Ramen Shop

Every day after school Miles wouldn't go home. He wouldn't go left from the school's entrance and walk for half a mile and then turn left at the hospital's four-way stop for another half mile to get to his small blue house in front of the home of a deputy from his county's police department. Instead, Miles would turn right and continue to walk for almost half a mile and then turn right to cross the town's main street where he would continue his walk for another mile, and then he would turn left into the small alleyway in between the bank and the martial arts dojo. Entering the alleyway, the strong savory smells of seared meat, along with the somehow sweet smell of the different broths Mr. Asano always cooked, would linger in the air, and make your taste buds wish they were the nose.

Mr. Asano's small shop made its home just a few skips into the alleyway where the slightly bright orange paper lamp with Japanese writing on it would illuminate a small area around the shop. After ducking under the light yellow noren, even if he didn't need to, Miles passed the five bar stools that were tucked under the lip of the counter serving as the table for the lucky consumers. Miles liked these chairs because even adults couldn't reach the floor when they sat on them. Every time he came inside, he would go around the counter and duck under another light yellow noren to enter the kitchen and would loudly say, "Tadaima!" Miles didn't know what this meant, but Mr. Asano told him to always say it when he enters the shop to let him know he was here. The kitchen was pretty small, as it used to be the back of an old bar, but his daughter, Ms. Natsume, used the front for her clothing brand. Mr. Asano was sitting by the stove where he boiled the noodles and looked up from his light blue Gameboy Advance and signaled him to sit down on the chairs in front. After hanging up his bag on the coat hanger drilled next to Ms. Natsume's door he skipped to the front and sat on the chair closest to the noren.

"Have you beaten him yet?" Miles asked as Mr. Asano grabbed a bowl and ladled in some tare, which was dashi with soy sauce, mirin, and water that was steeped in shiitake mushrooms.

"No no. I still can't beat the damn Blastoise," he said as he then ladled in some of the milky tonkotsu broth.

"Have you used Ampharos?"

He grabbed the strainer and put some noodles inside it and lowered it into the water, shaking the noodles vigorously with chopsticks. "No 'cause his Espeon somehow has a ground type move." He pulled the noodles and shook them to get rid of the water latched onto them and carefully placed them into the bowl with his chopsticks. "Trust me, Miles, he's unbeatable." Mr. Asano enjoyed video games, Pokémon being his favorite, and would always talk to Miles about them even though he's pretty old. Miles was forty percent sure he turned sixty-eight this year. Mr. Asano then carefully placed two thicker-than-normal chashu slices along the bowl's wall, then two halves of a half-boiled ajitama egg next to it, and a pinch full of green onions. Before I could stick my chopsticks into the bowl and slurp away at the noodles Mr. Asano interrupted with a short weird, "Ah!" then said, "You hafto say itadakimasu."

"What does it mean?"

"It's just the polite ting to say when you eat food." He would often explain things like that to Miles, "It just is," but Miles never questioned him since Mr. Asano knew a lot of things. Like he taught Miles how to make rice and how to buy vegetables for cheap.

As Miles finished drinking his broth, he put the bowl down and wiped his mouth with his hoodie sleeve. "Thanks Mister Asano, how much do I give you?"

"No no, don't worry 'bout that, just wash your bowl." He never let Miles pay for some reason, instead he let Miles wash the dishes as a form of payment. "Tomorrow I'll let you make your own bowl."

"Really!?"

"Yes, it's a congrats for finishing the year. Get your bag after you're done and I'll take you home."