Asahi contemplated returning to the living room to work on those yet-unfinished problems, but he soon dismissed that plan. He didn’t feel very confident about leaving Fuyuka in the kitchen alone. Plus, it was so out of character to witness someone as regal and stoic as her washing the dishes that he felt the need to stay, even if he knew it probably wasn’t as big of a deal as he was making it out to be.
“Can I ask you something, Himuro?”
“As long as I can—or wish to—answer it.”
“Do you normally cook food for yourself?”
Fuyuka didn’t reply with words—instead, she ended up dropping one of the glasses she was in the process of cleaning. Fortunately, it wasn’t from a high distance, and it was made out of plastic either way. Was the question really that big of a deal to her?
“Why would you ask me something like that?” she shakily replied as she scooped up the errant glass from the sink. Her face was flushed red yet again.
“I was just curious; that’s all.”
“I invoke my right to remain silent.”
“Oh, sure...”
Tch. Shouldn’t have asked her that.
Asahi decided to stay in the kitchen and observe her as she cleaned the rest of the dishes. He wanted to speak up a couple of times and comment on her technique, but he figured it was best to hold his tongue while she was working. In his eyes—as someone who knew his way around a kitchen—Fuyuka was clearly a novice. Although she garnered a reputation for being the perfect girl at school, it was possible she didn’t know how to cook at all. It was that gap in preconception and reality that intrigued him.
“I mean, there’s no need to get so embarrassed. You don’t have to hide it—there’re tons of girls out there who wouldn’t know a spatula from a whisk.”
“It’s not that I can’t cook, mind you.”
Neither of them was particularly old-fashioned or bound to traditional gender roles when it came to aspects like cooking. Just as men who could cook didn’t put Fuyuka off, in turn, women who couldn’t didn’t put Asahi off. Who cared if The Ice Queen was an accident waiting to happen in the kitchen? Nobody was perfect—everyone had their own weak points.
And although Asahi did care to some extent about the reason behind her lack of culinary proficiency, he decided not to broach it. He remained silent as he watched her finish the dishes.
As she continued her task, she grew tired before long. It wasn’t a surprise to Asahi, considering she wasn’t the most experienced. He was worried she’d end up making a mistake and injuring herself, so he decided to try and step in.
“I’ll help you—”
“I’ll do it. You go back to the living room and finish your questions, Kagami.”
As if the very concept of being offered help had been the last straw for her, Fuyuka finally shut Asahi down and demanded he leave. She was dead set on getting everything done by herself, so the best course of action was to concede.
Trying to be helpful all the time is pretty annoying, so whatever, Asahi thought as he watched Fuyuka struggling to scrub the stubborn scraps of curry off the plates.
It was weird to see someone who was so hellbent on keeping others at a distance, but also so dead set on repaying a debt. It hadn’t even been that big of a deal for him personally. The only reason he could think of as an explanation for her behavior was that she was desperately trying to pay him back so she would never have to interact with him again. She was reluctant to open herself up even the slightest bit. Maybe she simply wanted to return to her old self, in which she sealed off her heart to everyone else and kept people at bay. It could be that she wanted to return to her previous relationship with him—where they were essentially strangers who simply happened to live next to each other. Maybe that was why she was going through all of the trouble of helping a classmate and neighbor she barely knew.
“I mean... all that matters is that you have meals to eat in the end, right? It’s not a big deal if you can cook properly or not.”
“What are you going on about?” she replied curtly.
“Nothing. Just something I wanted to say. I’ll shut up and leave now.”
He didn’t care if he came off as some sort of sanctimonious asshole to her; he’d felt so concerned about her for a moment that he’d felt something compelling him to tell her.
“I’d rather not have you collapse like you did the other day again,” he added. “‘You gotta make sure you eat your share...’ Well, my grandpa used to tell me something like that, anyway. I’m just parroting him at this point.”
He felt a pang of embarrassment after repeating his grandpa’s somewhat-coarse words, but it wasn’t like it really mattered—she’d forget about his words by tomorrow, anyway.
He could envision how the rest of the night would go: Fuyuka would assist him with the remainder of the equations and make a quick departure following that.
As he endeavored through his math problems alone, he happened to notice something—or, more accurately, the absence of something. There were no more sounds coming from the kitchen. When he looked up, he saw Fuyuka entering the room.
“I’ll keep your words in mind,” she said with a warm, bright smile.
This was the first time he’d ever seen The Ice Queen smile. It made his heart race, and he was thoroughly captivated by her for a brief moment.
“Is there something on my face?” she asked.
“Oh, no... I was just thinking that this is the first time I’ve seen you smile.”
Fuyuka quickly shifted back to her frigid poker face and serious demeanor. Unfortunately, she couldn’t hide the red color that emanated from her cheeks.
“I can smile just like anyone else can. Didn’t you know that?”
“Oh, really now? That’s news to me. You always look so stern at school. You’ve never smiled once.”
“What sort of impression do you have of me?” she replied with an exasperated sigh.
The sort of image where there’s a reason everyone calls you “The Ice Queen,” Himuro...
Fuyuka was someone that, due sheer coincidence, had revealed to Asahi that she was capable of conversing with others, having emotions, and even smiling like the average person. The thought that she’d soon repay her debt and revert to ignoring him made Asahi sad. At the same time, he felt that he’d been treated to the rare occasion of seeing her smile, and that alone had been more than worth it.