Chapter 3

…Well, I guess she just feels guilty over what happened. Normally, it would be unthinkable to follow a stranger into his apartment. It was too dangerous; she could be attacked or something. Mahiru taking such a chance on Amane must’ve meant she was worried about him. Maybe his apparent lack of interest helped put her at ease. Either way, Amane didn’t think it mattered. He was certain Mahiru was only helping him out of a sense of obligation. Amane’s mind, still slightly delirious with fever, continued to wander as he waited. Then came a hesitant knock at the door. “…I’ve brought the porridge.” At the sound of Mahiru’s concerned voice from the next room, Amane remembered again that he had loosened his clothing in order to take his temperature. “I haven’t taken my temperature yet,” he called back. “I thought I told you to take it while I was out of the room, though…” “Sorry, I spaced out.” Amane apologized meekly and stuck the thermometer in his armpit. After a few moments, it let out a muffled electronic beep. When he yanked it out and held it up to look at the screen, it showed a temperature of 38.3 degrees Celsius. It wasn’t bad enough to go to the hospital, but it was still pretty high. “Okay, I’m finished,” Amane said as he put his shirt back on. Mahiru entered with obvious aprehension, carrying a tray with a lidded bowl resting on it. She looked relieved, probably because Amane had fixed his clothes. “What was your temperature?” she asked. “Thirty-eight point three. I’ll be better after I take some medicine and get some more sleep.” “…Over-the-counter medicine only treats the symptoms and won’t eliminate the virus itself, you know. You need to rest properly and let your immune system do its job.” Such harsh scolding, even if it was coming from a place of concern, embarrassed Amane. Mahiru sighed in exasperation and placed the tray and bowl on the side table, then opened the lid. Inside was rice porridge with pickled plums. It looked severely watered down—maybe 70 percent porridge to 30 percent water. Perhaps Mahiru had done that intentionally because she’d thought it’d be easier on Amane’s stomach. She’d likely added the plums because of their reputation as being good for fighting colds. The dish wasn’t steaming, but it gave off a faint warmth. Amane guessed that Mahiru hadn’t brought it straight from the stove but had instead made sure to let it to cool down first. Ignoring Amane as he stared at the porridge, Mahiru ladled some into a smaller bowl with a clearly practiced hand. She had broken the pickled fruit up a bit for him and had apparently even neatly removed the pits. The red of the plums and the white of the rice mixed easily. “Here you go. It shouldn’t be too hot.” “Mm, thank you.” Mahiru gave Amane a puzzled look as he received the bowl, but then he merely stared at the porridge while his spoon hovered over it. “…What is it; you want me to feed you? Sorry, but that’s not on the menu,” Mahiru asserted. “Nobody asked for that, okay? It’s just… So I guess you can cook, too, huh?” Amane asked. “I live alone, so of course I can.” The girl’s words stung, a heavy reminder of Amane’s own domestic failures. “But before you learn to cook, you should learn to clean up your room, Fujimiya.” “Yes, ma’am…” Mahiru had quickly and thoroughly put him in his place. Amane grumbled quietly and scooped up some of the porridge, stuffing the spoon into his mouth in a bid to end the conversation. The flavor of the lightly salted rice spread across his tongue as he ate the porridge. The mellow sourness of the pickled plums pulled it all together. It was truly a dish with a perfect balance of flavors. Amane didn’t like pickled plums that were too salty, but these had a milder taste and a bit of sweetness. They were actually a favorite of his. Often, he liked to top green tea rice with pickled plums. “It’s good.” “Thanks for saying so. Though, really, once you’ve tasted one rice porridge, I think you’ve probably tasted them all.” Mahiru’s answer appeared indifferent, save for the very slightest beginnings of a smile. Without meaning to, Amane found himself staring at the beautiful girl’s relieved expression. Something about it seemed quite different from the more outgoing smile he occasionally caught her wearing at school. “…Fujimiya?” Mahiru asked. “Sorry, it’s nothing,” he answered. Amane thought it a shame that such a beautiful smile had been so fleeting, though he kept the musing to himself. Instead, he shoveled spoonful after spoonful of porridge into his mouth. “…Anyhow, you rest today. And make sure to replenish your fluids. If you need to wipe away sweat, use this. I’ve put water into your washbowl, so make sure to wet it and wring it out before wiping, okay?” After Amane had eaten, Mahiru diligently prepared an unopened sports drink, readied the bowl of water, and laid out a towel and spare cooling sheets. All had been carefully placed on the side table in Amane’s bedroom. There was no way Mahiru was going to stay over at the home of a boy she barely knew. Amane wouldn’t have stood for it if she’d tried. Thus, Mahiru had prepared everything Amane could’ve needed while he rested, and he was grateful for her diligence, though he stared at her the whole time she got everything ready. This is an awful lot just to repay a favor. Once this is over, I guess we won’t have much reason to interact. It’s a one-off thing, a freak occurrence; that’s all. Well, since we won’t be talking ever again, I guess it’s all right to ask about that thing I want to know. Whether from the medicine or his nap, Amane’s head felt clearer, though he was still exhausted. “Hey, there’s something I’ve been wondering…,” he started. “What is it?” Mahiru turned to look at him from where she was setting up all the essentials he’d need. “Why were you sitting out in the rain? Did you have a fight with your boyfriend or something?” The strange behavior that’d kicked off this whole chain of events had been on Amane’s mind since he’d first noticed it. Mahiru had been rocking back and forth on a swing in the pouring rain. What could she have been doing there? It was precisely because Amane had been curious about Mahiru’s slight resemblance to a lost child that he’d offered her his umbrella in the first place. He’d never discovered why she’d been out there in the storm to begin with, however. Amane had thought Mahiru had been waiting for someone, so he’d guessed that there was a boy she was dating, even wondering if perhaps she and her boyfriend had gotten into an argument. In response to Amane’s question, Mahiru looked at him as if she was fed up. “Sorry, but I don’t have a boyfriend, and I have no plans to get one,” she replied. “Huh? Why?” Amane asked almost unconsciously. “Let me ask you, why did you assume I was dating someone?” “With how popular you are, I thought you’d have at least one or two boyfriends.” Something about this back-and-forth made Mahiru seem much more like a normal girl to Amane. She was kind but strong-willed. To other people, though, he was sure she seemed quite different. Mahiru was a beautiful girl who was tidy, sweet, quiet, and humble. Her pretty face, so lovely that she was often called an angel, turned heads wherever she went, and her body was petite but possessed abundant curves. The briefest sight of her instilled a strange, momentary feeling of wanting to protect her. That quality, combined with her excellent sense of style, made her an object of desire for many a schoolboy. On top of all that, her grades kept her at the top of her class, and she was an all-around excellent athlete. What’s more, Amane had just learned firsthand that she was good at cooking, too. That certainly wouldn’t hurt her popularity. Just one glance was enough to know there must have been plenty of guys who were after her, and Amane knew for a fact that quite a few of his own classmates had romantic feelings for Mahiru. She could’ve had her pick of the litter, and it hadn’t occurred to him that she might not be seeing anyone. That was what Amane had meant when he’d said that thing about one or two boyfriends, but the moment she’d heard those words, Mahiru’s expression had stiffened, if only for a moment. “I don’t have a boyfriend, and what’s more, I’m not the kind of girl who would keep the company of several boys at once. It’s absolutely out of the question.” Mahiru’s eyes were so cold, they sent a shiver down Amane’s spine. He realized immediately that he’d stepped on some kind of social land mine. It might have been because of his sickness, but he felt a chill pass over him, and the room seemed drafty all of a sudden. “Sorry, that’s not what I meant. I apologize,” Amane said. “…No, I’m sorry for getting fired up.” Mahiru bowing her head seemed to disperse the cold, tense atmosphere of the room. More than being “fired up,” Mahiru’s icy reply to Amane’s question had been like a blizzard, though he knew better than to point that out. “Anyway, that’s not what was going on at all. I was just trying to cool my head a bit… And I really am sorry that you caught a cold because you were worried about me,” Mahiru explained. “It’s fine. I mean, it was my decision, after all. I feel kind of guilty about all this, actually. I only gave you the umbrella as a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. I’ll try not to bother you once this is all over.” Amane was sure that Mahiru was only there to help out of some sense of obligation, but when she heard what he had to say, she blinked a few times and gave him a curious look. It must have intrigued her to hear that he wouldn’t be troubling her again. “We don’t really have any reason to interact, so it’s not like it’ll be a big deal. I mean, even if you’re the most beautiful girl in our grade, and a genius, and everyone calls you an angel, I wasn’t trying to hook up with you; I swear. You don’t think that this was some kind of scheme or something, do you?” Amane inquired. Mahiru looked away a little awkwardly. A bitter smile spread across her lips, as if she’d been waiting for Amane to say those exact words. Finally, he realized that she wasn’t just acting cagey. Mahiru had probably wound up in that sort of situation a few times before. A guy trying to get in with a beautiful girl by making her feel indebted was, unfortunately, not unheard of. It explained why Mahiru had been so wary of Amane that day in the rain. She hadn’t been upset at him; she’d just been trying to protect herself. “It must be so irritating. Being bothered by guys you don’t even like,” Amane said. “Well, that’s true, but…” Mahiru’s voice trailed off. “Called it,” quipped Amane, a little surprised to hear her admit it. So the quiet, charming, model student, the one everybody makes a big fuss over, the one everybody calls an angel, does have things she doesn’t like. Why, she even gets annoyed from time to time, just like the rest of us mortals. The thought gave Amane the sudden impression that he was seeing the real Mahiru for the first time. Unfortunately, the way she glared back at Amane seemed to suggest that she was really regretting having ever met him. It looked like she resented him for making her reveal how she really felt. Further proof that the angelic honor student has real emotions hidden deep down, Amane thought. “I don’t really see the problem with that,” admitted Amane. “Actually, I’m relieved. It’s nice to hear that the angel finds that stuff just as annoying as normal humans.” “…Please stop calling me that.” Mahiru obviously hated the title others had given her. With disapproval in her eyes, she continued to gaze at Amane. Even her displeasure seemed interesting to Amane, who smiled again and said, “Not to worry, I won’t bother you again without a good reason.” Mahiru’s eyes opened wide as if his declaration had caught her by surprise. With the faintest whisper of a smile crossing her lips, she bowed sharply and left. Amane lay in bed, staring vacantly up at the ceiling while thinking about Mahiru. Even though the medicine had taken effect, he was, unsurprisingly, still feeling sluggish. If he relaxed, sleep would surely claim him in no time at all. He closed his eyes and reflected on the events of the day. No one would ever believe him if he told them that he’d been nursed back to health by an angel with a surprisingly sharp tongue. The day’s events were a secret shared only by Amane and Mahiru. It feels kinda weird to call it a secret. It’s more like it’d be a real pain to explain the whole story. It’s just easier not to tell anybody, that’s all, Amane reasoned. As he slowly lost consciousness, Amane told himself that, when tomorrow came, he and Mahiru would be nothing more than mere acquaintances again.