person who makes it, it's also a pleasure to taste that. What is lotus root dumpling? There was not only Japanese food but also Western-style dishes. Nostalgic Napolitan pasta and fluffy, runny omelet rice are menus you sometimes crave intensely.
He had assumed it would be full of pretentious creative cuisine, but surprisingly, there were also common, approachable menu items.
No, no.
Yahiro, who had finished looking through the menu, came back to his senses.
He had almost forgotten that he only had 350 yen on him.
Yahiro looked at the menu again, trying to be calm.
— Continued in Episode 3 —
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