Sousuke’s not going to defend that tease at all; Ryouta earns it. It’s not too much longer before the two of them are in front of the restaurant, which is a little larger up close than the farther shot. The scent of the salt air mixes eagerly with grills, spices, and a tang of citrus. It definitely wasn’t a high-class establishment, going for the rustic, homey feeling of a comfortable wharf. Iwatobi has its fancy places, but Sousuke and his ilk normally don’t frequent them; high school and all.

“Two,” the swimmer intones to the hostess, before giving a little tilt of his head. “Can we get a table on the deck?” Neither were a problem and soon enough, they’re out there on the strong wood, the coastal breeze tugging at dark and yellow hair alike. There’s a host of food on the menu too, ranging anywhere from catch of the day (fried, broiled, or baked), the famous squid dishes Iwatobi’s known for, shellfish boils, rice plates with pork sides, traditional Japanese soups, and of course sushi options, though that’s not the main attraction here.

“The portions are pretty large so it’ll fill you up.” Probably because of the fishing industry and academia around the town.