Episode:5

The crowd around the stall grew louder.

Some of Yuki’s classmates were frowning.

> “Ew… is that the only menu board? It’s cracked.”

“The chairs are all dirty.”

“I think the sauce spilled on this one.”

“What kind of place is this…?”

They complained with curled lips, wiping at the plastic tables with tissues pulled from expensive branded bags.

Yuki stood silently, taking it all in. The cart was older. Some of the signs were faded. The menu board leaned awkwardly against a wooden crate.

The scene was nothing like the cafes and lounges they usually went to.

But Ren didn’t seem to care. He worked in silence, flipping meat, brushing glaze, plating food with exact motions.

Then—

A warm voice called out.

> “Ah, you kids are Ren’s classmates?”

Yuki turned.

A middle-aged woman in a simple apron walked up, smiling brightly. Her hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, her eyes kind.

Ren’s mother.

The students straightened a little.

> “Yes, we are,” someone answered with a falsely sweet smile.

She clapped her hands lightly.

> “Then today’s on the house! Thank you for supporting Ren’s family stall.”

The group hesitated, then quickly put on their nicest expressions.

> “Oh, we didn’t come for free food!”

“We came to support your son. We’ll pay!”

“That wouldn’t feel right.”

Yuki watched them. Their smiles didn’t reach their eyes.

They were the same students who mocked Ren in class. The same ones who scoffed at his clothes, whispered about his background.

And yet here they were — pretending to care. Pretending to be kind.

Yuki glanced back at Ren.

Still cooking. Still focused.

Still not saying a word.

Something stirred in Yuki’s chest.

He’s different from us.

He doesn’t pretend. Doesn’t chase approval. Doesn’t act flashy.

He’s… fascinating.

Yuki stood still in the crowd of fake compliments and loud laughter, eyes quietly locked on the boy behind the grill.

And for the first time…

He wanted to know more.

“Stop spacing out, loverboy,” Haru said, nudging Yuki with his elbow. “Say what you want before the food runs away.”

Yuki blinked. “Ah—um… anything’s fine.”

But his eyes… never left Ren.

Even as the others laughed, even as the chatter rose — he was just watching.

And for a fleeting second—

Ren looked up.

Their eyes met.

Yuki flinched.

Quickly looked away, heat rising to his cheeks.

Ren said nothing. He just turned away and quietly began preparing the orders.

Plates were set down, steam rising. The smell of grilled meat filled the air. But even then, the voices around the table never softened.

> “Hey, why is this beer already open?”

“What kind of cheap stuff is this?”

“What if we get sick?”

Laughter. Mockery.

Then one of the boys raised a full wine bottle and grinned.

> “Hey, Transfer! Drink this whole thing, and maybe we’ll come again!”

Ren didn’t answer.

> “Come on, don’t be shy. Isn’t this part of your service?”

“Yeah, don’t tell me you're scared.”

For a moment, the only sound was the sizzle of the grill.

Ren looked at them. Then at the bottle.

He took it.

Drank.

Not in a toast.

Not to please.

Just to silence them.

When the bottle hit the counter, his voice was calm.

> “Enjoy your meal.”

The table burst into mock cheers.

Yuki stood up.

> “I… I should go.”

Haru blinked at him. “You okay?”

Yuki nodded, though his hands were cold.

> “I’ll come too,” Haru said, tossing a napkin over his half-eaten plate.

The others barely noticed as they left.

The laughter behind them echoed louder. But to Yuki, it sounded distant.

He didn’t look back.

But in his chest, something shifted — a quiet ache forming.

And beside him, Haru walked in silence for once.

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