Pairing: Osamu Miya x Reader
Summary: after leaving a bad review at Onigiri Miya, the owner tries to convince you otherwise
Warnings: fluff and banter, cursing
A/N: honestly, I’ve always wondered what Osamu’s relationship would be like with a food critic. Plus I’m in food science so I was kind of having fun with the food in this one haha
The rice was too chewy for your liking. Just how much water did they put into the rice cooker? The onigiri was poorly held together as the rice was running away from its structure. It might as well have been the beginnings of rice pudding. Withholding a sigh of disappointment, you jotted this onto your notepad.
From the corner of your eye, the manager - undoubtedly, left by the owner to handle the stress of a reviewer - was biting their lip from behind the counter. A new employee, who occasionally popped their head from the kitchen, was curiously asking the other employees questions about who you were. All of the staff’s eyes would look towards you at one point or another. Yet, they wouldn’t be receiving a reaction from you. It would be unprofessional to express any emotion in front of them - especially disappointment.
Admittedly, you had done your research before coming here. You wanted to understand the story behind the owner. How much did they love food? Why did they open this restaurant? What did they have to go through to make it? From the store’s Twitter, Miya Osamu absolutely treasured food. Okay, you may have also done some personal research on this Miya Osamu. He even prioritized food when he could’ve joined his twin brother for a prominent career playing volleyball and making millions from one game of passing a ball back and forth across a net. Instead, Osamu holds holiday parties and gives any leftovers to the homeless in the local area. He cooks or bakes with his friends all of the time. It was clear that Osamu was surrounded by food and loved it. In fact, it was something to admire.
Unfortunately, you couldn’t taste his passion in this dish. At least, not when he was absent.
Based on every recommendation for you to visit the establishment, you thought that the food would live up to its reputation. You would’ve asked the owner about the lack of quality from today. Perhaps it was simply a mistake on the staff’s part, as if this was just the day they chose to mess up for their boss. Surely, the food wasn’t always this subpar.
After wiping your mouth with your napkin, you wrote up the review on your laptop immediately afterwards. The staff noticeably held their breath as they watched you tap away. After all, they would be able to see the review as you took your leave. Then, the inevitable comments from the owner would ensue, either leaving a wake of raises and bonuses or firing and scolding.
As you stood from your seat, you knew that scolding would surely begin once the owner returned. You nodded towards the staff, who pouted from the gesture. No doubt, with your reputation, they knew that the nod only meant one thing: do better next time.
“Who does this L/N Y/N think she is?!” Atsumu exclaimed with fearsome anger. He clutched onto Osamu’s phone with furrowed eyebrows and a glare to match. Whilst reading the article, he had been stomping around the store like a crazed wind-up toy gone rogue.
Osamu sighed dejectedly, “Stop holding onto my phone like that, ya idiot. You’ll break it.”
The older twin huffed as his protective mode flipped on, “I’m gonna give her a piece of my mind.”
“Please don’t-“ Osamu joked before he saw that Atsumu had pulled up your website and scrolled to the bottom to call the number. “Oi, get yer paws off of it.”
Atsumu ran around the store, cleverly avoiding the grasps of Osamu, who was desperately trying to prevent Atsumu from causing more damage. Osamu cursed his brother for getting even better at anticipating his opponent’s moves. Unfortunately for Osamu but luckily for Atsumu, along the tenth call, someone picked up the phone.
“H-hello?” A timid voice replied from the other side of the phone. This was the infamous L/N Y/N? Osamu didn’t imagine that you’d be so non-confrontational in real life. In your cooking live-streams, you always seemed so charismatic and easy-going. “I had to walk out of class because of this, so - so who are you? Is this for Y/N?”
“Yes!” Atsumu yelled. “I demand that she gives Onigiri Miya a chance again!”
“I’m sorry, but… but we have a rule of waiting for three months before the next review!”
“Okay, so? Give us another chance!”
The poor food critic must’ve been frightened out of her mind from his twin, because she stammered, “I’ll get you in contact later!”
She swiftly hung up, leaving Atsumu feeling proud about harassing a poor worker. Osamu frowned, “Good going. She probably thinks it was me and now thinks I’m an asshole.”
“Are you not?” Atsumu asked innocently. After receiving a slap on the side of his head, he whimpered, “Hey! I’m doing you a favor by having her come by again!”
Why? Why was this Osamu’s life? He kneaded his temples gently, hoping that he could get rid of his headache. Well, that headache has been attached to his hip ever since he was born. He leaned onto the counter and sighed, “If she replies, I’ll ask if she can come by when we’re closed on Monday.”
“See?”Atsumu smirked proudly, “You can thank me later.”
“Y/N, you went to Onigiri Miya last week, right?” Your friend and pseudo-manager, Yachi, asked as you two ate lunch together. Although you were off-duty, the shift manager of the crepe shop still anxiously watched you. Even if you were on duty, you would leave a good review - but the bread should be left with more air bubbles if he wasn’t aiming for such a dense bread.
You nodded as you placed your glass down, “Why do you ask?”
“The owner called me and asked to meet with you,” Yachi replied. Since she knew that your customary response to owners were to wait at least three months, this one must have been persistent. Otherwise, Yachi would simply sigh and tell you that someone wanted another review before dismissing it immediately. “I- I told him about your three-months-rule, but he didn’t care.”
You pursed your lips, not knowing how to react. First this Miya Osamu harasses your friend and then he disregards your rule? A soft chuckle left your mouth, “Give me his contact and I’ll talk to him myself.”
Yachi must’ve been surprised when you asked for his number, because she took a moment to process your request. She sent his contact you and then said, “I knew Miya Osamu. From high school, he was an opponent before.”
“Right, I forget that you were a manager for your high school’s volleyball team sometimes,” you said, prompting her to continue.
“He must be very serious about his restaurant to have called me that much,” she voiced with concern.
Was the three star review you gave him that offensive? Possibly, considering the fact that your word was considered gold in the food community. “He must’ve called at least ten times.”
“I’m sorry about that, Yachi,” you apologized with sincerity. Although you were paying her, she was still your friend. Her job entailed finding restaurants for you to review and setting up appointments in your schedule, not dealing with cranky owners on the phone. “I’ll take on some more calls from here on out.”
“Don’t push yourself, okay?” She replied. Her classic worried expression spread on her features as easily as warm butter spreads on bread. “You can still deny him your time.”
You smiled, “I know. Thank you, as always.”
Osamu figured that apologizing for interrupting your class must’ve been the proper way to initiate talking to you. After you greeted him, he immediately apologized for his brother’s behalf.
Y/N: Oh no, Yachi didn’t tell me that :(
Osamu: Oh, was it Yachi on the phone and not you?
The name sounded oddly familiar, but he decided to let it go.
Y/N: Mhm. So why did you look for me?
Osamu: it was actually my brother looking for ya
Osamu: he probably scared Yachi
Y/N: Haha, she’s not hard to scare
Y/N: So you want me to review your restaurant again?
Osamu: If it doesn’t trouble ya
Y/N: I usually give restaurants a three-month period before reviewing them again, so you’re special, okay?
Although Osamu couldn’t hear your tone or read your expression, your text sounded exhausted from just a few text messages sent back and forth. He knew he should’ve just not said anything. He felt bad already.
Y/N: Most of the time, the owner is there to oversee things. You weren’t.
That’s true. Osamu was selling onigiri at his brother’s volleyball tournament. It still felt like pity but Osamu wasn’t going to let this opportunity fly away from him.
Osamu: okay, then I’ll see you Monday night
With the gruesome week of midterms finally over, you and Yachi decided to have a small get together with close friends. Since her old friends from high school were also in town, it was a good opportunity for them to visit. It was also the perfect opportunity to release any stress by baking.
“The cupcakes are iced and ready for decorating,” you said to no one in particular, pleased with your neat handiwork. You wiped some stray hairs out of your vision with your forearm. Some left over butter cream frosting sitting in the bowl called your name and you just couldn’t help yourself.
Yep, your recipe was perfect.
One by one, each cupcake was beautifully decorated with a tiny cookie on top. You placed them on a cute platter and put them in the center of the food table. Preparing all of your food was your favorite part of being a hostess. The actual welcoming was delegated to Yachi. When you actually left the kitchen, Yachi was already letting in some guests.
“Hi, Tsukki and Yamaguchi!” You grinned from ear to ear. Tsukki was in your statistics class and you had met Yamaguchi at his part-time job at the campus’s Starbucks. It was purely coincidental that Yachi happened to know these two long before you ever did.
“Hi Y/N-Chan!” Yamaguchi said and pulled you into a warm hug. Tsukki only smiled at you, but didn’t initiate a hug.
A few light knocks sounded on the door. Yachi opened it and saw that two familiar faces had arrived: Kageyama and Hinata. Behind the dynamic duo, were a pair of twins that was probably Hinata’s guests. But from the looks of it, they all knew each other. In fact, the blond twin was giving Kageyama a hard time about a dump he tried to do for their practice.
The one that caught your eye the most was the one with the grey hair. In comparison, he was dressed comfortably in a nice light blue hoodie and jeans. The other three wore athletic clothes, having probably just come back from a light jog. Hopefully, Kageyama and Hinata knew that you would attack them with your Febreeze like last time if they came here stinky.
You were lost in your thoughts when you saw that the grey-haired twin was staring at you. In the dim lighting, you weren’t able to see what he really looked like. You smiled at him before welcoming them in.
“Hey Y/N-Chan! This is Miya Atsumu, from my volleyball team; and this is his twin, Miya Osamu.”
Frick. Frick. Frick! That’s why the grey-haired one kept on looking at you! A part of you wanted to grasp the innocent Hinata by his shoulders and beg of him to spare your soul of the awkwardness that would ensue. Another part of you wanted to cling to the food table before you eventually evaporated into thin air.
Before you could even say hi to the Miya twins, Atsumu already exclaimed, “Hold up, hold up. Yer L/N Y/N?!”
Welp. You were about to become the next volleyball the infamous Miya Atsumu smacked across the court. And you’ve seen him play before. You never even got the chance to cook for Gordon Ramsay. Now, it was time to start praying.
You gulped, “I’m really sorry-“
“No, no, it’s okay,” Osamu intervened. He was clearly used to his brother’s antics, holding him back by the wrist. “I’m sorry about his behavior.”
Thank goodness for Hinata because he cleared the tense air. “I have gifts for everyone since we survived midterms!”
“Hinata, you didn’t need to do that,” Yamaguchi chimed in.
Whilst everyone was swarmed by Hinata as he handed out gifts, you thanked him thoroughly before retreating to the food table. In the meanwhile, the group started to play “A Silent Voice” per Hinata and Yachi’s request. You watched them from the comfort of the food table, where you anxiously ate the choco bananas that you prepared.
“Did you make these yourself?” A voice said beside you, making you jump. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Ah, it was Osamu. He nibbled on some takoyaki that you cooked. “Uh, um, yes I did.”
You didn’t know what intimidated you more. The fact that his twin sat on your couch and had a small grudge against you. Or the fact that Osamu was right in front of you. He was definitely better looking in real life than in the pictures he posted of himself on his social media.
He’s definitely taller than you thought he would be. In fact, he still looked muscular underneath that hoodie of his. It was just another reminder of the fact that he could’ve joined Atsumu on the Japanese National Volleyball Team instead.
“It tastes delicious. I’m guessing you cooked everything here, then?” His grey eyes were kind, simply wanting to spark a conversation.
You shyly nodded. Osamu knew you as the amazing, funny cook he watched in your live-streams. Seeing how awkward you were in person and knowing that your food was delicious as he thought it was, made you seem so much more real to him. You may be confident in the kitchen, but it was truly something else to talk to you.
“Did Yachi not want to cook?”
“Ah, no,” you chuckle. “She can find her way in the kitchen with a recipe but I prefer to cook.”
“That’s the same way with my brother - okay, but he can’t even manage with a recipe.”
“You two may be identical, but not when it comes to cooking, huh?” You teased. It really was a wonder when Atsumu was causing a ruckus at the couch whereas Osamu was quietly speaking with you one-on-one.
“Sometimes I wonder how we’re related at all,” Osamu deadpanned.
You laughed and your eye-smile showcased itself to the world. Osamu blushed, relieved that you were lightening up and enjoying yourself. Soon, it’s like the night flew by. What were several hours felt like only a few minutes with Osamu. He had to leave but a part of you was already looking forward to Monday.
It was a Monday night and you were back at Onigiri Miya for the second time within three months. You pulled your hoodie closer to shield your face as you looked behind you. The people passing by didn’t pay you much mind, which you were grateful for. You knocked on the door. One. Two. Three.
The door quietly opened to reveal Osamu who let you into the store discreetly, as if you were another worker. He made sure that the closed sign still hung correctly on the door.
Since it was closed that night, the main dining area would’ve been dark except for the lights illuminating from the back and the kitchen. Even in the dim lighting, the restaurant was cleaned to perfection, with no hint of dust in any corner - even in the tallest of crannies - and a soft lemon scent to go with it. The chairs were placed onto the tables, except for a table in the very back.
“Here, have a seat,” Osamu said before turning to the kitchen. So, you made yourself comfortable.
Osamu tried to steady his breathing when he returned to the kitchen. It was just another day serving a customer, he told himself. But no - you weren’t a customer. Your opinion could change whether or not he would have as many customers as he’s had in the past - or even more in the future.
No, if I treat her any differently from the rest of my customers, I have no right being a chef.
After a few minutes, Osamu returned with a white apron tied around his waist and a wooden tray in his hands that boasted an array of food samplings. He gently placed the tray before you.
You gave a cursory glance across the tray and curiously glanced up at him. “Some of this isn’t on your menu.”
Osamu shrugged, “Some are new items that I’m thinking of adding.”
“You want me to review your restaurant… with items that aren’t even on the menu yet?” You gave a soft chuckle at the end.
“I thought about it and I don’t want you to review the restaurant, actually,” he stated. “It wouldn’t be right of me to ask you to break your three-month rule. So, all I ask is that you try some things that I made.”
The soft tension in your eyebrows drifted away. It was a simple request and you couldn’t bother walking back home on an empty stomach. With your hunger in mind - and the beautiful presentation before you -, you nodded and followed his lead “Okay, what do you want me to eat first?”
After several tries of his onigiri, a new seaweed soup, a specially fermented umeboshi dish, there was one more plate left: tamagoyaki. “You’re thinking of adding a breakfast item?”
He shook his head, “I think it should be an appetizer.”
You raised an eyebrow, wondering why it was the last one offered for the night. Osamu didn’t hesitate to alleviate your confusion with confidence. “I saved it for last because you love cooking with eggs. I followed your egg series so I wanted to see how you’d like mine.”
Oh, so he looked into you, too? An unwanted blush rose to your face. You brought a napkin to your face to wipe your mouth but discreetly control your burning cheeks. You chuckled, “I’ll give my most honest review.”
All it took was one bite.
Osamu didn’t miss the way that your eyes lit up and widened when the egg hit your taste buds. You quickly composed yourself when you noticed that his eyes were keenly observing any hint that you would drop. You swallowed lightly, took your napkin to wipe your mouth, and smiled. “It’s perfect.”
Osamu egged you on for more, like a golden retriever begging for more praise. You giggled. “What most people fail to realize is that the fluffiness of the egg can be determined by how they whisk it. Clearly, you used chopsticks and whisked it in such a way that the egg wouldn’t be dense when you cooked it. It’s fluffy. The butter isn’t traditional, but it’s still a good substitute for oil. The seaweed and dashi stock are perfect.”
“What’s the rating now? Unofficially, of course,” Osamu asked, winking at the end.
You made the effort to look contemplative and broke into a smile, “I suppose it could be a 4.5”
“Last time I remember, 4.5 rounded up to 5, so I’ll take it.” He leaned back with a satisfied smile gracing his features.
Then, you remembered something else unique about the tamagoyaki. “What else was in the tamagoyaki? It wasn’t traditional, either. I can’t put my finger on it.”
Osamu smirked and shrugged. “A chef never tells his secrets.”
“Oh, so you perform magic now?”
“Anything else you can do?”
“I can give you a great date.”
Your heart paused and mind malfunctioned. “Then I can’t really review your restaurant again.”
“That’s fine. I wouldn’t be able to wait three months to date you, anyway.”
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