Ayanokōji glanced at her, already sensing that she was trying to fish for something. He had cleaned up a bit, but nothing out of the ordinary, just making sure things were in their place before heading out. Still, the way Ichika was probing hinted at her playful curiosity.
"I tidy up regularly," he replied calmly, walking over to the kitchen to unload the bags filled with cooking utensils and ingredients they had just purchased.
"Is that so?" Ichika mused, stepping deeper into his room. She brushed her fingers over the back of a chair and then turned toward him with a teasing smile. "Or did you have a girl here yesterday and cleaned up to hide the evidence?"
Ayanokōji didn't miss a beat. "I don't have any close female friends who'd visit my room, let alone leave something behind that I'd need to clean up."
Ichika raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced by his composed response. "Oh? That's strange. Because from what I've heard, you've got quite a few admirers among the second-year and even third-year girls."
'She's definitely been asking around about me,' Ayanokōji noted silently, his suspicions growing. It was peculiar that Ichika, someone he had only met a day before, already knew so much about him—details that even some of his own classmates weren't aware of. She'd clearly made an effort to gather information about him.
He put down the ingredients on the counter, choosing not to react visibly to her remark. "People say a lot of things."
Ichika stepped closer, her eyes narrowing slightly, as though she was trying to read him. "I guess you're right. But it's interesting. I've spoken to many of the upperclassmen, and a lot of them had very... positive things to say about you. Especially the girls." She paused, watching for any reaction from him, though his face remained as unreadable as ever.
"Is that why you decided to have me cook for you?" Ayanokōji asked, deflecting her probing by steering the conversation back toward their current arrangement. "To see if their stories are true?"
Ichika smiled, walking over to the couch and sitting down. She crossed her legs, casually leaning back as if she owned the place. "Maybe," she replied, her voice light but laced with a teasing undertone. "Or maybe I'm just curious to see what you're really like. It's not every day I meet someone who can keep their cool around me."
He didn't respond immediately, focusing instead on preparing the ingredients. 'So, she's trying to figure me out. But why? What's her goal here?'
Ichika continued to watch him silently for a moment before speaking again. "You know, Ayanokōji-senpai, people like us—those who keep their true selves hidden—aren't all that common. It's why I find you so interesting."
"And what makes you think we're alike?" Ayanokōji asked, his tone still calm but his mind now sharper, analyzing every word she said.
Ichika uncrossed her legs and leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. "Just a feeling. I've met a lot of people at this school, and most of them are easy to read. But you... I can't quite get a handle on you." She tilted her head slightly, her smile softening. "You're different. And I like that."
'So, she sees me as a puzzle,' he thought, 'but she's also hiding her own motives. There's more to her than what she's letting on.'
"I'm just a normal student," Ayanokōji replied, his voice neutral.
"Sure," Ichika laughed softly, clearly unconvinced. "You keep telling yourself that, Ayanokōji-senpai." She stood up and walked toward him, her steps slow and deliberate. "But I'll figure you out eventually."
Her words hung in the air, creating a tension between them that Ayanokōji could sense. She was trying to get under his skin, to see if she could rattle him, but Ayanokōji had no intention of giving her what she wanted. Instead, he turned his attention back to the task at hand.
"Let's focus on the meal for now," he said calmly, setting the cutting board on the counter and beginning to chop the vegetables with precision. "You said you wanted something special, right?"
Ichika's eyes followed his movements, and for a moment, she seemed to let go of her teasing demeanor. She stepped back, giving him space, but her curiosity was still evident in her gaze. "I did. Impress me, Ayanokōji-senpai."
As he worked, the sound of the knife against the cutting board filled the room, a rhythmic and soothing noise. Ichika leaned against the counter, watching him closely, her earlier playfulness giving way to something more contemplative.
"You're really good at this," she remarked after a while, her tone more genuine now. "I didn't expect you to be so skilled."
"I've had practice," Ayanokōji replied simply, focusing on his task. 'It's easier to keep her talking than to let her pry into my thoughts.'
Ichika remained quiet for a few moments, as if weighing her next words carefully. "Do you ever get tired of it?" she asked suddenly, her voice softer than before.
Ayanokōji glanced at her, curious about the sudden shift in her tone. "Tired of what?"
"Keeping up appearances," she replied, her gaze distant as she spoke. "Pretending to be something you're not. It must be exhausting."
'She's projecting,' Ayanokōji thought. 'She's talking about herself now, not just me.'
"It's not so hard," he said after a brief pause, returning to his cooking. "Once you get used to it."
Ichika chuckled lightly, though there was no humor in her eyes. "You make it sound so simple. But I guess that's what makes you different from everyone else, doesn't it?"
Ayanokōji didn't respond, letting the silence fill the room once more. He could tell that Ichika was someone who wore a mask, just like him. But unlike him, she seemed to struggle with it, as if the weight of her facade was something she wanted to shed but couldn't.
As the meal neared completion, the smell of the food began to fill the room, and Ichika's mood lightened again. "It smells amazing," she said, walking over to the table where Ayanokōji had already set out a plate for her. "You might just win me over with this, Ayanokōji-senpai."
He placed the finished dish in front of her, stepping back to observe her reaction. "Try it."
Ichika picked up the fork and took a bite, her expression thoughtful as she chewed slowly. After a few seconds, she smiled. "Not bad," she said, setting the fork down and looking up at him. "In fact, it's really good. You've surprised me."
"I'm glad you like it," Ayanokōji replied, though he remained as calm as ever.
Ichika leaned back in her chair, her eyes never leaving his. "You know, Ayanokōji-senpai, I wasn't sure what to expect when I asked you to cook for me. But I think I made the right choice."
Ayanokōji met her gaze, still trying to decipher her true intentions. 'She's playing a game, but I'm not sure what the rules are yet.'
"Are you satisfied?" he asked, his tone neutral.
Ichika smiled again, though this time it was softer, less teasing. "For now," she replied. "But I think I'll be coming back for more."
Ayanokōji didn't respond, knowing that this was just the beginning. Ichika was someone who enjoyed pushing boundaries, testing limits. And while she hadn't managed to rattle him yet, he had no doubt that she would keep trying.
As she finished her meal, the silence between them felt charged, as if both were waiting for the other to make a move. But Ayanokōji remained patient, letting her take the lead, knowing that whatever her game was, he would eventually figure it out.
For now, though, he would let things play out as they were.
~~
A/N: Check out my new original novel Harem Master: Seduction System. If you like harem stories with a Harem God System, you will love it. Check it out.