32 An Eccentric Sushi Restaurant

The two of them strolled through the shopping mall until it was time for dinner.

"I'm so starving, Kyosuke," Sakura said, blinking her large eyes at Hojo Kyosuke, clutching her stomach with a pitiful expression.

"I told you to go eat earlier, but you wouldn't budge the moment you saw cosmetics," Kyosuke said, holding Sakura's small hand and helping her walk faster.

"But that cosmetic brand was having a special promotion! After buying it, I basically earned back all the money I spent today."

Mentioning cosmetics instantly revived Sakura. She raised the small paper bag in her other hand and spoke happily.

*Earned it the moment you bought it, my foot.* Kyosuke was left speechless by her logic, having no energy left to retort. He could only quicken his pace and pull Sakura toward the famous sushi restaurant in Ikebukuro he had heard about from one of his subordinates.

"Hey there, young man, long time no see," came a voice speaking Japanese with a strange accent.

Kyosuke looked up. A Black man, at least two meters tall and dressed in a chef's uniform, was handing him a flyer.

A person dressed as a chef handing out flyers? A tall Black man dressed as a chef? For some unknown reason, this person wearing a chef's uniform to attract customers for a sushi restaurant happened to be a Black man...

Countless retorts instantly welled up in Kyosuke's throat. He felt an intense urge to let them all out, yet had no idea where to even begin, leaving him utterly suffocated.

"Eh? Kyosuke, is that someone you know?"

Yamauchi Sakura also curiously raised her head to look at this incongruous Black man.

"This young lady, long time no see."

The Black chef delivered the exact same line to her.

"Chuckle. How funny," Sakura giggled, taking the flyer. It was indeed an advertisement for "Russia Sushi" right behind the Black man.

"Any discounts?" Sakura asked casually.

"No, no. If I gave discounts, I would die in a shipwreck on the Russian mainland," the Black man replied in that same bizarre cadence.

"Can there be a shipwreck on the mainland?" Sakura asked, bewildered.

"Sakura, let's go inside. This is the place I was talking about," Kyosuke said, holding Sakura's hand and pulling her through the doors of "Russia Sushi."

As his own abilities grew, he gradually developed the capacity to sense the aura of different people—or rather, to smell their "scent."

Take Sakura, for instance. Her "scent" was like morning dew: fresh and brimming with vitality. Every second spent with her made Kyosuke feel relaxed and happy, completely free of worries.

As for the Black man outside, Kyosuke could distinctly smell the scent of gunpowder lingering on him—a scent far bloodier than that of any delinquents.

***

Stepping inside the restaurant, Kyosuke's face immediately fell.

For a sushi restaurant, the greeter at the door was a Black man, and the chef inside was a deadpan White man.

"Sakura, let's go somewhere else," Kyosuke said, turning around as if to leave.

"Since we're already here, isn't it quite interesting?" Sakura said, curiously examining the restaurant's interior decoration.

The two followed a waiter into a small private booth and put their heads together to study the menu.

Deep-fried sushi, cheese sushi, mapo tofu sushi, borscht sushi, sour cream sushi...

"Could it be that they think anything at all can become sushi as long as you put it on top of vinegared rice?"

Sakura guessed, leaving the two of them staring at each other in blank dismay.

"They all look so delicious!" After a brief moment of daze, Sakura said with sudden delight.

"These are clearly culinary atrocities, aren't they? There's no way any of this tastes good."

Seeing Sakura's cheerful expression, Kyosuke forcefully suppressed the urge to walk out.

"In this brief life, being able to eat so many foods all at once that other people have never seen in a lifetime—how lucky is that!" Sakura handed the menu to the waiter and excitedly exclaimed:

"Please give us this set meal!"

"There's no helping you."

The deadpan White chef personally served the dishes they ordered. Kyosuke glanced at them and hurriedly averted his gaze.

True to form, it seemed everything could be turned into tempura, and anything paired with vinegared rice counted as sushi.

Separately, the ingredients of these dishes could each stand alone as wonderful meals, yet the chef had stubbornly combined them together. He truly didn't know whether to marvel at the terrifying creativity or the so-called craftsmanship.

Is this, by any chance, the culinary dao of a White sushi master?

Lost in wild fantasies, Kyosuke watched as Sakura fearlessly picked up a "sour cream sushi" and popped it into her mouth.

Watching Sakura's crimson, lovely lips continuously chew and wriggle, Kyosuke couldn't help but feel his own appetite stirred. Sure enough, food always tastes better when you have something pleasant to look at while eating. When looking at a beautiful girl like Sakura, even unpalatable food would become delicious, and good food would transform into glowing, heavenly cuisine.

Kyosuke picked up what looked like the most normal hand-rolled ice cream sushi and mustered the courage to shove it into his mouth.

There was no such thing as an unexpected pleasant flavor; Kyosuke resolved never to set foot in this restaurant again.

***

Sakura, on the other hand, ate with great relish, single-handedly devouring the vast majority of the sushi.

"Sakura, are you really alright?"

Kyosuke asked worriedly. Could this kind of stuff genuinely be consumed by a normal human? Wasn't it entirely possible that Sakura's pancreatic illness would be triggered by this single meal of sushi?

"Should we go straight to the hospital for a check-up?"

"Giggle. Kyosuke, you're exaggerating way too much. These sushis just look a little weird, but they taste alright, don't they?"

Seeing Kyosuke's worried expression, Sakura giggled, patted his shoulder, and picked up the very last item left on the table.

A fortune cookie, courtesy of the house.

A fortune cookie is a crisp cookie containing a slip of paper with a fortune written on it.

The people of Japan seemed to really like these things. Finding a cookie with a good fortune could make someone happy for a long time, much like right now.

"Kyosuke, Kyosuke! Look at mine!" Sakura said excitedly, a massive smile on her face, clearly overjoyed.

Kyosuke looked over. Unfolded in Sakura's palm was a small strip of paper with just four characters written on it: "Good health."

At that moment, he finally understood why the Japanese people loved these so much, because he felt a wave of happiness wash over him as well. Sakura—she would definitely enjoy good health until the day she reached a ripe old age.

"Hurry up and check yours!" Sakura urged.

Kyosuke snapped open his cookie. Inside was also a four-character message.

"Harmonious family."

Ah, right to the heart! Recalling that night at Nezu Shrine, Kyosuke sincerely hoped this fortune would come true, just like Sakura's.

"A harmonious family? Of course we'll have a harmonious family, right, Kyosuke?" Sakura asked, hugging Kyosuke's arm.

"Yeah, right, we'll both be completely fine," Kyosuke nodded heavily.