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After school, Akira and Horikita walked side by side toward the second floor of the cafeteria.
He was preparing to keep his promise and treat her to a meal.
The first floor was an affordable public cafeteria, offering daily set meals like rice bowls and ramen.
The second floor, however, was completely different, gathering all kinds of exquisite cuisine—Western restaurants, yakiniku restaurants, and high-end sushi restaurants were all available. Of course, the points consumed were proportionally higher.
Akira then realized that he'd never set foot on the second floor since enrolling.
These days, he'd always eaten his three meals in the spacious first-floor cafeteria.
"Is there anything in particular you want to eat?" Akira asked, turning his head.
Horikita thought for a moment, then replied concisely. "Anything is fine, you decide."
He naturally understood the hidden meaning of the word "whatever," but on second thought, given Horikita's personality, she probably wouldn't have hidden meanings like ordinary girls.
"Then let's have yakiniku," Akira quickly decided.
He'd been intensifying his physical training recently and needed to supplement with high-quality protein, and Horikita had indeed consumed very little meat these past few days.
Yakiniku was undoubtedly an ideal choice.
"Okay," Horikita nodded in agreement.
For her, "whatever" meant exactly that—anything was acceptable.
The two sat down at a two-person table by the window.
The modern ordering method was quite convenient—simply scan the QR code on the table with a phone, and the electronic menu would appear on the screen.
Akira scrolled through the screen, surprised by the detailed classification of Japanese yakiniku.
The menu not only distinguished common cuts like pork belly, sirloin, and shoulder, but also had specialized divisions such as upper leg tendon, loin heart, and leg triangle.
Of course, the rarer the cut, the more expensive the points required.
He casually selected a few recommended meats and added a mango juice for himself.
When settling the bill, he realized that his portion alone cost nearly four thousand points.
He then looked at Horikita's order and found that she'd only chosen two servings of the most basic pork belly.
"You've already ordered a lot..." Horikita keenly noticed his gaze and softly added, "We can always add more if it's not enough, it's not good to waste."
"You're right," Akira nodded understandingly.
Yakiniku was most delicious when grilled and eaten fresh—there was no need to order too much at the beginning.
The waiter came over in due course to start their grill, and the metal plate gradually warmed up, emitting a faint sound.
Plates of grilled meat arrived one after another.
Akira looked around and noticed that the restaurant wasn't very busy.
The few scattered tables of customers were all couples of upperclassmen, who, judging by their school uniforms, were all second or third-year students.
Their interactions were particularly noticeable—the boys thoughtfully used tongs to flip the meat slices, placing perfectly grilled pieces onto the girls' plates.
Accompanied by the sizzling sound of grilling meat.
Intimate laughter gently echoed in the restaurant.
Akira averted his gaze, turning his attention back to the grill in front of him.
The metal plate was already emitting faint wisps of smoke, the temperature just right.
"I'll take care of the grilling," he said, picking up the tongs and laying slices of pork belly on the grill.
The moment the meat touched the high heat, it immediately let out a pleasant "sizzle," and the fat slowly began to render.
Horikita folded her hands on the table, quietly watching his actions.
Her posture was as upright as ever, maintaining a certain sense of formality even in such a relaxed setting.
"Did you often eat yakiniku before?" Akira tried to make conversation.
"Not often, only once," she replied concisely. "Big brother thought this type of food wasn't healthy enough."
The edges of the meat began to curl, emitting an enticing aroma.
Just then, a burst of laughter suddenly came from the next table.
A second-year girl was playfully pushing away the grilled meat her boyfriend offered. "Ugh, this piece is burnt!"
Akira unconsciously looked in the direction of the sound, then quickly averted his gaze.
He secretly observed Horikita opposite him, noticing that her body was stiff, and her fingertips were unconsciously gripping her chopsticks.
"Is this your first time eating out with someone of the opposite sex your age? You seem quite nervous," Akira asked softly.
"...Second time. The first time was with you in the cafeteria, and I wasn't nervous." Horikita paused for a moment before answering, her voice a few shades lower than usual.
"Relax," Akira couldn't help but laugh. "I'm not some dangerous carnivore, even though we're eating yakiniku this time."
"...I know." Her gaze drifted elsewhere, but her tense shoulders seemed to relax slightly.
"Try it." Akira placed the first grilled piece of meat onto her plate.
Horikita elegantly picked up the meat slice and dipped it in a little sauce.
"Barely passable," she commented concisely.
"Well, at least it's edible," Akira breathed a sigh of relief, taking a piece for himself.
"Are you using me as a test subject?" Horikita suddenly looked up.
"What else?" Akira retorted with a smile.
The moment the meat entered his mouth, he realized it was indeed a bit overcooked.
Akira immediately reached out to lower the grill temperature, his movements slightly flustered.
This detail made the corners of Horikita's lips curve slightly upward, though she quickly returned to her usual indifferent expression.
"Next time, remember," she suddenly said, "thirty seconds is enough for beef short ribs."
When Akira looked up, he saw that Horikita had already picked up the tongs from the center of the table and was intently flipping the newly placed meat slices, her technique surprisingly skillful.
Akira raised an eyebrow. "...Didn't you say you only went once?"
"Once doesn't mean I can't do it," Horikita's movements remained fluid, the meat slices flipping with a perfect arc on the grill.
"Could it be that you practiced to grill meat for your big brother?" Akira almost blurted it out.
Horikita's tongs suddenly paused, then she glared at him irritably. "Eat your meat, and talk less."
This reaction told Akira that he'd guessed correctly.
He watched Horikita's slightly reddened ear tips with interest, wisely choosing not to press further.
Horikita shook her head, her memory involuntarily drifting back to her middle school days.
That time, she'd pestered her big brother until he agreed to take her for yakiniku, and for that, she'd even stayed up late watching countless yakiniku tutorial videos.
Yet, her big brother never let her touch the tongs the entire time, simply placing the grilled meat, slice by slice, into her bowl.
'My brother didn't use it, so it's his gain.'
She quietly looked up, watching Akira devour his food without restraint.
His eating habits certainly weren't elegant—sauce on the corner of his mouth, cheeks puffed out while chewing—yet it was inexplicably comforting to watch.
"Wipe your mouth," Horikita finally couldn't bear it anymore and handed him a tissue.
"Thanks," Akira took the tissue and wiped his mouth, then picked up another freshly grilled piece of meat. "But seriously, the meat you grill is much tastier than mine."
Horikita snorted lightly, but her tongs unconsciously placed a few more fresh pieces of meat on the grill.