When Glances Bloom

The ramen shop was alive with the heartbeat of Kokishibu—boisterous, warm, and unapologetically joyful. The place was bigger than Mireyna expected, beautifully decorated with hanging paper lanterns, wooden beams aged with stories, and walls lined with nostalgic calligraphy. It wasn't just a restaurant—it felt like the very soul of the village.

Laughter echoed from every corner. Groups of villagers gathered at low wooden tables, clinking cups of sake, singing off-key folk songs, and talking over one another with such cheer that the air itself seemed to sparkle. There was no quiet here, but Mireyna didn't mind. In fact, she loved it.

Unlike the cold politeness of Tokyo or the stiff elegance of her cousins in Italy, this loud, chaotic warmth filled something in her that she never realized had been empty. Her eyes shimmered with delight as she took another bite of ramen—thick, springy noodles soaked in a rich, golden broth. Beside it sat onigiri—soft rice balls wrapped neatly in nori, still warm from the kitchen—and a small tray of colorful mochi. It was simple, but perfect.

Her face lit up with genuine joy, a small rosy blush blooming on her cheeks as she looked around the table. Her grandfather animatedly told a ridiculous old story, arms flailing for effect, while the two bodyguards—intimidating in stature but clearly soft at heart—burst into hearty, unfiltered laughter, slapping the table as one of them nearly choked on a bite of mochi. Even her usually composed grandmother let out a chuckle.

Mireyna covered her mouth as she giggled uncontrollably. For the first time in a long while, her heart felt full. This..this was what happiness taste like…

Their table was overflowing with warmth—steaming bowls of ramen, glossy onigiri stacked like treasures, and colorful mochi that looked almost too pretty to eat. The air was rich with the comforting scent of broth and soy, and the soft clinking of chopsticks created a gentle rhythm under the lively chatter of the shop.

Just then, Mireyna's grandfather leaned forward with a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling like a boy about to share a secret. "You know," he began, in a playful tone, "when I was young, I almost married the daughter of the mochi seller!"

Mireyna gasped dramatically. "Ojīchan! Really?"

The two bodyguards, who had been silently and stiffly trying to look professional, glanced at each other—and cracked. One choked on his ramen, trying to hold in laughter, while the other covered his face with his hand, shoulders trembling as he failed to maintain his composure.

"She was beautiful, yes," Ojīchan continued, slurping his noodles with flair. "But I chose your Obāchan instead. Because she threatened to throw miso soup on me if I didn't!"

Obāchan, sitting beside him, flicked his shoulder with a chuckle. "Liar. You were the one begging to marry me."

The whole table burst into laughter. Even the bodyguards, now completely giving up on looking intimidating, laughed like children—one of them even had a rice grain stuck to his cheek. Mireyna clutched her stomach, laughing so hard tears welled up in her eyes.

She had never seen them like this before. These men, usually silent shadows behind her, now smiled wide with crooked grins, slurped noodles like schoolboys, and reached for mochi with sparkling eyes. The sight was so heartwarming, it made her chest ache in the most pleasant way.

Obāchan looked around at them all, her family—so different, so lively—and smiled to herself, sipping her tea. "Ahh… this is what happiness looks like."

And for the first time in a long time, Mireyna agreed completely.

Unbeknownst to her, someone had been quietly watching from a table just a few steps behind.

Isao sat with Mio and Shion, who were both too busy enjoying their food to notice anything else. Shion, lively as ever, was devouring his onigiri with boyish delight, while Mio slurped her ramen with an exaggerated hum of approval, nodding to herself between bites. The three of them had arrived earlier, tucked into a cozy corner near the back—Shion had insisted they eat there, swearing the ramen was "legendary".

But unlike them, Isao hadn't touched his food.

His gaze remained fixed on one person—Mireyna.

She sat just ahead, surrounded by warmth, laughter, and the glow of orange lantern light. Her cheeks were rosy with happiness as she laughed at her grandfather's jokes, occasionally glancing shyly at her oversized bodyguards who acted more like children than men. The sound of her laughter, genuine and unrestrained, cut through the noise of the busy shop like sunlight through mist.

Isao's eyes softened.

Her short hair framed her face in a way that made her look delicate, but strong. Her smile wasn't the kind girls practiced in mirrors. It was real. Joyful. And it tugged at something deep in his chest.

Mireyna.

She was laughing—freely, unguarded. Her cheeks dusted pink from joy, not embarrassment. That radiant, warm expression caught Isao off guard. There was something about her that drew him in, and not because he'd known her long. In fact, they had only just met the day before. He had no childhood memories to connect her to—no history or stories. And yet, at that moment, it felt like he'd known her far longer.

Her laughter rang like a bell, sweet and clear, as she giggled at her grandfather's jokes and the way the two massive bodyguards tried to eat rice balls politely but ended up looking like overgrown toddlers. The scene was… genuine. And it made Isao's chest feel oddly tight.

He watched quietly, saying nothing, his ramen long forgotten.

To him, she was beautiful—not just in appearance, but in a way that went deeper. Something within her radiated warmth, sincerity… life.

Her smile, the way her cheeks flushed as she playfully teased the bodyguards, made his heart race without him even realizing it. He couldn't take his eyes off her. There was something about the way she carried herself — a warmth, a liveliness that radiated from deep within.

Mireyna wasn't just beautiful in the traditional sense. Her beauty wasn't painted on like the others. No, it was something deeper, something real, something that shone through every laugh, every gesture. She was more than just a pretty face. She was… alive.

As she twirled her chopsticks in her ramen, giggling at one of the bodyguards who was trying too hard to act serious, Isao's heart fluttered. It wasn't just the way she looked, though she was undeniably stunning. It was the way her spirit seemed to fill the room, making everything feel brighter.

To Isao, most people's beauty was like a painting..pleasing to the eye but flat, lifeless. 

but Mireyna…

She was so full of life, and as the thought crossed Isao's mind, a sudden realization hit him. Was he starting to feel something for Mireyna? He shook the thought away in surprise. He had never really felt this way about anyone before..never thought he could have a crush. But could it really be… on Mireyna? He dismissed the idea quickly, unsure of what to make of the strange fluttering in his chest.

Mio and Shion exchanged a look.

"Brother Isao?" Mio squinted at him suspiciously. "Why is your face red? Are you… blushing?"

Isao flinched, quickly turning his face away. "W-What? No no! The ramen's spicy, that's all."

Both of them slowly looked down at his bowl.

Then back up at him.

Then down again.

The ramen sat perfectly still—stone cold, untouched, not even a single noodle disturbed.

"Spicy?" Shion raised a brow. "That thing's been cold since we sat down. The toppings haven't even moved."

Isao cleared his throat awkwardly. "It's just… hot in here..."

Mio gave a skeptical nod. "Hmm… okay."

Trying to recover, he focused on his ramen, taking a slow bite while sneaking another glance toward Mireyna. A faint smile tugged at his lips without him realizing it.

Shion watched him carefully. Why is he smiling like that? He never smiles like that. Is the ramen really that good…?

But despite the stolen glances and warm blush, Mireyna remained completely unaware, laughing joyfully with her grandparents, her smile glowing brighter than the lanterns overhead.