Chapter 5

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The days drifted by slowly, as if each minute stretched into an eternity, while I clung to a quiet, fragile hope of seeing Aika again. Every time I passed by that closed ramen shop, the sight of its shuttered door pierced my heart like a silent wound.

Her image lingered in my mind, a specter that refused to fade into reality. The shop itself seemed to guard a mystery, a place where our worlds had collided, leaving a hidden mark on my soul. Each time I walked by, I felt an unshakable urge to step inside, to wait for her as if by some magic she might reappear, bringing with her the warmth of her presence and the scent of her cooking.

One evening, just when I was about to surrender to the memory of her, I found myself wandering past another ramen shop. Perhaps the aroma drifting into the night air would somehow soothe this ache in my chest—a longing so deep I didn’t even know where it came from.

But does love need a reason? Must this heartbeat explain itself? Even I could find no answer.

I stepped through the door and froze. There she was—Aika—seated alone at a long wooden bench, a bowl of steaming ramen before her. Her face was peaceful as she savored each bite, soft curls of steam framing her in a gentle haze. For a breathless moment, I stood at the doorway, my heart racing, watching her in disbelieving silence.

The chime of the bell pulled her attention. Aika looked up, her eyes widening as she met my gaze. And in that instant, the same warmth washed over me, rekindling the memory of our first meeting.

“Oh, Sharva!” she exclaimed, her gentle smile only deepening the bittersweet nostalgia.

I walked toward her slowly, a small smile breaking through the nerves twisting within me. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” I managed, hoping to sound composed, though my pulse betrayed me.

She chuckled, then patted the empty seat beside her. “Perhaps… this is fate?”

I felt heat rise to my cheeks and quickly lowered my gaze, hoping she wouldn’t notice. Slowly, I took the seat next to her, letting the cozy warmth of the shop and the comforting aroma of ramen wrap around us. My eyes fell to her shoulder, now healed. How had she managed to endure it all?

“Your shoulder… it’s better now, isn’t it?” I asked, hoping to hide my deeper thoughts behind this simple question.

Her eyes sparkled, a teasing smile playing at her lips. “Yes, my injury has healed,” she replied, her tone light. “Perhaps… thanks to a certain unsung hero?”

Heat flushed my cheeks, and I brushed off the compliment with a wave of my hand. “I’m no hero. If anything, it was you who saved me.”

She tilted her head, a gentle eyebrow raised in surprise. “I saved you? I seem to recall I was the one nearly injured, and you were the one who shielded me.” She patted her shoulder as if it were nothing more than a passing bruise.

“Oh… but… I only took a small hit,” I mumbled, downplaying it.

Her laughter filled the space between us, melting away the last of my nerves. The quiet rhythm of our shared meal settled over us, a sense of peace woven through the gentle slurps and the shop’s warm ambiance. Yet nothing here could match the comfort of her ramen, that essence of Aika that lingered in my mind.

After a pause, I gathered the courage to speak. “Aika… why haven’t you reopened your shop?”

She set her chopsticks down, her gaze drifting to her bowl, her expression clouded by memories. “The robbers were convinced someone was hiding in my shop, someone dangerous. I don’t want to risk it again, Sharva. If they returned…” Her voice trailed off, heavy with unspoken fears.

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