Since they were already in Fukuoka Prefecture, naturally they had to try the local specialty, Motsunabe.
After night quietly fell, the highly dysfunctional group of four, who had no interest in sightseeing but plenty of interest in food, headed to a local restaurant famous for its motsunabe hotpot.
The moment Ritsu pushed open the door, he noticed the place was packed with locals.
How could he tell? Well, they were all speaking with thick Fukuoka accents.
Finding a table tucked away in the corner, Gin and Vodka still kept their black outfits and brimmed hats on, making the servers visibly nervous about approaching their table.
"Gin. Vodka."
He merely called their names, yet under Shiho's astonished gaze, Gin and Vodka actually removed the hats that seemed practically fused to their bodies. Vodka even took off his sunglasses.
'So that's what his eyes look like.'
Gin handed his hat to Vodka for safekeeping before pulling out a pack of cigarettes, clearly preparing to light one. But suddenly, he felt a foot lightly kick his shin beneath the table.
Looking up, he noticed Ritsu sitting across from him with his head lowered over the menu, smiling faintly while motioning with his lips toward a poster on the nearby wall.
…Oh. It wasn't a poster.
It was a no-smoking sign.
Watching this unfold before her eyes, Shiho felt like the worldview she had built over the years was collapsing.
The cold-blooded, ruthless Gin actually obediently followed restaurant rules and refrained from smoking?
Just what kind of person was Augier?
After checking several dishes on the menu, Ritsu handed it over to Shiho. "Take a look and order whatever you want. No need to be polite, today's on me."
Looking down at the dishes he had already selected, she saw the restaurant's signature Hakata motsunabe, fried beef cheek, vinegared beef offal, assorted grilled chicken skewers, and a clay pot rice dish with whitebait and mullet roe.
Most importantly, he had even ordered dessert.
A Fukuoka strawberry tart.
After all, strawberries were one of Fukuoka's famous specialties.
"No thanks."
"Then I'll hand the menu to the server."
Ritsu stood up and additionally ordered two bottles of the locally famous Mita sake.
Judging by Vodka's alcohol tolerance, he could easily finish both bottles by himself, so it wouldn't interfere with the mission later.
Besides, even if Vodka got drunk, it wouldn't really matter… It wasn't like they needed him to think anyway.
As long as the other three stayed sober, nothing would go wrong.
The alcohol was naturally served first.
After skillfully pouring Gin a cup, Vodka began drinking for himself. His hearty way of drinking caused Shiho to question reality once again.
What was with the exaggerated "Aaaah!" after every gulp? Wasn't this just some exhausted middle-aged construction worker after a long shift?
"Please don't touch the pot yet. Here are your dishes, enjoy your meal!"
The motsunabe placed on the table was still bubbling hot. The pale-white beef intestines rolled happily in the rich creamy broth heated by the solid fuel beneath the pot.
It was obvious the owner was a generous man. A thick layer of bright green chives covered the surface, topped with fragrant garlic slices and white sesame seeds.
Ritsu normally didn't eat much organ meat, but he was very interested in Hakata's famous cuisine. Instead of immediately trying the intestines, he first ladled himself half a bowl of broth, habitually tasting the soup base before anything else.
The broth was made with a 1:1 ratio of beef bone stock and vegetable stock, preventing it from becoming overwhelmingly rich. The freshness of the vegetables lightened the soup, balancing out the heaviness of the meat broth.
Especially after adding half a spoonful of the provided white pepper, the flavor transformed completely. The spicy kick made the soup taste even sweeter and more flavorful.
Picking up a piece of chive together with the glossy beef intestine, he noted that Hakata-style motsunabe used extremely fatty intestines, so overcooking them would ruin the texture.
The first sensation upon biting down was the crispness of the chives, followed immediately by the explosion of beef fat in the mouth.
The intestines had been prepared perfectly, with absolutely no unpleasant odor. Their rich yet gentle texture paired wonderfully with the sweetness of the fresh chives.
The dipping sauce apparently contained lemon juice. Its sour and spicy flavor cut through the richness of the beef fat perfectly, leaving a lingering fragrance without feeling greasy.
"Mmph, Aniki, try the fried beef cheek, it's really good! And this vinegared beef offal… hehe, it seriously makes me want another drink."
Knowing Gin wasn't particularly fond of organ meat, Vodka had immediately sampled the beef cheek and enthusiastically recommended it.
'This was definitely something Aniki would like.'
Ritsu wasn't very interested in those two dishes. The vinegared offal was more suited as drinking food for Vodka, while the fried beef cheek had specifically been ordered for Gin and was one of the restaurant's specialties.
His attention instead drifted toward the clay pot rice sitting near Shiho. Taking advantage of his long reach, he easily stole himself a portion.
Ritsu had always loved Japanese-style takikomi rice. Somehow, rice cooked this way always tasted sweeter and the grains softer than ordinary steamed rice.
Looking at the generous topping of whitebait and mullet roe alone was already visually satisfying.
Scooping up a large spoonful and putting it into his mouth, the salty umami of the whitebait combined perfectly with the chewy texture of the mullet roe.
The rice had also been seasoned lightly with soy sauce and shredded seaweed, adding layers of flavor that made it impossible to stop eating one bite after another.
"Why aren't you eating the cake?"
Shiho, who had been seriously focused on eating, glanced at him in surprise. "You ordered that for me?"
Ritsu chuckled and asked with amusement, "Do you honestly think anyone else at this table would want a strawberry tart?"
Vodka, who was happily chewing on a grilled chicken heart skewer, looked like he wanted to say something but stopped himself.
Because yes, there actually was someone at the table who loved strawberries.
Or rather… loved desserts in general.
But with Gin present and Augier present, Vodka could only painfully give up the strawberry tart and let Shiho have it instead.
After finishing a simple dinner, the two workaholics among them realized it had been nearly half a year since they last sat down in a restaurant and properly ate a meal.
Watching Gin immediately light a cigarette the moment they stepped outside, Ritsu also felt the urge to smoke. But after remembering there was still a minor present, he suppressed the craving.
"Gin, it's about time. Finish that cigarette and let's go."
"Mm."
Once Gin satisfied his nicotine addiction, the dysfunctional group of four headed toward the shrine.
Upon arriving at the shrine entrance, Kimie, who was welcoming guests, pulled out a registry book and smiled.
"Anyone with a number tag, please sign in here."
After Shiho signed her real name, Ritsu honestly wrote "Augier" in the slot for Number Fifty.
His codename didn't really sound different from a normal name anyway. After all, it was a brand of brandy, unlike codenames such as Gin or Vodka.
Before Ritsu could hand the pen to Gin, he heard him coldly ask, "Do we have to write something?"
"Yes. Everyone with a number tag has to register."
Kimie curiously glanced at the mature long-haired man before her. He didn't seem like the type interested in eternal youth.
Especially the black-clothed man beside him. Can he even see properly at night wearing sunglasses like that?
Ritsu deliberately lingered instead of walking inside with Shiho. His gaze quickly swept across the two names written beside Shiho's, finally revealing Gin and Vodka's real names to him.
'Kurosawa Jin… So Gin's name really did contain the character for "black." His obsession with black ran deep.'
But… Uozuka Jiro?
Pfft!
Ritsu desperately maintained his poker face to keep from laughing out loud.
What kind of name was that?
Anyone hearing it would assume he was some clueless fisherman from a tiny remote fishing village.
For some reason, the name "Uozuka Jiro" immediately conjured up the image of a goofy-looking fool.
Quietly, he made the sign of the cross in his heart.
To everyone actually named "Uozuka Jiro," he sincerely apologized. Amen.
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PS at 324