Monogatari Series - Volume 8 - Chapter 1.15

015

End of flashback.

“Half past one in the afternoon… Seems like we got a lot of sleep. Did you just wake up too, Miss Hanekawa?”

“Yeah, more or less.”

“Ah. I never imagined I’d get to wake up on the same futon as you.”

“Could you not say things that sound like they could be pillow talk?”

“I’m such a high-strung person that I can’t sleep very deeply, but it feels like I was knocked right out. Could it have been the pillow?”

“When you say that, are you talking about your dad’s pillow? Or are you talking about your hug pillow?” I asked, though neither would be appropriate.

Then again, I was in no position to talk. I slept so soundly myself that I didn’t have any dreams at all. I don’t know if it was thanks to Miss Senjogahara’s pillow, or the futon, or the hug…

No, stop.

There really wasn’t any hugging going on.

“All right, then. Aren’t you hungry? I was thinking of making us breakfa─no, lunch,” offered Miss Senjogahara.

“Oh, that sounds good. I’d love to join you.”

“Is there anything you can’t eat?”

“No.”

“’Kay,” she said, crawling out of bed toward the bathroom. Her plan must have been to wash her face to wake up fully before wielding a knife.

Returning, she headed straight to the kitchen.

Of course, while I call it a kitchen, this was a single, hundred-square-foot room, so we were basically in the same space.

“Hmm, hmm, hmm…”

Miss Senjogahara hummed as she donned an apron.

She seemed excited for some reason.

Maybe she liked cooking?

I recalled Araragi complaining to me that it was hard to get her to cook him anything, but I also realized I hadn’t heard anything about that lately. Did it mean he’d finally savored a home-cooked meal prepared by his lover?

“Miss Hanekawa?”

“Yes?”

“Would you get turned on if I suddenly stripped down to nothing but this apron?”

“I’d get pissed off.”

I see, she nodded, pulling ingredients out from the refrigerator.

It looked like I wouldn’t have to get pissed off. I felt relieved, because I didn’t know how to.

“By the way, Miss Hanekawa, did you know ‘bean sprout’ uses the same character as for moé? I’ve found them delicious ever since I learned that.”

“Well, I think they kept tasting the same to me…”

“In which case…” Miss Senjogahara turned around with a dashing look─the tip of her knife pointed my way. “Maybe calling a kid a ‘bean sprout’ wouldn’t be as insulting as calling them a beanpole.”

“Bean sprout…”

To be honest, it wasn’t a very funny or smart observation, but she did have a knife pointed my way. I had to pick my reaction wisely.

Though blades really did suit her, I had to admit.

“Do you like your toast with butter or cream cheese?” she continued.

“Oh, so you’ve already decided we’re having bread, not rice?”

“Of course we are. I’m preparing you a real spread here. Why else would people talk about eating three square meals a day? If we were supposed to eat rice, wouldn’t it be three round meals?”

“I think they make round bread too…”

And you could always just say breakfast, lunch, and dinner like a normal person.

There seemed to be a lot of holes in Miss Senjogahara’s logic.

“Hmm, you’re right about that,” she admitted. “It’s a logical hole that ‘three round meals’ sounds like something you’d eat while watching a short fight.”

“No, there are bigger holes here than that. Anyway, do you really keep both butter and cream cheese here?”

“Of course not. We just have a mysterious blended product.”

“Mysterious, you say…”

“You know, that stuff that comes in a tub.”

“What’s your point?”

“The first time I tried it, I couldn’t believe it wasn’t butter.”

“You’re about fifteen years late for that joke to be funny.”

Yes, there really was a time when such statements about margarine were in fashion.

“Don’t worry, my dad is really picky when it comes to bread. We even have our own bread machine. This thing’s expensive, you know. Doesn’t it look out of place in this kitchen?”

“Hmm.”

She was right, it did. If I may, it looked more expensive than any of the furniture there. We didn’t have one at our house, so I secretly began to get my hopes up.

“Miss Hanekawa, do you cook often?”

“Yes, I do.”

I didn’t know how much I wanted to go into the topic because giving too straight an answer always got people creeped out by the Hanekawa family situation. But she was looking after me, so it seemed only right to give her at least a few details. Not to mention that she’d met the two who should be called my parents. There was no point in awkwardly trying to keep up appearances here. I’d even told her about sleeping in the hallway─

No.

This wasn’t about things “seeming only right” or having “no point.”

I simply wanted to tell her.

I didn’t want to hide much from someone who’d been so worried for me.

“Everything I ate, I made for myself.”

“Oh. There was a time in my life like that, too. My mom and I weren’t on good terms.”

“…They got divorced, right?”

“Yes. I haven’t met her since then─but I do wonder where that woman is now, and what she’s doing. I just hope she’s happy.” Despite her words, her tone didn’t sound particularly concerned─her knife continued to chop vegetables the entire time. I don’t know if that was natural or unnatural. “There’s a lot that happens in any home, really.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Cutting the heat on the pot just as the bread maker let us know that our bread was ready, she began plating our food. She probably had this routine calculated out.

While I did ask her if there was anything I could do to help, she refused to the end, insisting that I let her handle it all. She disliked people getting in the way of her rhythm. Soon, the low dining table featured a full lineup of plates─I did at least help her carry over the dishes.

“Thank you for this meal.”

“Thank you for this meal.”

Bread, tea, and vegetables with chicken.

I was a bit happy for whatever reason that she’d made such basic home-cooked food instead of anything too fancy. Explaining the feeling would take quite a bit of work, though, so I decided not to convey it to her.

We ate.

“Oh, this is good.”

“Really? It is?” She looked surprised. “Araragi didn’t seem very happy. To be honest, I was prepared for you to bash it.”

“Bash…”

And wait, Araragi didn’t seem very happy…

Hmm.

He needed to work on being better boyfriend material.

Even if the food wasn’t to his taste, he should at least pretend to enjoy it.

Though it was very like him not to.

“Well, I think it tastes good,” I said. “Then again, taste is a personal thing.”

“So in other words, you and I have similar tastes. In food and in men.”

I spit out my tea.

It was a horrible display of manners on my part.

“Miss Senjogahara…you’re sometimes too open about─”

“Well, no, I thought if we really want to be honest with each other, it might be best to go ahead and talk about this with you.”

“It feels like one wrong move could drive a wedge between us, but okay…”

She never backed down from a challenge, did she?

Then again, I was also glad that she broached the subject─because it was a hard one for me to broach, even if I tried.

“So, Miss Senjogahara, how about we just put it out there and say what each of us love about Araragi?”

“No, we shouldn’t put it out there, in case this conversation leaks somehow. It’d give him a big head.”

“I see…”

She was very stern when it came to her boyfriend.

It seemed like she was no carrot and all stick.

“What should we talk about, then?” I asked.

“Well, why don’t we tell each other what we hate about Araragi?”

“Sounds good!”

The next three hours were a whirlwind of our truest feelings.

I’d let myself get excited over badmouthing someone…