DISCLAIMER:
Everything elaborated here about Japanese food and culture is based on personal research. Some details may differ from authentic traditions or practices. If you notice any inaccuracies, please feel free to share corrections in the comments—I'm open to learning and will update accordingly. Thank you!
The library was quiet, the kind of calm that only comes late at night when everything else has calm down. Our table was a mess of open books and scattered notes, the soft hum of my laptop filling the silence. We only had a few minutes left before closing.
"Okay, let's just settle on a Kaiseki Ryori ten-course meal," Ice said, his fingers flying across his keyboard.
Kaiseki Ryori—I remembered reading about it. A traditional Japanese multi-course dining experience that wasn't just food, but edible poetry. It showcased seasonal ingredients and turned plating into an art form. Everything was served with elegance and harmony, like a story told in ten delicate chapters: appetizers, clear soup, sashimi, grilled and simmered dishes, a steamed course, rice, pickles, and dessert. Even the drink—usually plum liquor—was chosen with intention. It wasn't just for the stomach. It was for the soul.
"Okay!" Lia and Rika chirped in sync, barely glancing at the books they were supposed to be reading.
Meanwhile, I was tucked off to the side, typing quietly, deep in my own little project. I was already building a layout, listing dishes, and checking ingredients. I wasn't spacing out—just… focused. Yeah.
"Start suggesting items for each course," Ice said without looking up.
That got the other two moving. They flipped through pages like they were suddenly on a timer.
His voice had changed—sharper now—but I don't think he noticed. "The drink is usually liquor," he muttered, scrolling through a page on Japanese alcohol. "I'll get approval for this project. Any ideas?"
Total silence.
I kept typing. Honestly, I'd zoned out a bit.
He sighed. "Let's go with plum liquor. Next—appetizers." Then he looked up and stared. That Ice kind of stare that made you feel like you just failed a life test.
I felt bad for the other two, really. Okay, maybe only a little.
Lia and Rika panicked. Lia blurted something about pickled greens and orange vegetables—"for color and presentation," she added nervously. Rika pointed at a photo of marinated seaweed salad like she was holding up a winning lottery ticket.
"Alright, we'll use both," Ice said, deadpan.
They high-fived like they'd just won the Bake-Off.
Ice sighed again. His exhaustion was written all over his face. "Soup next. How about a clear dashi broth with seasonal vegetables—spinach, leeks, enoki mushrooms?"
"Sounds good!" Rika said.
Lia gave him a thumbs-up without even looking.
I could practically hear Ice's internal screaming, irritated.
Then he turned to me.
Ops
I froze.
Our eyes met, and I gave him a tiny smile—guilty, like I'd been caught sneaking snacks before dinner.
Without a word, he held out his hand. I slowly turned to look at it.
…Oh. Right. My laptop.
I handed it over with a quiet prayer.
He scrolled through my notes. The recipe list was clean, organized. Everything was labeled and color-coded. I'd even stuck a little note on the side that read:
"Best food tastes like home."
That wasn't meant for him to see—it was just something I'd zoned out and worked on a second ago. Heat rushed to my face. I wanted to snatch it back, but I didn't move.
There was no saving it now. Not from this Iceberg.
After a moment, I broke the silence. "I was actually thinking of Ichiju Sansai. It's simpler than Kaiseki, but… it feels more homey."
My voice was weak—like a kid caught in the act but still trying to explain.
"Kaiseki's better though," Lia said quickly.
This was exactly why I kept it to myself. Their reasoning made sense—and honestly, I might've agreed with them too.
"Yeah! We've gotta go all out," Rika added with a grin.
I let out a sheepish laugh. "You're right. It was just a thought. I tried Kaiseki during a trip once—it was amazing."
But Ice didn't say anything. He kept reading.
His eyes didn't look bored, though.
More... thoughtful.
Rika pointed at another photo. "I went to Japan too! This one restaurant had the best food ever."
"I've never been," Lia sighed. "Now I'm jealous… I want to try everything!"
I chuckled quietly, trying not to shrink into my seat.
And then—
"Let's do this one," Ice said suddenly, pushing my laptop into the center of the table.
"Eh?" I blinked, confused and surprised.
"Isn't it boring? Just rice and vegetables?" Rika asked, leaning closer.
"I agree…" I reached out instinctively to pull the laptop back—but Ice caught my wrist gently.
His eyes narrowed—not mean, but serious.
"It's what locals eat," he said calmly. "Ichiju Sansai is a balanced everyday meal—served in homes, cafeterias. Since our theme is food around the world, wouldn't it be more authentic to explore everyday experiences, not just the fancy ones?"
Wait… he was defending my idea?
Even I, was surprised.
"It's a lot simpler than the ten-course meal," Lia admitted. "But I've never even heard of some of these ingredients."
"We'll have to check suppliers either way," Ice said. "Kaiseki's more popular, but this one feels more meaningful."
"I'll get them!" I blurted—then caught myself. "I mean… it just so happens I'll be in Japan this Friday. I can bring the ingredients."
"Perfect. The more authentic, the better."
There was a new glint in his eyes now—a rare, intrigued kind of look.
The kind that meant: this is what we're doing.
Lia and Rika exchanged a glance. That spark in his expression made it pretty clear I'd accidentally won him over.
I suddenly felt very responsible.
Everything was finalized when the librarian came over to tell us they were closing. It was actually really helpful that they'd extended the hours for us. The power of Mr. President Icy!
The two girls offered to return the books. There were so many—hardbound, ancient, ridiculously heavy. And Ice, who looked about three seconds from passing out, didn't even try to stop them.
No gentlemanly resistance, no token "I'll help"—nothing.
Wow. What a prince.
I shook my head in disbelief as we spread out across the room, putting the books back where they came from—exactly the same spot, so Miss Librarian wouldn't hate us and might actually let us stay late again if we needed to.
When I came back, Ice was still at the table, using his arms as a pillow, his posture slumped with fatigue. The other two hadn't returned yet. I sat down next to him, quietly closed my laptop, and started packing my things.
Maybe he noticed my presence, because Ice slowly sat up.
I turned toward him to check—
And to my surprise, he wasn't looking at me. He was sitting up, but his eyes were still shut, face soft and sleepy like he'd just jolted awake. He looked… human. Young. Not scary or cold. Just tired. And somehow—stupidly, unfairly—adorable.
He looked... innocently cute. Like a kid who'd just been woken from a nap.
If Lia and Rika were here, they'd be dead on the floor. Not metaphorically. I mean full-on spiritual departure, hearts exploded, end credits rolling.
The next thing I knew, my hand was on his cheek.
Pinching it.
His cheek.
Why. Why. Why?!
It was soft. Warm. Very real.
Like some kind of mom doing a cuteness aggression attack on her kid.
My eyes flew wide.
What was I doing?! Why did I even—?!
I scrambled to pull my hand away and silently wished to be swallowed by the floor—library abyss, hell portal, I didn't care. Just anything to erase the embarrassment.
But then another realization hit me even harder than my own actions.
This was Ice.
He didn't swat my hand away. No death glare. No sarcastic comment.
He just stayed there, letting out a soft "Hmm" of protest. Barely.like a cat shifting in its sleep.
My heart paused.
Who pressed pause on time?
Panicking, I finally pulled my hand away.
And then—something came with it.
Ice.
His head tilted and dropped toward the direction of my hand—and landed on my shoulder.
Like a sleepy child, he stayed there. Completely defenseless. Soft. Warm. Breathing steady.
And me? I froze. I couldn't move.
I was losing my mind.
I didn't even breathe. My body went rigid. My soul detached. I could feel the heat rushing to my face like a volcanic eruption.
Nope. No no no.
If the other two walked in right now, they'd definitely think I was their romantic rival or something.
No. Please. I want nothing to do with this Iceberg!
And then—
The library lights flickered.
Closing time.
I sat there, stunned, staring into the dimming space like I'd just stepped into the final scene of some tragic romance anime.
What did I just get myself into?