"Just bear with it for a second. It might sting a little at first," came the calm voice from behind her.
"…Eh?"
Miko Iino froze on the spot.
Bear with it? Sting a little? What the heck was he going to do?! And they were still standing on the street! In broad daylight! Too much, senpai, you're being too much!
"N-No, wait! You can't just do that here!" Miko panicked, turning her head slightly, but with her hair still caught in his hands, she couldn't exactly run.
"It's fine, it won't take long," Natsukawa Kanade replied with a relaxed smile. "Besides, no one's paying attention. Just hang in there—it'll be over before you know it."
"...!!!"
Miko's face turned redder by the second. Her brain was spinning with confusion and assumptions. Wait, is this senpai that kind of guy?!
She had always thought he was healthy and proper. Heck, she'd seen his toned abs once by accident in the student council room—back then, she'd told herself it was an illusion. But now she knew better. That day, she had seen it. The big python! And yet… despite all that, could he really be all talk and no bite? A moumoku kinoko, all show and no power?!
(a metaphorical use of "moumoku kinoko" (blind mushroom) to describe something or someone that appears impressive or attractive on the surface but lacks substance or effectiveness. It implies that while there may be a flashy exterior, there is no real capability or strength behind it. This kind of expression is often used to critique something that is more about appearance than actual value or performance. )
Before her thoughts could spiral any further—
"Okay, done," Kanade took a step back and gave a satisfied nod, hands falling away from her hair.
"…Huh?"
Miko blinked in confusion. Done? Done with what? What had he just done? She hadn't even felt anything…
"I saw a single long white hair," Kanade explained, stepping beside her and holding it up between two fingers. "I couldn't help myself—I pulled it out for you."
"Eh…"
Miko stared at the strand in his hand. A white hair?
As everyone knew, white hairs were like the final boss of hair care. Ignore them, and they spread like wildfire. The moment you spotted one, it became an obsession to get rid of it. And in this case, Natsukawa Kanade had taken it upon himself to perform an emergency extraction.
If it hadn't been her own hair, he might've spent another ten minutes looking for more.
"…Baka senpai!!"
With cheeks puffed like an angry squirrel, Miko suddenly lunged forward—BAM!
Her forehead connected squarely with his stomach in a mini rocket headbutt.
"Ugh?!"
Kanade bent over with a muffled groan. What the heck?! He was just trying to help! A white hair today could mean a full-blown silver mane tomorrow! And this was the thanks he got?
Next time… he was definitely going to mind his own business.
===========================
After the headbutt of justice, the mood between them finally began to settle.
Miko still had her cheeks puffed, clearly holding onto her grudge, but her legs betrayed her—obediently following him step for step down the street. She might be mad, but her body was completely honest.
Kanade figured it was better to let her cool off on her own. So, without pushing the conversation further, he played the role of a quiet guide.
Eventually, the two of them arrived at a self-service yakiniku restaurant. The place was bustling, filled with customers, the sound of sizzling meat in the air. At first, it seemed like they'd have to queue, but luckily, a friendly waiter led them upstairs.
"The second floor's a bit more out of the way," the waiter said with a smile. "You'll have to come down for food, but it's quieter. Very suitable for young couples like you two."
Kanade turned to Miko to ask if she was okay with the seats, but before he could say anything, her brain had already short-circuited.
"Eh? W-Wait, explain? Um, no! We're not a couple!"
Kanade sighed quietly. I was asking if this seat was okay, not if we're dating… But he didn't blame her—she clearly felt the need to clarify.
"Ah, gomen," the waiter scratched the back of his head, chuckling awkwardly. "I must've misread the situation…"
Kanade noticed the waiter glancing at him with a weird expression. Wait a second—was that pity?
No, no, no. It wasn't like that! He wasn't some lovesick guy who'd been friend-zoned to oblivion!
Before he could say anything, Miko's voice came again.
"N-No, it's fine… but… do we really look like a couple?" she asked shyly, cheeks tinged with pink.
The waiter, now thoroughly confused, looked between the two of them for help.
Kanade felt an odd sense of camaraderie with the poor man. They were both just trying to survive this conversation.
"Ahem," Kanade cleared his throat. "Actually, this spot's not bad. No line, nice and quiet. Let's just sit here, yeah?"
"Ah…" Miko Iino finally snapped out of her spiral of panic and embarrassment, nodding quickly as if trying to play it cool. "Y-Yes, I think this spot is really nice too…"
Her lips said one thing, but her heart was a total mess, practically screaming at itself in anguish: What the heck am I even saying?! Doesn't this totally make it seem like I care what Senpai thinks?! Uwaaaah~ embarrassing!
Fortunately, the awkward moment seemed to pass unnoticed.
Noticing the slight shift in the atmosphere—one that tiptoed toward romantic—the kind waiter let out a discreet sigh of relief. He'd been on thin ice there for a second.
"Then I'll leave you two lovebirds to it," he said with a wink. "I'll bring up the condiments in just a bit, so please wait a moment."
"Okay, thank you very much," Natsukawa Kanade replied politely, giving a slight bow.
With the waiter gone, the two took their seats by the window. After setting down their belongings, they stood up almost in unison, heading downstairs to grab food.
There was no need to narrate the whole ordeal—after all, it was just your typical self-service system. Everyone picked what they liked. However, because the constant up-and-down trips were a bit of a hassle, Kanade decided to load up on a decent amount in one go to reduce the number of journeys.
He hadn't expected Miko to have the same idea. In fact, she had gone even further, stacking her tray with enough ingredients to nearly rival the peak of Mount Fuji.
"…Uhh, you don't have to go that hard," Kanade blinked, staring at the Everest-level pile of meat and vegetables. "Taking a few more steps is good for digestion after the meal, y'know."
He honestly felt a little overwhelmed. She'd brought so much it was like she was preparing for a siege, not dinner.
Was she really that determined not to make any extra trips?
But Miko simply nodded seriously, as if this were a life-or-death matter.
"Yes, I agree. This method is… optimal."
Kanade gave a resigned shrug. So stubborn… But at least she looked confident in her choices.
With everything laid out, the two returned to their table, and the stove slowly began to heat up. The grill crackled faintly as the fire awakened, though it would take a few more moments to reach full heat.
Waiting in silence felt kind of awkward, though. So Kanade casually tried to start a conversation.
"Is this your first time at this kind of place?" he asked, eyes still on the grill.
It wasn't just idle small talk. He'd been curious ever since she brought up the idea. All-you-can-eat yakiniku joints weren't exactly "girly" hangouts. They had a definite ojisan energy to them—like ramen shops or retro cafés. Most girls would rather go for sweets or trendy cafés.
But Miko? She'd clearly chosen this spot with purpose. After spending the morning with her, Kanade had already noticed her unusually healthy appetite. She could match him bite for bite. Honestly, she might even surpass him. Plus, she clearly had a thing for food—she even took notes.
So maybe this place wasn't just about the food. Maybe she wanted to test the waters of a "guy-friendly" location… all while tagging along with him.
"Yeah, it's my first time," Miko said, her eyes sparkling as she watched the fire build under the grill. "I've always wanted to try, but… I was kind of nervous."
She'd avoided self-service joints up until now, mainly because she didn't want to attract too much attention with her surprisingly large appetite. Barbecue places where you had to order were more discreet—and easier to control the portions. But the price was much steeper. So even though she had enough pocket money, she preferred to save it up for trying more variety.
"I see…" Kanade nodded thoughtfully. Just as I guessed.
"Do you want me to help grill the meat?" he offered, glancing at her mountain of food.
"No need," Miko replied firmly, already reaching for the tongs with a look of dangerous anticipation. "I've got it."
Kanade watched her, unimpressed but amused. Her excitement was obvious, but so was her inexperience.
She's way too eager…
Clearly, Miko didn't understand the true essence of buffet yakiniku. The art wasn't in how much you grabbed at once—it was in the selection. A true yakiniku master picked only what they wanted to eat—favorites, maybe a few things to try. You didn't just throw everything on your tray like it was a survival challenge.
This was where she'd learn. Kanade would let her make her mistakes, but she'd taste the consequences. He would, of course, help her out later—but first, she needed to feel the pain of her overeager greed.
Lesson one: Patience is the soul of yakiniku.
You had to wait for the fire to be just right, then place each piece with care—like a ceremony. Time the flips just right, let the juices lock in, then dip or sprinkle with seasoning before savoring each bite.
It wasn't just eating. It was experiencing. The sizzling sounds, the rising aroma, the perfectly grilled textures—these were the core elements of the true yakiniku experience.
If he were a bit older, he'd absolutely be pairing this with a chilled glass of sake. But since he was still underage—and didn't want to be a bad influence on his overly curious shoujo heroine—he opted for soda instead.
Repeating the sacred yakiniku ritual several times—grill, dip, taste, repeat—meant Kanade could now say with confidence that he had sampled the full glory of the feast. After that, depending on his mood, he'd either take a short break to savor the lingering flavors… or dive back into battle.
This time, though, he decided to play it a little cooler—to perform, in a way. With an air of elegance, he deliberately slowed down his movements, letting each bite carry meaning. He wasn't just eating; he was enjoying. He hoped that by setting an example, maybe… just maybe, Miko would be inspired to savor it too.
Raising his head, he cast a sidelong glance at her.
And then… he froze.
In his field of vision was Miko—shoulders leaned slightly forward, eyes laser-focused on the grill. Her right hand held the tongs like a sacred weapon, her gaze burning with an intensity that could light the coals on its own. It was like staring into the eyes of a warrior at the height of battle. No—more than that. Her eyes gleamed with what could only be described as… barbecue light.
"…"
Kanade blinked. Had he just imagined that?
No. The next moment proved he hadn't.
Just as the marbled slices of meat began to sizzle with a golden crust, Miko's eyes narrowed slightly. Without hesitation—like a kunoichi executing a precision strike—her right hand moved, flipping the steak in one swift motion.
W-wha—?!
Kanade could barely track the movement.
That speed… that grace… that timing!
But… wait. That wasn't all.
His expression gradually shifted from casual amusement to solemn awe.
Her ears… they twitched.
Yes. He was certain now. Just before she flipped the meat, her ears had subtly moved. Almost imperceptibly. Like a wild animal responding to the softest rustle in the forest.
Could it be…?!
She had judged the flipping time—not by sight, but by sound?! By listening to the sizzling rhythm of the meat, the way the oils hissed and popped as they hit the grill?
"…Unbelievable…"
This wasn't just skill.
This was instinct. Talent. Enlightenment!
This girl—this tiny, seemingly innocent elementary school girl—was no mere beginner.
She was a barbecue sage.
"…I was too naïve."
Kanade's gaze grew heavy with emotion.
This wasn't a novice he had to guide gently through her first yakiniku experience. No… this was a master. A seasoned practitioner of the flame. A shokunin of the sacred grill.
"Miko… is this really your first time at a yakiniku buffet?" he asked cautiously, back straightening with uncharacteristic seriousness.
"Eh?" Miko finally looked up, slightly confused. "Oh, yeah! It's my first time at a buffet place like this, but… I've been to a bunch of barbecue restaurants before."
"…I see." Kanade slowly exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing.
It wasn't that she was a natural-born genius after all… she was just someone who had trained in the shadows. A hidden master who had sharpened her blade—and her taste buds—through tireless experience.
She wasn't a prodigy… she was a veteran.
Kanade lowered his head respectfully. "Then I was out of line…"
In his heart, this was no longer just dinner. This was a spiritual exchange. A ritual of flame and meat that transcended mere hunger.
He nearly dropped to seiza right there, ready to kneel on the floor in proper disciple posture, but…
No. There was meat still grilling. To abandon the flame now would be an insult to the sacred beast they were about to devour.
Still, the gesture of his heart remained.
It was the solemn bow of a student acknowledging his superior.
On the other side of the table, Iino tilted her head, confused.
"…What's wrong with Senpai?" she mumbled, watching him behave like a monk in deep reflection. "Is he… digesting?"
Her confusion deepened when she glanced at her own plate.
Eh?! I'm still on the first round of ingredients?!
And there was still so much left!
A pink flush crept across her cheeks.
No, no no… this is too much. This is super embarrassing! I can't just—just keep eating like this!
She'd always been careful not to expose her monstrous appetite in front of others. That was why she avoided buffets in the first place. But now here she was, face-to-face with someone she actually knew—and not just that, someone she… respected.
And now? She'd just revealed her inner glutton!
Feeling like she wanted to bury herself under the table, Iino shrank her neck slightly, her voice weak. "Umm… my appetite is usually… not this big… probably…"
Kanade blinked in confusion. Huh?
He puzzled over her sudden embarrassment until it hit him.
Ah… I see. She must be nervous from me watching her grill.
It wasn't about the food—it was the pressure.
He'd seen it happen to himself. Whenever his senpai from the cooking club stared too hard, even his hands would start to shake.
Yes… yes, that's probably it.
He nodded sagely to himself.
The technique may not pass easily from master to student, but the spirit… the spirit could be inherited.
Even if she had walked a path different from his own, Miko Iino had preserved the most sacred ideal of the barbecue soul:
To approach each grill with the heart of a beginner.
No matter how skilled you become… you must always respect the flame as if it's your first time.
Kanade placed his hand solemnly over his heart.
Master Miko… I shall never forget this lesson.