Ren stopped in front of a small restaurant, quietly nestled between the bright, bustling streets nearby.
Compared to the glimmering lights outside, this place looked humble, dark wooden panels, a few pots of silver-leaf plants hanging from the eaves, and a simple cloth curtain embroidered with a flickering flame swaying gently in the breeze.
The outer walls had faded a little, the paint peeling here and there, yet every detail seemed meticulously kept, as if someone cared deeply for even the smallest imperfection.
Even the small signboard, polished to a faint sheen, carried the same sense of care.
Ren's eyes traced the carved letters: 「Homebound Inn」
He smiled faintly, murmuring, "Home… huh."
His fingers brushed the weathered wooden door.
A soft creak echoed as he pushed it open, and a wave of warmth swept out to greet him.
The scent of roasted meat, freshly baked bread, and a faint note of herbs filled the air, a fragrance that stopped Ren for a moment.
He had smelled something like this before, somewhere… in those small roadside diners back in the real world, the kind he used to walk past on cold evenings.
But he had never once stepped inside.
What met his eyes next was the sight of the dining room, smaller than he expected, just enough space for three medium tables, each placed apart with a narrow aisle between.
The furniture was worn, dark wood scratched at the corners, yet still sturdy, almost proud, as if it had been standing there for decades, waiting for someone to return.
Warm yellow light from oil lamps hung above, spilling across the floor in faint diagonal streaks.
Soft murmurs filled the air, the clink of spoons against bowls, the whisper of wind through cracks in the door, all blending with the drifting aroma of baked bread and stew.
Ren paused for a moment at the doorway.
The décor, the placement of the tables, even the soft yellow tone of the walls, it all reminded him of small eateries from another world, the kind that office workers would stop by after a long day just to have a warm meal.
He couldn't quite explain it, but the place felt peaceful.
A strange mix of familiarity and distance, as if he had once sat here before, in a dream long forgotten.
"Rowa, what do you think about marinating the meat overnight with honey and herbs before grilling?"
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"At least we should try it once."
Ren looked up toward the source of the conversation, behind the small ordering counter.
Inside the cozy room were four people, likely the entire staff of the inn.
The first was a young woman with short ash-brown hair cut to her chin, her face round and gentle — soft like the reflection of lamplight on a glass cup.
She was carefully jotting something down in a small notebook, perhaps a dessert recipe. The way she smiled slightly each time she tasted something reminded Ren of the kind-hearted women who worked in family diners in the real world.
Beside her stood a tall, broad-shouldered man with slicked-back black hair and a weathered face.
He wore a thick leather apron, cutting meat with the steady precision of a seasoned hunter. The gleam of his knife under the lamp seemed to reflect a life once spent in wild lands, now at peace beside a hearth.
At the center of the kitchen was a girl with reddish-brown hair tied low, a few loose strands brushing her cheek.
Her face showed a quiet intensity as she stirred a sauce, the aroma spreading through the air. Every motion was deliberate, her head tilting slightly as if listening to each note of flavor, like a conductor testing every tone before a symphony.
She moved quickly and precisely, nodding each time the taste met her expectations. She didn't notice Ren watching, as though, for her, the entire world was contained in the dish before her.
Just behind her, a young man stirred a steaming pot of soup, smiling as he spoke, filling the room with warmth.
His black hair fell loosely across his forehead, his eyes bright with mischief and good humor. His even, lively tone carried a teasing charm that made the kitchen feel less like a workplace and more like a home.
(This scene is inspired by the side story — Sword Art Online Alternative: Gourmet Seekers.)
Ren stepped inside, his heavy boots creaking against the old wooden floor, the sound echoing softly through the warm air.
That small noise immediately made the black-haired boy behind the counter look up. "Hey, everyone, we've got a customer."
At his words, the rhythm of knives, the stirring, and the sound of pages flipping all came to a stop.
One by one, the others turned toward the doorway.
The light from the oil lamps fell gently, illuminating the silhouette of a young boy standing at the doorway. His face was pale, almost porcelain-like, glowing faintly beneath the warm firelight. The sapphire blue of his eyes caught the golden glimmers in the room, both cold and soft, like polished glass.
Strands of jet-black hair swayed lightly in the breeze, leaving behind an impression both unfamiliar and strangely captivating.
Only the red-brown-haired girl with her hair tied high still hadn't turned around. Her eyes remained fixed on the sauce as it thickened gradually, the wooden spoon in her hand stirring in steady rhythm with the quiet breath of the kitchen.
"Wait a moment, I'm almost done," she said softly, her tone calm and even, utterly undisturbed by the presence of a stranger.
A few moments later, when the last bubble in the pot faded away, she set the spoon down, wiped her hands with a small towel, and finally turned around.
"Welcome, please take a seat," she said. Her voice was gentle yet firm, her eyes flickering with a trace of surprise at the sight of Ren, the first customer of the evening.
Ren gave a faint nod instead of replying, his gaze drifting across the small dining space before settling on a table near the window, where the streetlights outside mingled with the reflection of the tavern's flame.
He removed his gloves, the pair he had casually bought earlier that afternoon at the market, and placed them neatly on the table. His movements were so careful and deliberate that a few of the people inside couldn't help but watch, drawn as naturally as one would to something quietly endearing.
The black-haired young man who had spoken earlier stepped forward briskly. His smile carried a warmth tinged with curiosity, the same kind of welcome small innkeepers reserved for travelers.
"Welcome to Homebound Inn! I'm Yuzu. You… it's your first time here, right?"
Ren lifted his gaze, the light glinting in his blue eyes. "Yes. I heard this place was run by players… so I wanted to take a look."
Yuzu nodded, visibly pleased by the question. "We just opened a few days ago, actually. Still testing out the menu, so if you don't mind… there might be a bit of a wait."
"That's fine." Ren's voice was calm, the kind that came from someone long accustomed to waiting.
His eyes wandered toward the counter, where the red-brown-haired girl, likely the head chef, was discussing something with the broad-shouldered hunter.
Yuzu placed a thin leather-bound menu on the table, leaning slightly as he whispered, "If you want to try something special, go for one of my sister Hina's dishes. You won't be disappointed."
Ren blinked, a faint curve forming at the corner of his lips. "Your sister?"
"Yeah." Yuzu grinned, the kind of grin bright enough to drive away the tavern's quiet stillness. "She's the head chef here. We're just… amateur assistants at best."
Ren gave a small nod, his gaze lowering to the menu. Beyond familiar dishes like vegetable soup and toasted bread, most of the entries were simple things, sandwiches, handmade noodles, all reminiscent of food from another world.
His eyes stopped at the line: Hot Handmade Noodles. The handwriting was uneven, but there was a kind of warmth hidden in it.
As if sensing Ren's interest, Yuzu spoke again, his tone light but edged with quiet pride:
"We're trying to recreate the taste of the real world, or at least, what we still remember of it. But the ingredients here… are very different."
He chuckled, a mix of self-deprecation and patience in his voice.
"Some things just don't exist here. Some can be substituted, but they never taste the same. So the dishes might be a little… inconsistent. Even so, I think you'll feel what we're trying to express."
Yuzu tilted his head slightly, his eyes brightening as he added:
"The menu's still a work in progress. We're still learning to cook them, from memory."
"Then I'll take this one," Ren said quietly, lifting his eyes.
"Good choice," Yuzu smiled, his expression lighting up. "That's my sister's favorite this week. Ah.. would you like any toppings? Bacon, boiled egg, or herbs?"
"All of them," Ren replied, his tone relaxed, yet tinged with something distant.
Yuzu hesitated for a moment, as if the words struck something deep within him. He simply nodded, then turned back toward the counter. "One hot noodle bowl! Special version!"
"Got it!" Hina's voice rang out, strong, clear, blending with the bubbling sound of boiling water.
Ren leaned back in his chair, narrowing his eyes slightly. From here, he could see Hina's silhouette moving behind the counter, swift, precise, sometimes so fast that the ends of her hair lifted with her motions.
She wasn't the calm type, she was the kind who poured every ounce of herself into what she did.
Ren watched quietly, letting the sounds of the tavern, the clink of knives on cutting boards, the soft boil of water, the creak of wooden floors, blend into a gentle, almost nostalgic melody.
At last, a steaming bowl of noodles was set down before him. The broth shimmered, releasing faint wisps of heat; a delicate fragrance filled the air, wrapping the table in its warmth.
Ren lowered his gaze, studying the bowl before him. He wasn't even sure what to call it, noodles, or perhaps ramen?
In this world, did people still call it that? Or was it simply a dish recreated from the faint memories of a world long gone?