"Kousuke."
The stern familiar voice startled Kousuke.
Blinking his eyes a few times, he stared dumbly at his father who sat opposite him. The latter had the fork and knife in both hands as he precisely cut through the steak.
"...yes, Father?"
President Kishimoto frowned. A slight frostiness lingered in his eyes.
"What made you so out of it? You haven't started eating."
Kousuke pursed his lips. Lowering his eyes, he looked at the piece of steak that he barely touched.
The father and son had dinner together tonight. They sat in a private dining room, away from the other patrons.
The venue was one of President Kishimoto's favorite foreign cuisine restaurants. He would make sure he came dining here at least thrice a month, depending on his work schedule.
"I was just thinking about the winter event at the department store," Kousuke came up with a white lie to mask the real reason he was daydreaming in front of his stoic father.
