Sam stood in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection.
His hair was still a mess.
"No amount of fixing is gonna save this."
With a sigh, he did his best to tame the chaos, splashed some cold water on his face, and braced himself for what was waiting downstairs.
Mahiru had already gone ahead, meaning he would have to walk into the dining room alone.
Where Mahiru's father would be.
Watching him.
Judging him.
Possibly plotting his demise.
"Alright, Sam. Just eat, don't say anything stupid, and don't make eye contact with him for too long. Simple."
Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the room and made his way downstairs.
The dining room was cozy, filled with the warm aroma of freshly made breakfast.
Sam's stomach growled as he took in the sight of the table, which was set with fluffy omelets, crispy toast, a bowl of steaming rice, miso soup, small plates of grilled sausage, fruit slices, and salad.
Mahiru's mother greeted him with a warm smile. "Good morning, Sam. Did you sleep well?"
Sam almost choked.
No. He did not.
"Y-Yeah, it was great!" he lied with a forced smile.
Mahiru, already seated, gave him a knowing smirk. "Oh? You slept well? Even after all that tossing and turning?"
Sam shot her a silent glare.
Traitor.
Mahiru giggled and gestured to the seat next to her. "Come on, sit down before the food gets cold."
He hesitated.
Sitting next to Mahiru meant sitting across from her father.
The same father who was now staring at him over his cup of tea.
Sam gulped and carefully took his seat, avoiding eye contact.
Mahiru's mother placed a plate with an omelet and toast in front of him, along with a spoon and fork.
"Ah, right... They noticed last night."
Sam silently thanked the heavens.
At dinner, he had suffered trying to use chopsticks, fumbling so much that Mahiru's mother had kindly offered him a spoon and fork instead.
Now, as he picked up the fork, he felt true relief but there was a little bit of embarrassment of not being able to eat with chopsticks.
"I won't further embarrass myself this time."
He dug into his omelet with confidence, savoring the warm, fluffy texture. "This is amazing!" he said sincerely.
Mahiru's mother smiled. "I'm glad you like it."
He reached for the toast next, feeling relaxed for the first time.
That is, until he felt it.
A chill.
A powerful, overwhelming presence.
Mahiru's father was watching him.
Not just watching.
Analyzing.
Studying.
Judging.
Sam froze mid-bite.
He dared to glance up.
Their eyes met.
For a brief second, time stopped.
Mahiru's father narrowed his eyes slightly, sipping his tea.
Sam broke into a cold sweat.
"He knows. He knows I struggled with the chopsticks. He's judging my weakness."
Mahiru leaned in, whispering, "Relax, he's not going to eat you."
"I'm not so sure about that..." Sam whispered back.
Somehow, he finished breakfast without further disaster.
As he set his fork down, Mahiru's father gave him a small, approving nod.
Sam's soul ascended.
He did it.
He passed.
Mahiru leaned in, whispering, "Wow, I think he actually likes you now."
Sam whispered back. "That was the scariest meal of my life."
Mahiru giggled. "Welcome to my world."
As the family started clearing the table, Sam stretched his arms and sighed.
He survived breakfast.
Now he just had to survive the rest of the trip.
And, considering Mahiru was still smirking at him, he had a feeling it was going to be anything but easy.
----