Welcome! This piece is dedicated to Ieyasu- the honest, righteous young man I grew fond of as the series progressed.
Three things:
1) This is intended to be a cheerful, casual, FICTIONAL narrative as opposed to its somber, melodramatic predecessor. So fun and light-hearted I will attempt! It may not be EPIC, but it should be FUN.
2) Teen rating now, Mature rating later- because I'm treading deeper waters with this piece and I don't want ensuing ligation. It's ironically more difficult to write than my former work.
3) Lady Saigo was a concubine of Tokugawa Ieyasu. Historical portrayal of their relationship is very different from the usual "arranged marriage" approach, and so inspired countless hours of planning and cranking of imagination cogs. She is an OC here and not intended in anyway to be historically accurate to the actual Saign no Tsubone.
My second fanfiction- yay! This is a story I want to read- I hope you do as well
CH 1: I quit
I quit my job.
That's right, in this day and age with fluctuating stock markets, inflated inelastic demands and escalating standards of living in Japan- I QUIT my job.
A sigh against the gray skies. The smell of gingko and willow leaves in the park.
It is not a smart decision, I concede, but I had to. The firm recruited over thirty people and ushered them all on to my floor. Granted, more than three-quarters of their positions will be terminated in a month, but I had to get out of there- it was suffocating!
The aroma of miso wafts down the small cobblestone path I decided to take last minute. It's the sight of bamboo yatai, nestled in a gingko alcove at the end of a winding road that makes it a safe haven. It's a hole in the wall in the middle of nowhere even if I say so myself, but during my university years of searching in Tokyo I can confidently say this place has the best ramen. No one else in this densely populated city seems aware of it though- the place is literally empty all the time, but I prefer it that way.
I smile grimly, rounding up to the tiny food joint. I sincerely hope dinner tonight will assuage the pain of resume-writing and job-hunting tomorrow.
Ieyasu just finished his final lap in the Koshikawa Botantical Garden when the humble food stand caught his eye.
A nonchalant shrug later, he jogs towards it, the squeaking of his trainers against the moist earth. A snack after work out seems fair. He could not say no to ramen, and after a precautionary pull of his bright yellow hoodie over his head, ambles over to the counter.
"Irasshaimase!" The chef calls out the customary greeting.
The younger man waits for a response, and after deciding it was safe when the chef returns immediately to his tasks at hand, finally seats himself. He wasn't sure if the man had taken a glance at him, but all is well.
He orders himself Shoyu ramen. Typical- yes. Understated? No. The balance of Shoyu in the broth had to be just right. Too much and it becomes too salty and undermines taste of the chashu. Too little and it becomes bland and does nothing to compliment the other ingredients. He will find out in a moment.
His order came faster than he expected.
A pre-emptive sip of the broth.
"Hn", he rolls remnants of the soup base off his taste buds.
Better than most, but the collaboration of ingredients is not quite there…
"Ano," he waves to the Chef, a portly man in his forties with a towel tied around his forehead, "do you have any ginger?"
The older man gives him a look.
"Ah, I always have it with ramen," the Tokugawa heir replies, scratching back of his head.
With a grunt, the chef lumbers towards the back, disappearing between blue pieces of noren.
As soon as the man is out of sight, Ieyasu does a quick survey of the coast before vaulting over the counter. He lands like a cat, holds for any response, before plucking out chopsticks to swish away at yellow noodles. It may not be ethical. It may not be courteous, but if he was going to eat, it was better this way.
"Irasshaimase, shoyu ramen onegaishimasu" the young lady mutters, plopping on to her seat before the ramen counter. Her eyes fixated on her lap, with shoulders drawn down.
Ieyasu glances at her fallen expression, quirking an eyebrow.
What the…
"I had a tough day," she supplies, as if reading his mind. Eyes still on the ground.
"Oh?" More out of small talk than intrigue. He measures out shoyu on a bowl.
"I quit my office job," she groans, banking forehead onto folded arms. "Yes, I pushed papers like a machine, but don't get me wrong- it wasn't a bad job. But the problem is that it's over-crowded."
He sips from a spoon. Almost there- needs a little sake and then scallion garnish later to balance it out. "That sounds like bad news."
If Ieyasu was cooking up a storm, she would not know. "Yes, so now I am jobless and I have to look for another soon…I wonder if I can manage to pay rent this month," she grumbles, drowning in her own misery.
Ieyasu manages to pour the final product of his labor over a bowl of ramen when he hears shuffling from the back.
Damn it.
With an adroit flick of the wrist, he hops over the counter, slipping back into his seat just as the elder man exits.
The young lady cranes her head up. "Is my ramen ready?" Her frustration aggravated by hunger.
The chef bows with a brusque apology before resuming his station by the stove. Ieyasu mindlessly slurps his mediocre noodles as the chef meets the other bowl of Shoyu ramen with a puzzled expression.
"WELL?" She frowns, fingers tapping on the wooden counter.
"Ah, sumimasen!" He nods and hands over the steaming bowl with chopsticks.
The young lady takes a deep, uninhibited, LOUD slurp, and Ieyasu turns away to hide his grin when she compliments the chef.
The poor man could only nod and sweatdrop at the undue glory he received. Or maybe he had made it but his memory eluded him. His wife had always said the years were catching up to him.
"Go-chiso sama!" She inclines her head as per custom after meals.
Ieyasu beams inwardly underneath his hoodie. The sudden vibration in his pocket, snapping him out of his reverie.
A frown on her face when she reaches into her pocketbook. The sad realization followed by an apology.
"I am sorry but the last five-hundred yen I had, I gave to a man today in the park on my way here," she bowed, head at the height of her hip.
The young man answers his phone, more out of necessity than interest.
"That is a problem," the chef deadpans, arms crossing into a fold.
Ieyasu mutters a few words before pocketing the small device. He had seen a man in rags on a bench downing a hamburger on his way here.
Her head still down.
"If you will allow it, I will go to my bank right now and get you the money. It will only take-"
Enough. He's heard it all.
"Oji-san, I am finished too," the youth announced with grin. He stood, reaching into his trouser pocket. "Here's what I have- keep the change. It will cover this young lady's share too."
Her jaw dropped. "What? No, no! It's fine. I can-"
The honk of a car from the main road of the garden.
"Shinpai shinaide," he smiles at her, before heading over to his ride.
She didn't even have time to protest before he ran off.
He waves to her before jogging away.
"You've had a tough day. My treat."
Shinpai shinaide: don't worry about it.
Yatai: Japanese food stands
Noren: short curtains, Japanese dividers between doorways.
NOTE: Had fun? I've always wanted to write modern AU, but I don't know how to feel about this. Hopefully, the first chapter is interesting :D