Dinner at His Pace

Kaito looked around the simple family restaurant. Low tables surrounded by tatami mats, soft lighting, a quiet atmosphere. She had clearly chosen this place for him; Ayaka would have preferred somewhere livelier. The Ebiten Soba in front of them was plain but comforting. In the last six months, she had learned how to match his pace.

His teammates, who had known him for years, had dragged him to a loud ramen stall just the day before, all chaos, laughter, and forced “fun.” He smiled at the thought. This was the first time since moving to Tokyo that he had had two celebration meals. One with the people who knew the athlete. And now, one with the woman who knew the person.

Ayaka had been quietly watching him take in the restaurant. She knew exactly what he was thinking. This place is not her style. And he was right. It was not. But he was the one who had just won yet another national championship gold medal. Tonight should fit his pace, not hers.

She gave him a disappointed look. “What are we here for again?”

“What?” Kaito blinked, startled. “For my medal… right?”

Ayaka tapped her chin, pretending to search her memory. “Oh, right. I almost forgot. It was so long ago.”

It had only been two days. He had needed time to travel back, and it was tradition to eat with the team first. She knew that. She just enjoyed poking at him.

“They wouldn’t let me go,” he said quickly. “I’ll try harder to celebrate with you first from now on.”

He was so earnest that it made the teasing almost unfair. She knew her limits; he might panic if she pushed further.

“I’m messing with you,” Ayaka said, dipping her noodles. “Customs are customs. Don’t break them for me or the cannibals will eat me alive.”

Kaito relaxed. She always backed down eventually. The awkwardness between them still flickered now and then, but he blamed that on himself more than anything.

“I never asked,” she said, “do you send your medals home like I do?”

Ayaka paused. She had thought she had asked every question about him as an athlete at this point. How had she forgotten such a simple one?

“Sort of,” he said. “I send them to my obaasan.”

He took a bite of tempura, waited until he had swallowed, then added quietly, “I can’t trust them with my parents. I am not sure what my otousan would do with them.”

Another small truth, offered without hesitation. If he ever lied to her, she would fall for it instantly.

“The two times I talked to your otousan, he seemed like a good man,” Ayaka said honestly. He had always been supportive of their relationship.

“He is a good man,” Kaito admitted. “He just does not know the word ‘responsibility.’”

Ayaka nodded. “I never would’ve imagined.”

She leaned forward, studying him as if he were a puzzle piece she had just discovered. “Am I getting to know a new side of Hayasaka Kaito?”

Kaito paused mid‑bite, then set his chopsticks down and gave her a formal bow.

“Yes, Ms Reporter. I have answered all your questions.”

Ayaka pushed back from the table, hands braced behind her, giving him a mock threatening glare.

“I would never join the cannibals. Not even if someone paid me to cosplay as one.”

They both laughed, the sound soft and warm in the quiet restaurant, and returned to their meal, comfortable, settled, and finally moving at the same pace.

Two reporters were waiting outside the restaurant when they stepped out. Flashes burst in their faces, questions firing about their relationship. Ayaka froze for half a second; she had not been ambushed like this since her Olympic failures.

She turned just in time to see Kaito shrink back, confusion flickering across his face, his instinct to hide written in every line of his posture. He had only just begun to find his footing with the media again. This could undo all of it.

Ayaka didn’t think. She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the bus that had just hissed to a stop on the street ahead. The doors opened; they both managed to make it onto the bus and watched the reporters drift away.

She regained her composure at the sight of them disappearing behind the bus. Only then did she realise they were heading in the wrong direction entirely.

But Kaito was breathing evenly again. He looked at her with that quiet gratitude he never said aloud but always carried in his eyes.

Now that they were safe, she began thinking about what had just happened. This is going to be a mess, she thought. She was more concerned about what it might do to him than to herself. She was used to negative publicity.

The articles were online before they even made it back to Ajinomoto. By the time the taxi dropped them off, Ayaka had already received multiple notifications on her phone. They hurried inside the building, slipping through the doors before any reporters could gather.

They pressed their backs against the wall just inside the entrance, catching their breath for what felt like the first time since the restaurant. For a moment, neither spoke. Then they looked at each other, wide‑eyed, exhausted, and burst into quiet laughter.

When Ayaka finally felt her heartbeat slow, she pulled out her phone to assess the damage. The photos were not just from outside the eatery. They were from inside too. She had never planned to hide their relationship, but this… this felt like being intruded on, plain and simple.

Still, the articles were small‑time tabloids. Headlines about their “cozy dinner,” nothing outrageous. She exhaled, long and slow, and tucked her phone away.

“So far, I don’t feel like I’m being eaten alive,” she said, relief softening her voice.

Kaito reached out and straightened her invisible crown. “Guess this didn’t get another dent.”

He had grown more playful with her these past months, and she had grown to love it, the way he let himself be light around her. She smiled, and together they walked deeper into the facility, side by side, steady again.

Reiko spotted her athlete from across the lobby and rushed toward her, hands flying over Ayaka’s arms and shoulders as if checking for injuries.

“Sensei, what are you doing? That tickles.” Ayaka squirmed, completely herself.

Reiko let out a long breath of relief, then hooked an arm around her and steered her toward the office for debriefing. Ayaka managed a quick wave at Kaito as she was dragged away like a misbehaving child.

Kaito waved back, a small smile tugging at his mouth, before turning down the hall to face whatever lecture his own coach had prepared for him.