Anyone who's ever cooked knows that preparing a meal in a small space can be quite uncomfortable.
Utaha was now facing this exact problem. The cutting board was tiny, barely bigger than her 14-inch laptop, and if she wasn't careful, the chopped vegetables would roll off onto the floor.
Since there wasn't a specific container for the cut vegetables, she had to place them on plates.
Then, when it was time to light the stove, things got even more awkward.
She twisted the knob, and while the gas hissed out, the stove wouldn't ignite. She tried several times, but without success.
"Oh, the stove's igniter seems to be broken. You have to use this."
Chisato took out a lighter from a cupboard above, leaned in, and lit the gas, successfully starting the flame.
"That's really dangerous."
"You get used to it. If you move quickly, it's fine."
Chisato put the lighter back.
"How about I do it? I know you're good at cooking, but the space is too small, and it seems like you're not used to it."
"No, just watch me. If I've started something, I'll finish it."
Utaha's competitive spirit flared up.
In the past, she wouldn't have been so focused on cooking, but after playing the role of a wife twice, she now understood how much a woman who can cook scores points in the eyes of a man.
And just as she thought, it was working.
Even though Chisato knew that Utaha's visit wasn't purely spontaneous, he couldn't help but feel an attraction as he watched her busying herself at the tiny stove in his small apartment.
A girl smiling and cooking for you while wearing an apron—it was hard not to be charmed.
"Chisato."
"Hmm?"
"Now that I think about it, I don't know why you're living alone."
"There's no particular reason. I just wanted to live on my own when I started high school. My family couldn't say no, so they agreed and rented this small apartment for me."
"They send me money each month."
"I see. I had a similar thought once, but my parents didn't agree."
"Well, you're a girl after all."
"But after I graduate next year, they probably won't object if I bring it up again. By then, I might rent a proper two-bedroom apartment and maybe find a roommate to help split the rent."
After sautéing the onions and adding water, Utaha tossed the remaining ingredients into the pot and covered it, leaving it to cook for a while.
She turned to look at Chisato. She had mentioned finding a roommate to gauge his reaction.
But she was destined to be disappointed.
Chisato simply smiled and said that sounded great.
Utaha felt a bit deflated.
From a girl's perspective, inviting a guy to be a roommate, even if she liked him, seemed a bit too forward.
But ever since stepping into this tiny apartment, Utaha had felt a constant wave of sympathy for Chisato.
In her opinion, though this living environment wasn't terrible, it was far from ideal.
If she could, she really wanted to rent a larger apartment for him, one with better furnishings, appliances, lighting, and ventilation, just to make him more comfortable.
The light novels Utaha wrote under her pen name, Kasumi Utako, were steadily increasing in sales, and her income was rising as well.
She was now a bit of a rich girl, so renting a better apartment wouldn't be much of a financial burden.
She would even be happy to do it for Chisato.
But such a direct approach would be inappropriate.
Considering Chisato's personality, he wouldn't accept such a proposal without saying anything, which is why she subtly tested his thoughts by framing it as her own idea.
Yet, he didn't seem to notice, or maybe he understood and simply wasn't interested, so he played dumb.
Either way, Utaha's plan was foiled.
Forget it, she thought.
'I'll think about it later. I can't forget the main reason I came here tonight.'
Utaha lifted the lid of the pot, and the enticing aroma of curry wafted out.
"It's missing a bit of seasoning. I wonder how it'll taste."
She pretended to be concerned.
Chisato leaned in to take a look.
"It looks great—perfect color and aroma. It definitely looks appetizing. I'll need to bring extra rice tomorrow."
"Let's taste it first. If it's not good, I'll adjust the flavor."
"I don't think that's necessary."
Despite his words, when Utaha blew lightly on a small piece of chicken and brought it to his mouth, Chisato opened his mouth to take a bite.
"How is it?"
"It's really good. No need to adjust the seasoning."
"Really?"
Utaha, still doubtful, tasted the broth herself from the same spoon Chisato had just used.
"Just barely passable."
Chisato's gaze made her body heat up slightly.
After cleaning up the stove, the two returned to sit on the bed.
"As expected, cooking while wearing so much is a bit hot. I've worked up a sweat."
Utaha looked at Chisato while fanning herself with her hand, tugging at the collar of her dress.
"Do you have any tissues?"
"I'll get you some."
After taking the tissues Chisato handed her, Utaha pulled out a few and wiped the nonexistent sweat from her neck and chest.
"Can you do me a favor?"
"What is it?"
"Here…"
Utaha leaned forward, closing the gap between them until only a fist's width separated them. But her leg, wrapped in black stockings, "accidentally" brushed against Chisato's thigh.
She tilted her head back, exposing her pale neck, and pointed to the center of it.
"While I was sautéing the onions, I think some oil splattered here. It hurts a bit—can you check if it's red?"
Utaha's usually clear voice now trembled slightly, her eyes glossy with a hint of confusion.
"…"
Chisato's Adam's apple bobbed up and down.
'The dagger's finally out of the sheath, huh? I knew this woman didn't come here late at night with pure intentions.'
But seeing how far she was going, it would be rude to keep acting distant.
He extended his finger and gently touched her neck, pretending to check for any redness from the supposed oil burn.
"Is it here?"
"Mm…"
Utaha's voice was barely audible, and then she slowly closed her eyes.
"It hurts... Can you blow on it for me?"
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