Flicking on the light, a warm glow spread across the room. He moved to the kitchen, setting the bags down before unpacking each item with care. His hands moved quickly—placing fresh vegetables in the fridge, neatly stacking the snacks, and carefully setting aside the prized cuts of meat.
For the first time in a long while, dinner wasn't just about survival. Tonight, he was going to eat well.
The refrigerator, once a barren space with nothing but a few leftovers and a half-empty carton of milk, was now packed with fresh vegetables, thick cuts of meat, and an array of luxuries he'd never thought he'd own. As Ryo organized everything, a deep sense of satisfaction filled him. This was different. This was his victory.
No more instant noodles. No more barely getting by.
Tonight, he was going to eat like a king.
With that thought, he moved to the pantry above the stove, neatly stacking dry goods—rice, pasta, canned vegetables, sauces. The shelves, once depressingly empty, were now overflowing with possibilities. Just looking at them made him grin.
Finally done, he grabbed a can of beer from the fridge and cracked it open with a satisfying hiss. The cold liquid slid down his throat, crisp and refreshing, washing away the last remnants of stress.
Leaning back against the counter, he exhaled slowly, letting the moment sink in.
So this is what it feels like… to actually live.
In that quiet moment, with the faint glow of city lights beyond his window, Ryo felt something he hadn't in a long time—peace. A rare, undisturbed sense of freedom, as if the world had finally thrown him a bone.
His gaze fell on the thick envelope resting on the table, a silent testament to everything he had endured. The long hours in that sterile lab, the cold gazes of researchers who saw him as nothing more than data—none of it mattered now. The crisp bills inside were proof that he'd made the right choice.
Thumbing through the money again, a grin tugged at his lips. This… this is a lifeline.
For once, he wouldn't have to stress over rent or meals. He could focus on his studies, maybe even set aside something for the future—something beyond just surviving.
That thought alone called for a celebration.
With renewed energy, he strode toward the fridge, pulling out ingredients with a kind of excitement he hadn't felt in years. The kitchen soon came alive—the sharp sizzle of meat hitting the pan, the warm scent of sautéed vegetables, the rhythmic clink of utensils against the stovetop. The aroma of grilling meat filled the apartment, rich and savory, a stark contrast to the bland, packaged meals he'd lived on for so long.
Still, it wasn't enough.
Grinning, Ryo reached for more—extra seasoning, an extra cut of meat, even a hearty bowl of miso soup. As a final touch, he cracked an egg over the sizzling dish, watching as it melded into the broth, enriching the flavors.
"Oh hell yeah!" he laughed, caught up in the pure joy of making a meal that was truly his. No compromises, no cutting corners—just indulgence. The rich scent of umami-filled broth and perfectly seasoned meat wrapped around him like a warm embrace.
For the first time in forever, he wasn't just eating to survive.
Stirring the pan with a satisfied grin, Ryo could already imagine how damn good this meal was going to be—the kind he used to only dream about. No more cutting portions, no more cheap instant food.
Tonight, he didn't have to hold back.
With the rich aroma of grilled meat and miso soup filling the air, he plated his food and carried it over to the small table by the window. The city lights shimmered beyond the glass, casting a soft glow over the room. It was a quiet, peaceful moment—one that felt strangely unfamiliar, yet deeply comforting.
Settling into his chair, Ryo took the first bite.
And damn, it was good.
The tender meat melted in his mouth, the perfect blend of umami and spice hitting just right. He took his time, savoring every bite, letting the warmth of the meal chase away the exhaustion of the past few days.
No stress. No looming deadlines. Just him, his food, and the quiet hum of the night.
For the first time in ages, he wasn't just eating to survive—he was enjoying it.
His mind wandered as he ate, drifting toward thoughts of the future. For once, it didn't feel like some endless struggle just to stay afloat. With this money, he could finally breathe, plan ahead. Maybe even dream a little.
Finishing his meal, he leaned back in his chair, exhaling a deep sigh of satisfaction. He reached for his beer, took another slow swig, and felt the last traces of tension melt away.
This moment—this feeling of absolute, unshaken peace—was something he'd never had before.
And for once, he allowed himself to sink into it completely.
As he sat in the quiet, his mind wandered.
This money… it changed everything.
Rent? No problem. The textbooks he'd been putting off? He could finally get them. Maybe even buy some decent clothes instead of wearing the same old ones over and over. But beyond just the practical stuff, this was his chance—his chance to finally step forward without constantly worrying about tomorrow.
For the first time in a long while, he could actually breathe.
Ryo took a slow breath, feeling the weight on his shoulders lighten, replaced with something new. A quiet, steady sense of relief.
Finishing the last sip of his beer, he stood up and stretched before walking to the window. The city spread out before him, its lights flickering like a sea of stars. Each one held a story, a possibility. And for the first time, he felt like maybe—just maybe—he could carve out a place for himself in this world.
He smirked.
"Not bad," he muttered to himself.
With a satisfied sigh, he cleaned up his dinner, enjoying the lingering scent of a meal well-earned, then headed to the bathroom for a shower.
The hot water ran down his back, easing the tension in his muscles, washing away the exhaustion of the past few days. He let himself stand under the stream for a while, just enjoying the simple pleasure of warmth. When he stepped out, he felt refreshed, like the stress had finally melted away.
Tonight, he would let himself celebrate.
The weight of everything he had been through settled in—not as a burden, but as proof of his success. Tomorrow, a new journey would begin, one filled with hope, courage, and determination. But for now, he could rest.
As he lay in bed, the city lights cast a soft glow across his small apartment, wrapping him in quiet peace. Whatever the future held, he was ready to face it head-on.
A grin spread across Ryo's face.
"Can't wait for tomorrow," he murmured, excitement buzzing in his chest.
For once, he could actually enjoy what he had earned. Maybe he'd indulge a little—buy something nice, treat himself to a good meal again. He could even open a bank account and start saving for the future.
The thought brought a new sense of security, something steady and real.
Sinking deeper into the comfort of his bed, he let himself relax. Tomorrow would come soon enough.
And for the first time in a long while, the future actually felt bright.
( End of Chapter )