Soldier 11

Late at night, Sixth Street had settled into the kind of quiet that only existed after most people had gone home. The neon signs still glowed above the storefronts, casting soft colors across the pavement, while the distant hum of generators and traffic blended into a gentle background noise. Waterfall Soup remained one of the few places still open, its warm lights spilling out onto the street and filling the air with the scent of broth and spices.

Near the entrance to a narrow alley a short distance away, Harin stood waiting.

Or at least, she would insist she wasn't waiting.

Her posture was as perfect as ever—back straight, shoulders squared, hands neatly folded behind her back. To a passerby, she looked like a soldier simply observing her surroundings. But every few moments her gaze drifted down the street, lingering for just a second longer than necessary before returning forward. Each time it wasn't you, a tiny amount of tension remained in her shoulders.

Then, finally, she spotted you.

The change was immediate.

Her eyes widened slightly behind the visor before she quickly regained her composure. Still, the relief was impossible to miss.

Harin: "Sorry, I'm a bit late."

She pauses for a moment, visibly reconsidering her own statement.

The silence stretches just long enough to become awkward.

Harin: "Sorry, I'm very late."

Her gaze drops toward the pavement.

For someone who could charge into a battlefield without hesitation, admitting she'd kept someone waiting somehow seems more difficult.

She shifts her weight slightly before looking back up.

Harin: "I won't make excuses."

The words come out firmly, almost automatically.

Like something she's repeated countless times before.

Harin: "And I can't tell you any related information."

Despite the military response, there's a faint note of guilt hiding underneath it.

After a brief hesitation, she exhales quietly.

Harin: "But... thank you for still waiting for me."

The sincerity in her voice catches even her off guard.

She immediately looks away afterward, ears beginning to redden beneath her hair.

For a few moments the two of you stand together beneath the streetlights while the sounds of Sixth Street drift around you.

Eventually Harin gestures toward the glowing noodle shop in the distance.

Harin: "This noodle shop is one of the main reasons I come to Sixth Street..."

Her eyes follow the familiar sign hanging outside Waterfall Soup.

The sight seems to relax her slightly.

Then her gaze shifts back toward you.

Harin: "You're another reason, of course."

The statement leaves her mouth with complete honesty.

It takes approximately one second for her brain to catch up.

The realization visibly hits.

Her entire face begins turning red.

You stare at her for a moment before telling her you're surprised she admitted that so easily.

Harin immediately stiffens.

For a terrifying second it looks like she's trying to calculate how to retreat from her own statement.

Harin: "I don't need to lie to you."

The answer comes quickly.

Almost defensively.

Then she realizes that somehow sounded even more direct.

The blush only worsens.

She lowers her head slightly.

Harin: "...I thought you knew."

The confession is quiet enough that it almost gets lost beneath the distant sounds of the city.

She clears her throat and attempts to regain control of the conversation.

Harin: "The presence of a familiar individual in a bustling neighborhood always gives me a different feeling."

The explanation sounds carefully constructed, as though she spent considerable time thinking about it beforehand.

Unfortunately, it somehow ends up sounding even more personal than her original statement.

Harin visibly regrets speaking.

You decide to spare her and ask about the noodle shop instead.

The relief that crosses her face is immediate.

Harin: "General Chop sometimes makes me food outside of work hours."

She begins walking toward Waterfall Soup, and after a moment you fall into step beside her.

Despite her usual brisk military pace, she moves surprisingly slowly tonight. Every time she starts drifting ahead, she unconsciously slows down again until the two of you are walking side-by-side.

Harin: "Being in the military means my free time is often not in my hands."

The warm lights of Sixth Street pass overhead as the two of you make your way down the road.

The atmosphere feels strangely peaceful.

Harin: "Late one night, I was coming back from a mission and was walking through Sixth Street wounded..."

She speaks casually, as if discussing the weather rather than an injury.

Harin: "General Chop opened up the store despite just closing."

For the first time since you arrived, a small smile appears on her face.

A genuine one.

Harin: "All so he could give me a bowl of noodles."

The memory clearly means a lot to her.

She glances toward Waterfall Soup again.

Harin: "I can still remember the spiciness of those noodles like it was yesterday."

The smile grows just slightly.

Harin: "I've come by regularly since then."

You tell her that sometimes you think about taking a stroll over to her place too.

Harin nearly walks directly into a streetlight.

She catches herself at the last second.

The recovery is smooth.

The bright red face is not.

For a moment she looks completely lost.

Then military instinct takes over.

Harin: "...I know some officers sneak out in jeeps with their loved ones for joyrides around the compound."

The explanation arrives far too quickly.

Like she's desperately reaching for the first topic that isn't her own embarrassment.

Harin: "Such loose discipline can only weaken the resolve and combat readiness of a military force."

She folds her arms.

The lecture continues with admirable determination.

Unfortunately, the blush completely undermines any authority she might have had.

Harin: "The yellow ribbon tied to the oak tree will be long faded before their loved ones return from the Hollow."

Her gaze drifts away for a moment.

Then softens.

Harin: "I'd never take you onto the compound with me unless we were on a mission together."

The statement is firm.

The tiny hint of disappointment afterward is not.

Harin: "I hope you understand."

After a brief silence she clears her throat again.

This is becoming a pattern.

Harin: "Oh right."

She points toward the noodle shop, now only a short distance away.

Harin: "I asked General Chop to hold two bowls' worth of noodle ingredients for tonight."

The smell of broth and spices is already becoming stronger.

Harin's expression brightens slightly.

Harin: "...But most of the ingredients were for two bowls of super spicy noodles."

She glances sideways at you.

There's a faint trace of concern in her eyes.

Harin: "Is that gonna be too spicy for you?"

You tell her you'll do your best.

The response earns an immediate reaction.

Her eyes light up.

Not dramatically.

Just enough.

Harin: "Great."

The answer comes almost instantly.

Like she'd secretly been hoping for exactly that response.

Harin: "Based on prior experience, you'll have a cold drink first, right?"

The familiar deadpan delivery returns.

For a moment she actually seems comfortable.

Then she realizes she's been talking quite a bit.

Immediately, the self-consciousness returns.

Harin: "Am I rambling too much?"

She looks away.

Her voice becomes quieter.

Harin: "We're just here for noodles after all."

The excuse doesn't sound convincing even to her.

She hesitates for a moment before giving a small nod toward the shop.

Harin: "Let's get going."

The rest of the walk passes pleasantly. Harin occasionally points out random details around Sixth Street—the recently repaired streetlights, the quiet storefronts, Howl sleeping near the newsstand. None of it seems particularly important. The conversation simply gives her a reason to keep talking to you a little longer.

Eventually the two of you arrive at Waterfall Soup.

The moment General Chop notices you approaching, a grin spreads across his face.

General Chop: "We're all sold out of noodles today! Not a single noodle left!"

He dramatically folds his arms.

Then points directly at Harin.

General Chop: "Unless you're with that young girl over there! Then I'm sure I can manage something!"

You immediately point out that you're a regular too.

General Chop bursts out laughing so loudly that several nearby pedestrians glance over.

General Chop: "Hahaha!"

He wipes a tear from his eye.

General Chop: "You're even better at sulking than your sibling!"

Beside you, Harin lowers her head slightly.

The attention is rapidly becoming unbearable.

General Chop, naturally, continues.

General Chop: "I don't give her special treatment because she's a regular."

He points a finger dramatically toward the two of you.

General Chop: "I treat all regulars equally!"

The old chef strokes his chin thoughtfully.

General Chop: "The reason?"

He shrugs.

General Chop: "You can pick whichever excuse you like."

General Chop: "Maybe sales of super spicy bowls have been poor."

Another shrug.

General Chop: "Maybe she reminds me of my daughter."

Harin looks like she'd very much like to disappear.

General Chop: "Now take a seat! I'll have everything ready in a second!"

The moment the teasing ends, Harin quickly slips into one of the nearby seats.

When you sit beside her, some of the tension finally drains from her shoulders.

The warm glow of the noodle stand surrounds the two of you as steam rises from the bowls placed in front of you.

General Chop busies himself behind the counter.

The sounds of Sixth Street continue somewhere beyond the lights.

For a while neither of you says anything.

The silence isn't awkward.

It's comfortable.

Harin watches the steam rising from her noodles before glancing toward you.

Her expression softens.

Almost unconsciously.

Harin: "These kinds of late nights are just perfect for a bowl of noodles..."

She gently lifts her chopsticks.

The faint smile on her face grows slightly.

Harin: "...And surgical taskforce assault."

The completely serious addition somehow makes the moment even better.

After a brief pause, she lowers her gaze to her bowl.

Though the small smile remains.

And for once, she doesn't seem to be in any hurry to hide it.

Harin: “…I’m feeling a little drowsy… is this the noodles…?”