Chapter 1: Picking Up a Gloomy Beauty

──Suit yourself.

Raindrops dampened skin as white as fresh snow, skin so pale it seemed to dissolve away at any moment.

Showing no sign of shame, a girl with delicate features, wearing only black underwear, spat out in a despondent tone.

On the bed in a man's room.

This beautiful girl, with words that could be construed as a taunt, stared blankly at the ceiling with dark, empty eyes, as if she had resigned herself to everything.

“...Men are all the same, aren't they?”

These words sounded like mockery, but they lacked any hint of teasing, and she was so listless that no emotion could be detected.

I don't care what happens to me.

As if stating this, she remained still in a vulnerable position, lying supine on the bed.

A careless, self-destructive girl.

With such an attitude, even though I was a high school boy in the height of puberty, lust should be stirring... or so it ought to.

Despite her lack of emotion, her face was so striking that it was unforgettable at first sight.

Raindrops trailed down her full breasts—large in contrast to her seemingly thin emotions—involuntarily drawing my gaze.

Above all, it was just me and her.

In my own room where no one else was around.

The certainty that family members like my parents or younger sister wouldn't interrupt only intensified my surging desires, making it a struggle to suppress them. I clenched the rain-soaked chest of my shirt tightly, as if to hold back my ragged breathing.

This beautiful neighbor, whom I normally could only admire from afar.

Now, I could touch her hidden skin.

In this unbelievable, unreal situation, a sound of desire unconsciously escaped my throat.

Simultaneously, the sound of my heart pounding rapidly, a warning bell, vibrated in my eardrums.

In my feverish mind, the primal question arose: How did this happen?

In the first place, I was starting to lose track of why this girl—my neighbor from next door, Sajou-san—who was now on my bed, acting as if she was ready to be assaulted, was even in my room.

──We had never even exchanged a proper greeting.

Why?

As if escaping from the unreality before my eyes, I lightly closed my eyelids.

Behind my eyelids, a clear blue sky. The dazzling morning sunlight dyed my vision white──

　　　　■■

Beep beep beep The electronic sound echoed, pulling my consciousness back to the surface.

Still drowsy, I remained lying down, and the alarm stopped ringing, returning a comforting silence like a cradle.

However, after a while, the snooze function kicked in, starting to blare loudly again.

A cry that rivaled a rooster's crow.

Repeating the alarm and snooze three times, I had no choice but to get up, whether I liked it or not.

I groped for my phone on the headboard and checked the time with eyes that barely opened. It was past half-past seven.

There was still some time before I had to leave for school, but hitting snooze again would put me on the verge of being late – a precarious line.

“...Have to get, up…”

I tried to say it out loud, but the hand holding the phone dropped limply onto the bed. Knockout.

Splash! By the time I washed my face in the bathroom, it was already a time zone where I might be late.

I felt a sense of urgency, but the feeling of "well, if I'm late, I'm late" had become lax, perhaps because my family had moved out due to my father's business trip, leaving me living alone. Even after washing my face, the reflection in the mirror looked relaxed, maybe because of that too.

Scratching my head, I headed to the living room, and it struck me again – "Ah, living alone." There was barely space to step, with laundry collected but not folded, towers of empty cans that I'd stacked up for fun instead of throwing away, and a vacuum cleaner left out, intending to clean but never getting around to it.

Wait. Half a year ago, when I lived with my family, it wasn't this messy… was it?

I tilted my head.

Pretending to be oblivious, of course, the cause was my own laziness.

Household chores when living alone were just bothersome enough to make me think, "Oh well, whatever," and toss them aside. But, living without having to worry about anyone else was very comfortable, and I was, in many ways, enjoying it.

...Imagining my mom seeing this mess sent a chill down my spine. My sister… well, she's whatever.

With not much time left before school, breakfast was a discounted tuna mayo rice ball I bought at the supermarket yesterday. Tuna mayo is supreme.

Not just for breakfast, I relied heavily on supermarkets, but that's probably how it is for a student living alone.

Just showering every day and doing laundry is already considered good enough. Cleaning is… well, sometimes.

Comparing myself to even lazier high school boys who probably exist somewhere in the world, I proceeded with getting ready for school.

Then, I changed into my uniform and went to the front door.

“Hmm…”

I crushed the heels of my shoes and slipped them on. Just as I was about to go, I remembered I hadn’t locked the door and hurriedly went back.

I had done that once before, and I remembered how it had chilled me to the bone. Confirming the click sound, I left the entrance again.

“...Hnnngh.”

As I walked down the shared hallway of the apartment building, yawning, a familiar woman walked towards me from the front.

My neighbor from next door. Her name was… I forgot.

I'm bad at remembering faces, and I usually don't even bother to remember residents of the same apartment, but unusually, I properly remembered her face. Or rather, I hadn’t been able to forget it since the first time I saw her.

Because her face was just too good.

People often compare idols based on their looks, but to me, they weren't even in the same league.

It was as if she had jumped out of a two-dimensional world, with flawless features that couldn’t be faulted.

Her age was probably a few years older than mine. She gave off the image of a college-aged woman, but she wore no makeup and was dressed in a plain black hoodie and pants, seemingly indifferent to fashion.

And yet, the reason I couldn't forget her face was, I could only conclude, because her raw material was just too good.

...Well, there was also a certain area, even under the thick fabric of her hoodie, that was aggressively assertive. But that shouldn't be related to the reason I couldn't forget her face. Probably.

Even though she was my neighbor, opportunities to meet face-to-face were rare.

Still not used to it, I was momentarily captivated by her face, too perfect and dazzling to look at directly in the morning.

“U-, um, good morn-, ing.”

Just as we were about to pass each other in the hallway, I managed to utter a greeting.

But well, I figured I wouldn't get a reply.

I had passed her a few times before, just like today, but I had never once received a greeting back.

Her reaction was just to raise her face because she heard a voice.

Without even twitching an eyebrow, she just turned her dark eyes, like a starless night sky, towards me.

No amiability whatsoever. A one-way greeting.

This level of coldness wasn’t unusual even among other residents, but maybe because I remembered her face, it left a strangely strong impression. But I didn't feel any ill will towards her, perhaps because she was beautiful? I wasn’t even sure about that myself.

“(It’s fine by me, though.)”

I thought genuinely, not just to sound tough.

Rather, if she suddenly replied with a beaming smile, "Good morning!", my heart would probably stop in various ways.

We just live in the same apartment building, we're not even acquaintances, so it's really none of my busin──

“...Good morning,”

──Just as I was thinking that and walking past her down the hallway she had come from, a faint voice tapped me on the back.

An unfamiliar, clear voice vibrated my eardrums.

Surprised.

I abruptly turned around, but the entrance was recessed into the hallway like a dent. Hidden by the walls around it, she was no longer visible.

“...Huh?”

With a time lag, a surprised sound escaped my mouth.

For a moment, I wondered if it was someone else, but there was no one else around. Even when I peeked below the wall, which was chest-high, I couldn't find anyone.

It was such a small, faint voice, like it might have been a mishearing, as if it would just vanish.

But that voice had certainly reached my ears.

Somehow, I was overcome with an indescribable emotion… a kind of fuzziness.

Was this a good thing, or a bad thing? It was hard to judge. Especially since there was no change in her expression.

But maybe, the too-beautiful neighbor was in a good mood.

Come to think of it, she was holding a bag from the cake shop near the station.

Maybe it was a celebration of some kind. At the very least, there might be an event that would make even the unfriendly her return a greeting.

If so, it must be a good thing, right?

“Ugh.”

I looked up at the sky from the hallway.

Mid-June. In the middle of the rainy season, with rain continuing day after day, the summer solstice sun, at the entrance to summer, was increasing its brilliance and glaring.

Will it be a good day, I wonder?

Should I take this unexpected event as an auspicious sign, or an ominous one?

Thick clouds flowed across the sky. If it snowed out of season, which would it be, I wondered, but a smile crept onto my face.

For a gloomy morning, it wasn't a bad feeling at all.

　　　　■■

“Morning—”

Time was just about up. I managed to slip into the classroom just as homeroom was about to start.

"Overslept?" or "Probably stayed up all night gaming, huh?"

I casually brushed off the teasing voices with "Something like that" and went to my seat.

As soon as I put my bag down, classmates swarmed around me.

Talking about how the anime from yesterday was.

How they were looking forward to the drama that would end next week but didn't want it to end.

I responded to their rapid-fire chatter with vague nods and agreements.

The content of my replies was mostly empty – "Huh," "Maybe," "Totally," and other flimsy words. But it still became a conversation, so Japanese is pretty convenient, I thought.

Such vague words. But that doesn't mean my classmates' stories are boring... well, maybe they are a little.

It's not that I hate talking. It's just tiring.

No matter how trivial the topic, I try to show empathy so as not to break the atmosphere.

Putting on a plastered-on smile, trying not to stand out in class, but also not to fade into the background.

Conforming. Conforming. Conforming.

After school. Stepping out of the school gates, I let out a quiet breath.

“Tired…”

More mentally than physically.

It was a life where my breathing felt restricted, thin. Suffocating.

But, more or less, if you live in a group, this kind of suffocation is probably something everyone feels.

When many people gather, it's natural for the air to thin.

"School life is just like this, right?" – a resigned thought floated to the surface of my mind like a bubble.

Pitter-patter, suddenly, a drop of water hit the tip of my nose, and "Cold!" escaped my lips.

Rubbing the tip of my nose with my index finger, I looked up at the sky, where black clouds were spreading, trying to obscure the sky even before the night curtain fell.

“I thought today was going to be a good day, though.”

People's premonitions are apparently unreliable.

Praying that it would at least hold off until I got home, I hurried my heavy feet, kicking at the worn asphalt.

　　　　■■

Praying to God, of course, rarely gets you anywhere.

As expected, but unfortunately, it started to rain.

I wasn't the type of diligent person to carry a folding umbrella just because it was the rainy season, and since it wasn't raining in the morning, I hadn't brought any means to protect myself from the rain falling from the sky.

Using my bag as an umbrella, I rushed to my apartment building as quickly as possible. I shook my body like a wet dog, scattering droplets of water.

Of course, that alone couldn’t completely remove the rain absorbed by my uniform.

With my heavy body, I somehow managed to climb the stairs to my floor.

I was about to quickly pass through the shared hallway when, just before reaching my front door, I found her.

“……”

In front of the entrance to the next room, recessed like a dent, a black-haired girl was crouched down small, hugging her knees like an abandoned puppy.

Naturally, my feet stopped in front of her.

Even from her downcast face, I knew who it was.

The too-beautiful neighbor.

Her name was… I thought, but still couldn't remember.

I moved only my eyes to check the nameplate. There, in white letters, it read “Sajou.”

Sajou… Sajou… I’d probably forget it by tomorrow, but that was fine. I wouldn't forget her face, anyway.

Just next door. A neighbor whose face I just happened to know.

And that neighbor was sitting in front of her entrance, even though it was next door. Moreover, completely soaked. A strand of her uniquely wavy hair, droplets were falling from its tip onto her knees, drip, drip.

What's wrong? At first, I was just puzzled by the situation, but without even thinking deeply, I could guess. She probably forgot her key at home and couldn't get in.

Unfortunate on such a rainy day. Even I would want to hug my knees and lament.

Thinking, “I’m sorry for your trouble,” I started to move my feet again. I was about to unlock my own door when,

“…………”

I was overcome with an indescribable feeling and stopped the hand reaching for my bag.

It was like my heart was fluttering, or maybe this was what it meant to be tormented by a guilty conscience.

But, at the same time, I wondered why.

If there was someone in trouble, soaked in the rain and without a key, I would feel sorry for them, concerned, and sympathize. But I wouldn't go out of my way to get involved. Because they are a stranger.

Besides, I was afraid of being brushed off as being meddlesome.

And yet, now, I felt guilty about leaving Sajou-san behind. I felt a pull at my heartstrings.

Maybe it was because she was the only resident in the apartment building whose face I remembered.

Or maybe it was because her face was too beautiful. You might say, "In the end, it's about looks," but since I'd never spoken to her, my only criteria for judgment was appearance.

What am I even making excuses to myself for? I sighed inwardly.

I should probably say something, shouldn't I? But, talking to a girl is, you know. How is that even done?

And on top of that, the other person was a beauty who could make you forget to breathe just by looking at her.

Just talking to a woman was already a high hurdle, but with beauty added to the equation, it required a resolve akin to jumping off the Kiyomizu Stage.

Around and around, I spun in circles, worrying about various things, but in the end, I was just being timid, and it all came down to courage.

Since I had decided to speak to her anyway, I clenched my fist tightly, determined to try my best.

It’s not like me at all, though…

Thinking so, but at least wanting to offer her a towel, I took a step back towards her.

“Um… excuse me.”

“……”

Crap. I'm already about to give up.

Even after calling out to her, there was no reaction. Not even a reply, not even a twitch of a finger.

I was already regretting calling out to her, but once I had taken that first step, there was no going back.

Forcing strength into my twitching facial muscles, I somehow managed to plaster on a smile.

“Um, are you, like, locked out of your room because you don't have your key?”

“……”

Finally, the face that had been downcast slowly lifted.

Dark, stagnant, jet-black eyes. The wet hair clinging to her cheeks gave off a sensual allure that made my heart leap. My cheeks grew hot.

She was just too much of a beauty, dripping wet.

I pressed my hand hard over my shirt, over my chest where my heart was pounding from the inside, to maintain my composure.

Was she conscious or not? Her eyes, unfathomable, looked up at me.

“...I have it.”

What? For a moment, a question mark popped into my head, but I immediately realized it was a belated reply to my earlier question. Was she slow, or what?

“Oh, you, …do?”

Could it be bravado? I couldn't help but think. Because in reality, she wasn't able to get into her home.

But, looking more closely at Sajou-san… it was there. In her hand, a plain, inorganic silver key.

It was hard to discern because it was clenched in her hand, but the shape looked the same as my key. In other words, it should be her home key, no doubt.

Then, why wasn't she going in?

I opened my mouth to ask, but reconsidered and swallowed the words.

If she could get in but wasn't, there must be a reason, I figured.

I thought about asking with the unreservedness of a stranger, but I hesitated at the idea of a mere neighbor intruding.

I was curious. I was curious, but… I firmly suppressed that curiosity. On top of that, I thought about what to do next.

Offering her a towel and saying goodbye would be the most neighborly action without any lingering issues.

But, still.

Leaving a girl who might not know when she can get into her room, soaked in the rain, wasn't right.

Even though it was an auto-lock apartment building, there was no guarantee that strange people wouldn't be around.

I crossed my arms. Tilted my head. Held my head.

I used my brain so much it felt like my wet hair might dry, and then, yes. I put my hands together.

My thoughts were settled. All that was left was to confirm with Sajou-san.

But, that was the most courage-requiring thing, and I broke out in a cold sweat from nervousness. My heart was pounding painfully.

Inhale, exhale. Repeating deep breaths… I put on my best smile.

“If you don’t mind, um…”

My lips trembled. Almost biting my tongue, I somehow managed to propose.

“Would you like to come to my place?”

“…………”

The silence was agonizing…!

I felt like I was being mentally killed.

Was I looking like a wolf in sheep's clothing, trying to lure her into my room?

Of course, I swear to God, I had no intention of doing anything improper.

…But, objectively speaking, I was aware that it could look like I had obvious ulterior motives. So, I turned pale.

What if the police were called? Would I get arrested?

I didn't want to get an arrest record as a minor. Would they forgive me if I apologized now?

While I was thinking such things, her lips, which had been looking at me with vacant eyes, slightly parted.

What? I braced myself a little. But, she didn't say anything and tightly closed her lips again.

What’s it going to be…?

重ねる緊張に不安を戦々恐々窺っていると、再び顔を俯かせた鎖錠さんがポツリと呟つぶやいた。

“……どうでもいい”

This is permission, right?

I don't know. I don't know, but… it wasn't a rejection.

Then it’s a YES. Silence is also considered consent, and a grey answer is probably the same.

…Somehow, I felt like I was getting closer and closer to being a shady person trying to lure a girl into his room. My thought process was that of a criminal. However, I had no such intentions, so let's just assume it was my imagination.

“Then, shall we go?”

Just in case, I confirmed again.

To maintain the pretense that it was her will, and not forced, I didn’t forget to end with a question mark.

Weak-willed. I was worried if she would even come with me like this, but Sajou-san stood up, albeit unsteadily. Good. It seemed like she was willing to come.

From there, a few steps. Next door, in other words, to my place.

We arrived at the entrance, so I started searching for the key in my school bag. …Searching. Wait, huh?

Flustered, I frantically rummaged through my bag and somehow managed to grab the key.

Phew, I breathed out. A little embarrassing. Why does it always happen that I panic when I want to be smooth? Or rather, I should have just unlocked it earlier. I hated my own clumsiness.

Finally, I unlocked the door and opened it. I slipped inside as if sliding in, and held the door from the inside.

“U-um, p-, please come in?”

“...Excuse me.”

Sajou-san said quietly. Oh, she does do that properly.

I was surprised because I had thought she was consistently unfriendly. Maybe she was actually a good girl.

She casually took off her shoes and stepped onto the entrance mat with wet socks.

Eeeek. A voiceless cry escaped me at the indescribable squishy feeling of wet socks.

“Don’t worry about being wet, you can come in.”

Anyway, the entrance mat was already soaked by my feet. The hallway would be too, from now on.

Whether she acknowledged it or not.

Without any reaction, she took off her shoes and stepped inside. She followed, but… not exactly. She turned back and neatly arranged the shoes she had taken off. …Even mine.

She really is a good girl. On the other hand, I'm a bad boy.

I do usually tidy up my shoes, okay? Really! But, today I was flustered, or rather, I was just thinking about getting Sajou-san inside quickly, so. Ahem.

To gloss over the rising embarrassment, I urged Sajou-san to my room, saying, "This way."

It’s not luring her in, okay?

If I were to prepare such an excuse, maybe the living room would have been better…

But, the living room is not a place I can guide people to, so it couldn't be helped. (Hint: A man living alone).

The door right next to the entrance. The room I invited her into was reasonably tidy.

Old game consoles and manga were scattered around, but well, it was probably within acceptable limits.

However, it was the first time I had guided a girl into my room, so I was inexplicably nervous. There's nothing in here that would be embarrassing to see, right? Is the smell okay? If I get told it smells like squid, I'll never be able to talk to a girl again, ever?

“Just sit anywhere you like.”

 grabbed a fluffy cushion that was lying around and tossed it onto the floor.

Well, she probably won’t reply anyway. Without waiting for a response, I left Sajou-san alone in the room and dashed to the washroom.

I flung open the double doors of the cabinet and rummaged through it.

“Let’s see, a towel…” Wait, didn’t we have new ones? A new one, I need a new one… Used ones are a no-go.

I tossed the contents inside out onto the floor. If Mom saw this, she’d probably get mad, saying, “Cleaning up later is such a pain!” but luckily, I live alone now. No one’s here to scold me for making a mess.

Amidst the chaos of turning the washroom area’s floor into a toy box explosion, I somehow managed to find an unopened towel with a paper label that read “Gift.”

Was this something Mom got back when she subscribed to the newspaper? News is online now, I thought newspapers were unnecessary, but it’s unexpectedly come in handy. Thanks, newspaper. I still won’t subscribe though.

Ripping open the packaging with a beee-rip, I hurried back to my room.

Grasping the doorknob, I slowed my momentum and burst into the room like an avalanche.

“I brought a towel, so use i— wha—!?”

She was undressed.

Her hoodie. Her pants.

Ignoring the cushion I’d prepared, she had collapsed onto the bed.

In matching black lingerie. Top and bottom.

The contrast of the black lingerie against her pale white cleavage was, uh, quite something… but that’s not the point!

“W-w-why are you undressing!?”

“…Because I feel sticky and gross.”

Even so, would you normally undress?

Haa… So breasts don’t lose their shape even when you’re lying on your back. For a split second, a lewd thought intruded, but I quickly turned my back to her.

I covered my face.

I totally saw her naked… well, not naked, but close enough. I hate how a part of me feels like I’ve gained something.

Happy yet troubled. My heart was pounding like a drum, beating so loudly it was hard to breathe. But still, having a girl in my room in her underwear is more perplexing than lucky.

“No, but still, right? Undressing in a guy’s room like this, isn’t that…questionable?”

I wish she had a bit more modesty as a woman, you know? Having some shame is kind of hot, actually. What am I even saying?

I let out an indescribable sound and crouched down.

“Do as you like…”

Those unbelievable words reached my ears.

A voice tinged with resignation. My eyes widened, and I reflexively turned around, forgetting her state of undress.

She was sprawled on my bed in her underwear, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Her emotionless, dark eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“…Men are all the same, aren’t they?”

A self-destructive, completely resigned attitude.

As if she wouldn’t care what I did to her right here and now.

If I were to reach out and touch her moist skin with desire right now, she probably wouldn’t resist, and wouldn’t tell anyone no matter what happened.

I could give in to my surging desires and touch her body.

But, but, you see?

“—Don’t be ridiculous.”

Just because Sajou-san’s face is too good-looking. Refined, without any unnecessary features, and both beautiful and cool.

And on top of that, her body is voluptuous and feminine. If you asked if I wanted to touch her full, ripe breasts, I’d say I really want to.

But, but you know?

That doesn’t mean I’m so consumed by lust, so pathetic, that I’d take advantage of a girl who’s offering herself out of despair, not consent.

Seriously. I want to tell her not to underestimate me. I’m keeping quiet because I don’t want to add to the pain of a girl who’s already hurting so much she’s given up on herself.

I threw the towel I brought towards Sajou-san. It landed softly on her face with a whoosh.

Her face hidden by the towel, she mumbled, “…Ah.” as if understanding.

“…You don’t like being wet?”

“That’s not it!? I meant wipe yourself dry! There’s no other meaning to it, okay!?”

I mean, if I were really going to take advantage, whether she was wet or not wouldn’t ma— mumble mumble.

…………Never mind. Never mind, okay? Really, okay? Really, I’m not lying.

I banged my head against the wall near the door. Something bad almost slipped out. Reflection.

“Also, if you don’t mind, how about taking a shower?”

“……”

Silence. What’s with this pause?

“…Are you going to join me later?”

“So you don’t catch a cold!”

Seriously, what is with this girl?

She looks like a cool, detached girl, but is her mind secretly full of pink fantasies?

I watched Sajou-san, still with the towel draped over her head like a noren curtain, head towards the shower. I watched the sliding door to the changing room close with a thud, then,

“Haaaaaaah…”

I collapsed to my knees.

I felt as exhausted as if I’d just run a full sprint. My body felt weak.

Am I being tested? Is this a trial from God? I have no intention of becoming a priest, though?

Reason being chipped away at by a chainsaw.

Can I endure this? I don’t trust myself.

Two, three, five, seven, eleven, fifteen… Count prime numbers and calm down. Ah, five is divisible by five.

I sat on the bed, hands clasped together, staring into the void. I have to recover the reason that was chipped away by breasts before Sajou-san comes back.

“Mm.”

I heard the sound of the changing room door sliding open.

Footsteps approaching. I braced myself. It’s okay. With reason strengthened by prime numbers, I can withstand even a girl fresh out of the ba—

“...I’m back.”

When I looked up and said “Welcome back,” my reason died.

This time she wasn’t naked.

She was wearing sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie.

However, the zipper was stopped around her navel, leaving her ample breasts, threatening to spill out, completely exposed. Water droplets trickling down her cleavage were delivering a final kick to my already deceased reason.

“No… no, no, no!? Why is it like this!? I left a shirt out for you, right!?”

A brand new one.

Sajou-san stopped moving. Her expression didn’t change, but… was she troubled?

“I put it on, but…”

She moved her arms as if hugging herself, and her breasts jiggled with a fwoomph.

“…It didn’t fit.”

No way.

Shirts have a concept of fitting or not fitting? And it was men’s size? No way.

Unbelievable. My jaw dropped. This must be what they mean by "my mouth hung open."

“Th-then, you’re not zipping up because…?”

“…Because it won’t close.”

As she moved her arms to support her breasts, the zipper zzzzip slid down, revealing the underside of her breasts.

Seeing the white skin peeking out in a V-shape, I covered my face, thinking, Oh man, this is too much.

What kind of monster are you raising? The I-line cleavage is too visually toxic. At least try to hide it.

I didn’t know where to look, afraid of seeing something I shouldn't.

“What? Is this your kind of thing?”

“Absolutely not!?”

If it’s a choice between liking it or disliking it, I’d say I love it, but it’s absolutely not something I aimed for.

Please believe me, Your Honor! I am innocent!

As I vehemently asserted my innocence in the court of my mind, Sajou said, “Is that so,” indifferently, and sat down next to me. For a moment, the bed dipped.

…Why did she sit next to me?

There are chairs other than the bed, aren’t there? I even prepared a cushion. A fluffy one! It feels super nice to touch.

I couldn't settle down. Maybe it was because Sajou-san’s skin was flushed from just taking a bath, but I could feel a faint warmth radiating from her.

It felt like when a woman sits next to you on a nearly empty train. That feeling of wanting to move but hesitating, worrying about making her uncomfortable.

What should I do? Restlessly, I glanced at Sajou-san, and from the gap in her open hoodie and her skin, I almost caught a glimpse of the tip of her full breasts, maybe even something pinkish. I quickly faced forward and stiffened my neck. My face was hot even though I hadn’t taken a bath.

Seriously, what’s with this lack of defensiveness?

She usually seems to have her guard up so high, why is she so lax today?

Is this what they mean by taking advantage of someone’s weakness? No, no, no. I didn't aim for this, it’s just mens rea…! Wait? Does that mean I’m admitting to a crime?

My head was boiling and confused as I agonized.

My inner thoughts were a chaotic mess, a noisy jumble, but the room was silent.

Because Sajou-san just sat there blankly, not saying a word, I also had no choice but to shut my mouth.

Honestly, it was awkward. Even though it was my own room, I felt uncomfortable.

Should I escape to the living room? Is there any point in being together?

Her attire is too revealing, maybe it’s making it harder for her to relax and change (?).

No good. My mind feels like it's tangled up like yarn. My already not-so-great brain is getting even worse. Who are you calling stupid?

However, the idea of escaping wasn’t bad. If I ignored the absurdity of fleeing from my own room, it would benefit both of us.

Escape, then. Let’s escape.

And so, just as I was about to lift myself up, unable to bear the heavy atmosphere, I glanced at my side and froze in shock.

“…………”

Not saying a word.

Expression unchanged.

She was just silently shedding tears.

No hint of sadness, pain, or any negative emotion reached me.

Tears just spilled out.

Like a physiological phenomenon, without even a twitch of her eyebrows, small rivers flowed down her pale cheeks.

Why was she crying? How should I comfort her?

This was the first time I’d ever seen a woman cry, and I had no idea what to do.

Only meaningless sounds like “ah” and “eh” escaped my lips. My mind was like a canvas smeared with white paint, all white.

Even if I tried to think, the white paint kept smearing over, one layer after another, and my thoughts wouldn’t form.

I could only watch Sajou-san crying. And then, it got worse.

“…! Sajou-san!?”

“…!”

She hugged me.

Suddenly. Without any warning.

Without even looking at me, as if she was collapsing, she threw herself at me, wrapping her arms tightly around my back, trying to break my waist.

My stomach was compressed, and air escaped my mouth.

At the same time, the sensation of her heavy breasts pressing against my knee made the blood rush to my head.

Escape was no longer possible. I could only raise both hands, as if to prove my innocence to some unseen witness, “I’m not touching anything!”

But even that self-preservation could only last so long.

“…I’m different. I’m different, different, different…! I’m not like that woman…!”

She repeated “different, different” over and over.

Like a spoiled child, Sajou-san continued to deny something.

She was different from the apathetic, world-weary, and resigned girl from just moments ago. The way she clung to me was exactly like a small child, crying and wailing loudly.

What was she different from? Why was she crying? Why was she crouched in front of the door earlier?

The answer to those questions was likely in the key she was holding. Beyond that door.

I wanted to ask. What happened?

But, I had no right to ask.

“~~…! Ahhhhh! Guh, ah, ahhh… … , why, why, why do I have nothing…!”

She gripped my clothes so tightly they felt like they would tear. Unconsciously, her nails must have been digging in, as I felt a pain like my back was being scraped.

Even so, I remained silent, just waiting for her to calm down.

Because, I was just a neighbor, after all.

When I woke up the next morning, having somehow fallen asleep, I couldn’t honestly say I felt refreshed.

Apparently, I’d fallen asleep sitting up and then slumped onto the bed, so my body was stiff as a board and incredibly sore. Moving my neck sent satisfying cracking sounds to my ears. Even moving my arms felt like a chore, and I just wanted to stay collapsed as I was.

However, because I’d forgotten to close the curtains, the morning sun streaming in through the window wouldn’t allow me to sleep in. The glare of the sunlight, urging me to get up already, made me squeeze my eyes shut.

Reluctantly, I forced my body to get up, and pain shot through me everywhere. Especially my back, which felt raw and scraped.

“(Nubo—)”

…What happened yesterday?

The sunlit room was my usual room, unchanged. A normal, everyday scene.

However, my still-sleepy brain recognized the fact that something had happened.

“Ah, right. Let’s see…”

I pressed my thumb between my eyebrows. Trying to somehow recall the memories from before I fell asleep.

But, even after thinking for a while, the hazy memories wouldn’t become clear. Was it something trivial, or something so shocking I wanted to forget it?

“…Is this what a hungover morning feels like?”

Fifteen years old. Still too young to drink, and I could only imagine what it was like to drink enough to lose your memory. But, I definitely didn’t want to drink something that made you lose your memories every time. It's not like the police would deliver lost memories as lost property.

If I wash my face, maybe I’ll remember, I thought, getting to my feet. Then, a piece of memo paper on my desk caught the corner of my eye. Normally, I wouldn’t pay it any attention, but unfamiliar handwriting piqued my interest.

Scratching my bed-head hair, I approached the desk and picked up the memo paper.

My eyes were bleary, and my vision was hazy. I rubbed my eyes. Narrowing my eyes, I focused, and—a soft smile spread across my face, as if the tension had drained away.

“I won’t say thank you. But I will repay the favor.”

The hazy memories sharpened and vividly resurfaced.

Neat, careful handwriting. But the curt words, even though I didn't know Sajou-san well, somehow felt characteristic of her.

Did she get a little better? I hope so.

All I could do was wish. I can't fathom other people's hearts, and especially Sajou-san, she’s just a neighbor. Yesterday was the first time we even exchanged words, and I know nothing about her.

But, well.

Without really knowing why, my heart felt lighter.

Maybe it was because reaching out to her wasn’t meddling. Or maybe it was a kind of self-indulgent feeling that I might have been a little bit of help, but for now, I wanted to bask in this pleasant feeling.

I staggered backward, spread my arms wide, and boof landed back on the bed. Then, I sniffed and wrinkled my nose.

…A sweet scent.

Like flowers. Like candy.

However, the scent that stimulated my instincts made me cover my face and roll around on the bed. I might not be able to sleep today either.

As expected, I couldn’t sleep, and dragging heavy eyelids, I somehow made it to school.

At first, I tried not to care, but having someone else’s scent coming from my bed was just unsettling.

But, using deodorizing spray to get rid of it also felt like admitting I was bothered by it, so I resisted…

But, I was at my limit.

As soon as I sat in my seat, I buried my face in my bag as a pillow. And just like that, I drifted off. My consciousness, that is.

Good night, I said to myself in my mind, and thus, I fell asleep the moment I arrived at school.

…––

––… …?

A pitch-black world was swaying.

Even though it was all black, I definitely felt it swaying, a strange sensation.

An earthquake? I thought, but it seemed the swaying was coming from my own body. And I unconsciously realized that I wasn’t swaying actively, but being shaken by the shoulders.

Someone was trying to wake me up.

A classmate? A teacher? Who else… I couldn’t think of anyone else.

Well, whoever it was.

I was so sleepy from barely getting any sleep. I couldn't possibly focus in class. Today was designated for sleep learning. In fact, just making it to my seat was a feat.

So please, just let me sleep today.

Just as I was about to succumb to the sleepiness and fall into the world of peace—

“Wake up.”

—Thwack.

A strong impact struck my head. The sheer pain jolted me awake. Or rather, made my eyes fly open.

“Oww, that huuurts—!?”

What, what was that!? What happened!?

I clutched my head, the pain like being hit with a mallet. It hurt so bad. Tears welled up.

I was completely awake now, but the situation still made no sense.

Even if I was sleeping in class, was there anyone who would wake me up this violently?

“Ugh… who was that…”

I sniffled.

Just as I raised my face to glare resentfully at the perpetrator of this sudden act of violence, my eyes went wide. I forgot to breathe.

Could it be that I was still in a dream?

Blinking rapidly, I spoke to the dream resident.

“…Is it really okay to trespass on school grounds in cosplay?”

“If you’re still sleep-talking, want another one?”

The one who said that, staring at me with vacant eyes from the next seat, was the dream resident—Sajou-san.

And she was toying with something in her hand, a suspiciously thick Japanese dictionary… Wait, whaaaat.

“Could it be… that you hit me with that?”

“Because you wouldn’t wake up.”

Isn’t that awful?

“With the corner.”

“That’s practically attempted murder!?”

A Japanese dictionary is a weapon, you know!?

A bloody attempted murder incident. And the fact that the victim was me made me tremble uncontrollably.

In contrast, Sajou-san, who had tried to make my sleep eternal, indifferently just said, “Is that so,” and placed the dictionary on my desk. …And is this even mine? This weapon.

“No, but seriously, why?”

“This.”

Sajou-san held up something wrapped in plain cloth in one hand.

What is that?

Tilting my head, she lightly placed it in my hand. No, but seriously, what is it?

“Lunch.”

“Lunch…”

I see, I don’t understand.

I checked the simple wall clock behind Sajou-san. The time was exactly lunchtime.

Needless to say, it was lunchtime. In a way, it was the most appropriate item right now. …Appropriate, but I still don’t understand why Sajou-san is giving it to me.

As I tilted my head in confusion, Sajou-san, her cheeks slightly flushed, lowered her gaze.

“…I just don’t want to owe you a favor. Don’t misunderstand.”

Ah, I finally understood.

She was talking about the day before yesterday, when I let the rain-soaked Sajou-san rest at my house.

I don’t remember lending her anything, but well, that’s fine.

Whatever the reason, it’s a girl’s lunchbox. And if the girl is a beauty, then it’s even more delightful.

So, while I’ll gratefully accept it, there’s still one major question remaining.

“Why are you at school?”

“…Are you really not noticing?”

Huh? Noticing what?

Tilting my head, I was met with an exasperated sigh. Sajou-san tapped her desk with her fingertips, tap tap tap.

The desk was supposed to be empty. Belonging to a truant who hadn't shown their face since入学時— and as that thought formed, a lightning bolt of realization struck. Boom, crackle, flash.

Could it be…?

I looked at Sajou-san, and she placed a hand on her chest, which even wrapped in the uniform, still made a considerable claim.

“I’m Sajou Hitori. Nice to meet you, neighbor.”

That was it.

She really just said that and then left her seat. Striding out of the classroom.

Or so I thought, but then she exclaimed, “Ah,” and turned back.

“I’ll return your clothes when I get home.”

…I see now.

Sajou-san, saying her piece and then disappearing. I stared at the spot where she had been, nodding repeatedly.

My too-good-looking neighbor was actually my classmate, and our school desks were also next to each other, huh. Haa— this is educational.

But, it's not like I was taking it all in with total composure.

“Who was that beauty just now?” “Was that Sajou-san, maybe?” “What’s your relationship with Hinata?” “Did she only come to deliver lunch?” “Boobs are huge!” “She said she’d return clothes.” “She did say that, didn’t she?” “Eh, so does that mean…” “Are they dating?” “Are they living together—?”

A strange sweat broke out in the suddenly clamorous classroom. It was easy to imagine the uproar that was about to ensue, and I wanted to run away right now, but it was already too late for everything.

I guess it was my fault for falling asleep…

If I hadn’t, I could have been more careful not to be seen. But then again, the reason I was sleep-deprived was also because of Sajou-san, so maybe this outcome was inevitable. Not that I believe in fate.

While I was thinking about such things, a shadow like a black wave surged towards me, surrounding me.

Curious, curious, they murmured.

Forming a circle, overlapping layers. At the center of the thickening shadow, I thought, I wish I could wake up from this dream. But the lunchbox sitting squarely on my desk wasn't an illusion, and I could only slump my shoulders at the unavoidable reality.

I shoved a slightly burnt piece of tamagoyaki into my mouth and chewed it motcha motcha.

The only happiness left for me was to savor Sajou-san's handmade lunchbox.

“Hey hey, Hinata-kun. That was Sajou-san just now, right? What’s your relationship? Are you two, like, dating?”

Full of curiosity. My female classmate, eyes sparkling ran-ran, spoke to me. Her usually adorable face was plastered with the words ‘WHAT’S THE RELATIONSHIP!?’ in vulgar curiosity.

And it wasn't just her.

I was surrounded by onlookers, male and female alike.

A delicious-looking carrot topic had suddenly appeared, and everyone was breathing heavily through their noses. Honestly, it was scary.

In response, I desperately tried to signal, I’m eating, see? My mouth is moving, I can’t talk, see? My emotions were already blank. Not thinking about anything. Just moving my jaw relentlessly. I had no intention of giving these hungry onlookers the carrot from my own mouth.

However, it seemed my female classmates were the kind who would just heat up on their own, a troublesome bunch.

Their eyes sparkling like stars, the excitement of these lovestruck teenage girls just kept rising.

The unpopular guys harbored jealousy and envy in their eyes, directing a murky emotion towards me.

One small sound and an avalanche could occur.

However, it wasn't that everything would be safe if I did nothing.

The trigger for the balance to break could be anyone gathered around.

“Making lunch for you, that means you’re definitely dating, right?”

Once my female classmate took the lead like that, it was all downhill from there.

My classmates swarmed around me, heads poking out, pressing in.

“Hey! When did you get to know such a beauty!?”

“And even lunch… I’m so jealous~!”

“Sajou-san doesn’t even come to school.”

“Then, outside of school? Private then.”

“A pickup? Was it a pickup? Why didn’t you invite me?”

“Maybe a game center?”

“Was it like, you saved Sajou-san from being harassed by some thugs, and that was the start?”

“What is this, an eroge?” “Huh? Isn’t it the other way around?”

“True. Sajou-san doesn’t seem like she’d be bothered by thugs. So, Sajou-san saved Hinata-kun, who was cowering in fear from thugs instead.”

“And then, Sajou-san saw Hinata-kun being saved and fell in love at first sight, or something?”

“Kyaaaaaa!?!” “Unforgivableeeeee—!!”

I wish they wouldn’t get so worked up using me as entertainment.

Girls and guys. Two extremely polarized reactions.

More than anything, I was getting sick of these cliché love stories, 100% pure fantasy and not even close to the truth.

And, am I really the one who gets saved?

…Well, yeah. If you were to say which was more likely, it would probably be me getting saved. But I still wasn’t convinced.

They say rumors grow wings, but I never thought I’d witness wings and fins sprouting right before my eyes. At this rate, it felt like the fish would evolve into a dragon.

But, if I were to butt in and say it was all baseless, it was clearer than day that they would breathlessly press, “Then, what really happened!?”

There’s no way I could say I let Sajou-san stay over at my place the day before yesterday… In the end, I could only keep my mouth shut.

“How far have you two gone?”

The same female classmate who took the lead earlier. Her question, assuming we were dating, was concerning.

“Have you held hands?”

“What about kisses~?”

“Or… even further?”

“Hey, have you felt them? Have you felt those obviously dangerous boobs!?”

“Ugh… You’re too eager. Guys are the worst.”

“No, that’s not it…! It’s just for fact-checking, you know…!?”

Please don’t seek my agreement.

“Well, I get why you’d be curious, though~”

“They’re big even from a girl’s perspective.”

“Amazing, right?” “Yeah, amazing.”

“I want to feel them too.”

“So, as expected…”

“He felt them?” “He must have felt them.” “There’s no way he didn’t.”

Yeah, yeah, the guys were crossing their arms and nodding emphatically.

Among them, one with glasses, lenses flashing, muttered under his breath.

“…Maybe he’s sandwiched them?”

“Sand…wiched!?”

A shock ran through me as if electrocuted.

“No way.” “Is that even possible?” “That’s just fiction, right?” “But with those…” “Would you get buried?”

They were huddled together whispering, but their voices were completely audible.

They didn’t realize that the girls were giving these men, seriously discussing lewd fantasies, scathing looks.

But, maybe they were curious too. My female classmate whispered in my ear.

“So, did you get them sandwiched?”

“Can you guys stop talking about perverted stuff while I’m eating?”

I haven’t felt them, sandwiched them, or anything.

And, do they really think I’d answer even if they asked a girl? I wouldn't answer even if it was a guy asking, but I wish they’d have a little more maidenly modesty.

Haa, a sigh escaped me.

I was completely exhausted already. I didn’t want to be the plaything of my classmates any longer, but unfortunately, it seemed I wasn’t given veto power.

Even in modern times, overflowing with various entertainments, it seemed romantic relationships were still what stirred the curiosity of young men and women the most.

Sajou-san and I weren’t lovers, just neighbors in the same apartment building.

However, to my classmates, who only saw the fact that she delivered lunch, it must have looked like a romantic relationship.

If I were in their position, I’d probably think the same.

It can’t be helped. But, as the person involved, I wanted to tell them to be a little more level-headed.

As I was getting sick of the situation where something was being chipped away at even as I was eating lunch, this time, the guy in the group of male students who had lost in rock-paper-scissors and was groaning, called out, “Hey.”

What do you want, you bastard? I glared at him with cold eyes, but he was probably too focused on his question to notice my mood plummeting, as he whispered. The sound of the guys collectively holding their breath overlapped.

“Did you have se*?”

“I’m going to get angry soon, you know?”

If they want to get excited about vulgar talk, I wish they wouldn’t drag me into it.

I understand that guys love dirty jokes, but there were girls around, and it wasn't content that should be discussed while attracting the attention of the whole classroom. Or rather, even if we were in that kind of relationship, who would tell such private things to just classmates?

“Ugh, you guys are so noisy, scatter, scatter, you busybodies.”

“Ehh~” “Cheapskate~” “Coward~” “Traitor~”

Seriously, my classmates are the worst.

Mainly the guys, but the girls weren't much different either.

When I waved them away with a shoo shoo, they grumbled complaints but still moved away.

They’d given up. Or rather, it was probably because lunchtime was almost over and they needed to eat their own lunch soon.

The classmates who had been gathered around me until just now started pushing their desks together and spreading out their lunchboxes and snacks. But, it seemed my topic of conversation continued, as they were still looking over here, gossiping and spreading rumors. These teenagers, honestly.

“Seriously…”

I ate the grilled octopus with somewhat rough movements. …Why is it real octopus instead of octopus-shaped sausage? Is it her favorite?

Very mysterious. But well, it’s delicious, so whatever. In the first place, I wouldn’t, and couldn't, complain about something I received out of kindness.

But really, what kind of relationship are we, they ask…

Honestly, I can only answer, neighbors. In a double sense.

The day before yesterday, I lent her my roof for a little while. It was a special, memorable event that deviated from everyday life, but that’s all. That’s all that happened.

I don’t want to owe you a favor. Just as Sajou-san said, it should be nothing more and nothing less than that.

Besides, a debt of just letting her take shelter from the rain once is more than sufficiently repaid with this lunchbox. If anything, it’s too much.

Therefore, my relationship with her is unchanged.

Just neighbors. A relationship where we pass each other and I’m ignored if I say hello. A little sad.

Well, even if I listed out the facts, my classmates probably wouldn’t be convinced.

A mere neighbor makes you lunch? No way. Therefore, it must be love, they’re bound to connect it that way. Even if I honestly answered that we weren’t dating, they’d definitely start meddling, saying, ‘Then confess! We’ll support you!’

With meddling plastered on their faces, while fueling the fire called curiosity with firewood.

In the end, they just want to have an amusing story, and for them, the truth is just a trivial matter.

Being turned into gossip fodder was unbearable.

So, the better option here is to remain silent and wait for it to die down naturally. High school students' interests are fickle.

If there’s another topic more interesting than me, they’re sure to fly away without a second thought, like bees swarming around flowers.

…But, if you ask if a topic more interesting than me will arise, I have no choice but to clam up. Wouldn’t someone confess under the legendary cherry tree? Though there’s no such thing as a legendary cherry tree.

“Hinata-kun. Do you use adult toys?”

Shut up, okay?

I endured the public display time called lunchtime like a stone statue. And the moment after school ended, I bolted out of the classroom and outran the busybodies.

I thought I heard something shouting behind me, but it must have been my imagination.

I’m really tired today…

Following yesterday, my fatigue still hadn’t lifted, and problems were just chaining together. I hoped nothing more would happen. Both my mind and body were in Rihito-kun is tired mode.

“I just want to go home and sleep…”

Past mid-June, the days were only getting longer. It was still bright, too early to sleep, but I was confident I’d fall asleep the instant I collapsed onto the bed.

But well, it was about time I changed my bed sheets. Otherwise, I’d end up sleep-deprived again.

The rainy season had only just begun. Though it wasn’t raining, the azure sky was hidden behind thick clouds. No sunlight, making for pleasant weather. But, the humidity was high, and the sticky air clung to me, draining my energy even just walking home from school.

Somehow, I managed to see my apartment building.

Though tired, I quickened my pace, single-mindedly wanting to get home quickly. Straight to the entrance.

In front of the auto-lock door, I plunged my hand into the school bag slung over my shoulder, searching for my house key.

It should be in the same place as yesterday. I was groping around without looking inside when the glass door opened automatically.

It seemed someone was coming from the other side.

Nice timing. I pulled my hand out of my bag and, thinking piggyback, piggyback, raised my face to go through the opened door. And then, seeing the woman walking towards me, my eyes widened.

Sajou-san…?

Squinting, I couldn’t help but stare intently.

She looked very similar. So much so that I could mistake her for the real Sajou-san.

However, I quickly realized it was someone else.

The naturally beautiful, makeup-free Sajou-san.

This woman was the complete opposite, her face meticulously adorned with makeup. Wet, red rouge lips that were sexy. The perfume, sharply stimulating my nostrils, was also wafting strongly enough to make me frown.

Unlike Sajou-san, whose hair reached her shoulders, this woman had lustrous black hair that stretched down to her waist.

But, what made me decide she was someone else more than anything was her expression.

Her cheeks lifted, her radiant smile was nothing like Sajou-san.

In stark contrast to the indifferent Sajou-san, this woman consciously seduced and charmed men. An indescribably bewitching atmosphere was overflowing from her.

“Hello.”

“…Hello.”

As we passed each other, she gave me a glossy smile.

It wasn’t that I was captivated, but I just couldn't take my eyes off her. I gave a small nod and watched the woman, heels clicking, walk away.

I stopped walking. Turned back. Just kept staring at her retreating back.

“Mother…?”

The words that spilled from my own mouth felt strange, but somehow, I had that feeling.

Not an older sister or younger sister… I think. Too young to be a mother, but that allure didn’t seem like something a girl of age could exude.

In my mind, I compared Sajou-san and the woman who had just left.

Identical appearances. But, makeup, expression, atmosphere, everything was the complete opposite between the two.

They looked exactly like twins, but I felt a small surprise at how different their paths were.

Somehow, I thought they wouldn’t get along. No basis for it. Just a vague feeling.

Perhaps, I wondered.

The reason Sajou-san didn’t want to go home that day, even when soaked in the rain, might have been because of this woman.

Of course, this also had no basis. Just a string of baseless guesses.

“Well, whatever.”

It’s not my problem.

Cutting off my thoughts, I walked through the entrance. I then got into the elevator waiting on the first floor, and finally arrived home, but,

“……”

…She’s here.

A girl hugging her knees, crouching in front of my front door.

A scene with a sense of déjà vu.

The difference was, it wasn’t in front of the next-door apartment, but in front of my front door.

What is going on? My bag almost slipped off my shoulder.

As I stood there dumbfounded, unable to fully grasp the situation, Sajou-san, who had been looking down, raised her face.

Our eyes met. And then, I thought her dark, vacant eyes softened ever so slightly. I felt a sense of shame at that thought.

Was she happy that I came home? I’m being way too conceited.

As I was falling into self-loathing, Sajou-san parted her thin lips slightly and said in a clear voice.

“…Welcome home.”

“I’m, …home?”

I replied reflexively, and she scoffed, “Why the question mark?”

It was a welcome home greeting I hadn’t heard in a long time. And somehow, the one saying it was my neighbor.

And somehow, she was in front of my front door.

“Here.”

Still hugging her knees, she held out a shopping bag, the kind you get from clothing stores.

Oh, thank you. I took it and opened the bag, and inside were the hoodie and sweatpants I’d lent her the day before yesterday.

“I washed them and ironed them.”

“…You didn’t have to go to all that trouble. You could have just returned them as they were.”

I felt sorry for putting her to the effort.

When I said that, for some reason, she gave me a look as if I were trash.

“Gross… What? You have that kind of fetish?”

“Huh?”

For a moment, I didn’t understand the meaning. I was just dumbfounded.

Gross? What’s with the sudden insult? I was hurt, you know, I thought, but then, “…Ah,” I quickly understood the meaning of Sajou-san’s words, and the blood drained from my face.

“Wait a minute!? You’re misunderstanding something weird, right!?”

She thought I was a pervert who was trying to collect a woman’s worn clothes without washing them. Oh, no.

No, no, no! I waved my hands emphatically in denial, but the effect wasn't good. The more strongly I denied it, the thinner and sharper her eyes became, making my blood run cold.

Absolutely not.

It’s true, I did think, This is what Sajou-san wore the day before yesterday, and Even though they’re washed, wearing these clothes now, I still feel a bit… but—

“—I wouldn’t sniff them or anything!”

I declared.

However, Sajou-san covered the upper half of her face with shadow, as if looking at a hopeless piece of garbage, and glared at me with contemptuous eyes, “...Pervert.” Huh? Did I respond wrong somehow?

Explaining yourself is hard. No wonder wrongful convictions never disappear from this world.

Whether the pervert label was a misunderstanding or not. I could no longer bear those eyes that looked at me like I was filth, so I quickly turned my face away.

Ahem, I cleared my throat.

The gaze, piercing like thorns, remained the same, but I forcibly changed the subject.

What’s important in situations like this is to change direction, no matter how blatant it is. Pretend the inconvenient topic never happened.

“Thanks for the lunchbox. It was delicious.”

I gave a hehe smile, feeling it twitch a little, and expressed my thanks. The contemptuous gaze softened slightly.

She twirled a strand of her characteristic black hair around her finger, playing with it.

“…I don’t need flattery. Stop it. I know it wasn’t made well.”

She said sulkily.

Well, yeah, admittedly. The tamagoyaki was burnt, and I was surprised to find grilled octopus instead of sausage in it, even before considering whether it was well-made or not.

“It was delicious, though?”

I even wanted her to make it for me every day. When I honestly said that, her eyes narrowed sharply.

“What’s with that? A proposal? You can say something like that to a woman you just met. Are you some kind of playboy?”

“N-no, that’s not…!?”

Realizing my slip of the tongue, I hurriedly corrected myself.

“That’s not what I meant! Sorry, I chose the wrong words. Please don’t get the wrong idea, that harsh look in your eyes hurts, you know…! My mental state is breaking down~!”

Even without thinking too hard, it was a line that could easily be taken as a confession.

Terrible. I thought so myself. A mistake leading to a mistake, it’s a disaster. I wanted to cover my mouth, which only said unnecessary things, with a mask with a big X drawn on it.

A clammy sweat oozed onto my back. I wanted to escape into my apartment, but right now, the entrance to my apartment was blocked by Sajou-san, still crouching there. No escape.

“By the way,”

I forcefully turned the steering wheel. Second direction change.

And, I remembered something I was curious about, so it was perfect timing.

“Why was there octopus in it?”

“Why…?”

The side dish choice that had puzzled me since I opened the lunchbox.

I asked, but Sajou-san tilted her head, as if not even understanding the meaning of the question itself.

Ah, cute.

A little different from ‘mature.’ I was thrilled by Sajou-san’s childlike gesture, which gave off a dangerous, world-weary impression. That childlike gesture women sometimes show… it just, hits you right in the heart.

“…Octopus is a standard lunchbox item, right?”

“No, that’s…”

Her reaction was a bit strange. She didn’t seem to be joking either.

Could it be? As a certain suspicion surfaced, it became difficult to point out. But still, …huh?

Should I say it or not? As I pondered, stroking my cheek, Sajou-san, furrowing her brow, urged me, “What? If you have something to say, just say it clearly.” So, well, I gave up on hesitating.

“Um, well, octopus is octopus, but it’s usually octopus-shaped sausage, and you don’t really put real octopus in a lunchbox, do you think?”

And grilled octopus at that. I’d never seen or heard of it. Is it something for sake? It was delicious, though.

My too-direct question seemed to have conveyed my point too well. Sajou-san’s face flushed red as if a fire had been lit.

Uncharacteristically flustered, she tried to lean back, as if recoiling. But, behind her was the wall that was the front door. Unable to retreat, Sajou-san turned her face sideways, trying to escape my gaze even a little.

“N-no, that’s…! I didn’t know, okay. I don’t usually make lunchboxes, and I did think it was weird, but I just thought that’s how it was… Besides, octopus is… ~~ never mind!”

Perhaps she became even more embarrassed by making excuses, her pale face ripened like a red fruit.

She hid her face inside her hugged knees. It seemed she couldn’t bear the shame.

Innocent… or rather, a little out of touch with common sense, maybe?

It’s like she’s getting information from the internet or books without real-world experience, a disconnect like a sheltered young lady.

Whether octopus-shaped sausage is common knowledge or not is debatable, though. No, I don’t want to have such a pointless debate, okay?

“Yeah, but I think grilled octopus is fine. It was delicious, and it’s cooked through, so it’s suitable for lunchboxes, I think? It could become a new standard lunchbox side dish to replace octopus-shaped sausage!”

“…Are you making fun of me? You’re the worst.”

Communication is difficult.

As I was wondering what to do about Sajou-san, who had closed up like a clam and was looking down, an old lady passed by in the apartment hallway and greeted, “Hello.”

“H-hello.”

An encounter at a bad time. A little flustered, I returned the greeting, and she chuckled.

Somehow, I felt inexplicably embarrassed.

It seemed Sajou-san felt the same way, as her shoulders were trembling. The nape of her neck, peeking out from the gap in her black hair, was red.

“…”

“…Ah, right?”

Awkward.

Shame and tension were raising my body temperature. Once silence falls, it takes courage to break the ice again. I searched for a convenient topic to talk about. Maybe the classic and strongest weather deck? It’s cloudy, isn’t it. Haha… but that conversation would not only not expand, but might even be taken as an allegory for the heavy atmosphere.

Trying to mend this atmosphere, I quickly conveyed the errand I’d somehow remembered.

“I’ll wash and return the lunchbox next time…!”

“…Don’t bother with unnecessary courtesies.”

She refused. Why?

She extended the hand that had been hugging her knees. Her palm was facing upwards. It seemed she was saying, Hand over the lunchbox.

“But still, you know? It feels wrong to have you make lunch for me and then leave the washing up to you.”

“…Mm.”

Silent pressure. Her fingertips flicked slightly.

Haa, I sighed. It was unbearable, but being stubborn would only cause more trouble.

I took out the drawstring bag containing the lunchbox from my school bag and gently placed it on her palm.

Then, Sajou-san grasped the drawstring bag with both hands and shook it lightly up and down. A light, empty sound karan rang out.

The girl who had been hugging her knees, expressionless, slightly softened her cheeks with a smile.

“––”

For a moment, I was captivated by that expression.

A face that combined ephemeralness and beauty, like a flower at the peak of its bloom, just before scattering. My heart was squeezed. There’s such a phrase, but I never thought it would actually be accompanied by physical pain.

But, that was just a blink of an eye.

As if it had been an illusion, the smile disappeared from her face.

The shadow that symbolized the dark, stagnant Sajou-san, who had given up on everything, was plastered back on her face.

“My business is done, then.”

As she said, it seemed her only business really was this.

Sajou-san, who had been as unmoving as a sulking child, stood up as easily as if the stake that had been binding her had been pulled out.

And then, as she was about to pass by me, she stopped walking.

“…I’ll bring it again tomorrow. Whether you wait for me or not, either is fine, though.”

That was it.

Sajou-san said her piece and disappeared into the next-door apartment.

Blankly. I was dumbfounded for a while, then, after she left, I snapped back to reality.

Finally understanding Sajou-san’s words, my voice trembled with surprise.

“…Eh? She’s bringing lunch again tomorrow?”

Deliberately? To the classroom during lunchtime? Sajou-san, who doesn’t even come to school?

Why? Yes, throwing out that question was far too late.

Of course, it didn’t reach Sajou-san.

Sajou-san, with dead eyes, handed me the lunchbox again, and it was lunchtime once more.

“Here.”

I accepted the drawstring bag handed to me. I gritted my teeth, force gathering between my brows. I was happy, but an indescribable feeling was stuck in my throat.

A week had passed since I started receiving lunchboxes from Sajou-san.

However, even though the number of times had increased, it wasn’t like I’d gotten used to receiving them.

Sajou-san deliberately appearing in the classroom only during lunchtime, handing me a lunchbox, and then leaving, was probably conspicuously strange. Curious gazes piercing me from all around. Whispered conversations. Jealousy accompanied by teeth-grinding.

This major event in high school life, receiving lunch from a girl, was too much of a mental burden for me, who had never had any connection with women until now.

I felt like I was being crushed by the guilt of receiving it one-sidedly, and the tension of gathering the attention of the entire classroom.

I thought I’d refuse it from the second time onwards, but…

Only the feeling of unease preceded everything, and each time I received it, I thought, This will be the last time.

However, in the curt exchange of just receiving the lunchbox, delivered emotionlessly and mechanically, there was no room for me to interject a gentle refusal, saying, ‘You don’t have to make lunch anymore, you know?’ It was so seamless, like a delivery guy handing over a package and then hurrying away.

“Seriously, you bringing it over every single time feels kinda bad, you know? At least let me grab it in the morning, yeah?”

‘At least’ is the operative word here, really.

It was a tiny little pushback, a way to try and lighten the load on her conscience, even if just by a hair.

If she went for it, then bam, no more guilt tripping myself about making her trek all the way over just to drop off my lunch. Bonus points: maybe the whole class staring-daggers thing would chill out too.

Sounded like a win-win, right? Scratch that, win-win-WIN. Pure upside all around.

But, nope. Sajo-san, already sporting a pretty gloomy face to begin with, just piled on the shadows, oozing even more of that ‘leave-me-alone’ vibe. The sheer negativity radiating off her made me tense up like a guitar string.

“...Mornings… are…”

Her voice was like sandpaper on dry wood, scraping out each word like it physically hurt. And then… just trailed off. She clutched her blouse right over her chest, bunching it up in her fist. You could practically see the struggle in those wrinkles.

“…Oh. Right, yeah. Guess I’m sticking my nose in where it doesn’t belong, huh?”

Felt like I’d poked at a wound that was still raw, skin not even trying to scab over yet. Majorly awkward vibes. Duh, of course something’s up.

Seriously though, with all this heavy air, it couldn’t just be something lame like, ‘Ugh, mornings are the worst.’ Though, a peek at grumpy morning-hair Sajo-san… yeah, okay, that’d be kinda interesting.

“If that’s all you got, I’m heading home.”

Conversation over. Just like always, spin on her heel and… gone.

All you got from her back was this total ‘don’t-care-about-anything-outside-my-bubble’ thing.

She could pull the weirdest stunts, totally out of left field, and still just stroll on like it was Tuesday because she couldn’t give a rat’s behind what anyone thought.

Not just everyone else, but even herself… just, meh.

Felt like her heart was just ticking over, and she was just going through the motions to stay alive because, well, what else is there?

Probably not too far off the mark, that guess.

Which then begs the question: is this lunch thing I’m holding, like, Sajo-san’s survival rations or something?

She says she hates owing people. Maybe it’s her own weird defense mechanism, trying to build walls so no one gets close.

Pay up, wipe the slate clean.

Except, that doesn’t quite explain the whole picture here, does it?

If it’s supposed to be even-steven, then buddy, I’m already drowning in debt here. The scales are tipped way, way over.

One measly rain-check day doesn't even come close to a week’s worth of homemade lunches. Not in this universe.

Unless…

For Sajo-san, was that day, that moment in the rain, worth all this? Worth the whole learning-to-make-lunch thing, the daily delivery runs? Seriously, that valuable?

Beats me. Stuck in my own head, guessing and second-guessing, spinning my wheels, and still nowhere near an answer.

But hey, even clueless me can nail down one solid fact.

“Hey, so you and Sajo-san, like, for real not dating?”

“Nope.”

Nope, we are not.

■■

Living off the folks’ cash, that’s the student life, right? Rent, food, the occasional splurge – all from the parental ATM.

Spend too much, allowance shrinks. Tighten the belt, maybe even see a little bonus.

So, yeah, trying to pad the wallet a bit for some fun money? Textbook college student move.

Which is why, most days, you’d find me hitting up the supermarket right before closing, hunting for those sweet, sweet discount stickers on the bento boxes. Dinner ends up being a bit on the late side, sure… but half price? Come on, man, half price.

Standing under those blinding fluorescent lights, felt like you could lose track of time, day and night blurring together.

Inside was bright as midday, but yeah, being so close to closing, the crowds were thin. Except, of course, for that cluster. A little gaggle of hawk-eyed aunties swarming the apron-clad clerk slapping on those discount stickers. That corner of the store? Population boom.

For a hot second, I thought about diving into the fray myself, muscles twitching to join the sticker-hunt. Nah, changed my mind quick.

The lure of deeper discounts was strong, no doubt, but… night was getting on.

Push dinner back any later, and I’d be a zombie come morning.

Resisted the urge to linger, and instead, aimed for the bento section, heels clicking on the shiny, polished floor.

And then –

““Ah.””

One word, one sound, perfectly synced.

Like looking in a mirror, mouth slightly rounded in an “ah,” staring right back at me – Sajo-san.

Shopping basket hooked over one arm, other hand mid-grab for a pack of sausages.

Peeking into the basket: chicken, eggs, tomatoes… Uh oh.

This was… could it be?

“Lunch ingredients…?”

My question, popping out before I could stop it, made the corners of Sajo-san’s lips twitch down, just a hair. Was she scrambling for an excuse? Lips clamped shut, not a peep. But then, after a beat, the words finally trickled out:

“…Yeah, but.”

A reluctant ‘fess up. Sounded like she’d thrown in the towel.

Felt like I’d just barged in on something private, a bit… awkward. Like walking in on a crane mid-weave. Yeah, that kind of ‘oops, shouldn’t-have-seen-that’ vibe.

Her face was still its usual blank canvas, but Sajo-san’s eyes were doing a little dance, betraying her confusion. Maybe ‘cause her face is usually so still, like a pond on a windless day, even the tiniest ripple of feeling stood out a mile away.

Maybe just pretend I saw nothing, make a quick escape?

Thought about doing a 180, but then… bam, it hit me. “Ah!” Another surprised “ah,” this time with a side of face-paleness.

“Ingredient… costs…”

Sajo-san’s shoulders gave a teeny jump.

Brain fart, major brain fart. Totally spaced it.

Duh, stuff doesn’t just materialize out of thin air, and geese don't lay golden eggs (unless you’re in a fairy tale, maybe).

So, yeah, Sajo-san doing a grocery run like this? Totally normal. Costs money? Duh, of course it does.

Major facepalm moment. Slapped a hand over my mouth. Ugh, how dumb can I be?

“Who cares?”

Sajo-san didn't even bat an eye. Actually, she seemed more focused on that two-pack of sausages, waffling about putting it back or keeping it.

But still, man.

She might not care, but I care. Big time.

So, yeah, maybe a little forcefully, I snagged the shopping basket right out of Sajo-san’s hands.

“…, …Hey!?”

Sajo-san went rigid for a split second, like a statue.

Then, boom, she was glaring daggers, like a cornered cat ready to pounce. Those eyes narrowed to slits, sharp enough to cut glass. Yeah, kinda intimidating, but still, I hugged that shopping basket close, like my precious. No backing down now.

“It’s for lunch stuff, right? Then it’s only fair I pay for it.”

“…No. Stop.”

Kinda figured she’d say something like that.

‘I’m doing it because I wanna. Butt out.’ Just looking at those furrowed brows, the message was crystal clear, even without words. Tricky girl to figure out, but then, kinda easy too. Definitely a handful.

“Nope.”

I grabbed the sausages and chucked them into the basket I’d just hijacked.

Yeah, not really my style, pulling this kind of assertive move. But no way was I gonna chicken out now.

I’m standing my ground, I shot back with my own glare. Sajo-san’s eyes narrowed even more, practically laser beams. To Sajo-san, radiating pure prickly annoyance, I said:

“Look, totally my bad for not even thinking about the ingredients. But this is making me feel even more in debt. If we’re playing the debt-and-favor game, at least let me do this, okay?”

“… …”

Sajo-san clammed up.

Brows furrowed deeper, eyes sharpening like razors.

We locked eyes for a good long stare-down, but then Sajo-san finally sighed, like she was throwing in the towel. Guess she figured I wasn’t budging, pointless to argue.

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

Dismissive, yeah.

But Sajo-san caved. Score one for me. Pumped a silent fist in the air.

Still radiating major grumps, she stomped off in long strides. I hurried to catch up.

“From now on, I’m buying the ingredients, got it? Oh, and we gotta settle up for what you’ve already spent too.”

“…Forgot.”

“Seriously? Come on!”

I called her out, and she puffed out her cheeks, turned her head away with a huff.

All sulky-kid vibes. Yeah, shouldn’t laugh, but… couldn’t help it. A chuckle slipped out. Which, naturally, just cranked up the grumpiness dial, made her dig her heels in even more. Kinda cute, in a weird way. Couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face, and… thwack. Shin-kick. Okay, okay, love tap, got it.

…So, yeah.

If it had ended there, I could’ve cruised home still buzzing from the good mood vibes.

“…What… is that bento?”

“…Uh, dinner?”

Ice-cold voice, sending shivers down my spine. This time, I was the one who couldn't meet her eyes, dodging her stare.

Bento section. And yeah, in my basket, nestled amongst the groceries, was that half-price kalbi-don.

Not doing anything wrong. Not wrong, exactly… but felt like Mom was giving me the ‘disappointed parent’ glare, making me squirm in my skin. Major cringe-factor.

…Hey, kalbi-don is delicious, okay? Especially that sauce.

Yeah, try telling Mother Sajo-san that. Not gonna fly. And guess she figured it was my call, not hers, to take it back.

So, yeah, stood there, pinned under that arctic gaze, until we hit the checkout. Stomach growling, but not from hunger. More like… guilt-growls.

■■

Went to the store solo. Coming back, two of us.

Same building, same way home, naturally. Shoulder-to-shoulder walk back.

Streetlights blinking, barely lighting up the narrow residential street.

Saw her shifting the grocery bag, offered to help. “Want me to take that?” Got the full-force emotionless black-eye treatment.

Still sulking from earlier, huh? Dejected sigh from me, then, bam, she shoves the bag at me, no words. Surprise-blink, and she’s already darting ahead, putting some space between us.

Ten feet, maybe? Embarrassed? Who knows.

Hoisted the bag, felt the weight. Okay, maybe she is relying on me a little bit. Gonna go with that interpretation. Better for the mental health, right?

…Probably just couldn’t be bothered carrying it herself. Truth? Nah, truth ruins everything.

Thin clouds smeared across a pitch-black sky. Quiet settled over the asphalt path. Walked on in silence, not a word between us. Next thing I knew, we were at the building.

Hit the auto-lock at the entrance, hopped in the elevator together.

Same floor. I staked out button duty, Sajo-san leaned against the back wall. Just watched the red digital floor numbers tick up, kinda zoning out, until ding, we hit our floor.

RPG style, single file, we stepped out.

Apartment hallways aren’t exactly sprawling. Ten steps tops, and we were at Sajo-san’s door.

“Later.”

Said a quick goodbye, hand outstretched to give her back the bag… but then.

Sajo-san’s vibe was… off.

Frozen solid in front of her door, like a statue.

Side view of her face? Pure disgust, hatred practically radiating off her. But then, her face was deathly pale, like she was spooked by something.

Supermarket to here? Yeah, grumpy, but nothing like this level of hate-face. Something flipped the switch the second we hit her doorstep. Getting out of the elevator, me walking ahead just for a few steps, back turned… and bam, total personality shift. Like a switch flipped.

What’s at the door…?

Some kind of marker? Something that just seeing it could trigger a reaction this intense in Sajo-san?

Stepped around her, peered at the door. And yeah, there it was.

Little pouch dangling from the doorknob.

Scanned around for anything else weird, nada. Looked pretty much like my own front door, nothing special.

So, that little pouch was the trigger for Sajo-san’s meltdown.

“…!”

Sajo-san flinched, a tiny whimper, and grabbed her own arm, tight.

Fist clenched so hard, fabric crinkled deep, veins popping on the back of her hand.

Her eyes, twisted with loathing and pain, were back to that vacant, hollow look from the rainy day, the ‘give-up-on-everything’ eyes.

Shoulders shaking. Looked like a stray, half-dead cat, abandoned and shivering.

“…Ah, crap.”

Scratched my head again. Ugh, what to say?

Never took a class on ‘What to Do When Your Neighbor Has a Door-Pouch-Induced Meltdown.’ Comforting words? Act like nothing’s happening? Beats me.

But, words or no words, knew what I had to do.

‘Cause, no way could I just pretend I didn’t see this. Anyone with half a brain could guess where a dying stray cat ends up if you leave it out in the cold.

Sajo-san right now? Just looked way too fragile.

Sympathy? Yeah, maybe. Fake virtue signaling? Probably a bit of that too.

Not really my style, playing knight-in-shining-armor. But still, better than doing nothing. ‘Cause, yeah, if I just bailed and something went sideways with Sajo-san, guaranteed I’d be kicking myself later.

Self-preservation in disguise, really. Backwards logic, sure. But hey, whatever works. Cleared my throat, forced a loud, cheerful voice.

“Sajo-san!”

“… …”

Silence. Still hunched over, just trembling. Cold vibes radiating off her.

Déjà vu, anyone? Just like that day in the rain. Difference? This is round two. And, hey, Sajo-san and I are practically supermarket-buddy level now.

“Um, so…”

Words stuck in my throat. Grit my teeth, pushed them out, aimed them straight at her.

“—Hey, wanna… crash at my place?”

■■

Okay, so.

“…What… is this?”

“Sorry, sorry, so sorry!”

Invited her over without a second thought, brain totally short-circuiting, and bam, face-to-face with a problem I’d completely buried under layers of ‘ignore-it-and-it’ll-go-away.’

Facepalm, hard. Wanted to burrow into the floor, vanish.

But nope, no such luck. Sajo-san next to me, sporting a full-on ‘are-you-kidding-me’ grimace, wasn’t letting that happen.

“…Filthy. Seriously, does a person actually live here?”

Brutal words. Not even trying to be mean, just… pure, unadulterated observation. And yeah, they hit home, hard. Like a gut punch of truth.

Shame and awkwardness choked me up, couldn’t even squeak out a syllable.

Reason for the verbal beatdown? Well, short story: pigsty. My apartment was a certified pigsty.

Unlike last time, needed to stash the groceries in the fridge, which meant… living room detour. Big mistake.

Trash mostly in piles, yeah, mostly. But the floor? Mountain range of unfolded laundry, fresh out the dryer but still… mountainous. Plastic bottles scattered like bowling pins after a strike.

Yeah, no wonder she was speechless. Word or two of disgust? Understatement of the year. Should’ve cleaned up, like, ever.

Duh, hindsight 20/20, and future-predicting ain’t exactly my superpower. But still, gotta wish, right? Past me, get your act together!

“I know I’m the one crashing here, so maybe I shouldn’t say this, but… you’re unbelievably messy.”

“…Yeah, sorry.”

Totally deserved. All I could do was mumble apologies.

Starting to seriously regret the whole ‘come-on-over’ invitation, even if it was kinda unavoidable.

“…Ugh.”

Sajo-san sighed, dramatic and world-weary.

Heart did a little jump-scare. Eyes glued to her, jittery as heck, and then… what? She’s reaching for the laundry pile.

“Uh… hey, uh…?”

“…Can’t even walk.”

Confusion overload, but then, Sajo-san snags a shirt from the peak of Mount Laundry, drops to her knees, and folds herself into a perfect seiza.

“No way we’re eating dinner in this… disaster zone. Unless you’re planning on us eating on the trash?”

Head shake, vigorous ‘no-no-NO.’ Seriously, no way. …But, yeah, the room was kinda trash-adjacent.

“...Is it… washed?” Suspicious squint. “Just not folded, I swear!” Voice cracked mid-sentence, all nervous-twitchy. Hasty answer sounding super shady? Yeah, definitely. Got the full-force side-eye of doubt. And then, BAM, she’s grabbing the shirt, shoving it under her nose, taking a big, loud sniff. Sniff.

Outrageous! Throat did a weird gurgle-noise, like a strangled frog. S-sniffing the… laundry!?

Me, internally combusting from sheer mortification. Sajo-san? Zero chill lost. “Guess it’s not a lie,” she muttered, all matter-of-fact, and just kept folding.

~~…!!!??

Brain short-circuiting, full system crash. Wanted to slam my head on the floor. Probably get yelled at, so… resisted. But mentally, yeah, full-on rage quit.

Why so calm?! Seriously, not even a little embarrassed? Sniffing and being sniffed? Is it just me? Am I the weird one here? Am I seriously more bothered by sharing a soda bottle with a girl than this?! Is my sense of normal completely broken?

Head in hands, existential crisis in full swing. And then, naturally, “Quiet down,” snapped Sajo-san. Instant shrink-down. Shrink.

Am I the weird one here? Still wrestling with the shame-doubt combo, but… making any more noise? Sounded like eviction-territory. So, yeah, zipped it. Even though, hey, my apartment, right?

And, uh, putting the whole ‘sniff-test’ thing aside…

Making her clean up my mess? Majorly uncool, right?

If this was a date-gone-wrong scenario, breakup talk would be on the table, guaranteed. Not-girlfriend status? Silver lining? Nah, not really feeling the silver lining vibe right now.

Just… overwhelmingly guilty. But… stop her? Help her? Brain.exe crashed.

Wobbled back and forth, mumbled incoherently, “Uh… ah… er…”. Brain-to-mouth connection? Offline.

Lost in my internal meltdown, and then, Sajo-san, laundry pile shrinking under her hands, finally spoke up.

“…Hate being in debt.”

Hands froze.

Sajo-san, head tilted up, face turned to me. Eyes met. But just for a flash, and then, like she’d been burned, she snatched up another armful of unfolded clothes. “Just ‘cause,” she added, voice sharp, like a warning, and dove back into folding, all focused intensity.

…Heh.

Smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, fighting to stay hidden. Danger, danger! Almost cracked. Almost got yelled at again.

Turns out, Sajo-san’s surprisingly… dutiful, huh?

“Yeah, well, you know. ‘Cause of the lunch thing.”

No debts, no favors.

Sajo-san’s lip curled, a sarcastic little smirk. And then, tossed out, like she was spitting out a bad taste:

“Oh, right… those terrible, clueless lunches.”

“Personality-packed and delicious? Sounds pretty awesome to me.”

Straight-up honest compliment. Response? Full-on pout-mode, lips clamped shut.

Eyes and mouth twisted in a grumpy frown. “...You’re good at… prettying up words, aren’t you?” Sarcasm dripping off every syllable.

But it’s the truth!

Is my word-fu failing me? Or is Sajo-san just allergic to honesty?

Just wish she’d give me a little more credit, you know? Thinking that, when – bam – her eyes narrowed again, laser-focused on me. “Speaking of,” she said, voice low and dangerous. Uh oh, what now?

“Those stacked-up cans. What are those?”

“…Uh oh.”

Oh, those.

Sajo-san, chin-pointing at the corner of the room. Empty can pyramid.

Even in the room-sized disaster zone that was my living room, that gaudy, colorful tower screamed ‘look at me, I’m weird!’

Yeah, should’ve seen that one coming.

Sajo-san’s stare, silently accusing, was starting to burn a hole in my cheek. Eyes darted away, anywhere but there.

But even looking away, that stare was still there, prickling like needles.

Barely a whisper, voice practically swallowed by the air, I mumbled excuses. Yeah, yeah, already knew ‘excuses’ before even opening my mouth was a fail. But still, gotta try, right?

“Well, see, uh… you know?”

What to say? Brain blanked.

“It’s just—, throwing them out was a pain, and, uh, while they were piling up, I started wondering, like, how high could I stack ‘em? And then, stacking ‘em every day just got kinda… fun? And then, yeah, didn’t wanna throw ‘em out anymore. But hey, they’re stacked pretty neatly, right?”

“And?”

My epic, heartfelt (okay, maybe not so heartfelt) explanation, nuked by a single syllable: “And?”

Cold sweat city, population: me.

“Ah! But they’re, like, totally washed, so they’re not dirty or anything, okay? Seriously, clean cans, promise.”

“…Right.”

Tried to play it off, all goofy grins and shrugs, hoping for a maybe-laugh, maybe-it’ll-blow-over vibe. Sajo-san? Stone cold.

“Throw them away.”

Ice-cold declaration.

Stood up, “Got it?” – not a question, just a final verdict. And yeah, me? Helpless.

“……Yeah, okay,” I managed, just a nod really.

That was it. Tower of my lazy-bum excuses? Crashed and burned in about two seconds flat.

Ugh.

■■

Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle…

Weird cooking sounds drifting in from the kitchen.

Turns out, Sajo-san – where’d she even find it? – had dug out this frilly, super-cute apron and was making dinner.

“Since I’m imposing on you today,” she’d said, taking charge of dinner duty.

My supermarket kalbi-don? Just the one, and apparently not up to Sajo-san’s standards, ‘cause it was now chilling in the fridge.

Yeah, a tiny part of me was still craving that kalbi-don, but comparing that to the whole ‘girl-cooking-for-me’ situation? Tiny craving, instantly vanished.

Peeking into the kitchen, there she was – Sajo-san, rocking a pink frilly apron that was the total opposite of her usual cool, detached vibe.

Gap in image? Major. But maybe ‘cause she’s just too good-looking? It was weirdly out of place, and yet, somehow, it totally worked. Face-power, off the charts.

Still, looks can be deceiving. Despite the ‘I-can-do-anything’ aura, she seemed to be having a bit of a wrestling match with the whole cooking thing.

Eyes glued to her phone, checking it every few seconds, she was chopping and stirring with these tentative, kinda clumsy movements.

Thwack, thwack, thwack – chopping tomatoes like she was trying to cleave the cutting board in two, maybe even the counter underneath.

Phone, measuring spoons, phone again, then a hesitant sprinkle of something into a bowl.

She’d said ‘no help needed,’ but seriously? Just watching was making me sweat.

Not like I could cook anything better.

Still, felt like watching your kid trying to use a knife for the first time – seriously nerve-wracking.

So, yeah, I was lurking in the shadows of the kitchen counter, secretly keeping watch. But then, she finished slicing the chicken, let out a little ‘phew’ breath, and looked up. Eyes met mine.

Uh oh, maybe busted? ‘Cause her face immediately went all stern.

“Didn’t I say, ‘sit down and wait quietly’? What is it? Can’t even manage that? Are you, like, a baby or something?”

“Goo goo gaa gaa… Wait, no! Sorry, sorry! And hey, seriously, don’t come at me with that knife!”

Tried to joke it off, lighten the mood, and almost ended up on the wrong end of a kitchen utensil. Scrambled back to my beanbag chair in the living room, pronto.

Guess she really didn’t want anyone watching her cook?

Yeah, watching Sajo-san in the kitchen was a total heart-attack-waiting-to-happen, my pulse was doing Olympic sprints. But still, couldn’t help feeling like I needed to keep an eye on things, just in case.

But nope, didn’t want anyone seeing her struggle, didn’t want to show any weakness, maybe? Tried to help at first, got booted out. Tried to just hang around and ‘supervise,’ got a shin-kick for my trouble.

Maybe a little bit of a show-off? Just as that thought crossed my mind, she walked out, putting a stack of plates on the table. “Almost ready. Set the table.”

“Roger that!”

Hand shot up in a salute, all goofy grin.

Got a ‘seriously?’ look for that, but Sajo-san just went back to the kitchen, no comment. Hey, wasn’t trying to be annoying, honest!

Finally, a chore I could actually do! Back when the family was still around, I’d probably be dragging my feet, ‘ugh, chores,’ face-planting on the table. Not tonight. Tonight, I was Mr. Helpful.

Wiped down the table, laid out the plates, chopsticks in front of each seat.

Just as I finished, Sajo-san came out, dishes piled high with food. Just needed to serve up the rice – and then, whoops.

“Ah!”

Sajo-san let out this little gasp of surprise, staring into the rice cooker.

Sounded like a ‘oh crap’ kind of gasp. Peered over her shoulder, and yeah, instant ‘oh crap’ moment confirmed.

Rice, still swimming in water in the pot.

Forgot to hit ‘start.’ Rice: uncooked.

“……Sorry.”

Sajo-san, looking seriously deflated.

Shrugged. No biggie, right? Dinner without rice? Totally doable.

“Well, in that case—” Whoa, hold up.

Frozen. Sajo-san was… crying? Totally out of nowhere. Brain short-circuited again, reaction time: glacial. What emotion was even appropriate here? Panic? Awkwardness? Confusion? All of the above?

“……What? Staring again?”

Sajo-san, totally oblivious to the tears streaming down her face, same old detached voice. Not even a hint of a sob, just… flat.

Seriously, was I hallucinating the whole crying thing? But nope, still there. Tear-rivers carving paths down her cheeks, reflecting the light. Definitely crying.

“Uh, no, it’s just… hey, um… you okay?”

Cautious question, tiptoeing around the whole ‘giant tears’ thing. Sajo-san tilted her head, touched her face, fingers brushing wetness, and then, oh. Realization dawning. She wiped her damp cheek with a fingertip, sighed, like she was just so done with herself.

“Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time.”

“‘Don’t worry about it’? Seriously?”

And ‘happens all the time’?!

Majorly confused now. Worried, too. And yeah, no way I was just gonna ‘forget about it.’

And okay, rice-fail was the trigger, but… crying over rice? Nah, felt like something else was going on. But yeah, definitely not my place to pry. Probably.

Brain whirring, trying to ‘not worry about it’ like she said, but failing spectacularly. Then, another sigh from her.

Looked up. Sajo-san, tears wiped away, was looking right at me.

“……Sometimes, my body just reacts before my brain catches up. I don’t feel anything, but the tears just… start flowing. Broken, see? That’s all.”

That was that. Conversation over. Sajo-san turned and headed back to the kitchen, like it was no big deal. But ‘no big deal’? Those words hit me like a truck. Processing failed.

‘Broken’? What kind of ‘broken’ was she talking about? Tear ducts gone haywire? Or… something else?

Still standing there, frozen, when Sajo-san reappeared from the kitchen. In her hand, my supermarket kalbi-don.

“Sorry, but… this okay instead of rice?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure…”

Nodded. That kalbi-don, which I’d been craving just an hour ago? Suddenly, not so appealing.

■■

Karaage fried chicken, tamagoyaki egg omelet, lettuce and tomato salad, and—mini-sausage octopuses!

Ingredients that were supposed to be tomorrow’s lunch bento, now gracing the dinner table, all colorful and tempting.

Only thing missing? Rice. Replaced by my reheated, half-price kalbi-don, portioned out onto plates.

Middle of third year of middle school.

Almost graduation, and I’d skipped out on Dad’s latest business trip, starting my solo life. Homemade meals? Ancient history. Bentos, instant ramen. Some days? Just skipped meals altogether.

And now? Look at this.

Girl. Not just any girl, but a straight-up super-cute girl, cooking for me. Dreaming? Pinched my cheek. Yep, pain. Real life.

Yeah, stuff was definitely weird. But hey, faced with this feast, appetite, anticipation, and just plain happiness won out.

“……I know it’s not great.”

Sajo-san, sitting across from me, mumbled, voice low. My cheek-pinching? Guess she thought I was finding fault.

And yeah, okay, she kinda had a point.

Sajo-san’s cooking? Generally… rough around the edges.

A bit burnt here, ingredients chopped all wonky and uneven there.

Those mini-sausages she’d tried to octopus-ify? Total massacre. Too many cuts, they’d just… disintegrated. Sausage-octopus genocide.

Tamagoyaki? Shape disaster, surface all crumbly and torn. Guess rolling it up neatly hadn’t quite worked out.

Karaage? Deeply, darkly browned, borderline charcoal. Sizes all over the place too.

Salad looked… well, salad-y. Neat and green. But pointing that out? Yeah, probably wouldn’t come across as praise. More like sarcasm.

Definitely not ‘gourmet’ by any stretch.

But ‘not great’ didn’t mean ‘bad.’ Not even close.

“Itadakimasu!” Clapped my hands together, picked up my chopsticks, and snagged a piece of karaage.

“Mmm, delicious!”

Juicy, crispy. Cheeks automatically stretched into a grin.

“Yeah, yeah, spare me the compliments.”

“Seriously, not just saying it.”

And yeah, seriously not. Not just being polite.

Especially the karaage. Fried stuff, right? Way better than store-bought, sitting-around-for-hours karaage. Crispy coating, actually crispy. Homemade fried chicken? Always wins.

And not just the karaage. Everything else too.

Yeah, kinda ugly, not exactly picture-perfect. But the taste? Spot on. Fact, not fiction.

Been noticing it for a week now, ever since she started making bentos. But seeing her cook tonight…

“You’re so careful. And… thorough.”

Seeing her in action, finally clicked why her food tasted so good.

Sajo-san wasn’t a natural-born chef, no way. One look at her cooking, anyone could tell. And watching her fumble around in the kitchen? Case closed.

But she was trying, really trying, to follow the recipes.

Measuring spoons for spices, double-frying the karaage like the recipe said.

Careful, meticulous, not skimping on effort.

Yeah, maybe that’s why it took forever, and why stuff sometimes got a little… charred while she was double-checking the recipe on her phone.

Sajo-san’s cooking? Delicious, no surprise there.

“It’s like… your kind personality comes through in the food, you know?”

“……What? Makes no sense.”

Like ‘if you’re gonna talk nonsense, just eat,’ she started piling food onto my plate.

Before I knew it, salad, tamagoyaki, karaage – all crammed onto one plate, overflowing.

“Whoa… seriously? All this?”

“Don’t care.”

Huffed, turned her head away. Well, okay then, challenge accepted. Gonna eat it all.

And so, for a while, just me, silently shoveling food, and Sajo-san, side-eyeing me every few seconds. Felt like a panda at the zoo, being watched while I ate bamboo. Kinda unsettling.

But then, maybe halfway through the mountain of food she’d piled on my plate, she seemed… satisfied?

She clasped her hands together, a whisper-quiet, “……Itadakimasu,” and finally, finally, picked up her own chopsticks. Daintily plucked a tiny shred of karaage batter, and nibbled it with her lips barely parted.

Perfect jawline, moving delicately as she chewed.

“Delicious, right?”

Grinned, all proud-chef vibes. Sajo-san’s response? Full-force frown.

“Tastes awful.”

“Eeeh?”

Girl was stubborn, seriously, and about as straightforward as a pretzel.

“No way, no way! Delicious, right? C’mon, c’mon, honest feedback time!”

“……Annoying.”

Gave me a death glare, radiating pure ‘leave me alone’ vibes. Fine, fine, back off. Even if it was seriously delicious.

“Seriously… awful.”

Muttering it over and over, ‘awful, awful,’ like a mantra. Like she was trying to convince herself. Or maybe… wishing it was true?

But still. Slowly, steadily, Sajo-san kept eating, chopsticks moving, until her plate was clean.