“I’m truly sorry.”
After breakfast.
Once the two of them were alone in the guest room assigned to Arisa, Yuzuru folded his knees and bowed his head.
“I ended up putting you in a situation where you were forced to cook.”
“Oh, Yuzuru-san. You’re exaggerating. Please stop.”
Her well-shaped face suddenly appeared right in front of him.
Arisa had leaned forward to peer into his face.
Startled, Yuzuru jerked his head up as if he’d jumped back.
“I really don’t mind at all.”
“No, but still…”
“If something this small counts as repaying you, then I’m happy to cook.”
Arisa smiled.
From her expression, it was clear she truly wasn’t angry.
“…I appreciate you saying that. And I’m sorry for casually telling people about your cooking too.”
Generally speaking, if a son says something like “my wife is the better cook,” mothers tend to get annoyed.
It was the sort of thing that poured oil on the flames of the classic mother-in-law versus daughter-in-law problem.
Even if the mother had asked first, he probably shouldn’t have answered so lightly.
That said…
Yuzuru and Arisa had no intention of actually getting married in the first place, so that kind of in-law conflict would never arise.
On top of that, Yuzuru believed—at least—that Ayu wasn’t the sort of person who would get angry over something like that.
Those circumstances existed, but…
Even so, he probably should’ve kept quiet about it.
“…Well. When I found out you’d been talking about my cooking, Yuzuru-san… I did feel a little embarrassed.”
Arisa scratched her cheek, her skin faintly flushed.
Then she looked up at him from beneath her lashes, fidgeting slightly.
“But I was happy. Really… because it meant you genuinely thought that.”
“I feel like I’ve been telling you it’s delicious for a long time.”
“Most people wouldn’t say something tastes bad when someone cooked it for them, right?”
Generally speaking, criticizing food someone personally made for you is bad manners.
Of course, there’s nothing wrong with later critiquing something you ate at a restaurant, but…
Arisa cooked for Yuzuru without asking for anything in return.
Under normal circumstances, saying “it’s delicious” was simply the obvious thing to do.
“Of course, I knew you weren’t just saying it to be polite, Yuzuru-san. You always had seconds… and thirds. So… I mean, realising that you liked my cooking so much you’d even brag about it to your family—that made me happy.”
After saying that, Arisa let out a small sigh.
“May I complain for a bit?”
“Go ahead. Say whatever you need to.”
Yuzuru nodded firmly.
After thanking him in a voice that sounded like it might disappear, Arisa finally let her feelings spill out.
“My family… well, I don’t even know if I should call them family… but those people have never said it tastes good. Not even once.”
A gloom settled over her eyes.
Lowering her face, she confessed in a strained voice.
“The truth is… I don’t actually like cooking. I was forced into it—no, sorry. That’s not fair to say. No one ever directly told me to cook. But at home, it’s just taken for granted that I will. So I can’t refuse.”
Then she gave a self-mocking smile.
Her shoulders trembled slightly as she smiled, and the sight of it was painfully hard to watch.
“I only got good at cooking because I didn’t want to be scolded. It’s all like that. Everything. It’s not because I wanted to do it myself… I was just scared. It’s not something I can really be proud of.”
Arisa sighed deeply.
Then she looked up at Yuzuru with moist eyes and forced a smile.
It looked like she was trying to act cheerful, but it twitched faintly at the edges.
“So when you praised me, Yuzuru-san, I was really happy. Even if it had just been politeness. And later, when I realised you truly did think it was delicious… honestly, I felt happy enough to jump up and down. …It was the first time.”
A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
Still smiling, Arisa continued.
“It was the first time I actually wanted to cook. I wanted you to eat it, so I kept coming over every week. For the first time, I thought… maybe it’s good that I’m good at cooking. So…”
“Arisa.”
Yuzuru softly called her name.
Then he pulled the slightly startled girl into an embrace.
He pressed her face against his chest.
Arisa didn’t resist.
He gently stroked her hair.
“You worked hard.”
“…Yes.”
For a while, Arisa soaked the front of Yuzuru’s shirt with her tears.
The quiet sound of her sobbing lasted only a few minutes.
Before long she raised her head and wiped the moisture at the corner of her eyes with her fingers.
“This is bad… When I’m with you, Yuzuru-san, I start crying.”
“Does that mean it’s my fault?”
When Yuzuru asked jokingly, Arisa let out a small laugh.
“Yes. You’re a bad person, Yuzuru-san… You make me want to rely on you.”
Perhaps because she had vented everything weighing on her heart, Arisa’s expression looked brighter than before.
“Honestly, because of you the flow of my story got interrupted.”
“Ah—sorry about that. …So what were you saying again?”
When Yuzuru asked, Arisa began to stumble over her words.
“Um… well… what I mean is, cooking for you, Yuzuru-san… it’s fun. If it means hearing you say it’s delicious, I’ll make as much as you want…”
The moment she finished saying that, Arisa’s face turned bright red.
Apparently she realised she’d said something a little dangerous.
She hurriedly waved her hands in denial.
“N-no, um! What I meant just now isn’t like—making you miso soup every day for the rest of your life or anything!”
“Ah—ah, yeah… I know. You didn’t need to clarify that.”
Yuzuru could feel his own face heating up.
He didn’t think Arisa had just proposed to him or anything like that, but when she got this embarrassed about it, it made him embarrassed too.
“For example—right! Think of it like feeding a cat. Like how a kitty looks cute when it eats happily. You get what I mean?”
“That comparison is way too harsh.”
(What am I, a stray cat?) Yuzuru protested.
But when he thought about it objectively, he really did look like a cat that had been fed and tamed.
No—more than that, it was exactly that.
(Actually… that example might be pretty accurate.)
Thinking that himself made Yuzuru feel a little pathetic.
“A-anyway! Cooking for you isn’t unpleasant, Yuzuru-san. So serving food to your family isn’t something I mind either. Do you understand now?”
“Meow.”
“Don’t joke around.”
Arisa snapped sharply at him, and Yuzuru shrugged.
