Source
https://kakuyomu.jp/works/2912051597934651646/episodes/2912051598617624047
The warm, faintly sweet aroma of the broth tickled her nostrils.
The rhythmic sound of a knife tapping against the cutting board echoed through the room.
To the young Hirugami Seika, her mother’s back—as she stood in the kitchen wearing an apron—was the most reassuring and secure place in the world.
The meals her mother made were always magically delicious.
Seika loved the time she spent standing in the kitchen with her, learning how to cut vegetables by watching and imitating.
However, that warm, colorful daily life suddenly lost its color from one day to the next.
The sweet scent of dashi gave way to the sharp, cold smell of disinfectant.
The light, rhythmic sound of the knife was replaced by the impersonal, mechanical beep of a heart monitor.
Her mother, lying in a bed in a stark white hospital room, grew smaller and thinner with each passing day.
“I can manage on my own.”
With her small hands, she clasped her mother’s bony, cold hands so tightly it hurt.
If she showed her tears, her mother wouldn’t be able to rest peacefully.
So Seika put on a brave face and forced a smile.
“I can do everything on my own now—cooking, cleaning, even laundry.”
She had perfected the curry recipe her mother had taught her.
Returning to her dark, lonely room no longer made her feel lonely at all.
So, please, she didn’t want her to worry about her.
“So… so please, don’t worry…”
Whether that desperate plea reached her or not, she can’t tell now.
Only her mother’s face, smiling weakly, fades into a pale blur in Seika’s memory.
She felt as if her body were slowly sinking to the very bottom of a deep, deep sorrow.
◇
Hirugami gasped and sat up in bed as if she’d been startled awake.
A cold tear trickled down the corner of her eye, forming a small stain on the sheets.
She must have had a sad dream, yet the very core of that memory had completely slipped away the moment she woke up.
All that remained was a terrible sense of loss, as if something were squeezing the very core of her chest.
In the past, whenever she had a sad dream like this, she would invariably curl up in a dark room, hugging her knees, and cry while thinking of her late mother.
But now, it’s different.
(Achi-kun)
What suddenly popped into her mind was the face of that clumsy boy who seemed to have a detached view of the world.
He was emotionally detached and always gave me the cold shoulder.
Yet, even last night, when Seika nearly fell, he was the first to shield her, going so far as to burn his own hand to save her.
Just remembering those calm eyes and that gruff yet gentle voice makes my frozen heart grow warm, as if by magic.
Her sadness melted away completely, replaced by a soft, sweet warmth filling the depths of her chest.
Seika wagged her invisible tail and let a lazy smile spread across her face as she lay on the bed.
(I really like him.)
Fully aware that she was sinking deeper into the bottomless swamp that was him, Seika slowly stood up.
She stands in front of the full-length mirror to change into her school uniform.
Reflected in the mirror are her loosely curled milky-blonde hair and her large, well-developed breasts that are impossible to ignore.
Suddenly, Seika’s hand, which had been about to button her blouse, stops dead in its tracks.
(How can I become Achi-kun’s girlfriend?)
All boys must like big breasts like these.
Yet, not once had Houtarou’s calm eyes ever scanned Seika’s body with a sexual gaze.
Seika swallowed hard and, with a slightly trembling hand, unbuttoned the top button of her blouse.
The cleavage at her chest was emphasized more vulnerably than usual.
Truth be told, she hated exposing her skin like this.
Because she’d be seen as a lewd sexual object by all sorts of men.
But with Houtarou, it’s okay.
Or rather, she even finds herself wanting him to look.
(What kind of naughty thoughts am I having?)
Her face felt like it was on fire from her own lewd fantasies, so Seika slapped her bright red cheeks with both hands.
She psyches herself up, reapplies her lipstick, grabs her school bag, and bursts out of the room with a burst of energy.
She stands in front of the door next door and clears her throat softly.
Summoning her courage, she presses the intercom button.
A cold, electronic “Ding-dong” echoes through the apartment building’s common hallway.
When the door opens, she’ll start with a beaming smile and pretend it’s a coincidence.
Then, come up with the perfect excuse for why they should go to school together.
She ran through the scenario in her head, waiting with her invisible tail wagging.
But even after ten seconds, then twenty, there was no sign of the door opening.
Not a single sound of daily life could be heard from inside the apartment.
(Huh. He’s not coming out. I wonder what’s going on.)
It’s only been a day since yesterday.
Could it be that the burn he got when he shielded him has gotten worse?
Or could he have collapsed from a sudden illness in his apartment?
The worst possible scenarios flashed through her mind, and the blood drained from Seika’s face in an instant.
Her intense maternal instincts pushed past her limits, and Seika began pounding on the steel door with all her might.
“Achi-kun! Are you okay? Achi-kun!”
She pounded on the door relentlessly, without holding back.
When there was still no response, Seika pulled out her smartphone with trembling hands.
In a panic, she pressed the call button on the messaging app and held it to her ear.
After a few rings, the call connected with a click.
“Achi-kun! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Are you sick?”
“Huh? I’m already at school.”
“Oh.”
Seika, who had been screaming through her tears, froze in place.
Houtarou’s voice coming through the speaker was terrifyingly flat—just like always.
It was the kind of time when a serious student like him would have long since arrived at school and been reading in the classroom.
Gaaaah.
In an instant, the blood in Seika’s entire body boiled.
She had been panicking all by herself in the empty hallway, banging on the door like a madwoman.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing at all, hyuu.”
She hung up the call with a voice that had completely cracked and turned into a squeak, then collapsed right where she stood.
Overcome with shame, she collapsed to her knees, hugging her head as she curled up into a ball.
(What a blunder. What an absolute blunder!)
Even with a brain boasting an IQ of 530,000, this was a colossal blunder beyond recovery.
The innocent gal writhed in agony, all alone in the cold hallway.
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