Chapter Two: A Delicious Relationship Starts with Omurice
A week had passed since I officially joined the cooking club.
Even though we only met three times a week, I was starting to get the hang of showing up to the club’s kitchen.
And me? I was stuck at an isolated table, desperately hacking away at vegetables.
Tap, tap. The sound from my cutting board was anything but rhythmic. By the way, I’d already cut my fingers five times this week, landing me in the nurse’s office twice. Taking a bath stung like hell.
Nikaido, laughing his head off, snapped a picture and posted it on SNS. I’m serious about this, man! I wanted to snap back, but without the skills to back it up, I had no leg to stand on.
As for my standing in the cooking club, there wasn’t any overt bullying, but I was definitely an outsider. I didn’t have a single person’s contact info, and nobody even made eye contact with me.
No wonder all the guys with ulterior motives quit!
“Midoriya-kun, you done with those veggies?” a classmate from the club asked, checking in on me.
“Still working on it,” I replied.
“Oh… okay.”
She glanced at my progress, gave a wry smile, and hesitated before speaking.
“…Um, mind if I take over?”
“Oh, sure. Go for it.”
I could tell I was being babied, but even I knew what she meant, so I handed over the cutting board without a fuss.
Basically, I was too slow, holding up the next step. They needed me to step aside.
I was clearly dead weight. Forget guy-girl drama—I might get kicked out for sheer incompetence soon.
“Ugh…”
Stripped of my one and only task, I had nothing to do, so I shuffled over to the club president.
“Hey, President Miyase, maybe it’s time I got to do something besides chopping veggies? Y’know, just a thought.”
“Hmm, still too early for that. Letting you near a stove’s a bit risky.”
“Anything’s fine! Like, stirring something, maybe…”
“Midoriya-kun, everything starts with the basics, right? First, you’ve gotta chop veggies evenly and quickly!”
She said it like she was gently scolding a kid, punctuating it with a wink. With her looks, it totally worked.
She was right, no question. But I needed to make something edible on my own, like, yesterday. I didn’t care about mastering the basics—I wanted something that looked decent and could fill my stomach, pronto.
I knew it was the wrong approach, but this was a club, not a private cooking class. We worked in teams, each person handling a specific role to make a dish. As the newbie, all I got was veggie-chopping duty.
Which I’d just been fired from.
“Man, what a mess.”
I wanted to try. I really did. But my skills and social game were lagging behind. Still, I’d promised my girlfriend I’d make it work. Gotta start somewhere, right?
Sighing, I stood up to at least help with something—setting out dishes, washing plates, anything.
Soon, the food was ready, and the whole club sat down to eat. Chicken was on sale today, so the table was loaded with karaage, chicken wings, and other poultry dishes.
“Let’s dig in!” President Miyase’s cheerful voice rang out, and we all clapped our hands together.
I took a bite of karaage. “Holy crap, this is good! The juicy meat and crisp spices are a perfect combo!”
“There’s Midoriya-kun with his weird food reviews again,” someone teased, and the club members giggled.
Cut me some slack! This kind of amazing food was something I only got to eat at club. At least give me props for keeping my voice down.
“You eat like it’s the best thing ever, Midoriya-kun,” President Miyase said. “It’s kinda cute. Here, have some of mine.”
“Seriously?!”
I was scarfing down the food when she offered me her share. Apparently, after hearing I’d passed out from hunger and seeing my disaster of a tamagoyaki, she felt so bad for me that she’s the only one in the club who’s nice to me. Is she an angel or what?
Plus, we could take leftovers home in containers.
Joining this school was the best decision ever. Seriously.
Nikaido told me I’d become a hot topic among classmates, who found my situation hilarious, but there’s no way I’m quitting. I’m not completely oblivious to how people see me, but in two years, I won’t even be dealing with these people. If worrying about rumors means stressing out Yuna, I’d rather let them talk.
Since I wasn’t on cleanup duty today, I could head home early.
Feeling good, I figured I’d practice cooking when I got back.
Stuffing my happiness into my backpack, I was grinning as I headed out when I realized I’d forgotten my water bottle in the kitchen. Honestly, going back was a pain, but I couldn’t afford to make my position in the club any worse, so I turned around.
I was already on thin ice, so my only shot at surviving was racking up some goodwill. Thinking these sly thoughts, I opened the kitchen door and found people still there.
“Natsukawa-san, can you wash all the leftover dishes?”
Inside were Natsukawa Aoi and two girls from my year—faces I recognized but names I didn’t know. Probably the cleanup crew.
“…”
“You’ve got nothing better to do, right? Or are you too busy stealing people’s boyfriends?”
“Didn’t you take Yuka’s boyfriend, too? Do you have no shame? Doesn’t it hurt your conscience?”
“If it did, she wouldn’t do it. She’s just clueless. Like with Misato, remember?”
“That was bad. She was so pitiful.”
Oh crap, this is a total showdown!
They hadn’t noticed me yet, so I dove behind a shelf, cold sweat pouring down. My stomach churned. How did I end up here?!
“…Fine,” Natsukawa said.
“What’s fine?”
“I’ll wash all the dishes.”
Her voice was small but firm as she started scrubbing. I thought she was just feisty, but her mental toughness was something else.
“That’s obvious. You’re not getting it,” one girl snapped.
“Look, this one’s still dirty,” the other added, sliding dozens of already-washed dishes back into the sink.
“There’s a lot here, but you can handle it, right? You’ve got plenty of people to ‘help’ you, don’t you, Natsukawa-san?”
“Haha, that’s hilarious.”
This is terrifying!
I needed to pretend I didn’t see anything.
It was obviously messed up, but I didn’t know enough about Natsukawa to take sides. Jumping in to defend her would only make things worse.
I crept toward the door, careful not to make a sound. But as I grabbed the handle, the door let out a loud creeeak.
“—!”
Three pairs of eyes snapped to me. Oh no. Oh no!
But if they didn’t know I’d overheard, I might have a chance! Did I? Or was I screwed? Is there insurance for this?!
Panicking, I decided to play it off like I’d just walked in.
“Oh, people are still here?”
I casually grabbed my water bottle. “Forgot this. Wow, that’s a ton of dishes.”
“…Yeah,” one of the girls mumbled.
“Want some help? That’s a lot for just the cleanup crew.”
Was that too obvious? I worried, but ignoring what I’d seen felt wrong. When I offered, the two girls instantly put on guilty faces and clasped their hands.
“So, uh, we’re not actually on cleanup duty. It’s just Natsukawa-chan today. The others had stuff to do and left, so we were helping, but we’ve got places to be…”
“Yeah, sorry, but can we leave it to you?”
So, the actual cleanup crew ditched, leaving Natsukawa alone, and these two were bullying her for no reason. This is hell!
They looked cute, clasping their hands, but after witnessing that scene, all I could think was, Girls are scary.
“No prob, I got this. I’m the lowest-ranking guy here anyway,” I said with a forced smile, waving them off. They giggled and skipped out of the kitchen. Seriously, what the hell?!
I regretted not leaving the bottle behind as I set my bag down and rolled up my sleeves. Might as well do it. Plus, helping out could earn me some points in the club.
Pretty calculating, but doing Natsukawa a favor couldn’t hurt.
Since that first day, I hadn’t found the right words to talk to her, so I started washing in silence. She stopped, looking up at me in surprise.
“Wait, you’re actually helping?!”
“What, should I leave?”
Maybe she didn’t even want me washing dishes with her. I paused, but she quickly set down her plate and waved her hands.
“No, no, it’s not that! I just thought you felt obligated or something. I mean, I was pretty harsh to you on your first day.”
“I’m not gonna ditch you in a situation like this.”
“Are you, like, super righteous or something?”
“Not really. I almost snuck out without getting caught.”
Feeling a bit guilty, I confessed, and she laughed, “You’re admitting that now?!”
“You had a prime chance to make me owe you, and you blew it,” she teased.
“Even if I did, I don’t really have anything I want from you.”
“Really? You’re kinda weird, senpai.”
Am I? Regardless of my sense of justice, only a jerk would demand something here. Though, before Yuna, I probably would’ve made an excuse and bailed to avoid trouble. Maybe her righteousness has rubbed off on me.
“…Anyway, sorry about before,” Natsukawa said.
“Before?”
“When you joined. I called you annoying and was a total jerk.”
“Yeah, that was intense.”
“It’s kinda an excuse, but it’s my job. Too many people join because of me, so President Miyase asked me to scare them off. It works, and honestly, I kinda enjoy it.”
“…Got it.”
She added with a grin, “It’s saved us a lot of trouble, so I go all in.”
“Is it okay to tell me that?”
“Totally fine. The fact that you’re asking means you’re one of the good ones.”
Well, that’s… good, I guess?
Honestly, thinking one of the club members hated me was making things awkward, so this was a relief. A silver lining, maybe.
“Our club’s a mess,” she continued. “It looks all shiny, but it’s not. Even with my tough act, people still start drama over stuff like stealing boyfriends…”
“Speaking of, why do you stick with the club?”
I’d have quit the first day if I were her.
“Same as you, senpai—I’ve got a goal. It’s a secret, though. Also, I do have a good friend in the club. She’s just been absent lately.”
“…Cool.”
“What’s with that lukewarm look? I’m serious, she exists!”
If she’s real, I hope that friend comes back soon. I’m not quitting, so a better club vibe would be nice.
“By the way, is it true you joined for your girlfriend?”
“Yup. I send her pics of what I eat every day.”
“What… like, she’s controlling?”
“Not controlling, just worried. We’re long-distance.”
I explained how I started living alone and passed out from hunger, and she burst out laughing, saying that was ridiculous. Her laugh brought out a small dimple on one cheek, her carefree vibe undeniably cute.
Yeah, she’s cute.
I’d only seen her stone-faced side, so despite her stunning looks, I hadn’t gotten the hype. But this? This I understood.
“Pfft, you’re dumber than I thought, senpai…”
“Rude much?”
“I’m complimenting you! You’re funny. You were all cool earlier, but now you’re such a goof—oh man, I’m tearing up.”
She’s definitely making fun of me.
She wiped a tear with her index finger, then asked with an excited grin, “So, what’s your girlfriend like?”
“Uh, you care about that?”
She nodded eagerly.
I’m not great at gushing, but here goes.
“She’s smart, cute, kind—honestly, perfect. We’re long-distance, but she’ll travel six hours round-trip just to see me. That’s how much she loves me.”
“Ugh, enough with the lovey-dovey crap.”
You’re the one who asked! I shot her a side-eye, but despite her words, her expression softened, and she murmured, “That’s nice.”
“What about the boyfriend-stealing stuff? That true?”
“No way. Why would I? I don’t even know their names, let alone talk to them. They just fall for me on their own.”
“That’s gotta be a pain.”
“Exactly! But what can I do? I’m cute, right?”
She gave a playful wink. She is cute, no question.
But saying the drama that comes with it is “just how it is” doesn’t sit right with me. It’s clearly everyone else’s fault.
When I went quiet, she must’ve thought her joke fell flat, because she pouted in embarrassment.
“What? Laugh already!”
“Sorry… I just think there shouldn’t be so many ‘that’s just how it is’ moments, you know?”
“If you don’t fit in, you deserve to be bullied.”
I’d heard something like that at one of my transfer schools. I’d struggled to blend in, got teased for not speaking the local dialect, and when I brought it up, that’s what they said.
Maybe it’s “just how it is.” But having to accept that hurts.
Natsukawa seemed surprised by my response, nodding softly with a “…Yeah” before flashing a bright smile to brush it off.
“People call me a try-hard flirt, but I only talk to people I like, y’know?”
“…Gotcha.”
“That’s why I’m terrible with names. But, well…”
She finished washing the last dish, turned off the faucet, and looked at me.
“Midoriya Shiki-senpai.”
Calling my full name with exaggerated flair, she grinned wide, her perfect lips moving.
“I think I might like you, senpai!”
“…Uh, I’ve got a girlfriend.”
“As a person, jeez! What’re you getting all flustered for?”
…Huh??
Long story short, since then, Natsukawa Aoi’s been totally attached to me.
“Senpai! ♡ Morning!”
“Morning, Natsukawa.”
“C’mon, call me Aoi already!”
No matter how many times I tell her to chill in public, she doesn’t listen, so I’ve given up. Sticking to her last name is my last line of defense.
“You’re stricter than I thought, senpai. Let’s be friends!”
“Isn’t that my line?”
How did it come to this? I sighed, and she made an X with her fingers in front of her mouth, grinning, “You’re letting happiness slip away!”
Your fault, not mine.
The tricky part is, her “like” is just “as a person.” Even when I talk about Yuna, she just laughs, “You’re so talkative about her!” with zero jealousy.
That makes it hard to shut her down completely.
I don’t want to be that guy who misreads signals, but letting myself get too chummy would be unfair to Yuna. So, I’ve decided Natsukawa’s a lonely monster who never learned how to keep her distance because she’s been so isolated. My job? Teach her boundaries.
“Let’s walk home together today!”
“Sure, I’ll pray we bump into each other at the shoe lockers.”
“That’s mean! Why can’t you just wait for me?”
I’m trying to keep her at arm’s length, but she’s always so lively. Or maybe she wants me to brush her off, like she’s expecting it. Has being liked by everyone turned her into a masochist or something?
Surprisingly, she’s not like this with others. She’s always alone at school. When Nikaido saw her run up to me in the hallway, all smiles and her scrunchie-tied ponytail bouncing, he was floored, saying, “What the hell did you do to her?” He also warned me, “This is totally a honey trap. Don’t buy any vases if she tries selling you one.” Nothing’s been pitched yet, but I’ll stay cautious.
As a result, the cooking club now sees me as “Natsukawa’s ally.” Two outcasts—her, already shunned, and me, the loner—ended up paired together.
At first, I thought it was the worst, but having someone to talk to makes work go faster, and Natsukawa’s been teaching me little tricks, so maybe it’s not so bad.
President Miyase hasn’t said it outright, but she’s thrilled that pairing up the club’s problem children has calmed things down. Ouch, that stings.
I complain, but there’s no real harm done. After all my transfers, getting a junior this attached to me is a first, and honestly, I’m kinda happy about it.
Seeing her light up and rush over in the halls, her fluffy scrunchie and ponytail swinging like a hyper puppy—a short-legged, fluffy one—yeah, it’s cute.
It was after school, with cherry blossoms starting to fall. I was thinking about all this while visiting the classroom next door.
“Excuse me, is Sakuraba Haru here?”
I asked a girl, probably Sakuraba’s classmate, who gave me an exasperated “Another one?” look before going to fetch her.
Soon, a delicate-looking girl with refined features approached, her neatly curled hair swaying softly, her expression wary.
Fair enough. I was calling her out of the blue.
She was stunning, striking a perfect balance of cute and beautiful. Her polished yet gentle vibe made Nikaido’s claim about her being the “goddess” loved by everyone seem totally believable.
And she definitely reminded me of someone. Her sharp features, her cherry-blossom-pink lips—I’d seen them before. Had I met her somewhere and forgotten?
"Um... is there something about me?”
“Sorry for calling you out like this. I’m Midoriya Shiki, a new cooking club member, and…”
“…Oh!”
When I mentioned the cooking club, her expression lit up instantly.
“President told me about you. Joining this late in the year’s pretty rare, huh?”
“Yeah, well, it’s kind of a weird situation. It’s also why I’m here talking to you…”
At my words, she tilted her head, murmuring, “Weird situation?”
What I needed right now was to learn how to whip up decent home-cooked meals, fast. But the cooking club’s all about teamwork and fancy dishes, so it’s not like I could apply what we do there to my own kitchen right away.
So, I figured I’d ask someone who’s good at home cooking to teach me. When I asked President Miyase, she said, “I’m not sure if she’d agree, but Haru-chan’s great at teaching. She’s the best cook in the club.” That’s why I came straight to Sakuraba.
I left out the part about sending food pics to Yuna but explained how I’d started living alone and passed out at home. Her face fell, and she forced an apologetic smile.
“Um, teaching you one-on-one might be tough. I’ve been really busy lately.”
“Oh, gotcha.”
“…Yeah, sorry.”
“Nah, my bad for asking. I heard you haven’t been to the club in like six months, so I figured it was a long shot anyway.”
Part of me wanted to ask what could possibly keep her so busy at our not-exactly-elite school with its no-part-time-job rule, but she clearly had her reasons. Besides, I was the one being pushy, asking a total stranger for a favor on a whim.
Pushing her further and risking her quitting the club would defeat the purpose, so I just watched as she hurriedly left the classroom.
I went home ready to give up cleanly, but no backup plan magically appeared. I’d already asked President Miyase, but she shot me down with, “I’m technically a senior prepping for exams, you know.” Asking Natsukawa felt a bit shady considering Yuna. And asking other club members? Out of the question. If I was gonna learn, I wanted it to be from someone who’s actually good.
“Days without club are such a pain…”
My stomach was growling, but all I could think was I wanted something tasty without any specific ideas.
Even if I thought of something, I couldn’t cook it anyway. My options were to buy something random or wallow in misery. Still, I had to eat something to keep Yuna from worrying.
But money was tight…! Frustrated, I gave up thinking and fired up a game. When I finally looked up at a good stopping point, the clock read 9:00 p.m.
Crap, I gotta send Yuna a picture, or she’ll kill me!
I shut down the game in a panic and sprinted to Wac, the famous burger chain. Wac’s always a safe bet—guaranteed delicious. Wac’s the best. All hail Wac.
“Hell yeah, I’m getting a Samurai Burger today. No question!”
Suddenly hyped, I threw on some sweats, grabbed my wallet, and skipped my way to the nearby shopping street.
I’d only just moved here, so I barely knew where anything was, but I learned on day one that the shopping street had everything. I’d gotten pretty used to the strip with all the fast-food joints, especially Wac.
I walked into Wac, ordered my Samurai Burger, and took my number to wait. Then I spotted a familiar face at a table.
A messy yet somehow refined ponytail. A gorgeous face that seemed unapproachable at first but gave off a warm, homely vibe thanks to her kind, slightly furrowed brows.
“Haru… Sakuraba?”
Her hairstyle was different, but she was still in her school uniform, and with that kind of stunning beauty, there was no mistaking her.
Across from her sat a guy in his late thirties, too old to be her boyfriend, too young to be her dad, and too sketchy to be just a friend. They’d finished eating and were chatting about something.
“…Sugar baby stuff?”
It was hard to imagine, given how serious she seemed when we talked, but if she was strapped for cash and doing something like that, it’d explain why she couldn’t make it to club.
But at a fast-food joint like Wac? That didn’t add up. Still, once my brain latched onto the idea, I couldn’t think of anything else.
“…She’s got some serious stuff going on.”
I briefly considered using this as leverage to get her to teach me, but sticking my nose in could drag me into a mess. Deciding to bail before she noticed me, I headed to the counter to change my order to takeout.
“Excuse me, can you make this to-go—”
“Hey, Midoriya-kun, right?”
I turned, and there was Sakuraba, tray in hand, returning it to the counter.
Worst timing ever!
“Oh, uh, what a coincidence!”
“Yeah. This place is pretty far from school.”
She smiled as she handed back her tray.
If a classmate caught her in a possible sugar baby situation, you’d expect some panic, but she was so calm. Maybe it wasn’t that?
“I live around here. You too?”
“Nope, just happened to be here today.”
Who comes this far by chance?! No way!
I missed my chance to confirm the takeout switch, and for some reason, Sakuraba wasn’t budging from my side. As I racked my brain for something to say, the guy she was with walked over.
“Haru-chan.”
“…Enoshima-san.”
“It’s getting late. I’ll walk you home.”
Yeah, she should get going. I didn’t see anything, honestly. This guy’s kinda scary.
I turned the other way, pretending to be a stranger, but Sakuraba suddenly grabbed my arm tight.
“It’s okay. My boyfriend’s here to pick me up.”
My heart rate shot to 200 BPM in a split second.
Boyfriend?! Who?! Me?! Scary!
What is she talking about?!
“Wait, Haru-chan, you’ve got a boyfriend?” the guy said.
“He’s a classmate. A friend,” she clarified, glancing at me like she expected me to play along. But I was totally lost. Just let me go home! All I wanted was a damn burger…
Between this and Natsukawa, I’ve been dragged into way too much drama lately. I need an exorcism. Where’s the nearest shrine? I gotta go, like, now.
“He lives nearby, so he’s walking me to the station. Let’s call it a day here,” Sakuraba said.
“Come on, Haru-chan, you said the same thing last time and ditched me. That’s cold.”
“Haha, just a coincidence.”
She brushed it off with a smile, but the guy scowled and turned to me.
“You say he’s a friend, but you totally like Haru-chan, don’t you? If I were your classmate, I’d be head over heels.”
“Number 852! Is number 852 here?” a voice called from behind.
That’s my number, printed on my receipt.
Right, time to go. I’m starving. It’s been forever since I had a Samurai Burger.
But Sakuraba’s hand, gripping my arm, was trembling.
“Hey, answer me. You like her, don’t you?”
I didn’t want to get involved in this mess. I had no clue what was going on, it was scary, and I had no obligation to help her.
But if it was Yuna—if Yuna were here—she’d help her. Natsukawa said I’ve changed because of Yuna, and she’s probably right.
Before I knew it, I’d taken Sakuraba’s hand.
“Yeah, I like her.”
“Wha—?!” she gasped.
“Let’s go.”
Bidding farewell to my Samurai Burger, I pulled a stunned Sakuraba out of the shop. We ran through the neon-lit arcade, a strangely warm breeze pushing at our backs like it was urging us on.
“…So, you actually like me?” she asked.
“No way. That was just a lie to get us out of there.”
“Right. Sorry.”
We walked far enough to reach my neighborhood, and Sakuraba crouched down. Her legs were shaking—she could barely stand.
“I got a little freaked out. You said it so naturally, I wondered if that’s what you meant at school earlier.”
I wished she’d stop forcing that pale, shaky smile. It made me feel helpless, like I couldn’t do anything for her.
“…Can you explain what that was all about?”
“Yeah, we should sit somewhere…”
She glanced around, but I’d only been here a month and knew there wasn’t anywhere nearby to sit.
“If you’re okay with it, you can come to my place.”
Having helped her this far, I couldn’t just leave her like this. I was in too deep now. Someone with her looks, sitting on the street at night? She’d get into even worse trouble. That’d make saving her pointless.
I felt bad for Yuna, but she’d be angrier if I abandoned Sakuraba now.
“That guy might still be around, and it’s late. My place is safe—I live alone, so you don’t have to worry.”
“You did mention that, didn’t you? …Still—”
“Also, my walls are super thin.”
“Huh?”
“If I tried anything shady, you could scream, and my neighbors would definitely hear and come running. I know that’s not exactly reassuring, but…”
“…No, it’s fine. I’ll take you up on that. I owe you a proper thank you, too.”
With a teary smile, Sakuraba pressed her hands to the concrete and stood.
At my place, Sakuraba looked nervous, sitting primly at the table where I usually ate.
“Your place is so clean,” she said.
“Yeah, I make sure of it.”
Yuna has asthma, and dusty environments can trigger attacks, leaving her coughing uncontrollably. So I keep the place spotless in case she visits.
“Make yourself comfy. Want something to drink?”
“No, it’s fine. I don’t want to trouble you more. I’ll explain and leave right away, I swear.”
“Come on, at least let me get you some tea. It’ll help you calm down.”
Was she wary or just being polite? Probably both. Still, we’d run through the shopping street, so she had to be thirsty. I grabbed a paper cup from the kitchen and poured some tea.
Sorry it’s not a proper glass—I only have one decent plate and cup because washing dishes is a pain.
Still tense, Sakuraba murmured, “Thank you,” and sipped from the paper cup.
“You’re a good guy, Midoriya-kun. Going along with that weird situation…”
“Well, we’re kinda in the same club. You’re not a total stranger.”
“That’s… good to hear. I’m glad I didn’t quit.”
I felt awkward pushing her when she was looking down, but since I’d helped her, I at least wanted to know what was going on. Taking a deep breath, I dove in.
“So, what was that back there? Some kind of sugar baby deal gone wrong?”
“No way!” she snapped, her head shooting up, clearly offended.
“…That guy’s my manager at my part-time job.”
“You’re kidding—you have a job?!”
“Don’t tell anyone! I’m only telling you because it’s you!”
Apparently, Sakuraba works as a kitchen staff at a family restaurant far from school to avoid getting caught, since part-time jobs are against school rules. I knew some kids did it on the sly, but I didn’t expect it from her. I’d considered getting a job with free meals myself, but the risk of expulsion stopped me. She’s got guts.
“We’re a single-parent household. I’m on a scholarship, but it’s not enough…”
“You’re a scholarship student and you’re working?!”
“Keep your voice down! I haven’t told anyone. If this gets out, I’ll know it came from you!”
“I won’t say anything, but… a job?”
“Yeah. My mom works herself to death, so I wanted to ease her burden. I started at the family restaurant, but lately, my manager’s been acting weird. He messages me about random stuff, I think he’s taking photos of me, and he basically forces me to go out to eat with him… Today was like that.”
That’s way heavier than I expected.
Not a sugar baby situation—she wasn’t even getting paid for it, just stuck in a creepy mess. Knowing that, sacrificing my Samurai Burger to help her felt worth it. I’m glad I did.
“Why not quit and block his number?”
“…I can’t. If I quit, I might not find another job. It pays well, and the schedule’s flexible. Quitting would screw me over. At least until I graduate…”
To me, if it’s that dangerous, she should quit no matter what, but she’s probably weighed her options and decided this was the best she could do.
“Got it. That’s tough, but I guess there’s no helping it.”
“I’m so sorry for dragging you into this. I’ll make it up to you…”
“Then how about a deal?”
“A deal?”
She stared at me, confused.
I’d been thinking it over while she talked, and this could turn out pretty sweet if I played it right.
“First, I’ll keep playing your boyfriend.”
“What?!”
“Your job’s around here, right? I can walk you to and from work. That should keep him in check. In exchange, you teach me how to cook. How’s that?”
“That’d be a huge help, but…”
“But?”
“Sorry, can I check your fridge real quick?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
I wasn’t sure why, but it’s not like there was anything embarrassing in there.
She opened the fridge. Nothing but energy drinks and nutritional supplements. Seeing the usual barren state, she clapped a hand over her mouth, speechless.
“You’re done for, Midoriya-kun.”
“Is it that bad?”
“Beyond bad! You actually live here like this?”
“I’m managing,” I said, but my stomach growled loudly, betraying me.
“Oh, right, you haven’t eaten.”
“I was waiting for my order at Wac when we ran into each other.”
I told her my Samurai Burger was probably in the trash by now, and she looked devastated before standing with a determined expression.
“Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“Shopping! As an apology, I’m making you dinner!”
A few minutes later, we left my place and hit up a convenience store.
She’d wanted to go to a supermarket, but it was already closed, so we settled on grabbing food from the nearby konbini.
“It gets chilly at night,” I said, forcing her to wear my oversized windbreaker. She raised her arms like a penguin, the sleeves flapping.
“I can’t make anything too fancy, so is omurice okay?”
“Omurice is plenty fancy. It’s not ‘omurice is okay’—it’s ‘omurice is great.’”
“Wow, that’s some enthusiasm. Haha, now I’m getting pumped!”
Grumbling about the high prices, she tossed ingredients into a basket.
“Are supermarkets really that much cheaper?”
“Duh! Konbini stuff is basically all overpriced. Buying eggs here is an emergency move. Total luxury!”
“Is that a big difference?”
“Huge! …Man, watching you is kinda scary. Living alone like this with zero life skills is worrying.”
“Hey, I can handle laundry and cleaning, I’ll have you know.”
“But your cooking’s a disaster, and your fridge is that? I’m worried you’ll just drop dead one day.”
I had no comeback. I shut up, and she giggled.
“Anyway, I’m pulling out all the stops tonight. Get ready!”
True to her word, the omurice Sakuraba whipped up back at my place sparkled like a damn jewel.
Just moments ago, these were raw ingredients, and now there’s an omurice steaming in front of me that wouldn’t look out of place in some fancy Western restaurant. Sakuraba had drawn a slightly goofy cat on it with ketchup.
“Whoa! This looks insanely good!”
“It’s delicious, too. I poured a ton of gratitude into it,” she said with a proud grin, gesturing for me to dig in.
I snapped a quick pic, clapped my hands together, and took a bite from the edge.
“Holy crap, it’s amazing!”
The egg was as jiggly as it looked, and the classic ketchup rice had the perfect texture. I was practically inhaling it by the second bite.
“Sakuraba, this is unreal. Hands down the best omurice I’ve ever had. You’re incredible. You’re beyond chef level.”
“Haha, glad you think so.”
She just watched me scarf it down, saying she’d already eaten at Wac. Good thing, too, since I only had one decent plate.
I’d gotten used to eating alone lately, so having someone else at the table felt… weird.
“By the way, it’s getting late. You sure it’s okay to be here? It’s pretty dark out. Won’t your mom worry?”
“Nah, it’s fine. I’m often out this late for work, and my mom’s on night shift, so she’s not home yet. …It’s been a while since I’ve seen someone eat my cooking.”
“You cook at home, too?”
“Yup. I’ve been handling household stuff since I was little. I joined the cooking club to get even better.”
“Got it.”
Hold up. The gap between us is insane. I barely touched a knife until I was sixteen. Never even used a vacuum cleaner. What a disgrace.
As I devoured the omurice, I stared into Sakuraba’s big eyes. After about five seconds, she looked away.
“…What?”
“Just sending you respect beams. Total respect.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? …Pfft. You’re kinda weird, Midoriya-kun.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Yup. I like weird people.”
She flashed a warm smile.
“I’m in for teaching you. I’ll show you how to cook.”
“Seriously? You’re cool with it?”
“Yup. But you’re on boyfriend duty in return, got it? Fake boyfriend.”
Fake boyfriend. That word snapped me back to Yuna.
Even if it’s just to protect Sakuraba from her creepy manager, taking on the role of her boyfriend feels like something I should run by Yuna first.
But it’s literally just walking her to and from work and learning to cook. Nothing’s gonna happen. Still, what would Yuna think if she heard about this? She’s already got enough on her plate—I don’t want to stress her out.
“Deal,” I said, shaking Sakuraba’s hand, deciding to keep the details from Yuna.
There’s not a shred of guilt in me, so consulting Yuna and making her suspicious would be worse. Plus, it’d suck to abandon Sakuraba and screw myself over in the process.
I’m trying to get better at cooking for Yuna’s sake.
I can just imagine surprising her with an omurice like Sakuraba’s someday. What kind of face would she make? I have to learn how to make this.
Lost in those thoughts, my motivation to cook skyrocketed, and I gripped Sakuraba’s hand a little too hard.
After walking Sakuraba to the station, I checked the time—22:58—and called Yuna on video chat while heading home.
“Hey there!”
“You haven’t sent today’s picture yet,” she said, her voice low.
“Crap!”
With everything that happened, I’d totally forgotten. I hurriedly sent the omurice photo. Yuna muttered, “I was already packing my bags.”
I can’t even call her dramatic since I did pass out once. Having a record sucks!
“This omurice looks insanely good, though,” she said.
“Right? It’s unreal. A friend from cooking club made it. The quality’s god-tier, better than any restaurant.”
“It was that good?”
“Seriously amazing. I’m walking back from dropping that friend off at the station now.”
Sakuraba Haru is a phenomenal cook.
That’s why I went to her to learn, but her skills were beyond what I’d imagined. Even with all the drama, it was worth it.
“You’ve already made a friend, huh?” Yuna said.
“Huh?”
“In the cooking club. You’re not exactly the type to dive into friendships, so it’s kinda surprising.”
“Well, yeah, I guess.”
I mean, it’s all about keeping my promise to Yuna and surviving solo life.
“Have you made a ton of other friends, too?”
“Not a ton, but there’s one junior who’s super attached to me.”
“…Got it. That’s good,” she said softly.
Over the phone, I could hear the rustle of papers. She was probably at her desk, out of frame.
“Studying this late?”
“It’s only 23:00.”
“It’s already 23:00. Don’t push yourself too hard—you’re not the healthiest.”
“…You don’t have to worry so much. My asthma attacks and migraines have been way less lately.”
“That’s great to hear! But don’t let your guard down.”
“I know. You watch out for colds, too, okay?”
“Of course.”
“Night, then.”
“Night.”
I hung up and let out a heavy sigh. Knowing Yuna, she’d probably study for another three hours.
I got home, put my phone away, and unlocked the door. Heading straight to the bathroom, I washed my hands thoroughly, gargled, and thought back to the past.
I met Yuna in the winter of our first year of middle school. Back then, I was a total mess—peak edgy chuunibyou, avoiding everyone and keeping to myself.
Watching my classmates goof off, I’d think, What’s the point? We’ll all drift apart soon anyway. I must’ve been insufferable, acting all aloof.
So, I read books constantly. Being alone worried my parents, so I decided I liked being alone. Reading kept people from talking to me, and I even got praised for it. Eventually, I got hooked and started hanging out at the library.
One day, as usual, I went to the library and found a gorgeous girl crouched on the floor. That was Yuna. Her first words to me?
“Don’t tell anyone you saw me collapse!”
Her hand, which she grabbed mine with, was ice-cold, like there was no blood in it. Even half-conscious, she kept muttering to herself, “It’s all pointless,” “There’s no reason to live,” “I have to become a doctor,” like she was trying to convince herself.
I later learned she was the heir to a big hospital, but seeing her in pain, nauseous, blaming herself despite being so sick—it broke my heart. She was in an environment that forced her to beat herself up.
I even thought she should just run away. I knew better than anyone that leaving cuts ties, whether you want it or not. In all the time I’ve known her, I’ve never once heard Yuna say, “I want to be a doctor.”
And yet, here I am, keeping her tied to a place she can’t easily escape.
I spat out the water, wiped my mouth with a towel, and tossed Sakuraba’s paper cup, still on the table, into the trash.
“Friends… huh?”
Could I call Sakuraba a friend?
I told Yuna she was, because it was easier to explain, but “ally” feels more accurate. I don’t know Sakuraba well enough to call her a friend yet, and “ally” captures the distance better.
What if Yuna showed up while I was learning to cook from Sakuraba? That’d be a disaster. …No, it’s all for Yuna’s sake, and there’s nothing shady about it. But long-distance relationships make stuff like this such a hassle.
“I love her, though…”
I just want all this to work out soon so we can be together.
Thinking that, I started washing the dishes.
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