Since Arisa had gone to the trouble of making it, Yuzuru decided to try the pumpkin pudding right away.
He slid a spoon into the cup.
It seemed to be on the firmer side.
When he took a bite, the rich taste of egg, along with the flavour and sweetness of pumpkin, spread through his mouth.
The texture was pleasant, too.
Eating it together with the caramel sauce at the bottom added a hint of bitterness to the sweetness, creating a different, layered taste.
“Well?”
“Yeah, it’s delicious. Your cake before was great too—you’re good at making sweets, aren’t you?”
When Yuzuru praised her, Arisa shyly shook her head.
“That’s not true. I do sometimes make things with leftover flour, eggs, and milk, so I might be a bit better than average… but if you just follow a recipe, anyone can make this easily.”
“I think that just means your cooking skills are high…”
At that point, a question came to mind.
Could Arisa cook anything? Or were there things she struggled with?
“Do you have any dishes you’re not good at? I mean in terms of making them.”
“Let me think… I’m not very good with Chinese cuisine. It feels difficult.”
“Now that you mention it… I don’t recall ever eating your Chinese cooking.”
When someone as skilled as Arisa said they were “not good” at something, it probably still meant above average.
Still, she seemed to lack confidence in it. Most of what she cooked tended to be Japanese dishes, or Western-style foods like croquettes, fried shrimp, and omelette rice.
She might never have made Chinese food at all.
“Unlike bonito or kelp stock, Chinese flavours tend to rely on umami seasonings.”
“You’re against those, Arisa?”
Yuzuru himself had grown up on seasoning like Ajinomoto, so he didn’t mind it at all.
Of course, he preferred Arisa’s cooking.
“Not at all—I use them when needed. It’s just… how should I put it? It feels like I’ve lost. It’s humiliating.”
“…I see.”
He didn’t understand that at all.
Lost to what, exactly?
Chinese cuisine as a culture?
Or to seasoning paste like weipa?
And even if she “won,” what would she gain?
He wondered, but chose not to say it aloud.
“I also feel like the heat isn’t strong enough. I’ve never managed to make fried rice I’m satisfied with.”
“Fried rice, huh… yeah, that one runs deep.”
Yuzuru had made fried rice himself a few times.
Like peperoncino, it was simple but surprisingly deep—people tended to get oddly particular about it.
“…Speaking of Chinese food, Ayaka is good at it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. She’s treated me a few times—it was great. Apparently she learned from a Chinese chef she knows.”
Despite appearances, Ayaka was a good cook.
Chinese cuisine was her speciality—she was even particular enough to season and maintain her own wok.
“…Do you think she’d teach me if I asked?”
“I think she’d be delighted to.”
And probably with a smug look on her face, too.
“Then I’ll ask her. …I’ll do my best so I can treat you to delicious Chinese food.”
“I’m looking forward to it. Your cooking is something I look forward to every week.”
“That much?”
“Yeah. I’d want to eat it every day, if I could.”
If he could eat Arisa’s cooking every day, that would be genuine happiness.
The Amagi family ought to realise just how fortunate they were.
“…Every day, you say. Then shall I make that happen?”
“Huh?”
Yuzuru’s eyes widened at her suggestion.
It was an offer he couldn’t possibly complain about—but…
“Does that mean you’d come here every day?”
“That would be difficult, so… I was thinking of making you a bento.” Bento is a Japanese lunch box, often homemade and packed with a variety of foods. It’s common for people to prepare bentos for themselves or their loved ones.
“A bento!?”
Having a cute girl make him a bento every day—
As a guy, that was an incredibly appealing development.
“…But wouldn’t that be a lot of work?”
“I already make one for myself every morning. It’s no extra effort. Ah, but I’d like you to cover the cost of ingredients.”
“Just the ingredients?”
Even if the effort was “the same,” the workload was increasing.
Yuzuru felt a bit bad not paying for her labour as well…
“Don’t worry. You’ve already helped me in many ways, like covering the cost of my coat. And besides… I want to make it. For you, Yuzuru-san.”
Her cheeks flushed faintly as she said it.
If she said she wanted to do it, insisting on paying her labour would feel disrespectful.
“Then I’ll gratefully accept. …I’ll make it up to you somehow.”
“You don’t need to…”
“If I want to thank you, will you let me?”
At that, Arisa gave a small, wry smile.
And nodded.
While they were talking, Yuzuru finished the pudding.
He decided to eat the cake as well, taking the box from the fridge and placing it onto a plate.
“This is in return for the pudding.”
“Thank you.”
Arisa stared intently at the cake.
Then she looked up at Yuzuru.
“What is it?”
“Well… I just realised I haven’t said the usual Halloween line.”
The usual line.
In other words—“Trick or treat.”
“Speaking of usual things, you’re not in costume either. …Not that it necessarily matters.”
Yuzuru said with a wry smile—
And Arisa pulled something out of her paper bag.
It was a pair of headbands.
One with cat ears, the other with dog ears.
“…You came prepared.”
“Ayaka-san gave them to me.”
“That explains it.”
He could easily imagine Ayaka forcing cosplay items onto her, saying something like, “Go have a Halloween party with Yuzurun tomorrow!”
“Yuzuru-san, you prefer dogs, right? You can have the dog ears.”
“…Thanks.”
For now, Yuzuru put on the dog ears.
Then he asked—
“Well?”
“…Hehe, they suit you.”
“You just laughed, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t.”
“…Fine. I put mine on, so you should too.”
He urged Arisa, who was hesitating to wear the cat ears.
After a brief internal struggle, she finally placed them on her head.
Then, lowering her gaze shyly, cheeks slightly flushed, she asked:
“…How do I look?”
“Cute…”
Unlike Yuzuru, the cat ears suited her perfectly.
Considering her personality, dog ears might have fit her better—but even so, she looked adorable.
“I-is that so… um, Yuzuru-san.”
Arisa turned to face him.
Her face turned bright red, and after a small cough, she bent her wrists like a cat.
“If you don’t give me sweets… I’ll prank you, nya.”
“…”
“U-um! Yuzuru-san! Silence is the worst reaction!!”
Her face now red as a boiled octopus, Arisa grabbed his shoulders and shook him vigorously.
Meanwhile, overwhelmed by how cute she was, Yuzuru covered his own face with one hand—burning with excitement, embarrassment, and second-hand embarrassment all at once.
“…What if I give the pudding back—can you not prank me?”
“Of course not! And how exactly are you planning to return it!?”
She kept thumping his body with her fists in rapid succession.
