After class with no particular obligations, Mitsuha finds herself wandering around the Iwatodai strip mall with Junpei, looking for something to do. Or, more likely, to eat.
As if on cue, Junpei pipes up. "Hey, let's get something to eat. Ramen or a meal. . .maybe a beef bowl. . .oh wait, what about takoyaki. . . ?" he wonders aloud, before considering the fact he has a companion. "Oh! Uh, what do you want to eat?"
Rich broth and hot noodles immediately comes to mind for Mitsuha. "Ramen!"
Junpei looks enthused. "Ooh, you're up for it, too? Okay, let's go!" Before they get going, however, Junpei is distracted by a middle-aged man standing off to the side. Or rather, staggering. And yelling. ". . .Whoa, what the hell? That dude's completely wasted. . .it's broad daylight, man. . ." he grumbles in disgust.
"Let's avoid him," Mitsuha says.
Junpei grimaces. "Yeah. I don't wanna have to deal with somebody like that, either. I mean, if he gets hit by a car or something, it's his own damn fault."
Unfortunately, the drunk notices the two of them looking at him and stumbles over.
"Wha'chu lookin' at. . . ?" he slurs, barely able to form his words.
"Whaddya want?" Junpei asks dismissively and combatively. "Get outta here."
"Junpei, let's just go," Mitsuha urges him.
". . .Yeah, you're right."
As they sit across from each other at Hagakure Ramen (having ordered two specials, as has become tradition between them), Junpei's once bright mood has fouled ever since encountering the drunk man.
Apparently aware of his own attitude, Junpei sighs. "Sorry. I. . .don't like seeing drunks like that. Well, I doubt that anyone actually likes seeing people like that," he laughs dejectedly. "You. . .you only have your dad, right?"
"Yeah. My mom passed away when I was young."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Knowing you, you must've had good parents."
"From what little I can remember from back then, things were great. But ever since she died, things got a lot worse," Mitsuha remembers. "My dad. . .we're not exactly on speaking terms anymore."
"My dad. . .he's not great, either. He was always drinking. He'd just sit there and drink, all by himself. And every time he did, he'd get violent over the stupidest stuff."
"It must've been hard," Mitsuha sympathizes. "My father never got physical. He just kind of left me and my little sister behind. I'm just a convenient political tool when he needs to do some grandstanding."
"I don't know what's worse—you know what? They're both equally awful. Well for me, at least now, it doesn't hurt like when I was a kid. He's lost what strength he had, and I didn't even notice it. . ." Junpei trails off. "Anyways. . .sorry for bringing that up. I must really be boring you."
"Not at all. I'm glad you opened up to me, Junpei," Mitsuha says gently. "I. . .I think I can at least partially understand what you've had to go through."
"Thanks. Well, c'mon! Let's talk about something fun!" he laughs, his dreary disposition quickly vanishing. "Crap! Gotta finish these noodles before they get soggy! Let's shut up and eat!"
They had been so engrossed in their talk that neither of them had noticed the two large bowls of noodles that had appeared in front of them.
Without a word, Mitsuha also hurriedly tucks in to her still warm meal.