After finishing their meal, Shirakawa and Jora did not leave. Instead, they lingered, observing Salar closely.
"Captain, are you sure you didn't misread him? How could someone like that possibly have a deeply shadowed heart?"
Jora noticed that no matter who Salar dealt with, he always wore a bright, sunny smile that seemed to warm every customer's spirit.
"No, he's just very good at wearing a mask."
Shirakawa didn't know exactly what Salar had been through, but the darkness in his heart was an undeniable fact. Yet after watching him for so long, they had not caught a single crack in his facade.
One by one, the customers filtered out. When the last had gone, Shirakawa and Jora rose and took their leave as well.
Recruiting a crewmate was not something to be rushed. It required patience, a slow process of reaching someone's heart.
"Wait a moment."
As Shirakawa and Jora walked down the road, a voice tinged with age called out from behind them.
"Old timer, is something the matter?"
Shirakawa turned to see a stooped, white haired old man. Just an ordinary elderly fellow, not some retired master hiding his strength.
"I noticed you two kept staring at Salar earlier. Do you have some kind of business with him?"
"You're overthinking it, old timer. We just think Salar's cooking is exceptional, and we wanted to invite him to be our ship's cook."
"Oh, is that all?" The old man's expression relaxed with relief.
"But I'm afraid your plan is bound to fail. He won't leave this place."
"Why is that?" Shirakawa asked, curious. Was there something here that Salar couldn't bear to leave behind?
"Let's find somewhere to sit and talk. Standing around isn't exactly kind to an old man's bones."
"Of course, my apologies." The three of them settled onto a bench beside a flowerbed, Shirakawa and Jora flanking the elderly man.
"Old timer, can you tell me about Salar now?"
"Certainly. Salar is a very pitiful child." With that, the old man's gaze grew distant as he slipped into memory.
It turned out that Salar's mother had once been the most beautiful woman in their town, driving countless young men to distraction. Then one day, a nobleman visited their settlement. Predictably, the two fell in love. But the nobleman had never truly cared for Salar's mother as a person. He only desired her body. And relationships between nobles and commoners were strictly forbidden, let alone marriage.
Once he learned that Salar's mother was with child, the nobleman left without a word, abandoning her completely. From that day on, Salar's mother sank into a deep melancholy. After giving birth to Salar, she fell gravely ill and never recovered.
After hearing the story, Shirakawa asked, "So Salar's mother is still at the restaurant, bedridden?"
"That's right. He has to care for his sick mother. He can't leave. And truth be told, we don't want him to leave either. Where else would we get such delicious food?"
"No argument there. Salar's cooking is truly outstanding."
The old man finished his tale and departed, citing the need for an old man's rest.
"Looks like Salar's childhood was indeed quite unfortunate," Shirakawa mused. "Fatherless from birth, always looking after a sick mother. It would be stranger if he had turned out cheerful."
"Agreed. What bothers me is that the old man mentioned a sick mother, but we didn't see anyone like that at the restaurant."
"Maybe she was resting inside. Being ill, she can't be up and about all the time."
"No. While we were there, aside from Salar and the customers, I didn't sense any other living presence."
"Meaning either his mother isn't there, and the old man's information is outdated."
"Or there's a second possibility. His mother has already passed away."
"Hmm, that makes sense." Jora nodded at Shirakawa's deduction.
"Should we sneak back in and find out for sure?" Jora suggested.
"Let's hold off. We're not leaving anytime soon. Plenty of time for that later. Right now, let's find an inn and get some proper rest. After so long on the ship, even sleeping feels like you're rocking back and forth."
"Fair enough."
The night passed without event.
The next morning, Shirakawa and Jora stepped out together and nearly bumped into Riddle passing by.
"Riddle!" Shirakawa shouted, since Riddle hadn't spotted them.
"Oh, Captain! What are you two doing here?"
"Resting, obviously. Where were you all day yesterday? We didn't see a trace of you."
"Heh heh. Finally got shore leave, so I was out eating, drinking, and having a good time."
"At least you're honest. Though I suspect the last two were the main event."
"By the way, Captain, do you have any plans for today?"
"Perfect timing. Let me take you somewhere. I want you to truly understand just how awful your own cooking is."
Before Riddle could even finish asking, Jora had slung an arm around his neck and was already steering him toward yesterday's restaurant.
Left with no choice, Shirakawa followed. Truth be told, he was already craving that food again himself. Just one night and he wanted more so badly. He half wondered if Salar had spiked the dishes with something addictive.
"Hello, welcome! Please, find a seat anywhere."
That familiar voice rang out again for Shirakawa and Jora. As for Riddle, experiencing Salar for the first time, his expression mirrored exactly what theirs had been the day before.
"Are you a guy or a girl?"
The moment he laid eyes on Salar, Riddle blurted out the question.
Shirakawa and Jora nearly choked trying to suppress their laughter. Sure, Salar was strikingly handsome, but anyone could see he was clearly male.
"I'm a man, of course."
Salar didn't seem offended in the slightest. His expression remained as gentle and pleasant as ever.
"A man? Then how come you're even prettier than our captain?"
The second those thoughtless words left his mouth, Riddle regretted them deeply. He had momentarily forgotten that the captain was standing right behind him.
"Riddle. What did you just say? Say it again for me."
Shirakawa's voice was eerily calm, like the deceptive stillness before a volcano erupts.
"I said... you're even better looking than he is, Captain."
Riddle's voice trembled as he spoke.
"Hmph. Too late." Shirakawa's palm came down squarely on Riddle's head. Thankfully, he held back just enough force. Otherwise, the restaurant floor would have been the one taking damage from Riddle's skull.
"And for the record, it's not 'pretty.' It's 'handsome.'"
Shirakawa gave a proud little sniff and lifted his chin with a hint of tsundere flair.
"You three really have a wonderful bond."
"Of course we do. We're crewmates on the same ship." Shirakawa stated it as a matter of fact. Sure, his three crew members loved to bicker and jab at each other, but if one of them ever found themselves in real danger, the other two would charge in to help without a second thought.
/-\
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