My Love Simulation with Them

To eat?

Or not to eat?

Ever since Minami gained LV4 Cooking Skill and could see food ratings,

He often faced this dilemma.

And now—

Sitting before him was yet another test.

[1.1/10 Rating]

A plate of Omurice soaked in a beautiful girl's sweat.

Never mind the low score.

Just the phrase "cute girl's sweat" was enough to completely kill his appetite.

Because—

Sweat is sweat.

Whether it comes from a cute girl or a normal person—

It's still sweat.

Total nonsense.

Minami wasn't into that kind of thing.

1.1/10 wasn't the worst score he had seen.

After all, a home-cooked meal by a regular person usually ranged from 1.0 to 2.0.

At most—

The food might be too salty or have mixed flavors.

But it wouldn't kill him.

However—

Anything below 1.0...?

That was a serious red flag.

"EVEN A DOG WOULDN'T EAT THIS."

Minami stared silently at the omurice before him.

Meanwhile—

Chisato tilted her head, puzzled.

"What's wrong? Eat up. Why aren't you eating?"

She rested her face on her hands and continued—

"Minami-kun, I'm pretty sure you haven't eaten anything since this morning, right? Aren't you hungry by now?"

"..."

Minami.

He glanced at Chisato.

Then back at the plate of food.

And then—

With complete naturalness—

He pushed the plate aside.

"Can I use your kitchen?"

"Eh—?"

Chisato made a noise of dissatisfaction before answering—

"Normally, other people wouldn't be allowed in, but since it's Minami-kun… uh… hmm..."

She hesitated for a while.

Then, she finally nodded and placed a finger to her lips—

"I'll let you in, but Minami-kun, you have to promise me not to tell anyone, okay? After all, letting non-staff into the kitchen is..."

She mimed an "I'll get scolded" gesture.

Then—

She lifted the counter panel to let Minami step inside.

At the same time—

She asked, curious—

"But… speaking of which, Minami-kun, why do you suddenly want to go into Riko-Riko's kitchen?"

"No particular reason. I was just curious. And, well, I am a little hungry. I wanted to make something to eat… Is that okay?"

Minami was at least kind enough to leave Chisato some dignity.

His wording was polite.

"Minami-kun is going to cook?"

Chisato's bright eyes blinked in confusion.

"But didn't I already make you a plate of omurice?"

Then—

She proudly puffed out her chest—

"Not to brag, but while my cooking skills might not be on Mika-sensei's level, that's only by a small margin."

She tilted her head, her tone full of confidence.

"Even in Riko-Riko, my cooking skills are definitely top-tier."

"..."

Minami.

He recalled the 1.1 rating.

And Chisato's LV1 Cooking Skill.

And he seriously couldn't comprehend where this girl's confidence came from.

"If even one percent of this confidence was given to Gotou Hitori, she wouldn't be socially anxious anymore."

"And 1.1-rated cooking is "top-tier"?"

"This "tier" seems a little too low.""

"Wait—"

"Does no one in Riko-Riko actually know how to cook?"

At this moment, Minami finally understood—

Why Riko-Riko was always so empty, even on weekends.

"Aside from Mika, who's actually trying, the other four are all the culprits!"

No—

Maybe Inoue Takina was an exception.

After all—

In the simulation, she managed the café's accounts perfectly with zero errors.

But this wasn't the time for these thoughts.

Minami shook his head.

And cleared his mind.

With practiced ease, he stepped into the kitchen.

The layout and tools were exactly as he remembered from the simulation.

Minami only needed one glance to memorize everything.

Meanwhile—

Chisato watched him closely.

She noticed how familiar he seemed with everything inside Riko-Riko.

She tilted her head, deep in thought.

"See? My intuition wasn't wrong."

"Maybe I really have met Minami-kun before..."

As she pondered—

Minami was already speaking.

"Can I use these ingredients?"

"Ah… sure."

Chisato agreed immediately.

"Hm? That easy?"

Minami glanced at her.

He had expected a whole process to go through.

After all—

He was technically an outsider using the café's ingredients.

"Ahem. Well, it's kind of embarrassing, but most customers only come here for coffee."

When the topic came up—

Chisato looked a little awkward.

"Since barely anyone orders food, the ingredients we buy end up piling up. If they don't sell, we just use them ourselves before they expire."

"I see."

Hearing this—

Minami was speechless.

"So basically—"

"If the food doesn't sell, it just sits in the fridge, waiting to expire, and then they have to eat it themselves..."

"No wonder Chisato let me into the kitchen so easily."

"Geez… Minami-kun, I let you into the kitchen, you know?"

Chisato pouted.

She could sense Minami's doubtful expression.

"I'm a café waitress! You're really underestimating my cooking skills!"

She muttered to herself—

"Besides, are you really that confident your cooking will taste better than my omurice?"

"I mean, I even followed online videos for over a month!"

Minami ignored her.

He casually selected the ingredients he needed from the fridge.

Then—

He began preparing.

"Seriously, my omurice is definitely better, Minami-kun! You should at least try it!"

Even as she kept talking,

Chisato's eyes were glued to Minami's hands.

And as she watched...

She realized—

She couldn't take her eyes off him.

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Akasaka Kazuya considered himself a failure of a salaryman.

Not just at work.

But in life.

Getting bossed around by his superiors.

Overtime, every day.

Colleagues gossiping behind his back.

All of it—

Was just a part of his daily life.

At home—

His wife always complained about him working late.

Said he never had time for their son.

He felt helpless.

He felt guilty.

And above all—

He felt exhausted by this mess of a life that seemed to have no end in sight.

"Sorry, terribly sorry! Then let's consider our deal settled."

Plastering on a smile, Akasaka stepped out of the client's general store.

His body ached—even on his day off, he was still stuck working overtime.

He stood motionless on the bustling Tokyo street.

He watched the cheerful students walking past.

He thought back—

To when he was their age.

When he, too, always had a smile on his face.

Back then, he thought—

"I have endless possibilities."

And yet now—

He dragged his tired feet through the streets of Tokyo, utterly lost.

"How did my life end up like this?"

Akasaka wandered aimlessly.

If he went home—he'd just argue with his wife again.

But walking around—

He had nowhere to go.

Tokyo was huge.

Yet, somehow—

So suffocatingly small.

And so, he walked.

Without purpose.

Without direction.

Until—

His stomach growled, and his legs felt weak.

"At least… I can still feel hunger."

Akasaka let out a self-deprecating chuckle.

Over the years—

He had started to feel like a machine.

Completely numb.

But in Tokyo—

There were countless people just like him.

He came to a halt.

His eyes scanned the area.

He just needed somewhere to eat.

Anywhere would do.

And then—

An irresistible aroma wafted through the air—

Stopping him in his tracks.

"What is that…?"

He turned his head—

And not far away, he spotted a small yet elegantly decorated café.

It wasn't a place he recognized.

But—

That scent.

That damn scent wouldn't let him go.

And so—

After a moment of hesitation—

He stepped forward and pushed open the door.

"Welcome, sir! Right this way!"

A cheerful voice rang out.

Akasaka looked up—

And was momentarily stunned.

The one greeting him wasn't the kind of staff he expected at a café.

It was a radiant, blonde-haired girl.

Full of energy.

He was momentarily caught off guard.

But since he was already inside—

He didn't back away.

Instead, he bowed his head slightly.

"Sorry for the intrusion."

And then—

He followed the golden-haired girl to his seat.

"Here's a warm towel for you."

"Thank you."

Akasaka Kazuya—

A failure in both work and life.

Yet, he still carried himself with dignity.

Even in front of this young waitress, he remained polite and well-mannered.

But—

While he was simply being courteous—

Chisato's mindset was completely different.

Because—

Akasaka wasn't one of their usual customers.

If she could keep him coming back—

Maybe Riko-Riko wouldn't feel so empty all the time.

She had to seize this chance!

And so—

She beamed with 110% enthusiasm.

"Sir, what would you like to eat today?"

"Hmm..."

Akasaka glanced up at the wooden menu board hanging above the counter.

He didn't see anything he particularly wanted.

So, he decided to ask directly—

"What's currently being made in the kitchen? Just give me the same dish. And for the sides… let the chef decide."

A reasonable order.

At any restaurant, this would be a perfectly normal request.

But—

As soon as he said it—

The blonde girl in front of him—

Her expression stiffened.

Because—

She never expected this.

This rare, potential regular—

Had specifically ordered the food that Minami Shouji was cooking in the kitchen.

But—

That was a meal Minami Shouji had made for himself.

Strictly speaking, it wasn't even on Riko-Riko's menu.

A "special dish" that wasn't for sale.

So…

What now?

Just as Chisato was scrambling for an answer—

"No problem, sir. Your order will be ready shortly."

Minami spoke smoothly.

Then—

He added, calmly:

"However, I must inform you—our pricing is a bit on the higher side."

"A standard meal set here costs approximately 6,888 yen."

"SIX THOUSAND EIGHT HUNDRED EIGHTY-EIGHT?!"

"MINAMI, YOU—MMMMPH!"

Before Chisato could finish yelling—

Minami swiftly covered her mouth.

"Nearly 7,000 yen… for a single meal set?"

Akasaka Kazuya hesitated.

That price was…

Insane.

For that much money—

He could go to an izakaya, eat as much as he wanted, and still have change left over.

And yet—

Just as he was about to refuse…

That scent.

That damn scent.

It drifted in from the kitchen—

Seeping into his nose.

Creeping into his brain.

His lips parted.

Ready to say "No, thanks."

But then—

Almost like a spell—

"…Alright. I'll take it."

"Please, chef. I leave it in your hands."

And the moment the words left his mouth—

Akasaka Kazuya regretted it.

"Damn it… why did I just agree to that?"

"MMMPH?!"

Chisato froze.

Her eyes widened.

"He actually… BOUGHT it?!"

She stood there—completely dumbfounded.

6,888 yen.

Just like that—

A single sale.

Like a zombie, she let Minami drag her away.

Like a zombie, she let Minami shove a tray into her hands.

Like a zombie, she placed the food on the table.

She was so stunned—

She even forgot to say "Please enjoy."

Akasaka Kazuya, however—

Didn't notice.

He had just dropped nearly 7,000 yen.

He needed to see what he had just paid for.

His stomach rumbled.

So—

He lowered his gaze.

And examined the meal.

Crystal-clear shrimp rolls—

Topped with delicate shreds of seaweed.

Soy-glazed tofu—

Shimmering with a perfect golden-brown hue.

But above all—

The dish that truly caught his eye…

The ochazuke.

(Téa-soaked rice bowl.)

Topped with dried bonito flakes and fresh scallions.

The broth creamy and rich.

Nestled beneath—

A delicate cut of Arctic surf clam.

Small.

Refined.

And—

Strangely beautiful.

This was…

A coffee shop meal?

Akasaka's heartache over his lost 7,000 yen began to fade.

And—

The scent…

Awoke something primal inside of him.

He picked up the bowl.

Scooped up a spoonful of broth.

And took a sip.

Then—

He froze.

Akasaka Kazuya froze in place.

A flavor—

Indescribable.

The instant the umami-rich broth touched his tongue—

Akasaka felt warmth bloom inside his chest.

A warmth he hadn't felt in years.

This wasn't just delicious.

This was—

Healing.

A warmth that soothed.

A richness that lingered.

It wasn't just his tired body that felt lighter—

It was his soul.

His boss's constant pressure.

His wife's anger and resentment.

The life he had once thought was beyond saving.

All of it—

Seemed insignificant.

For the first time in years—

Akasaka Kazuya felt like fighting again.

For his job.

For his family.

For himself.

A tiny, flickering flame—

Lit inside his once exhausted heart.

His eyes closed.

A single tear escaped down his cheek.

And across the table—

Chisato stared at him.

Mouth slightly open.

A little—

Confused.

"Uh…"

"It's just… food, you know?"

"Why the hell is he crying?!"