They say the deliciousness of meat isn’t determined solely by its grade. The flavor of meat is a matter so intricate that it requires a professional eye—and a fair amount of knowledge—to truly grasp. But let’s set aside all the complicated stuff for now. The point is: pros know what makes good meat, and high prices are usually a reflection of confidence in the product’s quality. Add in costs for ingredients and craftsmanship, and well, when in doubt, choosing an expensive restaurant is often a decent strategy for amateurs.
So how does Gyuutenrou fare in that regard? With prices to match its bold reputation, it delivers meat of the highest caliber. The sheen on the beautifully arranged slices of meat and the mouthwatering aroma rising from the grill as Hikaru cooks them—both leave no room for complaint.
“Ohh, I’ve never seen meat like this before. I don’t recall the meat at the suupeaa lookin’ anything like this. Could this be what they call… ‘the difference’?”
“What are you even comparing it to? At least compare it to department store meat…”
“Department stores are too vast—I get lost in them…”
While Inari’s ears drooped in defeat, Hikaru continued flipping the meat with practiced ease. Once it was grilled to perfection, she divvied it up and served it onto their plates.
And now… came the moment of truth. The time to savor this pricey piece of perfection. Exchanging a brief nod, Inari and Hikaru dipped the meat into the sauce and popped it into their mouths.
It melted. Melted, literally. It softly dissolved across the tongue, yet the fat wasn’t overpowering in the slightest. This… this was delicious.
“This is… without a doubt, exquisite.”
“Yeah… damn, this is good…”
They say when someone eats something truly delicious, they’re left speechless. But maybe that’s not quite true. Perhaps it’s not that they can’t speak, but that every other word feels crude in comparison. After all, the first thing you feel when you taste something this good is simply: “delicious.” What more needs to be said? When two people share that experience, words become unnecessary. The truth is right there—on their tongues.
Inari, delighted by the flavor, tried placing a piece of meat on top of some rice. Wrapping the meat around the rice with her chopsticks and lifting it to her mouth, she found a new dimension of flavor. The refined fat and rich umami soaked into the rice, revealing a new harmony. This too… was delicious. The rice itself was excellent. Its natural sweetness paired beautifully with the meat. It was a perfect union—each ingredient enhancing the other. It had to be specially selected rice, no doubt. The compatibility was flawless.
“So this… this be the legendary pairing of meat and rice. I feel as though I understand it now. And to attempt recreating this in furikake form… quite the bold endeavor indeed. But they went and made it into a product. They must truly believe in it…”
“…Yeah, I guess…”
Hikaru couldn’t help but worry that Inari’s expectations were getting a little too high—after all, she didn’t want the makers to suffer backlash if it didn’t live up to this moment. Still, it felt wrong to rain on her parade. Calling it “just yakiniku-style” furikake would only dull the sparkle in Inari’s eyes, and she had no intention of doing that. Instead, she reached for the tongs to grill the next piece of meat—only for Inari to gently grab them first.
“Let me grill the next one. ‘Tis only fair we take turns, after all.”
“Eh? I’m fine doing it—I’m definitely better at it.”
“Even so—”
“It’s fine.”
Hikaru plucked the tongs back from Inari, but Inari sensed a subtle growl of territorial warning in that move. It wasn’t that Hikaru didn’t trust her—but rather, watching her happily grilling the meat made it clear: this was part of the fun for her. Realizing this, Inari smiled gently, deciding not to interfere.
“What a charming creature she is. Still… I do understand. The sizzle of meat on the grill is indeed a joyful sound.”
In truth, it wasn’t just about the sound. Hikaru was a textbook “yakiniku master”, the kind who insisted on grilling all the meat herself. But Inari had no way of knowing that. Hikaru was enjoying herself, and Inari enjoyed watching her do so. It was a situation where both parties were perfectly content.
Seeing Inari smiling so warmly, Hikaru seemed to have a change of heart and held the tongs out toward her.
“Uh… wanna take a turn for the next one?”
“Fufufu. Nay, fret not. Simply watching thee grill brings me joy, after all.”
“R-Really?”
Being told that made Hikaru light up with happiness—she clearly did want to be the one grilling. And seeing her that way made Inari happy in turn. It was a moment of mutual fulfillment. As Hikaru grilled the next batch of meat, they ate together in bliss, enjoying every second of this delicious, heartwarming time.
…
“Haah… that was truly a fine meal.”
“Yeah. Totally satisfied…”
With dessert—fresh fruit—capping off the meal, both were left completely content. Since the place accepted payments via Awakener Cards, they were able to split the bill neatly—though it was actually Hikaru who insisted on splitting it after Inari had offered to cover everything.
And thus ended their yakiniku outing for the day.
…By the way, when Inari got home and tried her rice with yakiniku-flavored furikake, her verdict was:
“Aye. 'Tis delicious.”
And with that, the development team at Wado Foods finally had their efforts rewarded.
Everyone was happy. And that was the end result of it all.