Warm Persistent Smile

Yet, like a lioness surpassing the king of the jungle, a newcomer named Alina strode into the scene, her presence immediately commanding attention.

Her intense gaze swept over them, a wordless warning that they better cease their derisive comments before they faced dire consequences.

With a swift hand gesture, an Upper Society staff member positioned near the speaker swiftly adjusted his stance, a clear indication of the newcomer's authority, Alina The Wolf.

"Hobe!" Alina's voice, firm and deep, resonated within Hobe's being, cutting through the chaos and turmoil that surrounded him.

The sound of her voice was a lifeline, a beacon of stability amidst the storm of emotions that raged within him.

A mixture of calm, panic, relief, and chaos filled him, his heart racing as he processed the sudden shift in the situation.

"Miya? It's you, right? Where's Hari? Is she okay?" Hobe's voice quivered with desperation, each word carrying the weight of his concern for his sister.

"Hari! Where is she?! You can't be mute, you must answer me right away! Is she okay? Where's Hari? She's not hurt, is she?" Hobe's questions tumbled out, a torrent of anxiety and fear that reflected his deep bond with his sister.

Alina remained stoically silent, her gaze unwavering as she observed Hobe from the outside. Her cold demeanor masked the complexity of emotions swirling beneath the surface, her aura radiating a simmering potential for both strength and volatility.

"Miya? Can you hear me? Where am I? Miya, you can't forget our past, right?" Hobe's words were a deliberate prodding, a tactic to pierce through Alina's facade and compel her to confront the painful memories they shared, memories she had tried to bury deep within her.

Alina's silence spoke volumes about her aversion to that name, that past...

She despised for it all.

~~~~

***flashback***

In the midst of the cacophonous night, where the sounds of passing vehicles, the chatter of countless people engaged in conversation, and the calls of nocturnal creatures blended into a symphony of urban chaos, there existed a few dark alleys.

These alleys were the breeding grounds for various forms of illicit activities—a place where secrets, cunning, and underground dealings thrived.

However, amid this bustling night, there was one particular alley that stood on the outskirts of the city.

A young girl, draped in a long-hooded jacket, navigated her way through its winding path. Her fingers traced the uneven surfaces, preventing her from stumbling over the alley's imperfections.

After a while, she arrived at the entrance of the alley. The dim glow of distant streetlights and the sporadic illumination from small eateries dazzled her vision, creating a surreal ambiance in the otherwise gloomy surroundings.

Not far from her current location, she spotted Hobe, patiently waiting for her arrival. He immediately noticed her and gestured for her to join him.

Without hesitation, she entered the restaurant, and Hobe, ever the dedicated worker, was already in the process of heating up the soup, a task he had perfected through countless repetitions.

The fast-food restaurant where Hobe worked occupied a prime spot on the mall's ground floor, strategically designed for accessibility both from within the mall and the outside.

Its inviting storefront beckoned hungry shoppers with colorful displays of their menu items, promising quick and satisfying meals in the midst of a shopping spree.

As Miyagome entered, Hobe greeted her with a warm and wide smile.

Hobe's smile, as warm and wide as it was, seemed to grate on Miyagome's nerves. It held an air of friendliness that Miyagome found almost suffocating. She couldn't fathom how he managed to maintain such a demeanor despite the circumstances.

Miyagome despised that smile...

First, it was too friendly.

Second, it was too wide.

Third, Miyagome absolutely loathed Hobe.

"Oh, hey. You're quite late this time. Maybe the soup is a bit watery since it's been reheated several times."

Miyagome's entrance seemed to momentarily alter the restaurant's atmosphere. Her presence introduced a tense undercurrent, a palpable discomfort that hung in the air.

As she settled into one of the rustic wooden chairs, her silence spoke volumes. It was a silence filled with unspoken words, a conversation left unsaid.

Hobe's hands moved with practiced grace as he prepared Miyagome's meal. He ladled the reheated soup into a bowl and placed it gently before her.

The warm aroma of the soup filled the air, a familiar and comforting scent that had once meant something more to both of them.

Placing the bowl in front of Miyagome, Hobe's warm smile contrasted sharply with her frosty demeanor.

His customer, however, remained silent, her gaze fixed on the meal before her, her thoughts hidden behind a mask of indifference.

"Here you go! Hot soup and warm chicken rice, and I've added a bonus of hot tea, just for you." Hobe's warm smile clashed with the coldness in Miyagome's eyes.

Miyagome stared at the spread of food before her, the silence between them growing heavy and stifling.

Hobe's enthusiasm waned, and he appeared crestfallen. He had hoped for a chance to sit with Miyagome, to chat with the girl he held in such high regard, but her evident disapproval left him feeling deflated.

"Oh... um... alright, I'll... I'll head back to work then... enjoy your meal." Hobe's departure was marked by an endearing awkwardness, but Miyagome's mood was too somber to notice.

After the young man made his exit, Miyagome found herself unable to hold back her tears any longer.

They trickled down, finding their unfortunate landing spot on her plate of chicken rice. It was as if even her tears couldn't escape the relentless pull of her hunger.

Now, when it came to Hobe's food, she was like a vacuum cleaner, nothing left behind. Didn't matter if her body was a mess of aches and pains; she'd chow down like there was no tomorrow.

As for those persistent, warm smiles of Hobe's, well, she had become quite skilled at ignoring them.

~~~

The antique ceramic vase shattered into a multitude of pieces, scattering across the floor like stars in a dark sky.