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THE last Saturday in June, Lady Chouko and I made our way to the designated location. Due to the rain preventing us from holding our picnic outside that Saturday, at Mochizuki’s insistence, we instead borrowed a corner of the café.
There had been no classes that day, which meant we unfortunately had to ask the café to open on their day off. I felt a little guilty.
“Finally, we get to enjoy your cooking,” Shimozuru said with a grin even wider than usual.
“Oh, well, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you won’t be having Urara’s home cooking today. Mine and Aritomo’s will have to do,” Lady Chouko responded flippantly.
“Chouko, you’re so mean,” Shimozuru said, then stuck his tongue out at me. I thought Lady Chouko’s cooking would be just fine. Oh, and, uh, Aritomo’s too.
“Now then, let’s go ahead and start lunch, shall we?” Izayoi said, once everyone but Shinmyou was present.
Shinmyou was not present today, likely because he had been told to stay away from me.
I asked them not to make such a big deal of it, as he was their friend, but Lady Chouko insisted that she couldn’t forgive him. Even Mochizuki apologized to me on his behalf, so I felt that really was more than enough, but I couldn’t seem to convince her.
“Well, Aritomo, you’re up first. Is that all right?”
“Yes. Well, go on. Enjoy,” she said, placing a sandwich bento basket for one in front of Shimozuru, who was judging this time, then placing a much larger portion in front of Mochizuki and the others and opening her arms to urge them to eat.
“A panini. And it has salad and fruit as well.”
She had prepared a colorful, impressive Italian-style lunch, likely the result of learning from an Italian chef. The panini wasn’t filled with merely the standard ham and cheese, but with rich shrimp, avocado, and roast beef. It was stuffed to the brink and delicious.
Mochizuki and Mikazuki seemed to like it, too. Watching them devour theirs was amusing.
“Yeah, this is good,” Shimozuru said, turning to Aritomo. A satisfied, bashful grin spread across her face. It was almost cute.
To avoid getting full, Shimozuru moved on to Lady Chouko’s lunch after a quick taste of Aritomo’s.
Lady Chouko’s bento box was wrapped in a cloth with a neat hexagonal pattern. I was thinking about how refined her taste was when she suddenly whispered in my ear:
“Let’s leave the...Black-Legged Sloth, was it? For our next private picnic. Hope you don’t mind me using this cloth for now.”
The way she said it made it sound as if it was our special secret. I was so flustered, I almost fell out of my chair. She giggled mischievously. As she unwrapped a large, multi-tiered bento box for the others, I found myself wanting to get back at her.
“You sure are calm, Chouko,” I said, my words falling flat. Perhaps I shouldn’t have tried so hard to tease her back, as she made a sour face.
“I’m not calm. I’m actually a bundle of nerves.”
With that, she brought the bento over.
I hadn’t realized how much she cared about the cooking contest.
After she had passed out everyone’s food, I readily apologized for not understanding her feelings, but she merely responded “...I guess you really don’t get me after all” in a rough tone that was so unlike her normal delicate speech patterns, it threw me.
Before I had time to puzzle it out, I was distracted by everyone shouting “Bon appétit!”
I wondered if they would like it. At Lady Chouko’s request, we made only items that were popular in the Tendou household, but I worried over whether the foods would suit their palates.
The onigiri was a bit ostentatious—covered in salmon and sliced coleseed greens with wakame and small fish—and there was karaage, sweet tamagoyaki, meatballs, broccoli with sesame sauce, and sliced carrots, all creating a nice balance.
Even on looks alone, there was no comparison with Aritomo’s bento. Perhaps we should have used cross-shaped separators instead? Even though I was Aritomo’s partner, I didn’t want Lady Chouko to lose.
Seemingly concerned about my worried expression, Lady Chouko patted my shoulder.
“It’s all right. It came out very good. And no matter what happens, I was able to learn what your family likes to eat, so I’m quite satisfied.”
It almost sounded as if...
“Oh my, it almost sounds as if you’re trying to marry into my family,” I said with a giggle. Lady Chouko peered at me, her eyes lighting up as if she had just thought of something clever.
“Good idea, Urara. What if I married y...”
“Hey! You two! We’d like to go ahead and announce the results!” Shimozuru cut in loudly before Lady Chouko could finish.
Everyone was glaring at us as if we were holding them up. I apologized but thought I heard someone angrily clicking their tongue next to me. It couldn’t have been Lady Chouko, could it? I was lost in my thoughts as the contest moved on. Before I knew it, it was time for the results.
“And the winner of the cooking challenge is...” he paused, turning to Aritomo. Of course. I clenched my skirt and looked down.
“Chouko!”
At first, I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. On top of that, he said he was impressed she had managed to cook so well. My eyes met hers.
“Congratulations, Chouko,” I said, so genuinely happy for her that the words just slipped out. Lady Chouko threw her arms around me without hesitation and squeezed me tight.
“It’s because of you, Urara,” she said in a cheerful tone. I was glad she felt that way, but she was closer than I was comfortable with. Too close. Like, zero centimeters close! I tried to pull away to get some breathing room, but she squeezed me harder.
Just as I was about to ask her to give me some space, Aritomo’s shriek ripped through the café.
“You have got to be kidding!!” She rushed Shimozuru the second the words left her lips. “How? I mean, mine looked more impressive and you all seemed to enjoy it more, right? I’m sure it was better. How could I have lost? After everything you all said!”
She was right; it had appeared an easy win for her. But I wondered how the actual taste was. They all seemed to like it. So perhaps it was an issue of preference?
“And not only that, but Tsukuyomi’s bento was all items Urara always makes! And I know for a fact that Urara only makes sweet tamagoyaki. Oboro, I thought you hated sweet things!”
Of course she would recognize my cooking, since she was always snatching food from my lunch.