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The ramen shop is always busy when Ryu comes home for winter break. It's good to see that business is doing well, but part of him wishes that everyone would find another ramen place to frequent, just for a day or two. He hardly gets time to see Chizuru, and while they are spending time together working in the shop, it's not quite the same.
"Heads up Chef, we got four orders of miso ramen for table five," Chizuru says, slapping down an order ticket in front of him.
Ryu picks up the paper and glances at her knowingly. "You swayed them all?"
"Sure did. Convinced them it was the best on the menu—because it is!" She gives him a large grin before swiping a dish towel and spinning on her heel, off to clean more tables.
It's been like this ever since he returned home. They help out all day, alternating between cooking and busing tables, and then they have a few hours to rest before they do it all over again the next day. In some ways it's fun, running the shop together like they own it, but all he really wants is just to spend time with Chizuru.
He wants to walk the familiar, snow covered terrain of their hometown with Chizuru's hand clasped tightly in his, listening to her relay all the local gossip she hears while serving. He wants to sit shoulder to shoulder with her and play video games, and laugh at her when she starts grumbling curses under her breath at all the characters because ‘clearly they're conspiring against me!’ He wants to hold her in his arms in the quiet of his bedroom, and let his lips trail over her skin, hearing the soft sighs and whispers of love and longing that she tells him only in private.
He wants to marry her, but he still has one more year of university to go. He's always been patient, but anytime they're apart it leaves an empty ache in his chest so deep and gaping he wonders if he'll ever feel whole again.
He wants her, plain and simple.
The door slides open and a gust of icy wind swirls into the restaurant, followed by two rumbustious men who've evidently had their share of holiday sake.
"Welcome!" Chizuru's voice rings out cheerfully, and Ryu smiles as he quietly works. Chizuru's always happiest when she's working around bowls of ramen.
He finishes another order and moves onto the next, approaching each task as methodically as the last. Chizuru comes behind the counter and drops off another ticket.
"Table seven is a riot," she laughs, referring to the two drunken men who'd taken a seat. "The guy with the mustache? He tried to ask for my number! Obviously I told him I was taken," she adds, tossing a wink at Ryu, "but he still kept using the cheesiest pickup lines I've ever heard."
Ryu hums, turning his gaze onto the man in question. He doesn't get jealous, not like he used to, but he still doesn't like it when guys repeatedly make a move on her. "Let me know if he becomes a problem."
"It's fine," she says breezily. "I can handle 'em."
He doesn't doubt her, but it still leaves him uneasy, seeing the way the one man's eyes seem to follow her as she waits on tables and wipes down the counters. When she goes to bring them their order, Ryu stops and watches, unable to hear their conversation but able to clearly notice the sudden tensing of Chizuru's shoulders, and the way her voice pitches deeper as though preparing for confrontation.
And then the man reaches out and grabs her wrist.
He’s not sure what comes over him at that moment. One second he’s standing behind the counter, and the next he’s by Chizuru’s side, reaching out his hand and grabbing the man’s arm. He squeezes tightly, and then the words just spill from his mouth.
“Don’t touch my wife.”
The man gapes at him, his unfocused eyes managing to register the coldness of Ryu’s stare. “Sure, yeah,” he slurs, unfurling his fingers from around her wrist. “I was just messing ‘round. Having fun.”
“Then finish your bowls and take your ‘fun’ somewhere else.” Ryu drops the man's arm and turns, letting Chizuru take care of the rest.
His chest is brimming with a quiet fury at the man’s audacity to reach out and grab her like that, but as he returns to his spot in the kitchen he worries that maybe he overreacted. He knows Chizuru could’ve handled the situation herself, just as she does when he’s not around to defend her, but he hates seeing her treated as if she’s just another commodity the restaurant offers rather than an actual human being.
When she walks over a few minutes later, he keeps his eyes determinedly on the scallions he’s cutting, not looking up until she nudges him swiftly in the shin.
“Ow,” he deadpans, and finally spares her a glance.
She raises an eyebrow, and he knows she’s going to launch into a rant about how she can take care of herself, and that she doesn’t need his protection—he’s heard many variations of the same speech before.
But she surprises him.
“So I’m your wife now?” she asks casually, catching him off guard. “Funny, I don’t remember the wedding.”
Ryu pauses, and feels a rare sense of embarrassment overtake him. He ducks his head, hoping Chizuru will attribute the pink in his cheeks to the steam from the ramen bowls around him. He can easily make up some excuse, saying that the man would probably respect her boundaries more if he thought she was a married woman, but he doesn’t want to lie. The word wife simply slipped out of his mouth without him even realizing it. “Sorry. I didn’t want him bothering you anymore,” he says truthfully.
“He was just throwing out more pickup lines,” Chizuru explains with an eye roll. “These ones were a bit more…eh, vulgar than the ones before, but I was going to set him straight.”
“I know. Sorry,” he says again. He’s expecting her ire, but instead Chizuru presses close against his side, her fingers trailing down his forearm before threading their hands together. He startles and looks down at her, and is even more surprised to see the playful gleam in her eyes as she looks up at him.
“Do you often think of me as your wife?” she asks cheekily.
Ryu nods, honest to a fault.
Chizuru hums thoughtfully, and brandishes her left hand into the air. “You better propose soon then, and make it official. I want to marry you the minute you graduate, and we’ll need some time to plan the wedding.”
They’ve talked about getting married plenty of times, but it’s always felt so far away, like an abstract, distant event that has no real shape or substance yet. But now, even though it still feels like an eternity, he’s realizing just how soon a year can fly by.
“I have a ring in my room right now,” he confesses. It’s his mother’s ring, given to him when Toru decided to buy his own for Haruka. His brother had smiled knowingly when he passed it off to him, saying that their mom would’ve wanted Chizuru to be the one to wear it.
Ryu couldn’t agree more.
“W-wait, you do?” Chizuru whips her head around to look at him, stunned, then suddenly smacks him on the arm as her face flushes red. “Now why’d you go and tell me that? You better hide it good, so I don’t accidentally find it. It needs to be a surprise!”
A genuine smile breaks out over his face. He has a sudden urge to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless, and hold her close to him and breathe in the familiar sweet scent of her hair, but they’re in the middle of the kitchen and already he notices a few customers peering over at them curiously, so instead he bottles it up, and vows to shower her in affection later.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be a surprise,” he promises, still smiling as he returns to chopping the vegetables.
Chizuru grumbles under her breath, something that sounds like ‘it better be,’ before she stands on her toes and presses a light kiss to the side of his jaw. Her lips are soft and featherlight against his skin, and a shiver erupts across his body despite the sweltering heat surrounding them. She leans back and smirks, clearly recognizing the effect she has on him.
“I want the proposal to be special, too,” she adds, reaching up to re-tie her bandana. “Something that makes me cry, y’know?”
“You always cry,” he rebuffs, and receives a petulant scowl in return.
“Whatever. Just make sure they're tears of joy and happiness,” she tells him gruffly. She grabs her dish towel and turns to leave when she pauses, and looks back at him.
“For the record, I don’t mind when you defend me. It’s…actually kinda nice,” she admits, twisting the towel between her fingers.
Her admission surprises him yet again, but Ryu accepts her quiet consent with a nod, grateful that she understood the intent of his actions. It’s times like these that he realizes how much they’ve both matured since high school, and how much they’ve learned and grown together as a couple.
They make a good pair, just like he's always believed.
They work in tandem for about another hour until the lunch rush dies down, and Ryu’s dad returns from his delivery run to take over the kitchen.
“Chizu,” his dad calls, beckoning her over with his hand. “Take the rest of the afternoon off, all right? You too, Ryu. You’ve only got a few weeks of break, and you two have been working hard lately.”
“Really? You sure?” Chizuru asks, but she’s already untying her apron and swiping the bandana from her forehead.
“Yeah, I can handle this,” his dad reassures with a wide grin. “You kids have fun.”
Sometimes, Ryu feels like his dad is the one who's most excited about him and Chizuru being together, even more so than Toru is.
It takes only a minute for them to wrap up their shifts and hang up their aprons, and then they’re headed upstairs, with an entire afternoon ahead of them. They sit down on his bed and Chizuru curls herself into his side with a contented sigh, resting her head on his chest just above his heart.
“Well, what do you want to do?” she asks eagerly. “Your choice.”
He thinks about walking with her in the snowy streets, sitting by her side as they level up on their favorite games, and getting to shower her with the love and affection he’s been harboring all day.
He thinks about marrying her, and taking her down to the docks next summer to propose at sunset, in the very same spot where they first made their promise of commitment to each other.
He thinks about how all he wants is to spend time with her, and that he just wants her — plain and simple—and he smiles.
Maybe he’ll get everything he wants after all.