Sour Plums and New Beginnings

The bowl of sour plum fried rice sat steaming under the tavern's warm lights.

The rice, white and glistening like snow under the moon, was studded with glimmering fragments of deep red sour plums—bright jewels scattered through a simple canvas. Each glossy grain, each ruby dot, called attention not just to the flavor, but the harmony of contrast.

Sweet and sour.

Soft and crisp.

Familiar, yet completely unexpected.

Anne took another bite.

And then another.

And another still.

Until finally—

Her eyes brimmed with tears.

Not from sadness, nor from spice.

But from a feeling so pure and rare that words couldn't capture it.

Wonder.

The fried rice, with its bold blend of tart and savory, coaxed a smile to her lips and memories from the corners of her heart.

To some, mixing sour plums into fried rice might sound insane.

But to those with knowledge of tradition, it was anything but.

Japan had long celebrated umeboshi—pickled plum—in rice balls and congee. That bold burst of acid had soothed tired bodies and warmed lonely souls for centuries.

And yet—

This dish felt like something new.

Something mischievous.

Like a playful prank from a culinary genius.

Anne sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist.

"Owner… I have a request."

Her voice quivered slightly.

"Can you make an extra portion—no, make it two—of the sour plum fried rice… to go?"

Zane looked up from the counter, surprised.

"Of course."

"It's a light dish. Even a gentle lady could eat her fill without worry."

Anne smiled gratefully, bowing slightly.

"Thank you."

Time ticked by quietly.

Each second, each minute, passed like a reel of film, recording fragments of life.

From dawn's soft yawn to the hush of midnight—

From petals in spring to the rustle of autumn leaves—

Time never paused. But it always captured.

Anne soon departed with the packed rice, likely eager to return to Mana and deliver a taste of Zane's tavern to someone waiting in the shadows of the night.

By the time 2 AM rolled around, the tavern's lights began to dim.

Leonora stood up slowly, brushing imaginary dust off her coat.

"Zane, I'll head back now."

"Be safe."

He replied without turning from the counter.

She then turned to her daughter, arms crossed, expression stern.

"Alice."

"During your internship at the tavern, behave."

"This isn't a playground."

"You're here because of a special agreement between Zane and Totsuki. If you mess this up, you won't just embarrass yourself."

"You'll humiliate your grandfather, me—and Totsuki."

Alice rolled her eyes.

"Yes, yes. I know."

"I'll be a good little girl. If Zane says 'one,' I won't dare say 'two.'"

Leonora sighed heavily, then turned to Zane.

"I leave her to you."

"If she misbehaves—discipline her for me."

Zane gave a slight nod.

"Understood. I'll keep her in line."

Satisfied, Leonora finally turned and made her exit, leaving behind a tavern glowing with fatigue and contentment.

"Hisako."

Zane's voice broke the quiet hum.

"Don't worry about the accounts tonight. Come help me with something in the kitchen."

Hisako blinked in surprise but nodded.

"Coming."

She placed her ledger down and hurried behind him.

Erina, watching from across the room, took a step forward.

"Hisako—"

But stopped when she saw her best friend turning away, walking quickly.

As if avoiding her.

Erina's hand lowered slowly.

Then—Ryoko appeared beside her.

She gave Erina's shoulder a gentle pat.

"Haven't you realized?"

"Zane's giving you two a little space."

Erina's eyes widened slightly.

"Wait…"

"You mean…"

Understanding dawned on her face. She looked toward the kitchen with a strange mixture of hope and hesitation.

Inside the brightly lit kitchen, the scent of spice thickened the air.

Zane brought out a large tray lined with small jars.

Purple amomum. Tsaoko. Nutmeg. Cinnamon. Clove. Sichuan pepper. Star anise. Fennel. Costus root. Angelica. Black cardamom. Galangal. Dried ginger.

Thirteen spices in total.

Each jar was a character.

Each grain a note in a song.

"Thirteen Spices?" Hisako asked softly, watching him measure with precision.

Zane nodded.

"The grilled meat's been popular lately."

"I thought we could prepare a fresh batch for customers—let them season their own dishes. Make things more interactive."

Thirteen Spices seasoning—deceptively simple in name.

But each chef's recipe differed.

Ratios. Drying methods. Source. Storage. Roast levels.

Even the sequence of grinding could alter the final taste.

"Thirteen Spices has a strong medicinal aroma," Zane explained. "It enhances some things—destroys others."

"You should never use it in light or delicate dishes. Especially things like mushrooms, chives, steamed fish, soups…"

Hisako nodded. She knew this much.

Still, she was curious.

"Zane… besides Thirteen Spices, what other seasoning blends are popular where you're from?"

Zane smiled.

"Five Spice Powder."

"And of course, Lao Gan Ma's chili sauce."

Hisako giggled lightly.

"So… what's the difference between Five Spice and Thirteen Spices?"

Zane held up his fingers.

"First—neither is exactly five or thirteen ingredients."

"They're flexible, built around flavor balance."

"Five Spice Powder comes from the theory of five elements and five tastes—sour, sweet, bitter, spicy, salty."

"Most versions use Sichuan pepper, cinnamon, star anise, clove, and fennel."

"But others add tangerine peel, ginger, licorice…"

"It depends on the cook."

"Five Spice is often used in pastries—steamed buns, pancakes, snacks."

"Thirteen Spices, though—"

"Is the king of meat."

There was a saying, he added: 'Five Spice for pastries, Thirteen Spices for meat.'

But ultimately?

"Chefs need to feel it. Experiment. Refine."

"Formulas are guides. Taste is truth."

Hisako stood still for a long time, heart racing.

As a practitioner of medicinal cuisine, she had used some of these ingredients before.

But never like this.

Never with this depth.

"Hisako," Zane said gently, turning to face her. "You have talent. Real talent. Your knowledge of herbs, your understanding of balance—it's special."

"But you can't rely on medicinal cuisine alone."

"Not if you want to stand beside Erina… or surpass her."

Hisako's eyes widened.

"Zane…"

"The answers you're looking for—they aren't something Erina can give you."

"Not even I can."

"You've been following others your whole life."

"But the only person who can transform you—"

"Is yourself."

Hisako trembled.

Her hands clenched at her sides.

For so long, she'd devoted herself to Erina. To her duty. To her identity as a secretary.

She had forgotten how to dream as a chef.

"Me…?"

"Can I really still grow?"

She looked up at him with desperate hope.

Zane met her gaze.

"Why wouldn't you?"

"I was once head chef at a five-star hotel."

"I thought I'd peaked."

"But even now, I keep discovering. Keep improving."

"You can too."

Hisako's eyes welled with tears—but this time, they didn't fall.

They shimmered in place like dew at dawn.

"Okay."

"I understand now."

She smiled.

"Thank you… Zane."

Elsewhere in the tavern—

Ryoko sat before a mysterious "cherry."

She blinked, confused.

"This is molecular gastronomy?"

Alice nodded excitedly.

"Yup! It's beef—but shaped like a cherry!"

Ryoko popped it in her mouth.

A moment later, her eyes lit up.

"Wait… sweet and sour? But it's also… rich?"

"It's beef… but it tastes like fruit too?!"

Alice giggled.

"Some of them are real cherries."

"I mixed them in to confuse your taste buds!"

Ryoko laughed in amazement.

She turned toward a rose on the plate.

"And this?"

"Lychee and raspberry," Alice replied. "Shaped into a bead, nestled inside the petals."

Ryoko took a whiff.

A faint fruity scent mingled with floral perfume.

She gently bit down on the red bead.

The flavor exploded.

Fruit. Fragrance. Sweetness.

She closed her eyes.

"This is incredible."

Alice beamed with pride.

Later, in the hallway—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Who is it?" Erina called softly.

A pause.

"Miss… it's me."

The voice was soft, raspy.

"Hisako…"

Erina opened the door instantly.

She reached out and grabbed Hisako's arm in a tight embrace.

"You're here…"

"You're really here."

Hisako nodded.

"I'm sorry… I shouldn't have avoided you. Not after everything."

Erina shook her head, her voice cracking.

"No. I pressured you. I didn't consider your feelings."

"After you lost to Ryo… I just kept pushing."

"But I never stopped needing you."

"You've always been more than a secretary."

"You've always been my strength."

Erina took a deep breath.

"Hisako… will you come back to me?"

The two stood in silence.

Then, gently—

Hisako nodded.

"Always."