← The Studious Boy and the Secret Account Girl
Volume 3
Chapter 43: A Morning with Matsurika
Chapter 43: A Morning with Matsurika
There was a sound of water flowing in the distance. It was a sound that gave no sense of weight.
Was it still raining?
The question surfaced, but he immediately dismissed it. It was completely different in nature from last night’s storm. That had been a far more violent sound. He had a feeling he recognized it, but his memory was oddly hazy and he couldn’t place it.
His head was heavy; his eyelids wouldn’t open. His half-fogged thoughts refused to come together. Something felt off, but… he couldn’t consider what was strange.
“Nn…”
His consciousness flickered softly, unable to remain awake. Before much time passed, Tsutomu sank back into a doze.
“…ya-kun.”
A pleasant voice sounded. His cheek was being pinched. It didn’t hurt. When he reached out his arm—a soft sensation. He didn’t know what it was, but it felt very good to touch. His palm sank into something, and he was wrapped in a mysterious warmth that made him want to keep kneading it forever.
“Kyah…! Jeez! Are you doing that on purpose!?”
“Nn, mm…”
“Hey! Kariya-kun, wake up!”
“…Uum.”
The clear tone of her voice rose a notch, and the emotion in it grew sharper. When he slightly opened his heavy eyelids, a cute girl with her cheeks dyed bright red was in his blurred vision. …Or rather, it was Matsurika. Her eyes were a little teary. She was close.
Eh… Tachibana?
His mind couldn’t keep up with the situation: in his own room, where he lived alone, was a classmate his age—and an exceptionally beautiful girl at that.
“Whoa!?”
He jerked his upper body upright. His head and vision remained hazy and unfocused. Like this, he couldn’t do anything. When he groped for his glasses and put them on, his eyes met Matsurika, who had her arms crossed in front of her body. Taking her in, he managed one sentence first.
“Your uniform dried?”
Matsurika was wearing her uniform. He was sure it had been soaked through yesterday. At that attractive figure, he felt a sense of loss that was hard to put into words.
“Don’t you have something to say before that?”
“Hm?”
“Still foggy? Are you okay?”
Her voice was stern. He looked at Matsurika’s face, glanced down at his own body, looked around the room, and searched his memories of yesterday. Why he was sleeping on the living room sofa. Why Matsurika was here. Why, why, why… As he answered the questions swirling in his mind one by one, he grasped the current situation. They had been hit by the tag team of the rainy season and a typhoon. The trains had stopped running, and Matsurika couldn’t get home. With no other choice, he had brought her to his own house. She took a bath and ate dinner. Matsurika provoked him, and Tsutomu exceeded his limit—but a phone call from his stepsister stopped him just in time. It had been very close. After that, they talked about family, he got sleepy, but there was no futon in this house. He let Matsurika use the bed in his room, and he slept in the living room. And—now. Which meant…
“Ah… good morning, Tachibana.”
“…Sigh, never mind.”
An exaggerated sigh. His answer apparently hadn’t pleased her. When he tilted his head, sunlight was streaming through a gap in the curtains.
“The rain stopped?”
“Yes. It’s nice weather.”
“I see.”
He was sure he’d heard from someone that it was supposed to rain this weekend, though. He pulled his smartphone closer and tapped the display. When he checked the train status, service had resumed.
“Looks like the trains are running too.”
“Yes. Seems so.”
“Then…”
Was she about to head home?
Matsurika, receiving Tsutomu’s gaze as he started to say that, pointed at the table. Freshly baked bread, salad, fried egg. Yogurt. A glass was filled to the brim with barley tea.
“Since you took care of me, I made breakfast.”
“Oh. You didn’t have to go that far.”
“You looked like you were sleeping so comfortably, Kariya-kun. Sorry for using your ingredients without asking.”
“It’s fine. I was going to prepare food when I woke up anyway.”
“Yeah? Then good.”
Breakfast had been prepared for two.
“Are you eating too, Tachibana?”
“Of course. If you don’t eat a proper breakfast, you won’t have any energy.”
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
“Hmm…”
It was a different response from the women in Tsutomu’s memory—his mother and stepsister. His mother’s entire daily rhythm had been irregular, and his stepsister often skipped breakfast. He also overheard talk about dieting and such in the classroom, so he had the impression that girls didn’t eat much breakfast.
Well, she’s not fat, though.
When he stared fixedly at Matsurika’s midsection, something struck his forehead.
“Where are you looking?”
“Your stomach.”
“Don’t say it so bluntly!”
He received another flick to the forehead. It was a reward. Matsurika’s steps were light. For all her tone, she didn’t seem angry.
“Nngh…”
When he stood up from the sofa, his whole body was stiff. When he stretched, his body crackled. It was because he had slept in an unfamiliar place.
“Tachibana, are you okay? Your body, I mean.”
“Yeah. Thanks to you, I’m perfectly fine. Come on, let’s eat.”
“Right. Let’s eat.”
The two sat facing each other at the table, pressed their hands together, and said “Itadakimasu” in unison. The menu wasn’t anything new, nor was it something that would change the taste. Even so, it felt fresh to Tsutomu.
“Kariya-kun, pass the sauce.”
“Here.”
“Thanks.”
Matsurika, humming under her breath, began pouring the sauce she’d received from Tsutomu over her fried egg. That was a lot. At that rate, wouldn’t it taste only of sauce? Since she had made it, he felt it wasn’t his place to interject, so he kept quiet. The way to eat a fried egg was a delicate matter. Back when he lived at home, he had even argued about it with his stepsister. He had learned that individual schools of thought should be respected. An unnecessary dispute would be unfair to the precious breakfast.
“So you’re of the sauce school, Tachibana?”
“Yeah. What about you, Kariya-kun?”
“I eat it as is.”
“You just can’t be bothered to wash it, huh?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“It’s written all over your face.”
“Mm.”
When he put a hand to his face, Matsurika across from him let out a giggle. He thought about saying something back, but nothing came to mind. He returned his slipping glasses to their proper place, tore off a piece of freshly baked bread, and tossed it into his mouth. A fragrant aroma and flavor spread through his mouth. It was the same bread he always ate, yet it seemed more delicious than usual.
“…You don’t put anything on your bread either.”
“Yeah.”
“And the salad too, I guess.”
“That’s right. I don’t keep dressing on hand.”
“Uh-huh…”
Matsurika’s fork, which had been reaching for the salad, stopped.
“Want mayonnaise on it?”
“No, it’s fine as is.”
Matsurika extended her fork and brought vegetables to her mouth. The crisp vegetables disappeared past her moist lips. Even knowing that staring was indelicate, he couldn’t take his eyes off the movement of her pink lips. Her white throat moved as she swallowed. Even that subtle motion was clearly visible.
“I feel like a grasshopper somehow.”
“At least call yourself a rabbit or something.”
Though exasperated, he added dressing to his mental shopping list. If he were thinking only of himself, it wasn’t necessary, but there might be a chance he’d let someone stay over in the future. It wasn’t something he’d be troubled to have, so it wouldn’t be a loss. He casually constructed a rationale no one would ever hear.
Still, even so…
It was a strange sight. It was the second time he had sat around a table with Matsurika. The first had been last night. Even though not much time had passed, it didn’t feel out of place.
“…”
“What’s wrong?”
Matsurika’s eyes were wavering. A delicate shade mixed with anxiety and expectation. Searching for an answer that wouldn’t betray that gaze, he let his eyes wander in the air for a while. And then—
“No—it’s a good thing to have a meal ready right after you wake up.”
“You live alone, after all, Kariya-kun.”
Matsurika nodded as if convinced. As she said, in Tsutomu’s case, living alone, he couldn’t eat unless he prepared it himself. Having someone cook for him was itself the first time in at least a year. He made it alone, ate alone, and cleaned up alone. Eating that way, each meal gradually began to seem like a task for replenishing energy. But… when he sat at the table with Matsurika like this, just that alone lifted his heart. This meal was absolutely not a task. Seeing Tsutomu’s cheeks unconsciously relax into a smile, Matsurika also wore a gentle smile.