No You Cannot Have My Ruru Ramen!

I quickly put on the oversized hoodie, it covering three-quarters of my body frame, before rummaging further in the wardrobe in an effort to find some pants.

Luckily, there was an old set of high school shorts that I used to wear.

Still on my frame they looked big, so I grabbed the drawstrings on either side and pulled them tight.

‘Much better.’

In the mirror reflected a cute blue-haired girl with golden eyes, in an adorably cute hoodie and long black sports shorts.

‘I look like one of those sporty girls that are seen in a sports manga.’

I leaned closer to the mirror and squinted at myself.

The hoodie hid most of my frame, which was ideal, but my hair was still the colour of a main character. Blue was not a subtle colour.

Blue was the kind of colour that screamed look at me.

At best, I could probably pass it off as being a foreigner with questionable fashion choices.

My eye colour did not help either, but for now there was nothing I could do about that.

I pulled the hoodie strings tighter around my face until I looked like a suspicious blueberry.

“Perfect,” I said dryly. “Now time to think of a name. I can’t go by Keiko anymore. That would be way too obvious.”

To at least carry remnants of my actual name, Keiko Miyamura, I decided to keep the K from Keiko and the A from Miyamura, twisting them together into something new.

Kura.

As for the surname, my brain immediately went off the rails.

Pendragon? No. Way too fantasy.

Burnstar? Also no. I used lightning, not fire, and that sounded like a rejected superhero alias.

Stormveil? Absolutely not. That would get me detained within five minutes.

In the end, I stuck with something subtle. Something basic. Something that wouldn’t set off alarms.

“Kura Miyamoto,” I whispered.

It felt… fine. Normal. Boring, even.

Good.

My stomach growled loudly, interrupting the moment.

“…Right,” I sighed. “Identity crisis later. Food now.”

There was only one place I trusted enough for this situation, the ramen shop.

Not just any ramen shop, the kind that refused delivery, refused reservations, and refused to acknowledge your existence unless you physically showed up.

The kind of place that survived purely on spite.

Ruru Ramen, the best ramen spot in the entire of Japan.

If I was going to risk being seen in public, it might as well be for something worth it.

I pulled the hoodie up, adjusted my cap, slipped on a pair of small collectible Nike shoes that somehow managed to fit , and left the flat, locking the door behind me. 

By the time I reached the shop, the store staff where cleaning up.

The shop opened at eight in the morning and closed at 1pm, meaning it was only open for a short amount of time. 

I entered the establishment and queued quietly, keeping my head down, doing my best impression of a normal person who definitely hadn’t been electrocuting bathroom fixtures earlier that morning.

When I finally stepped closer to the counter, the smell hit me immediately—rich broth, soy, garlic, and something that made my stomach tighten with anticipation.

I ordered without hesitation.

“The Ruru Special Combo Please!”

The cashier gave me an approving look.

This spot Ruru Ramen was a small nooked shop in the corner of a relatively normal road.

To put it simply it was like a secret spot, that only true gourmet experts of New Tokyo knew about it.

It just so happened that one of those experts was me. How did I know about it, now that's a story for a different time.

“You’re lucky,” she said. “This is the last one of the day.”

I smiled behind my mask and took my seat.

The bowl looked like perfection. Thick noodles. Deep, savoury broth. Melt-in-your-mouth chashu. 

'Totally worth it.'

I opened the box and paused, chopsticks hovering just above the surface of the broth. 

The steam rose lazily from the bowl, curling up into my mask, carrying with it the kind of smell that could convince a person all their life choices were forgivable.

The restaurant was quiet in that uniquely Japanese way, a soft clinks of ceramic, low murmurs, the faint hum of the kitchen behind the counter.

Just as I was about to dig into the bowl someone stopped beside my table.

“Hey—uh—excuse me.”

I looked up.

A young black-haired man was standing there, probably early 20s.

His hair was neatly styled but clearly it hadn’t seen a comb since morning, a few stubborn strands falling out of place no matter how hard they’d been forced back.

He wore a fitted suit that screamed corporate suffering, his tie slightly loosened, his expression tight with stress.

Dark circles sat stubbornly under his eyes, the kind that no amount of caffeine could erase, he looked like someone who hadn’t slept properly in days.

His eyes flicked to my bowl.

Then back to me.

“Listen,” he said quickly. “This is going to sound strange, but do you mind if I buy that special combo from you? You''ll be compensated for the meal x2.”

I paused my fork, before giving the most disgusted look ever.

This was sacrilege, did he think I could be bought out by a sheer x2 value exchange.

What was I a cheap wh*re, nope the offer needed to be at least x10 for me to even consider parting with my precious Ruru Ramen Special Combo.

“…No.”, I replied bluntly.

He blinked, clearly not expecting such a firm refusal.

“I’ll compensate you 4 times more,” he added immediately. “ x5 times in fact.

My boss is very particular, and if I don’t bring this back, she’s going to go ballistic.”

That was when I noticed it.

The pin on his lapel, it was small and subtle, very easy to miss, but once I saw it, everything made sense.

Hunter Association.

'Oh.'

That explained the stress. I leaned back slightly, staring at him for a second, then smiled with my eyes.

Now that I knew the organisation that he belonged to, my no had turned from a simple no to a never.

Then, very deliberately, I stuck my tongue out at him and took my first bite into the bowl.

The man froze.

“…Young lady,” he said weakly.

I waved my chopsticks dismissively and kept eating.

He stood there for another second, clearly fighting between pride, desperation, and the very real possibility of career death. In the end, desperation lost.

He sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and walked away, muttering something under his breath about “meetings” and “why today of all days.”

I watched him leave, then lowered my head and continued eating.

'I really need to be careful around Hunter Association people'

Especially now that I had practically disappeared in the eyes of the world and was going by a fake identity. 

I kept eating, but the taste had changed.Not because the ramen got worse, obviously. Ruru Ramen did not miss.

The problem was that my brain had decided to re-enable paranoia like it was a premium subscription.

That pin on his lapel kept replaying in my head, crisp and subtle and way too official for someone who was supposedly just a stressed office worker.

'Wherever the Hunter Association people wander trouble follows soon after.'

I glanced toward the door. The suited guy had vanished outside, moving fast like he had somewhere important to be.

Of course he did.

Hunter Association employees probably had schedules like: 9:00 AM – paperwork, 9:30 AM – attempt to prevent national disasters, 10:00 AM – get yelled at by your boss and unruly hunters.

I took another bite and tried to calm myself down.

Then I realised something. It wasn't anything crazy, something subtle.

The hunter association employee had called me a young lady without hesitation.

Not sir, not mate, but young lady. There was no turning back now.

That thought did not comfort me as much as it should have. Wait did that mean I had to start liking guys. Nope, never not happening.

Although, I had now turned into a woman physically I was still a man mentally and my attraction was still leaning towards women.

After having a mini meltdown, I finished the last of the broth, wiped my mouth, and sat there for a second, staring at the empty bowl like it held spiritual guidance.

My stomach felt better, but my mind had started spinning again.

I paid quickly and left the shop, keeping my head down.

Outside, the street felt louder than before.

Cars passed, people walked by and laughter could be heard in the background.

Every sound felt like it had sharp edges now, like it could cut into me if I wasn’t careful.

I tightened my hoodie and started walking back toward my flat.