The night deepened, cloaking the city in a peaceful hush.
At the tavern, a chaotic meal had just wrapped up—one that only Rindō Kobayashi could orchestrate. True to her reputation as the queen of culinary chaos at Tōtsuki Academy, she'd devoured the entire alligator dish without breaking a sweat. And just when Zane thought she'd reached her limit, she surprised everyone by ordering more: grilled eel, deep-fried oysters, spicy hotpot, and even a bucket of caramel popcorn she spotted behind the counter. In the end, she walked out of the tavern rubbing her stomach with a self-satisfied grin, joking that she felt "ten months pregnant."
Zane just stood there, stunned. He wasn't sure how much she had eaten—he'd lost count halfway through. But judging by the mountain of empty plates and the satisfied gleam in her eyes, it had been an impressive performance even by Rindō's gluttonous standards.
While the kitchen cooled and the bustle settled, Hisako cleaned her hands after finishing her teriyaki chicken rice. She lingered at the table with Erina, their soft conversation weaving through the low hum of the tavern.
"Are you really sure you don't want to return to Tōtsuki Academy, Miss?" Hisako asked gently, her voice almost hesitant.
Erina placed her chopsticks down and leaned back, gazing up at the ceiling beams with a contemplative sigh. "Hmm… not right now."
There was a strange lightness in her tone—like someone who had finally shrugged off a heavy burden.
"You've always been by my side, Hisako," she continued. "Doing everything for me, watching over me. I'm incredibly grateful. But now that Zane and Senior Sonoka are helping manage the tavern, I think it's time for you to rest and focus on your own life. Do something for yourself."
Hisako blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected words. "Eh? Miss, that look in your eyes… it's like you're saying goodbye forever."
Erina shook her head quickly. "Don't be dramatic. I'm not disappearing. I'll return for Elite Ten meetings or if anything important happens at the academy. I'm just… taking a break. A real one."
Seeing the conflict in Hisako's expression, she added with a teasing smile, "You worry too much. Zane's reliable. He's already picked up a lot around here."
That earned a sharp retort from Hisako, whose eyes twitched in disbelief. "Miss! You make it sound like I've never been reliable! Haven't I followed you faithfully for ten years?"
Erina laughed softly, covering her mouth. "That's true. But when it comes to cooking, you're no match for him. You know it."
Hisako nearly collapsed. "You really know how to wound me…"
"Alright, enough sulking." Erina gave her a playful push. "Go on. Visit the tavern when you miss me."
"…Fine. But only because you asked."
Still looking slightly conflicted, Hisako stood. She walked over to Zane, raised her small fist in mock threat, and declared, "I'm leaving Erina in your hands. The Director and I both see her as a national treasure. If I find out she's been hurt or mistreated… I'll chase you to the ends of the earth."
"As tavern owner, I promise to treat every staff member like family," Zane said with a grin, patting his chest. "And Erina especially—she'll be cared for. That's a guarantee."
"Hmph. You'd better remember that."
With a final nod, Hisako turned and headed toward the door. But she paused briefly, stealing one last glance at Erina. There was still something she didn't quite understand—why Erina insisted on living at the tavern too.
Then, realization dawned: Erina wanted to eat Zane's cooking every day. His dishes gave her a sense of warmth that even the finest gourmet meals at Tōtsuki could not replicate. As she watched Erina's gentle smile while cleaning up the counter, Hisako sighed.
She's happy. That's enough.
And so, after gathering the tangle of feelings in her chest, Hisako finally walked away.
Inside, Erina watched her go with a bittersweet look. "You know, Hisako… I always wanted you to be my closest friend. Not just my secretary."
She whispered the words to the empty tavern air.
Her mind drifted back to her lonely childhood—where playgrounds were forbidden, friendships discouraged, and freedom unheard of. Only one girl, with short light red hair and unwavering loyalty, had stood by her all this time. Even now, when the world moved faster than ever and life demanded constant reinvention, that one connection remained her anchor.
Outside, towering buildings blinked with artificial lights. Roads bustled with endless traffic, like veins pumping life into a restless city. But not everyone moved with the same purpose. Some were just drifting—lost.
Like Momo Akanegakubo.
Once a star pâtissière of Tōtsuki and the proud owner of the high-end dessert restaurant "Amarillo", she had conquered the culinary world with precision and grace. But her empire crumbled in a single night.
The late-night chefs had descended like wolves, tearing through her legacy. She had tried to resist, to fight back—but their methods were brutal, their standards unrelenting. Her pride wouldn't let her cry over spilled milk, but deep inside, she was hurting.
And so, tonight, she stumbled into the tavern like a ghost haunted by regrets.
"Sonoka, three bottles of soju. No—make it five."
Sonoka blinked, nearly dropping the towel she was using to wipe the counter. "Five?! Momo, are you planning to drink yourself unconscious?"
"The tavern is a place for drinking, right?" Momo scowled. "Don't worry. I won't cause a scene."
Knowing her protest wouldn't work, Sonoka hesitated but retrieved one bottle. "You're lucky the owner doesn't like drunk customers. I'll bring the rest if you still want more after this."
With the first sip, Momo let out a sigh.
Zane's soju wasn't like anything from a bottle shop. It was light, silky, and rich, leaving a warm trail that soothed her throat. The faint sting of alcohol was just enough to distract her from the chaos inside her mind.
"Still not enough…" she muttered, staring at the empty glass before slamming it down.
"Owner," Sonoka called, panicked. "She's not herself tonight. Maybe you can talk to her."
Zane approached, concern in his eyes. "What's going on?"
Sonoka quickly explained—the restaurant closure, the confrontation with the late-night chefs, and Momo's breakdown.
Zane frowned, deep in thought. That's strange. According to canon, Momo's restaurant shouldn't close this early. Looks like my presence is changing the timeline.
"Interesting," he murmured with a smirk. "Very interesting."
Momo didn't notice. She just tapped her empty glass again. "I need more."
"Hold on," Zane said, stepping closer. "How about some food to go with your drink?"
"Food?"
"You heard me."
"…Can you make tapas?"
That surprised him. "Tapas?"
"You probably don't even know what that is," Momo huffed. "Forget it."
"Who said I didn't know?" Zane smirked. "I just didn't expect you to ask for Spanish bar food in a Japanese tavern."
"I like it, okay?" she snapped, cheeks tinged red.
Zane chuckled. "Alright, then. I'll make you some tapas."
In the kitchen, he got to work.
He baked golden baguette slices, crispy on the outside, airy within. He topped them with sun-ripened tomatoes, slivers of cured ham, cubes of creamy Manchego cheese, black olives soaked in citrus oil, and delicate herbs like basil and rosemary for a Mediterranean touch. Each piece was a canvas of flavor and artistry.
He plated them on small red dishes—traditional tapas style—and paired them with another bottle of his signature soju.
Momo stared in disbelief.
Paper-thin ham curled like rose petals, olives glistened under the lights, and the aromas were intoxicating.
"What… what is this?"
"A toast to what you've lost," Zane said, setting the plate before her. "And what you'll find again."
Momo's eyes widened. For the first time in days, she didn't feel like crying.