Ririna

What good is a promise to the one who can no longer hear it? Ririna and Kyokusaburou planned it all as children, dangling their feet over the rushing water at the city's base. Kyokusaburou would perfect the broth and wear the ridiculous ramen hat. Ririna, in a smart shirt and tie, would handle the coin. They would have the best stall in the main plaza. But a squall turned the river violent one afternoon, and Kyokusaburou was pulled from the docks where they had made their plans. Ririna built the stall anyway. They wear the shirt, the tie, and the hat that was never meant for them. The fishing rod is the same one they once shared, its line a tether to a ghost. Every customer is served with perfect humility, a quiet apology for a flavor that is only half of what it was meant to be.