Chapter 106: Love Is War
We decided to scatter and buy food from the street stalls.
It seemed more efficient to split up rather than move around in a group of eight.
The person who would buy yakisoba with me was decided by rock-paper-scissors, and after a fierce battle, Sasha was the winner.
“Hmph, of course, it’s me.”
Sasha proudly raised her nose, while the losers looked on enviously.
Honestly, I didn’t know what they were doing.
“Well, let’s go then, Kim Yu-seong.”
“...Okay.”
Sasha grabbed my arm, and after telling the others to meet back at the agreed spot, we headed to the yakisoba place I had noticed earlier.
Yakisoba.
It was one of Japan’s iconic street foods.
It was a simple dish of stir-fried Chinese noodles with vegetables and seasoning, but its sweet and salty sauce flavor made it popular for a long time.
Although it was called soba, some might wonder why it used Chinese noodles instead of buckwheat noodles. The prevailing theory was that yakisoba originated after World War II, using Chinese noodles as a substitute for buckwheat noodles during Japan’s economic downturn.
It was similar to how, in Korea, dishes like tteokbokki, sujebi, and ramen were created to encourage flour consumption.
Anyway, yakisoba appeared quite frequently in Japanese subculture, so honestly, any otaku would know about it.
Therefore, there was a relatively high expectation for its taste, but upon actually trying it, this was the reaction.
“...It’s subtle, isn’t it?”
That was Sasha’s verdict after tasting yakisoba with an expectant expression.
“Most of what’s sold at street stalls is like that.”
If it were made properly in a shop with meat or seafood, it would be somewhat better, but street versions were literally just noodles, cabbage, and seasoning sauce, making the taste quite subtle.
Some people dislike the sour taste of Worcestershire sauce, which was the base for yakisoba seasoning.
“That’s why some people like it and some don’t.”
I said that, shaking the yakisoba containers full in both hands.
“Still, it’s not completely inedible. It has a kind of junk food vibe.”
After hearing my explanation, Sasha said that and slurped up her share of the yakisoba.
That was when we were walking together through the shrine grounds...
“Hey, you passing by! How about a round of shooting?”
A stall owner, busy attracting customers, called out to Sasha as she passed by.
“Hm? Are you talking to me?”
Sasha turned her head, seemingly intrigued.
Did that man know?
That the person he called over was actually the daughter of a Russian mafia who handled guns like limbs.
One thing was certain—the prize of that stall was now Sasha’s.
We met up with the rest of the group at the agreed spot about 10 minutes later.
“What’s that? A teddy bear?”
Seeing the large teddy bear in Sasha’s hand, Karen asked, and Sasha proudly presented it, saying,
“It’s Kumamon the Second.”
Sasha, who had fallen for the stall owner’s pitch, swept up the prizes with her extraordinary shooting skills.
Even to me, who had served as a sergeant in the South Korean military, Sasha’s perfect shooting stance and steady form earned top scores. She won the teddy bear by consecutively hitting targets that seemed to be fixed to the floor with glue using BB pellets.
Before he even started his main business, the stall owner, who had just lost his most expensive prize, handed over the teddy bear with an expression that was hard to tell whether he was laughing or crying.
Anyway, after everyone bought their food, we gathered at one spot and decided to sit on a bench and share the food we had brought.
Since it was Sasha’s first time attending a Japanese festival, she saw many new things and asked with curiosity about the food we were sharing.
“What is this?”
The one who answered, grumbling but still taking care of Sasha, was Karen.
“It’s candy apples. Apples are dipped whole in syrup or sugar water, then taken out and hardened.”
It was similar to the Chinese tanghulu, but the difference was that it was incredibly hard.
Where in Russia was that exactly?
After snacking, we decided to head back the way we came to go goldfish fishing, as Karen had suggested.
“There are a lot of people.”
“The fireworks will start soon.”
Unlike when we first arrived, the crowd had increased so much that it was hard to breathe.
It felt like everyone living nearby had gathered here.
To avoid getting lost, we held hands and moved forward.
There was almost another dispute over who would hold my hand, but rock-paper-scissors settled it.
And this time, it was Karen who held my hand.
“Your hand is big.”
“I hear that a lot.”
Karen’s hand, being under 160cm tall, seemed almost like a baby’s hand compared to mine, which were like pot lids.
Normally, it was hard to notice because of her fierce impression and sharp demeanor, but Karen was quite small.
Even if she wore a middle school uniform, it probably wouldn’t seem out of place.
Feeling the warmth from each other’s hands, we were moving forward when...
Suddenly, an excited voice came from behind.
“Isn’t that Minato Naoya?!”
It was the first time someone recognized Minato’s face.
According to her, if she acted openly and confidently, people would be less suspicious, but it seemed she was recognized this time.
Instantly, all eyes were on us.
“I’m a huge fan! Could you please give me an autograph?”
Minato, seemingly flustered, stuttered her words.
“Uh... um... well.”
“Oh, I don’t have a pen for an autograph! Then, just one photo, please!”
The frivolous man said this while pulling out his smartphone.
Just as I was about to step in...
“Wait a moment.”
Yaguchi, who was standing next to Minato, intervened.
“Right now, Ms. Minato is spending private time with us. If you are a fan, could you please give us a little space?”
Then, the man asking for a photo lowered his smartphone with an embarrassed expression.
“Ah, okay.”
And then he walked past our group, muttering loudly as if he wanted us to hear...
“Charging outrageously high.”
“That jerk!”
Ryuji turned around with an angry expression after hearing that, but Yaguchi stopped him.
“Hold back, Ryuji. There’s no end if we respond to everyone like him.”
Then Ryuji said, “I can’t believe such people exist,” and started walking again.
The atmosphere became awkward in an instant.
Watching our reactions, Minato fidgeted with her hands and then said,
“I’m sorry. Because of me...”
Then Rika and Sasha, as if they had never fought, defended Minato,
“No! It’s that person who is weird!”
“In Russia, they would have been shot already for that.”
Then Minato looked at the two with a touched expression.
It seemed like a strange bond of camaraderie had formed between the three of them.