Tales from a fly

Between noodles and family

I went to this old, run-down noodles shop to find something to drink. I come here often, usually not to drink anything, but rather just to watch the humans. Sometimes I hear interesting stories but lately, not many people are eating here. To tell the whole truth, not many people come here all year long, but recently, it seems like almost no one comes here; and I'm not helping either. No one wants to eat at a dingy, archaic noodles shop with flies around. But I can't help it, I love the rustic atmosphere and the nice old man who runs the shop, and he never shoos me away. I don't know why, but something in me wanted to visit this shop again, and so I was sitting on the wall when the owner's daughter came in.

She doesn't come here regularly so I got intrigued and listened in to their conversation:

'Hello Miki, finally decided to take over the shop, huh?' The owner asked, coming out from the back upon seeing his daughter enter. 

'Dad, this is why I never come here. You always ask me to take over this place and we always fight about it,' she said, sounding frustrated.

The owner, upon hearing this, grimaced and sat behind a wooden bench while gesturing for his daughter to sit opposite to him. 'Then why did you come here? Not to just visit me, that is sure,' he said.

'Dad, Kei agreed to buy this place for a lot of money, money that would be enough for you to have a comfortable retirement. I told him to give me some time to talk to you. He told me I have a month to convince you,' she explained, trying to stay as calm as possible.

'So is that why you're here? To convince me to sell my shop? He asked, angry.

'Yes, dad. Just listen to me. Kei wants to buy this place and turn it into a restaurant. I can talk with him and make him agree to give you a job as a chef there. You can still make your dear noodles there,' she argued desperately.

'What do you think this shop means to me, Miki? Just some source of income? Do you think making noodles is just my hobby? Do you think I can just work anywhere and be satisfied with it? Do you think I can just work for another guy and it would be the same as THIS?!?!' He replied with passion, accidently shouting out the last word. He then wiped the sweat on his forehead with a small towel he had on his shoulder and calmed down.

'Dad, I understand what this shop means for you but running this isn't sustainable anymore. I wish I could take care of you with my income so you can cook your noodles but I can barely put food in my mouth with the shit they pay me! We have to be realistic here. Even if I come here and help you with the shop, we can't make enough money to feed us both,' she pleaded with him.

'I understand your situation but let me make my ramen in peace. I just want you to take over this shop when I'm dead. You'll make enough money, really,' the old man said, trying to get his daughter to see his way.

'Dad, you don't understand. I'm not going to make enough money working he-,' before she could finish her sentence, the door opened and a customer came in. She looked to be in her mid twenties, she was wearing a simple off-shoulder white top with puffy sleeves paired with a high waisted dark blue mom jeans, and white sneakers, her brown pin straight hair tied up in a classic high ponytail.

As soon as father and daughter saw they had a costumer, they stood up and greeted her. Then he asked what she would like to eat to which the woman politely asked what the most popular dish in the shop was and the old man informed her that it was their cold soba. The woman ordered a bowl of that and she started looking around the shop, trying to strike up a conversation with Miki. 

'When was this shop built? This place looks pretty old,' the lady asked with a curious look.

'My grandfather built this place after World War II. The man who just took your order is his son, my father. He took over the business when my grandfather was very ill,' she answered proudly. Both her and her father love talking about the history of the shop to whoever asked. 

'Do you get a lot of customers?' the woman asked.

'No, not really. And it's a shame, really. We cook our noodles only with traditional methods, and all our recipes were passed down from my great-grandmother.'

As they were talking, the old man came out of the kitchen with her soba and placed it in front of her. The noodles were cold, perfect for the hot summer. 

The woman took a bite of the noodles, chewing it carefully. 

After swallowing it she immediately took out her phone and took many pictures of the noodles before taking out a notepad and writing- more like scribbling down something before turning to the both of them:

'This is the best soba I've ever had!' She exclaimed.

'Um...are you a food critic?' Miki asked, a bit nervous.

'Huh? Me? No No, I'm just a travel writer. Lately I've been searching for places that sell good, comforting food and when one day I was talking with Kei about how hard is has been to find food like that for an affordable price, he recommended this place to me,' she explained happily.

'Kei? He was the one who told you? But he was the one who agreed to buy this shop...' Miki wondered aloud.

'What is she saying, Miki? Kei told her about this place?' The old man asked his daughter, confused.

'I...I don't know dad,' she replied honestly before asking the woman seriously. 'Are you positive Kei was the one who told you about this place? As in Kei Ayoyama?' to which the travel writer just nodded and said: 'He also told me he actually didn't want the shop to be shut down because he loves the food. He only agreed to buy this place because he couldn't bear to see you suffer financially like this.'

'So...are you going to write about our shop in your magazine?' The old man asked hesitantly. He still couldn't believe what was happening.

'Of course, sir!' The travel writer replied enthusiastically as she continued eating her soba.

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A week later, I was in the noodles shop again, watching the old man serve a few costumers.

'Wow there's a lot of people here today,' I thought happily to myself when the door opened.

'Good morning. How may I- oh Miki, it's just you. Why are you in such a-' before he could complete his sentence he got interrupted by her. 'Dad, dad, our shop is in today's magazine!' She announced excitedly.

'Really? Show me!' He said with the same excitement. 

She showed him the magazine and I obviously went and got a closer look. It had a picture of the restaurant and the bowl of soba the writer ate along with the history about the shop and praise for it. It was amazing seeing the pride and joy on both of their faces'.

'Do you think more people are going to come here now?' he asked.

'Of course dad,' she replied. 'And if the shop brings in enough money, I can quit my job and help out here full time,' she added with fondness.

'That's good. Now come on and help me. I have a feeling we're going to get a lot of customers today.'

'Mhmm,' she replied, tying up her hair into a bun.

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