What am I doing? I was the one who invited Kureha to join. I was overconfident, thinking no other girl would be a match for Chitose. How childish and pathetic to throw a tantrum just because another girl was better at baseball. But… I mean… I just didn’t want to give up my place. Not to anyone else. Gasping for air, I suddenly realized the truth. No relationship stays the same forever. An unspoken love can’t be sustained indefinitely. I want the best of both worlds? What a stupid, naive thing to think. Everything…was just by chance. Back then, that July, I just happened to be close to Chitose. But what if Kureha was in the same grade, or in the same class? “Gaaah!!!” I wanted to be the one and only one. Your only special partner… Ah, you big dum-dum. I, Yuzuki Nanase, clucked my tongue in frustration and stood up. I ran over to Kureha, reaching her the same moment Chitose did. I put a hand on her shoulder, just as tears welled up in her eyes. “Don’t worry about it. She was the one in the wrong just then.” Kureha looked at me with wide, anxious eyes. “Yuzuki, I…” “It’s okay. She just needs to cool down. I’ll give her a talking-to later.” I thought of my partner as I tried to soothe the younger girl. Tch. That’s not the way to act. I understand feeling anxious. Okay. So you had a little meltdown. It happens. But the time you’ve built with Chitose isn’t so fragile it can be destroyed by a simple slipup over a game of catch. Still, I thought, shrugging. I thought we’d returned to a peaceful state after August, but now it was clear that it was just an uneasy ceasefire. And like with Nishino yesterday, all it took was an innocent junior girl, a girl we’d only just gotten to know, to set sparks flying again. I sighed again. “Chitose.” When I said his name, he turned toward me with an awkward look on his face. “You don’t have to worry about it, either.” Chitose still looked anxious. “I think I got a bit carried away, though…” “No,” I replied, shaking my head slowly. “It’s not your fault, or Kureha’s. I’m sure she knows that, too. She’ll probably apologize soon, so don’t take it too seriously. And don’t be too hard on her. Kureha…could you help out?” The two of them looked at each other and nodded. “…All right.” “…Yes, of course.” Ah, my partner’s a real handful, I thought, frowning. The next day after school. I, Saku Chitose, was walking to the exit along with Yua. By the way, Haru apologized profusely first thing in the morning. In accordance with Nanase’s advice, I tried to keep it chill. “You’ll need to train hard so you don’t let Kureha beat you, you know.” “Right!” Like I said…chill. When lunchtime came around, Haru wolfed down her lunch, grabbed my glove, and made a beeline for Kureha’s classroom. I tagged along—a bit worried, I guess—but Haru ended up dragging our panicked-looking junior out to the field and giving her a heartfelt apology. This was Haru’s way of reconciling. After that, we played catch together until the end of lunch break. I was relieved to see the two sporty girls settle their differences with some physical activity. But marching her out of her classroom is better for giving a cheeky younger student a lecture or something, if you ask me. “What’s on your mind, Saku?” Yua looked up from beside me. I shook my head briefly. “No, it’s all right. This particular issue’s already been resolved.” Yua had no club practice, and there were no cheerleading squad activities today, so we’d agreed to go do our usual grocery shopping. We changed our shoes and walked outside, encountering Nanase and Kureha. They were both in their sports practice clothes, chatting. Maybe it was a follow-up after yesterday. After Haru’s outburst, it didn’t really seem like the right time for us all to eat katsudon, so we’d ended up just disbanding at Higashi Park. I’d taken Kureha home at Nanase’s request, but after what happened with Asuka, and now Haru, I’d been worried that Kureha might be feeling a bit down. Kureha looked up and spotted us then, calling out as perkily as ever. “Senpai! Yua!” As we went over to join her and Nanase, she said, “Are you two going somewhere?” “Yep,” said Yua. “Shopping for daily necessities and ingredients, and then I’m going to prepare some side dishes for meal prep.” “Oh, I see! Umm…” Kureha started to say something but then fell silent, looking awkward. Then, with an unnaturally bright smile, she waved both hands wildly in the air and said, “Sorry, it’s nothing!” Maybe she was going to ask if she could come, too. But then she remembered how Asuka and Haru had acted and decided not to go there. She’d said before that she wanted to come over to my place, and I would’ve liked to invite her, but I really didn’t know how to do that while making it feel normal. As I was thinking about that, Yua said, “Would you like to come, too, Kureha?” Kureha looked hesitant. “Um, well, are you sure…?” Yua glanced over at me. “It’s cool, isn’t it, Saku?” I felt the tension drain from my face. “No problems here.” “In that case,” Kureha said, smiling with her eyes, “I’ll be there as soon as club practice is done! Please send me your address, Senpai!” Yua nodded with a gentle smile. “We’ll wait until you get there for dinner, then.” Nanase, who’d been watching the exchange silently, suddenly raised her hand. “Uh… Can I come, too?” Yua and I made eye contact, and… ““Of course!”” …we both responded with the exact same words. After finishing the shopping, I, Yua Uchida, stepped into Saku’s apartment and carefully lined up my shoes. “I’m home,” I muttered to myself. Clutching my shopping tote bag in both hands, I headed to the kitchen. When I saw my little stool sitting there, I couldn’t help smiling. It had been a while since that day, but it was still there. My very own spot, prepared for me by Saku himself. Even though the shopping needed to go in the fridge, I couldn’t stop myself from perching on my stool. It wasn’t particularly comfortable, and I wasn’t really used to sitting on it yet. But it made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. What shall we make today? What about tomorrow? What about the day after tomorrow? I like spending time in this room thinking about potential dinner menus. It makes me feel like I’m writing my schedule on Saku’s calendar. So that even when you’re on a date with Yuuko, or going to a fancy café with Yuzuki, or practicing with Haru, or having deep chats with Asuka… …you’ll come back here to eat…and think of me. I want to be special, yeah. But I also don’t want to give up this pleasant, ordinary life that we’ve found our way back to. Especially so if everyone else is also cherishing this September as much as I am. Just a little longer. Until the day “someday” becomes “now,” and we have to face everything… …This is good. This is how I want it to be. Saku saw that I hadn’t started cleaning up or bustling around the way I usually do, and he chuckled. “How about some barley tea?” I got embarrassed all of a sudden and stood up. I looked away, flustered. “Sorry, it’s okay. I’ll do it myself.” “All right. I’ll just be reading a book, then. Call me if you need some help.” Saku set his Tivoli Audio playing and headed to the sofa in his usual way. Hanaregumi’s “Family Landscape” began to play through the speakers. Yep, everywhere I looked, I saw this familiar apartment. Feeling somehow soothed, I started putting the shopping away. I organized it all in my usual efficient style—stuff we’d use today, stuff to freeze, stuff to split between his place and my own… Suddenly, Saku spoke up. “Yua, can I ask you something?” “Sure.” “What do you think of Kureha?” That’s unusual, I thought, tilting my head. Usually, he wouldn’t come to me for advice about interpersonal relationships. He’s the type to decide for himself who he’d rather associate with. I thought for a second before responding. “What do I think of her? I think she’s a sweet, earnest first-year girl…” “Right,” Saku said. “Sorry, weird question. Forget it.” Something on your mind? Come to think of it, wouldn’t Saku normally have invited Kureha to his place without any hesitation? Instead, I was the one to invite her. Isn’t that a bit weird? Maybe he was still worried about being overly nice to girls. Still, I doubt he had to worry when it came to Kureha. She was our junior, after all. Anyway, I thought, smiling wryly. This kind of thing is just classic Saku. …Thock thock thock. I got the cucumbers for pickling out and cut them diagonally down the length. “Sorry, Saku, could you roll up my shirtsleeves?” I always forget. Or maybe…I forget on purpose. “Sure.” Without showing any sign of being put-upon, Saku came behind me and rolled my shirtsleeves back for me. Suddenly, I got a whiff of his scent. It made me shiver, my shoulders shaking just a little. Saku spoke, casually, close to my ear… “Yua, give me a bit of cucumber.” I twitched but tried not to let it show. “I haven’t even flavored them yet.” “Just a little mayo and shichimi on top, then a drop of soy sauce.” “All right, all right.” I cut the cucumber briskly into rounds and topped one with the mayonnaise, shichimi pepper, and soy sauce. “Here.” I picked up a piece of cucumber and, without looking, lifted it to shoulder level. Owp. When Saku took it into his mouth, his moist lips touched my fingertips lightly. Crunch, crunch. Oblivious to my flustered state… The sound of his jaw munching cucumber softly receded. This guy. Smiling a little, I grabbed the knife once more. All in all, it took about two hours to prep all the food. Usually, he’d be coming over around this time to help with the dishes, but… I looked over at the sofa and saw Saku sleeping comfortably on his side, his fingers sandwiched inside the paperback book he was reading. The warm sunlight streaming in through the window covered him like a blanket. I approached the sofa and quietly crouched to look at his sleeping face. Gently, I pushed his bangs out of his eyes with my pinkie. “Mmn…” Saku mashed his lips together, looking ticklish. His eyelashes, long for a boy’s, cast faint shadows on his cheeks. This is the only time, I thought. He always tries to look so cool and do everything right, but this is the only time he shows his vulnerability. No matter where Saku is, no matter who he’s with, no matter how he spends his time… I want this moment—him napping peacefully to the sound of chopping knives and clanging pans—to be a moment that exists for me alone. Yuzuki and Kureha arrived a little after seven. Apparently, the two of them had arranged to meet up after their club practices. Yuzuki pressed her hands together apologetically. “Sorry for showing up empty-handed.” Saku answered from the sofa. “We’ve bought the ingredients for dinner, and we have drinks, so it’s cool.” Kureha looked around the apartment with great interest. “So this is your place! Wow.” Yuzuki put her sports bag down casually and took a seat on the sofa. Saku turned to Kureha. “Please make yourself at home. If you’re thirsty, feel free to drink whatever you like from the fridge.” “Okay! Thanks!” Looking at the two of them, I chuckled. “Well then, I’ll start preparing dinner.” When I was about to put my apron back on again… “Um…” Kureha put down her bag and spoke up hesitantly. “Yua, aren’t you tired after cooking for so long?” I wasn’t sure what she meant. “I always cook like this… I think I’m fine?” Kureha fidgeted, lacing her fingers together in front of her. “Um, but you made so much stuff for us during the training camp… I know I can’t really hope to repay the favor to the same extent, but…” She lifted her chin determinedly. “May I cook dinner for everyone tonight?” She looked earnestly at me. Now her nervousness made sense. During the training camp, and today, too, I had naturally assumed the role of cook. Saku and Yuzuki must have expected it, too. No doubt it was difficult for Kureha to make this suggestion. I chuckled. “Kureha, do you cook often?” Kureha covered her cheeks with embarrassment. “Well, it’s kind of a hobby of mine. Although it’s certainly nothing special to show off in front of a pro chef like you, Yua…” “Well, the other day I promised to treat you to a more authentic pasta meal, right? So today, I bought the ingredients to make pescatore…” “I think I can make it if I just follow the recipe!” “I see,” I said, smiling. It was a bit time-consuming for a pasta dish… But maybe Kureha really did like cooking. I felt a little guilty about taking over during the training camp, when maybe Kureha wanted to cook, too. And maybe I could kick back and enjoy someone else cooking me dinner for once. Besides, if she got stuck, I could always jump in to help out. I looked over at Saku, who shrugged, as if to say, “Up to you.” Yuzuki, however, was gazing at Kureha, seemingly deep in thought, for some reason. “Well, sure,” I said, nodding. “May I use your apron, if you don’t mind?” “Sure! Here you go!” When I handed her the apron, Kureha quickly slipped it on with ease. Super casually, she took out a hair tie and pulled back her hair. “Senpai, Yua, is it okay if I use the leftover vegetables?” We replied at the same time. “Sure.” “Fine by me.” Still, I thought as I watched Kureha immediately take out the cabbage, it feels strange not being the one in the kitchen in this apartment. I wasn’t sure if I should go sit on the sofa or hang out at the dinner table in case my help was needed. Thinking about it, ever since Mom left, I don’t think anyone has ever cooked dinner for me… Saku came over, as if to observe. He started making his usual silly remarks, teasing his junior. “Wow? I’m a big fan of shredded cabbage.” I rolled my eyes and tapped him playfully on the back. “Don’t start that with Kureha.” He laughed, as if realizing it might be an imposition to closely observe. It had to be difficult with two seniors watching you like hawks from behind. But Kureha didn’t seem worried at all. “Okay! Got it!” She cut off the core of the remaining cabbage, about a quarter of it, and split it in half down the middle. Huh? When you try to shred a quarter-size cabbage as is, as I did at first, it can be a bit difficult because of the height. Dividing it into two was clearly the gesture of someone with experience. Kureha then quickly readied her knife, and… Thock thock thock thock. A pleasant staccato beat. The thinly shredded cabbage spread out like fluffy cotton candy. ““Huh…?”” Saku and I both muttered in surprise. Kureha grinned. “Senpais, are you both surprised?!” Without waiting for our response, she continued speaking. “My parents both work late, so I make dinner a lot.” After she finished slicing the cabbage, Kureha turned around. Eyes twinkling, she said… “What’s my score, Senpai?” Saku answered immediately, like he didn’t even need to give it a second thought. “Perfect score. No notes.” …Nng. For some reason, that throwaway remark made something twinge inside my chest. How many times did it take me to get a passing grade from Saku? I wondered. I know it’s pointless to make comparisons. It took Yuzuki a lot of practice, but she managed to get a pass from Saku on her second effort. At the time, I didn’t think anything of it. Maybe Kureha’s family just really loves shredded cabbage. This junior girl was able to meet Saku’s standards in one go…but for me, it took a while. There was no point in getting competitive over something like this…but still… Thump. Suddenly, an indescribable fear rose inside me. Up until now, there was no girl my age as good at cooking as I was. Saku could make a meal for himself, and of course Yuzuki had her own culinary skills. But the difference was in the experience. I’d been cooking almost every day since I was in elementary school, so I knew how to use all kinds of ingredients and make all kinds of dishes. I knew which dishes I could whip up even at busy times, the best way to reduce cleanup, the best way to make use of leftover ingredients, and so on. I thought I was probably the only high school girl around who knew how to cook that way… The most optimal way, I mean. I watched as Kureha set the cabbage to soak in ice water and started boiling a pot on the stove. I’ve never been proud of my cooking, exactly. Not like some people. It was more like I was forced to learn how out of necessity. I don’t think I’d ever have cooked this much if I’d had a mother. It makes sense that I can cook better than kids who only have to worry about going to school. And although everyone compliments me, I’ve never thought of myself as a particularly good cook. I mean, the nicest thing you could say is that I make good, hearty fare. But you could also call it plain. Bland. Bog-standard home cooking. It’s not that I’m good at cooking. I’m just used to doing it. It was the only thing I had to be remotely proud of. It’s the type of cooking that doesn’t require a lot of prep or fancy embellishments. The type that fits nicely around a life as a support. But suppose I’m not the only one? Right now, Kureha appeared to be making consommé soup with whatever vegetables she had on hand. She probably wanted to get it done first, since the pasta would use up two burners on the stove. Without asking me or even looking at a recipe, she took out shrimp, squid, clams that had been de-shelled, and mussels from the fridge and began preparing them. Remove the veins, pull off the legs, and clean with a scrubbing brush… Suddenly, Kureha stopped what she was doing and looked up, startled. “Sorry, Senpai. Could you come roll my sleeves back?” Huh…? …Wait a minute. No… Stop. I’ll do it. I felt like there was a part of me inside that had just burst into noisy, sobbing tears. Because… …Saku, who I always ask to do that for me, came up behind Kureha without any hesitation. “Sure.” One arm at a time, he rolled up her sleeves with the ease that comes with practice. “Thanks!” “Welcome.” Kureha continued with her food prep without showing any particular signs of embarrassment. Could that junior girl smell Saku’s scent just now? Did she feel his warmth against her back? Feel his ticklish breath caress her ear? Would she be able to recall those precious moments anytime she wanted to? What if there was someone else? I kept thinking. What if there was another girl besides me who was just as good at cooking? Done with the seafood prep, Kureha washed her hands and then started counting shrimp. She nodded to herself and turned on the gas under the cast-iron frying pan. While it was heating up, she de-shelled and de-headed four shrimp. Then she combined olive oil, tube garlic, sake, lemon juice, salt, and pepper in a small bowl. She popped in the shrimp and mixed it well. When white smoke began to rise from the cast-iron pan, she added the olive oil from the bowl and swirled it gently. As the four shrimp began to fry, a mouthwatering aroma filled the air. She let them cook for a moment, then flipped the pan, to cook the other side. Once they were cooked through, Kureha sprinkled some dried parsley on top and said… “We had a few extra, so I whipped up some garlic shrimp! Though it actually tastes better if you let it marinate for a little longer.” She picked up a shrimp and beckoned. “Here, Senpai. Try one.” Saku went over obediently. Kureha blew on it to cool it down, then… “Here.” …she held up the shrimp, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Saku hesitated, frowning. “It’s okay, I can hold it by myself. You go ahead and eat one, Kureha.” Part of me felt reassured by his response. Though he had no problem eating cucumber from my fingers earlier, he wouldn’t do that with Kureha. What a stupid thing to be getting all relieved over, though. Gosh, I’m starting to hate myself. But Kureha would not be deterred. “No, come on. Open wide.” “Tsk,” Saku said, scratching the back of his head. Maybe he gave up. Or maybe he really wanted Kureha’s shrimp. Either way, he opened wide and snapped it up off her fingers. After munching for a second, he muttered: “Yeah. That’s really good.” This… This girl… …Did she just…touch his lips? Thump, thump, thump, thump. I was frozen. The only part of me moving was my heart, thumping away inside me. Kureha, in the kitchen. Cooking a delicious meal just for Saku. A scene completely alien to this apartment. Kureha came over to me with the remaining shrimp on a small plate. She picked one up and offered it, just as she’d done with Saku. “Here, Yua. Open up!” I ate the shrimp mechanically, unable to crack a smile. Each chew made me feel more and more aggravated. It’s not like it was some time-consuming dish. Just something she whipped up using whatever ingredients and seasonings came to mind, resulting in a simple, comforting, home-cooked taste. Right. It’s official. I’m not the only one. Not anymore. “Yes… It’s very good, isn’t it?” I’m not the only one who can make this kind of food for you… Kureha went to Yuzuki next. After eating her own shrimp, she quickly washed the frying pan. Saku casually spoke up: “You’re good. I had no idea how to cook until Yua took me under her wing.” Stop. Don’t say that. I know you mean no harm, but you make it sound like I’m replaceable. But… It’s the truth, isn’t it? I am. Kureha put the pasta pot in the sink and turned on the water forcefully. Splosh. Like she was washing away everything of mine. “Maybe I can come cook for you whenever Yua’s busy?” That was it—she’d said the thing I was most afraid of. Slosh, slosh, bang. “Oh, no way. I could never ask a younger girl to come cook for me. I’m not helpless, actually. I generally manage to feed myself.” It’s okay. Saku politely declined. “Aw, that’s too bad.” It’s okay. Kureha backed off. No issues. It’s okay, it’s okay. But I still felt all messed up inside. That wasn’t a definite no. Just a no for now. It was a casual chat. No one would complain if either of them took it back. Would this really be the first and last time Kureha cooked here? The innocent junior girl, so fond of Saku—she might start coming here every day. Just come right over. Like she did today. Maybe she’d stay in her lane if I was there. But what if I wasn’t, and it was just her and him? If she completely forgot about today’s conversation and enthusiastically went shopping for dinner ingredients, it would be hard for even Saku to refuse. No…I was still trying to ignore the truth. It’s not that it would be hard for him to refuse. It’s more like, what possible reason would he have to refuse? He usually eats my food, and he’s even eaten Yuzuki’s cooking before, so it was really selfish of me to hope that he wouldn’t ever eat Kureha’s. Besides, just now he only refused her offer to cook for him on a regular basis. There shouldn’t be any problem if it was just every once in a while. And then, little by little… …he’d start to crave home cooking that wasn’t mine. I don’t want that, I thought, watching Kureha put the pasta pot on the stove as I clutched my chest. Would he get used to the rhythm of knives chopping other than mine? Would he eat my food but think of hers? Would it become like a daily routine? Would he begin to take naps while she was over? Would Kureha notice you sleeping, come over, squat down, gently brush your bangs aside, and smile softly at the sight of your sleeping face? I don’t want that, I thought, biting my lip so hard, I tasted blood. …Those were scenes from an ordinary, comfortable life. Those were my scenes. Kureha tested the soup and tilted her head slightly. I guess the vegetables weren’t cooked through. It looked like they needed to be simmered a bit more. But before I knew it, all the other preparations were complete. The gas stove had two burners, and right now it was full with the soup and pasta pots. Kureha looked around, and suddenly her eyes stopped on one spot. There, in front of her, was the little chair that Saku gave me as a gift. In the perfect spot for someone to sit and wait for the soup to be done. Kureha started walking over, her slippers slapping innocently against the floor. Thump, thump, thump, THUMP. My heart was going faster and faster and faster. “…Don’t.” I murmured this almost inaudibly. Kureha reached for my chair and pulled it toward her… At the edge of my blurry vision, Saku opened his mouth to say something in a panic, but before he could speak… “Don’t sit there!!!” …I nearly screamed, my throat tight. There was a moment of intense silence. Suddenly, a fat tear splashed down Kureha’s cheek. Time…stopped. I couldn’t believe what I’d just done. Saku had his head hanging low. Yuzuki, on the sofa, made no sound. Only Kureha spoke. “The…the onions in the soup are starting to sting my eyes.” She laughed it off heartily. And in that moment… …I was swallowed by a guilt that felt indescribably intense. Kureha casually wiped away her tears, keeping her voice bright. “Don’t tell me this is your chair, Yua? If so, I’m really sorry!” Suddenly, Saku seemed to snap out of it and came to step right in between us. “Sorry, that was my fault! I assumed that Yua would cook dinner today like always and…” The two of them were both desperately concerned about me… Their reactions bore down on me until I couldn’t do or say anything. Gradually, I felt my eyeballs growing hot. My vision was getting blurry. I couldn’t see you…or my chair. Even so, I thought, shutting my eyes tight. The worst thing I could possibly do in this moment is cry. I turned my back to Saku and Kureha and rubbed my eyes hard. Then I picked up my bag and ran to the front door. “Yua!” “Yua!” Don’t come after me. Don’t call out to me. I’m the one who got her own feelings hurt. I shoved my feet in my shoes and bowed low, avoiding everyone’s gaze. “Sorry, I’m going home for today. Kureha, please take care of dinner.” I babbled something that was meant to be an apology but ended up sounding snotty, and I ran out of the apartment that had finally started to feel like a home. I ran down the stairs, tripping, using my fingers to roughly swipe away the tears that were spilling like water from a burst dam. Why? How? I mean… Thump, thump, thump… The heavy footsteps didn’t sound like mine. Like I was kicking the stairs with my angry feet. I’m awful. I’m horrible. So I guess that’s why I got punished. The toe of my loafer got caught on the second-to-last step, and I went flying. I skinned my knees and palms, and a sharp, burning pain shot through me. Like oozing muck, my true self had seeped out. When did I get so conceited?
Chapter 121
25 min read