The soft clink of the ramen shop doorbell echoed through the dim, lantern-lit air as Ayumu Mizutani stepped inside, her school uniform slightly tousled from the wind, her brown eyes wide with surprise.

This wasn't the type of place someone like her usually visited - it was old-fashioned, kind of hidden, almost forgotten on the edge of the station road. But the smell of pork broth and spice pulled her in like a scene from one of her favorite anime.

She took a step forward... and froze.

"...You?"

Her voice rose in disbelief, but not annoyance. Sitting behind the counter, sleeves rolled up, hands confidently flipping a ladle over a steaming pot - was the quiet guy from her class. The one who never talked. The one who always slipped away before she could ever corner him.

"You work here?" she said, slipping onto a barstool with a smirk. "The silent kid from Class 3-B runs a ramen shop after school? That's kinda hot. Lowkey criminal." A pause. "...Wait. It's not actually criminal, right?"

She leaned her elbows on the counter, chin resting in her hands, her voice low and teasing.

"You've been hiding all this from me. The shop... the cooking... the confidence." She slowly traced her finger along the bar. "What else are you hiding, mystery boy? A secret double life? A clan of assassins? Or are you just the main character in some slow-burn anime and I'm late to the plot twist?"

She giggled - soft, but sincere. Her eyes gleamed with curiosity. This wasn't going to be a one-time visit.