Chapter 173

Everything was so delicious that Mahiru silently chewed away, bringing her meal to her mouth bite by bite, while Miss Koyuki watched over her with a cheerful grin. “Miss Koyuki, why are you so good at cooking?” After she had finished eating, while she was helping Miss Koyuki clear away the dishes, Mahiru asked the question that had been weighing on her mind. Miss Koyuki’s cooking was incredibly tasty. Mahiru knew it was bad to compare it to her school lunches, but she thought it was wonderful how Miss Koyuki prepared so many more things that were to Mahiru’s taste than they did at school. “Well, let’s see, it must be because I’ve been alive several times longer than you, young lady, and I made meals for my daughters every day. When you’re a mother to children, you naturally become good at things like that.” “So then, does that mean my mother is good at cooking, too?” It was a simple question, but the moment she asked it, it caused Miss Koyuki’s smile to stiffen. But she soon reverted to her usual gentle expression and turned to Mahiru with a kind look in her eye. “…I’m not sure about Lady Sayo. She is the kind of person who can do anything, and do it well, but I’ve never seen her cook before.” “Oh, okay.” If even Miss Koyuki had never seen her mother cook, then there was no hope, and Mahiru immediately gave up on the idea. I wish I could have eaten her cooking, just once. Her mother was always rushing around, silent and busy, and Mahiru hardly ever even saw her. The first time Mahiru had heard that, in most normal families, one of the parents fixed the meals, she hadn’t been able to hide her surprise. It had also taken a little time for her to understand that not every household had a housekeeper, once she was old enough to question it. “Young lady, would you prefer a meal that Lady Sayo made?” At Miss Koyuki’s question, Mahiru shook her head from side to side. “My mother almost never comes home… I would hate to bother her.” Mahiru could count on her fingers the number of times she had seen her mother. She saw her only about once or twice a year, and even when she did, her mother just did something else in the house and then left again without even looking at Mahiru. Her father seemed to be even busier with work than her mother was, and when he did come home, he avoided looking at her and then left not long after. As long as Mahiru had been aware, Miss Koyuki had been looking after all of her needs, and it seemed as if everything had been arranged for her, because she never wanted for anything. The only thing that troubled her was a growing feeling of loneliness. Even though she had said she wanted to eat her mother’s cooking, Mahiru, who had been abandoned by her parents, knew that wish would never come true, and she was afraid of being rejected, so she had never even asked. Sending her hair swaying loosely around her face, Mahiru shook her head, and Miss Koyuki frowned sadly. She looked troubled. “Um, I like your cooking, Miss Koyuki. It’s delicious every day, and it makes me happy. So it’s okay.” Mahiru didn’t want to make Miss Koyuki sad, so she hurriedly shook her head and put on a smile, but Miss Koyuki’s expression darkened even more, and Mahiru didn’t know what she should do. But soon that expression vanished, and Miss Koyuki was wearing her usual smile again. Mahiru was startled by the change and couldn’t tell what Miss Koyuki was thinking anymore. The only thing she did know was that Miss Koyuki had put on a soft smile to try to reassure her. “Thank you very much. Just hearing you say that makes me happy, young lady.” “Um, it wasn’t flattery. Your cooking really is good.” “Yes, I know that. You always seem to really enjoy it.” “Oh, good.” From the bottom of her heart, Mahiru thought everything Miss Koyuki made was delicious, so she didn’t want to be mistaken for a liar. Mahiru felt relieved Miss Koyuki had gone back to wearing the same smiling face she always wore. She watched as Miss Koyuki packed away the leftovers from dinner. Miss Koyuki always put the dinner leftovers in plastic containers so Mahiru could eat them the following morning. While Miss Koyuki couldn’t come start her housework early in the day, Miss Koyuki could still provide Mahiru with breakfast. Thanks to this, Mahiru never missed a meal, but she still found it lonely to eat breakfast by herself every morning. “I’ve got an idea. How would you like to cook with me next time, young lady?” As she finished preparing for the next morning, Miss Koyuki saw Mahiru was staring intently at the food, and she gently broached the subject. Because they were generally dangerous, Mahiru had been strictly ordered never to approach any heating elements, so Miss Koyuki’s proposal took her completely by surprise. Her big round eyes got even rounder, and she looked up at her caregiver. “I could do that?” “Yes. If you can promise you’ll only do it while I’m here and watching you.” “I—I promise!” That was an easy enough promise to make. If she broke her promise, Miss Koyuki would get angry and might leave, so Mahiru had no intention of breaking her promise. Besides, she had a feeling it would be delightful to learn from Miss Koyuki and not so pleasant to do on her own. “Excellent. If you learn how to cook, young lady, you will have fewer troubles in the future.” “Troubles…?” “Well, just for example, when you grow up and you live on your own.” “I’m alone now, though?” “…When you’re an adult and live by your own means, that is. If you can’t cook, young lady, what will you do about meals?” “…I’ll get hungry.” “That’s right. You will get hungry, won’t you? So what will you do?” “Mmm…buy something…?” If she couldn’t cook for herself, then the only way she could think of to have a meal was to eat at a restaurant, or to buy the food and take it home, or employ someone like Miss Koyuki. “Ordering in is fine, but it might be no one is selling your favorite dishes. When you want to eat your favorite foods, what will you do?” “…I’ll have to…make them?” “That’s right. Young lady, you have lots of favorite foods, don’t you? If you learn to make them yourself, every day will be enjoyable, don’t you think?” “I do think so!” At the time, Mahiru wasn’t able to imagine herself skillfully cooking her meals, but she was also confident that if Miss Koyuki would teach her, she could probably learn. She was sure she would be happy if she learned to make all sorts of different foods, like Miss Koyuki could. Every day Mahiru had all sorts of foods prepared for her, and she really enjoyed her meals, so she was sure it would be even better if she could make the food herself. Mahiru did honestly think that, and when she gave Miss Koyuki her cheerful answer, Miss Koyuki must also have been relieved, because she put on a gentle smile. “I’m so glad to hear you’re also interested in cooking, young lady. I will teach you to make anything that I’m able to.” “Like fluffy omurice?” “Yes, omurice, beef stew, miso soup, the stew you had today—you’ll learn to make all of them.” “Really, I will?” “Yes.” When she heard she would learn to make the dishes that had been produced by Miss Koyuki’s magic hands, Mahiru’s heart leapt in her chest. “Will I also learn to make my father and mother’s favorite foods?” Maybe if she was learning to make all sorts of different dishes… She wondered if her parents, who currently never so much as glanced her way, might finally look at her. She wondered if they might even eat a meal together. Full of such hopes but unable to voice them, she had asked Miss Koyuki her question. Miss Koyuki cast her eyes downward slightly but patted Mahiru’s head with the same smile on her face. Normally, Miss Koyuki hardly touched her, and Mahiru narrowed her eyes and fully savored the pleasant feeling of Miss Koyuki’s palm running gently over her hair. “That’s a good question. I think you’ll learn to make them someday.” “Then I’ll work really hard!” Mahiru put as much energy and enthusiasm as she could into her answer. “It’s late now, so you mustn’t shout,” chided Miss Koyuki. But Mahiru grinned broadly and embraced the fleeting hope that if she tried her hardest, she might earn the attention of her parents. She was looking forward to her cooking lessons. Well, the story doesn’t have a particularly happy ending, though. Gazing down at the page filled with scratchy, childish letters, Mahiru let out a very quiet little sigh, so that Amane, sitting beside her, wouldn’t notice. It seemed like the most obvious thing in the world now, but even after Mahiru learned how to cook, her parents never paid her any mind. Rather, even when they had the opportunity to have some slight contact with her, they never showed any interest in asking about it, and she didn’t volunteer to tell them, either. Miss Koyuki had probably kept them informed, so if they had read through her reports properly, they must have at least known that she had learned how to cook. Looking back on things now, Mahiru understood the truth that they must have at least skimmed the letters, but she also knew they never offered any acknowledgment to their young daughter, who was putting in lots of effort, and that was the harsh reality. The shaky words in her diary, blurred by once wet pages, eloquently conveyed the feelings she’d had at that time better than anything else could. …I was young, and foolish. At the time, she had thought if she worked hard, she might get them to pay a little attention to her. From the perspective of present-day Mahiru, who knew about her parents’ attitude and stance toward her, she could declare that the person who had held such hopes was a fool, but she understood perfectly well it would have been impossible for the child Mahiru to have predicted that. As a result, she’d been betrayed by her own naive hopes and had entered her feelings into her diary, crying into it as she wrote. She didn’t enjoy looking through these entries. I got my hopes up all on my own and got my feelings hurt, I made myself cry and suffer all by myself. Miss Koyuki hadn’t lied to her. She had said she was sure Mahiru would learn to make the dishes but had never said a word about being able to get her parents to eat them. Miss Koyuki must have made the expression she did precisely because even she could tell Mahiru’s wish was never going to come true. Miss Koyuki had probably thought that if she’d asked Mahiru’s parents, they would have said something cruel, but Mahiru was still grateful to her. At that time, Miss Koyuki had known her parents but had been nothing more than their employee, and that had probably been all she could say about it. There was no way she could break the heart of someone so young, who still wanted to cling to her mama and papa. Even though she had known the truth, Miss Koyuki must have figured it would be less damaging if Mahiru learned it after she was grown. Thanks to Miss Koyuki’s lessons, Mahiru could cook almost anything. She had developed her skills and could easily prepare dishes she’d never made before, just by looking at a recipe. And that wasn’t all. Miss Koyuki had trained Mahiru in all facets of life, probably out of the kindness of her heart, so Mahiru would be able to live on her own in the future. Miss Koyuki had her own home. To put it simply, she was, in the end, an outsider, and she wasn’t going to be with Mahiru forever. Mahiru was not Miss Koyuki’s child; she was a child Miss Koyuki was looking after as a job. It was exactly because she knew they would part ways someday that she had taught Mahiru things from such a young age, so Mahiru would not struggle later. She had been much more of a parent to Mahiru than Mahiru’s own parents, Mahiru now knew. …I’m truly grateful. Thanks to Miss Koyuki, Mahiru had acquired the skills to live on her own. And she had found someone who meant more to her than anyone else. “I’m sure your cooking will help you find someone who’ll make you happy, Mahiru.” Mahiru recalled the kind and sincere words Miss Koyuki had said to her the one and only time when she stepped out of her role as hired help and dropped her formal way of speaking. I found him, Miss Koyuki. Mahiru had found someone who only had eyes for her, who loved only her, someone who treasured her and wanted to build a happy life with her. As she mused that someday she’d like to go see Miss Koyuki in person and introduce her to Amane, Mahiru traced the tip of her finger over the anguished words her younger self had left behind. “Someday in the future, someone precious will come into your life, someone who only has eyes for you.” Holding back tears as she remembered her younger self confiding in her diary, Mahiru silently encouraged that girl not to give up.