Fuyuka tried to forcibly leave Asahi’s house, but after another close brush with the floor, combined with the protests of her stomach, she ended up returning to the room as she’d been told earlier. Asahi assumed that she had finally realized her limits by herself; it was certainly not because she made the choice to finally listen to him.
It was pretty obvious that she was not feeling well, so it was shocking to see her try to move in the first place.
“Can I turn around now?”
“Yes, you may.”
He turned around after he heard both her confirmation and the beeping of the electronic thermometer that he’d handed to her. It read 38 degrees—not serious enough to rush her to the hospital, but bad enough to be considered a fever. She’d need more than just willpower alone if she wanted to move on her own as long as this lasted.
“It says 38 degrees right here, and you say you’re fine? As if.”
She looked away, unable to retort. She was quite frail, and it showed.
He sighed and, to break the awkward silence, said, “Well, you’re hungry, aren’t you? I can whip up some gruel in 10 minutes if you want.”
“You are going to cook it?” she asked, eyes wide in astonishment.
“You see anyone else here? What, you don’t trust my cooking skills just ‘cus I’m a guy or something?”
“That’s not what I was implying at all, but...”
She definitely wanted to say something, but the fact of the matter was that she was hungry. Asahi decided to cut her off before she could add anything to her awkward trail-off.
“Then just stay there and relax. I’ll make some for you.”
Maybe not the best way to say it, but I’ve always been blunt with everyone, he thought to himself.
Fuyuka seemed to be pretty blunt herself, regardless. It was a good thing, in his opinion—she wouldn’t misinterpret him this way. Understanding each other without wasting time skirting around hollow exchanges was something they could both appreciate, and that was all he needed to know. She needed his help, and he wanted to provide it. That’s all there was to it.
Maybe other people would view them as incompatible because of that similarity. Contrary to expectations, however, that wasn’t the case at all.
“I’ll leave it to you, then,” she mumbled as Asahi was exiting the room.
He headed toward the kitchen without another word.
✦ ✦ ✦
“Hey, I’m coming in.”
After knocking to announce his arrival, Asahi opened the door. Fuyuka was still in bed, but now was sitting upright. Still, it seemed as if even that was an endeavor for her—her cheeks and forehead were reddened by the fever.
Good thing I called out to her before she went out. Otherwise, she would’ve been in way worse shape compared to now, he mused.
“Here’s the gruel I promised. I don’t know if you have any allergies, or if you like it made a specific way, so...” Asahi trailed off. He’d mainly used eggs, rice, and not much else. It wasn’t very complex purposefully to avoid triggering any sort of allergies she might’ve had. She didn’t respond.
She looked skeptically at the food for a moment. After she ascertained what it was, she nodded and extended her hands in a motion to accept it.
“It’s pretty hot, so be careful.”
He’d made sure to cool the food somewhat after he’d cooked it, but the white and yellow bowl containing the food still had steam rising from it, so he decided to warn her before any accidents could arise. He handed her a spoon, and once she took it, she surveyed the food with more detail.
“What’s wrong? There’s nothing weird in it, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I know that much.”
“Then eat. It’ll be good for you. Focus on getting better,” he admonished, trying to imitate what his grandfather would tell him long ago whenever he fell ill.
She took a few seconds to process what he’d said. After a moment of hesitation, she finally clasped her hands together, ready to eat.
“Thank you for the food,” she said, then spooned some gruel up to her mouth.
Asahi watched her as she ate. He didn’t think that he screwed the dish up—the process was fairly easy, and he had faith in his cooking skills thanks to his parents being chefs. His friends had liked the things he’d cooked in the past. But that didn’t prevent the anxiety creeping up on him—it was her first time trying his food, so he was antsy to hear what she thought of it.
“How is it?” he asked while she was in the middle of eating. He had tried to stay calm, but his nerves ended up getting the better of him. He really felt like he needed to hear her opinion on the matter.
There were only two answers she could give: good or bad. He’d be happy with the former, and dumbfounded with the latter. He waited with bated breath at her response.
“Huh? Why does this...?”
It was an answer he hadn’t expected. Fuyuka was speechless, and tears started to well up in her eyes, then subsequently trickled down her face. She tried fruitlessly to wipe them away with the back of her hands, but she couldn’t stop herself from weeping.
“Is it that bad?”
She shook her head and sniffled, “No, that’s not it.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“It’s just...”
He could barely hear her, but Asahi was able to make out the faint whisper that followed.
“This dish brings back memories.”
He didn’t know what she’d meant by that, but he didn’t think prying any further would be wise. As she continued to wipe her tears, Asahi concluded that the best course of action would be to leave her alone.
✦ ✦ ✦
Her crying wasn't an act—her feelings were genuine.
✦ ✦ ✦
10 minutes had elapsed. Asahi figured it was okay to finally enter the room again. Fuyuka’s eyes were still puffy and red from her crying spell, but she was calmer than before.
“That was quite unsightly of me, crying in front of you.”
“I didn’t see anything, so don’t worry about it.”
“I would appreciate it if that were the case,” she answered.
He looked away and focused his attention on the bowl she had returned, which had been vacated of its contents. She’d polished it off while he was gone.
“It was delicious. Thank you,” she informed him in a cold, calm tone. Her usual demeanor had returned, it seemed.
It was nice to hear that she enjoyed it, at least, and Asahi let out a sigh of relief.
“When are your parents coming back, by the way?”
He was aware he was only taking care of her temporarily. Her parents would have to take over sooner or later. Any way he looked at it, the best option would be to have her parents look after her. That’s how it was for normal families, at least in Asahi’s eyes.
However, he soon realized that his question was a mistake.
“They won’t be returning.”
“So you live alone?”
“That is indeed the case.”
In a way, it made sense in a way to him—of course someone named “The Ice Queen” lived by her lonesome in an expensive apartment. It suited her to a tee.
“Just like me, then.”
“What do you mean?”
“I live alone too.”
He wasn’t a rich kid or anything like that, but it was true that he lived alone, as well.
“You live by yourself in such a large apartment?” she asked dubiously.
“You literally live in the same kind of apartment.”
“Well... Let’s just say I have circumstances.”
“I do too, you know? You could say I’m special.”
Asahi proceeded to explain his reason for living alone.
When he and his parents had moved here, his parents’ restaurant happened to be thriving. After some consideration, both of them had decided it would be better to stay at their old house which was closer to the restaurant. That left Asahi in their new place by himself.
“... Basically, until things calm down over there, I’m in charge of holding the fort down here. I barely use any of the space besides this room, the kitchen, and the bathroom, though.”
Fuyuka silently listened to the whole story. It was only after he’d finished that she chose to speak up.
“It looks as though your parents hold a great deal of trust in you.”
“I guess so.”
Being left alone was actually quite a struggle, considering that he needed to balance his studies, his obligations at school, and maintain the house. He was more or less used to fending for himself even prior to the move, but he still had some trouble with said balance. If he’d ever end up in the same situation as Fuyuka, he’d probably push himself to keep up with his tasks, regardless of whether or not it was painful for him.
When he realized she was in the same boat, it grabbed his attention. He knew how difficult it was to live alone. What sort of special circumstances did she have?
Her mood had visibly worsened when the topic was brought up, so Asahi thought it unwise to delve deeper. It was a personal matter, after all, and she’d likely shy away from him. After he’d said his piece, he left the room once again.