Leaning back slightly in his chair, he offered a warm, placating smile and gestured to the wine list.
"By the way, Sensei, since we're celebrating... would you like to order a glass of wine?"
Haruto's innocent offer completely stunned Shizuka Hiratsuka.
She had a notorious, lifelong soft spot for alcohol and cigarettes—vices she had tried and failed to quit more times than she could count.
Her traditional family had attempted to set her up with various respectable marriage prospects in the past.
But the moment those suitors learned about her heavy drinking, her chain-smoking, and her lethal proficiency in Taekwondo, they had invariably made swift, terrified exits.
Shizuka's internal emotional state was a tangled mess.
Deep down, she suspected that her painfully long single status wasn't just a byproduct of her sharp-tongued personality, but a direct consequence of her unladylike habits.
Her thoughts spiraled, but outwardly, she narrowed her eyes, keeping a sharp, wary watch on Haruto across the table.
"Be completely honest with me, brat—you're not trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me, are you?" she asked, attempting to mask her vulnerability behind a half-joking scowl.
Haruto smirked, leaning forward slightly. "Do you really think I'm that low, Sensei?"
"Didn't I teach you anything in class? You can never fully trust anyone—you only see a person's face, never their true heart, remember?"
"..."
Haruto let out an exaggerated, deeply exasperated sigh. "Fine, sure. Let's pretend you're right."
He gestured to the wine waiter hovering nearby. "So, do you want a glass or not?"
"Yes!"
Her answer came without a single second of hesitation.
Gulp, gulp!
With practiced, unhesitating speed, she poured and practically chugged an entire glass—and then another—almost back-to-back.
The jarring visual of a stunning woman in a delicate, youthful summer dress downing alcohol with the enthusiasm of a seasoned construction worker created a wildly stark contrast.
It was a bizarre dissonance, but as the alcohol hit her system, Shizuka visibly relaxed.
This uninhibited, rough-around-the-edges drinking style was the real her. No matter how many expensive dresses she wore or how much makeup she applied, that core reality wouldn't ever change.
She had secretly assumed that showing this unfiltered, unrefined side of herself so early in the lunch would thoroughly scare Haruto off, cementing her status as perpetually unmarriageable.
Instead, to her profound surprise, he didn't flinch, judge, or show a single sign of disgust the entire time.
Noticing her studying him with heavy curiosity, Haruto raised an eyebrow and smiled.
"Why are you staring at me like that, Sensei? Is there something on my face?"
"...No."
Shizuka slowly shook her head, her dark eyes narrowing. "I'm just wondering if you're secretly terrified and just pretending to stay calm."
Haruto chuckled softly, resting his chin in his hand. "That's an awfully imaginative way to look at it."
"Well, no, I'm genuinely not that easily shaken."
"Heh, I don't believe you for a second," Shizuka muttered, still deeply skeptical, swirling the remaining wine in her glass.
She looked away, a rare flash of self-doubt and vulnerability creeping into her tone.
"Look, you should know by now... I'm older than you, I love drinking and smoking, and I've got a notoriously foul temper. Plus, I can practically beat a grown man senseless with my martial arts. Any normal man would run a mile to avoid a woman like me. Are you seriously telling me you're not bothered by any of that?"
Haruto listened quietly, finally piecing the core of her insecurity together.
So... she's wondering what on earth I actually see in an older, stubborn woman like her?
It was true that from a conventional societal standpoint, her habits, age, and aggressive personality made her a nightmare for anyone looking for a safe, traditional relationship.
Her smoking and heavy drinking weren't just social nuisances; they were long-term health risks that ordinary men feared would become a burden.
But Haruto was fundamentally unlike anyone else in her world.
With his supernatural capabilities, he possessed the power to alter, heal, and completely transcend human limits, making physical flaws and lifestyle strains entirely meaningless.
Besides, he wasn't looking for a conventional, boring life in the first place—and Shizuka's fiery, complex spirit was infinitely more intoxicating than any standard, obedient woman ever could be.
With a sly, confident grin, Haruto stood up from his seat across the table and casually moved over, sliding onto the plush booth cushion right next to Shizuka.
"Wh-What do you think you're doing?"
Shizuka instantly tensed, her posture snapping upright as a wave of nervous panic hit her.
Her eyes darted around the semi-private dining booth, unsure of his sudden, forward intentions.
Ignoring her flustered protests, Haruto reached over and picked up an unopened glass bottle of beer sitting on the tray.
He held it loosely in his palm and gently blew across the surface.
In a fraction of a second, a thick, shimmering layer of crystalline frost snapped across the glass, completely coating the bottle in a web of ice.
At first, caught up in her defensive nerves, Shizuka didn't process what had just happened.
But when Haruto handed the chilled bottle directly to her, she instinctively reached out, wrapped her fingers around it, and instantly jolted.
"W-What?! It's freezing cold!"
She stared down at the bottle in absolute disbelief.
It had been sitting at warm room temperature on the service cart just moments before—how on earth had it flash-frozen solid right before her eyes?
Haruto offered a playful, charming smile, lifting one hand.
"Want to know the secret behind how this drink got so cold? Here, hold my hand."
Thinking he was about to pull off some clever street-magic trick or sleight of hand, Shizuka let out a skeptical huff.
"Fine, let's see what kind of parlor trick you're—"
She reached out and gripped his hand.
The very next second...
"Ahh! Good grief, it's freezing!"
An intense, biting wave of sub-zero chill surged directly through her palm, making her gasp and instinctively try to pull away.
"Your hand... H-How on earth is it this painfully cold?!" she stammered, her eyes wide with shock as she stared at their joined hands.
Haruto instantly reined in his elemental output, letting the harsh chill dissipate, though he maintained a firm, comforting grip on her fingers.
"Sensei, you can just think of me as someone who possesses... supernatural abilities," he explained with casual ease.
Shizuka's mind reeled.
Supernatural? Was he out of his mind?
She wanted to laugh it off as a ridiculous joke, but the lingering frost on the beer bottle in her other hand was very, very real.
Before she could process a response, Haruto extended his free hand, holding it palm-up just beneath the edge of the wooden table.
Slowly, wisps of shimmering blue mist coalesced out of thin air.
Before Shizuka's disbelieving eyes, ice began to materialize, rapidly bending and shaping itself into a breathtakingly intricate ice sculpture—a miniature, flawless replica of Shizuka herself, right down to the exact contours of her light-blue summer dress and pinned-up hair.
"!!!"
Shizuka sat paralyzed, completely and utterly speechless.
He wasn't lying. It was real.
*****
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