Mister Regular Customer

“Hey there! So, how was your first taste of ‘Ramen’?”

I did not particularly care for dwarves, but when it came to food, I could not bring myself to “lie.”
So I answered him honestly.

“Yeah… it was delicious. I don’t think food has left me feeling that satisfied in nearly a hundred years….”

The dwarf regular broke into a smile and pointed toward a corner of the alley.

“Why don’t we go over there and talk for a bit?”

The regular’s name was Ouri.

From what he told me, it seemed that most of the rumors I had heard could ultimately be traced back to him.

According to him, the man in white… Taisho, had indeed first appeared about a year ago.

He would appear out of nowhere and serve ramen to the starving orphans in this back alley.
Ouri, who lived in this castle town, had first heard the rumors half a year ago, and back then, only children gathered around Taisho’s cart—which was apparently called a “yatai.”

Out of sheer curiosity, Ouri tried a bite, immediately became intoxicated by the flavor of ramen, and thereafter began visiting almost every night.

Apparently, the ramen had tasted every bit as wonderful then as it did now, but since the only people eating it were orphans, word had never really spread, and Taisho had simply continued feeding ramen to the children in silence.

As Ouri kept coming, he and Taisho eventually became able to communicate with each other using simple words.

For example, the ramen-summoning phrase, “Taisho, ramen iccho,” consisted of three words.
Taisho, ramen… those hardly needed explanation, but apparently the final word, iccho, meant something along the lines of “one, please.”

He had also learned that the two wooden sticks were called “waribashi,” the white-and-green plant atop the ramen was “yakumi,” the pork was “chashu,” the yellow strands were “men,” the ridged white disk with the pink spiral was “naruto,” the simmered bamboo shoots were “menma,” and the deep bowl used to hold the ramen was called a “donburi.”

At first, Ouri had simply eaten whatever he was served for free, but eventually he began to feel guilty and started paying of his own accord. Incidentally, the price of one silver coin was something Ouri himself had decided on; Taisho apparently had no desire for money.

According to Taisho, he did this as a “douraku”… which apparently meant a hobby….

After becoming a fan of Taisho’s ramen, Ouri had decided that such a magnificent flavor deserved better than to remain buried in a dark alley, so he actively began spreading the word, which had led to the situation today.

After hearing his story, my expression clouded.

“B-But… from what you’ve just told me, aren’t we taking the orphans’ meals away from them just because we want to eat ramen…?”

At that, Ouri gave me a grin.

“Heh, don’t worry about that. I took in every brat from this alley and adopted ’em.”

“What…? Every child who lived in this alley!?”

“Yeah. Think there were about twenty of ’em…?”

“Y-You…! You adopted twenty children!?”

That revelation stunned me. I had always thought dwarves were greedy creatures… but taking in twenty orphans was an admirable act of charity indeed!

Ouri extended his right hand toward me and spoke.

“Heh heh. Let me introduce myself properly… I’m Ouri Duoall. A dwarf. I’m a jeweler by trade. And I’m first-rate at it too, so I’ve got more commissions than I know what to do with and can make plenty of money. Oh, and I’m also known by the nickname ‘the greatest gourmet among dwarves’!”

Before long, the yatai apparently ran out of ingredients, and the stall closed for the night. As Ouri and I stood talking in the alley, Taisho walked over to us.

Ouri casually raised a hand.

“Hey, otsukaresan!”

Taisho flashed a broad grin.

“Otsukaresan desu.”

Then he held out a bag filled with silver coins to Ouri.

Ouri accepted it, turned back toward me, and smiled somewhat sheepishly.

“That said… what I earn on my own isn’t enough to give all those brats a proper life. Feeding ’em three meals a day, keeping ’em in clean clothes, teaching ’em a trade for their future, and even giving ’em spending money… that’s a bit much. So I let myself rely on what Taisho earns too!”

I gave a wry smile.

…Well, raising twenty children would be beyond the income of a single jeweler, no matter how skilled he might be. Besides, it was strange for such magnificent “Ramen” to be completely free in the first place!

Taisho had originally made ramen to feed the orphans, so if the money ultimately went toward allowing them to live happily, surely he would have no reason to object.

I walked over to Taisho, bowed respectfully, and spoke.

“Taisho-dono. My name is Rinsir, an elf. I was deeply moved by the taste of your ramen.”

Taisho smiled happily and said,

“Matatabeni kite kudasai yo, okyakusan!”

Then, waving as he went, he pulled his yatai away just as he had arrived and disappeared into the darkness….