Source
https://kakuyomu.jp/works/822139845923627658/episodes/2912051596072405088
Mashiro came over to the bed.
She was slightly sweaty, and her hair was, unusually, a mess.
“Why are you here, Mashiro…?”
“…Well, I was bored. I stopped by on my way home. See? I’m so sweet, aren’t I?”
“…So you came here in a hurry.”
“Huh?! N-no, that’s not—”
Realizing her hair was a mess, she frantically ran her fingers through it to fix it.
However, that very action confirmed what I’d said, and Mashiro, realizing this, suddenly stopped.
“……It’s nothing. I just felt like running a bit.”
“W-well, that’s a bit of a stretch, isn’t it?”
“Huh!! …A sick person shouldn’t pick on a healthy one, you know.”
Mashiro muttered, her lips pursed.
Seeing her like that, I couldn’t help but smile.
“…Thanks, Mashiro.”
“I-I mean…”
Mashiro started to say something, then let out a deep sigh, as if she’d given up.
“It’s rare for Kensuke to get a fever, and there’s probably no one else at home anyway… I just simply felt sorry for him. I imagined my poor childhood friend suffering alone in his room… you know?”
“Huh… but you’re not going to feel sorry for me, are you?”
I asked in my usual tone.
Mashiro clenched the hem of her skirt tightly and muttered.
“……Just for today, I’ll feel sorry for you.”
“Huh……”
The unexpected reply made him let out a gasp.
Mashiro was significantly kinder today than usual.
Seeing her like this, I even began to think that getting a fever had been worth it.
“……W-well, if you look so pitiful, I can’t say anything. So… get well soon.”
“Am I supposed to get over this fever just so Mashiro can snap at me…?”
“You like it when I snap at you, don’t you? More than three meals a day, more than sleep.”
“It doesn’t rank among the three basic human needs…”
“The three basic desires… Huh! F-from Kensuke’s perspective, my snark is basically me, and t-that means it’s a sexual desire…”
“You’re overthinking it. Also, I don’t like your snark.”
Saying that, a thought suddenly crosses my mind.
“…No, maybe there are times when I do like it, though.”
“!!!”
Mashiro quickly steps back.
“Just like Dad, Kensuke has finally been turned into a masochist…”
“I haven’t.”
Wait, Mashiro’s dad really does have a masochistic streak… Well, since he married Mariko san, I guess it’s just inevitable.
“Cough, cough.”
I couldn’t help but start coughing.
Then, Mashiro peered at my face with concern and tucked the blanket back around me.
“Don’t get too excited just because I’m here. You’re sick, so you should just lie down and rest.”
“You’re the one who started talking to me…”
“Shut up.”
She snapped at me, so I quietly kept my mouth shut.
Mashiro snorted and pulled out some sports drinks, energy gels, and other typical get-well gifts from her bag.
“You probably don’t have any of this stuff, do you? Just accept it gratefully—I’ll collect payment when I’m successful.”
“So it’s ‘pay when I’m successful’…”
Seriously, does Mashiro have to throw in a little dig before she’s satisfied?
“So… get well soon.”
“…Got it.”
I downed half the sports drink in one gulp and lay back on the bed.
As mconsciousness began to drift, Mashiro muttered to herself as if talking to no one in particular.
“…Good night, Kensuke.”
Suddenly, I woke up.
It was 6:00 PM.
The room was bathed in a pale orange light, and the peaceful evening hours were flowing by.
“…Wake up, Kensuke.”
A soothing voice came from beside me, and I turned my head.
There was Mashiro, staring at me with a sullen look.
“Mashiro…”
“How are you? Feeling better?”
“Not at all.”
“Are you feeling any better?”
“I still feel terrible.”
“…Don’t get my hopes up.”
“I wasn’t getting hopes up.”
“! …Well, I’m just a kind person.”
Is she maintaining her emotional balance by speaking in such a self-deprecating way?
Well, whatever the case, she’s as cute as can be.
“Have you been nursing me the whole time?”
“Because if I left you alone, you’d probably die in a flash.”
“What kind of reason is that?”
“Does it really matter what the reason is? …Don’t ask.”
Once again, Mashiro won’t tell me.
…She really is a pain.
“…I appreciate it, but… it’d be bad if I passed it on.”
“Huh? What? Are you telling me to go home, Kensuke?”
“It’d be a disaster if I passed it on to Mashiro, right? Besides, it’ll probably go away if I just sleep it off…”
“I’m not going home.”
“…Huh?”
“I’m not going home.”
Mashiro mutters, turning her back on me.
I could sense her determination not to say another word.
“Besides, your cold seems kind of weak. It doesn’t have enough strength to pass on to me, does it? So there’s absolutely no need to worry. After all, your cold is a pushover.”
“Hey, don’t make fun of my cold.”
“What’s the point of defending the cold…”
“What’s the point of insulting my cold…”
Honestly, I’m the one who’s exasperated here.
“Anyway, it’s utterly presumptuous of Kensuke to be worrying about me right now. Just shut up and go to sleep.”
“…Alright.”
I decided to just go along with it and let Mashiro take care of me.
Even though I’m worried about Mashiro, she’s the one who heals me.
Maybe I’m already stuck in a nasty swamp I can’t escape from.
“Are you hungry?”
“…Yeah.”
“Okay. Got it.”
She gave a short reply and left the room.
—Thirty minutes later.
The moment the door opened, a delicious, appetizing aroma wafted in.
“Is that…”
“Rice porridge. The kind with egg in it that you like, Kensuke.”
“Rice porridge…”
Suddenly, a vivid memory from the past came flooding back.
When I was little, Mashiro took care of me when I had a fever just like this.
Back then, she made rice porridge for me together with Mariko-san.
And now, in my second year of high school, all over again…
“Mashiro, you don’t usually cook…”
“There’s a big difference between not doing it and not being able to do it. …Well, if I had to choose, I’d say I’m closer to not being able to do it.”
“You’re being honest.”
Mashiro sat down in a chair and placed the rice porridge on the low table next to the bed.
“Did you make this with Mariko san?”
“…What era are you talking about? I can make this much on my own now.”
“…I see.”
“Why are you looking so pleased? You’re Kensuke, after all—don’t give me that look of a father rejoicing in his daughter’s growth.”
“That’s a spot-on analogy…”
But deep down, the feeling is surely the same.
just… hopelessly happy.
“It’s not often I go out of my way like this for you, you know? So… eat this and get your strength back quickly. Got it?”
“…Yes, I understand.”
The aroma wafting past his nose stirs his hunger, and he forces his heavy body up to pick up a spoon.
“Itadakimasu.”
Steaming hot, rising steam.
I scoop up some of the soft, thick porridge and takes a bite…
“!”
“…Ah, I can’t guarantee the taste. Once it’s in your stomach, it’s all the same anyway, and I don’t usually cook… Sure, there’s no doubt Mom’s is better, but they say it’s the thought that counts with things like this, and besides…”
“……It’s delicious. It’s the best… I’ve ever had.”
“!!! …You’re exaggerating, really.”
Somehow, my chest feels warm, and I feel like I’m going to cry.
I’m sure it tasted just as gentle that day, too.
“It’s delicious. Really delicious.”
“……There’s more, so don’t be shy. Just ask for seconds.”
It tasted so gentle.
I had two servings of rice porridge and rested.
But my fever showed no signs of going down.
“Cough, cough.”
My cough wouldn’t stop, my throat hurt, and now I even had a headache.
Between the fatigue and my high fever, my consciousness was hazy.
“Kensuke…”
Mashiro was by my bedside, continuing to nurse me.
Just that made me feel a little better.
I glanced at Mashiro.
It wasn’t her usual queenly expression, glaring at me as she usually does; she was looking at me with genuine concern.
I found that side of Mashiro unbearably endearing.
In my hazy state of consciousness, the thoughts I’d been mulling over kept swirling around in my head.
The two times I’d slept with Mashiro out of sheer stubbornness.
The time she kissed me while I was asleep.
But the fact that she says she hates me.
It’s clearly beyond my ability to handle, and it’s not a situation I can do anything about.
…No, I never had any control over Mashiro to begin with.
Mashiro was always walking ahead of me.
She’s by my side now, though…
Oh, come to think of it, we held hands the other day, too.
When I think about it now, it doesn’t make any sense… but I was happy. And I’m still happy now.
“Haa… haa…”
My body feels hot, so I casually slip my right hand out from under the covers.
It lands right in front of Mashiro’s eyes. She hesitates for a moment—then touches my hand.
“…………”
She wraps both of her hands around mine, holding them as if to cradle them.
Her hands are slender, cool to the touch, and soft. They say a person’s hands reflect who they are, and these were hands that perfectly suited Mashiro.
Once again, all sorts of emotions well up inside me.
Mashiro really is cute… I don’t want her to hate me.
I don’t want us to be apart, and even though it’s a hassle, I don’t want her to have to deal with other people. I want that to be my problem alone. I want it to be just me.
It feels kind of strange.
But at the same time, I don’t really understand it.
In my hazy state of mind, everything melts and blends together. The boundaries are blurring.
“Kensuke…”
Mashiro gazes at me with concern.
My right hand, clasped in hers.
The afternoon sun streaming through the window.
The room filled with pale orange light.
“Mashiro…”
I didn’t know what was going on anymore.
So I think that’s why I said the last words that remained.
“Mashiro, I… love you. I… love you.”
The words slipped out as if I were clinging to something.
…Ah, that’s exactly it. There’s no other way to put it. Because… no, that’s why,
—I was hopelessly, utterly, madly in love with you.
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