I mean, she’s right. She’s doing the right thing, but…
What was this feeling of disappointment? It felt as if his body had become a filthy pathogen, and his thrilling fantasy of being pampered by a sexy nurse had transformed into something more innocent and medical.
I was a fool for ever believing the most beautiful girl in class would pamper me!
Masachika stared off into space, once again realizing that fantasies born from 2D worlds were nothing like reality.
“Besides, I brought a lot with me, and I’d rather not have to lug it all back,” argued Alisa, lifting the bag filled to bursting with various items. It looked like she had brought food in addition to medicine. Telling her to go home after carrying all this here on a hot day would be a sin, regardless of whether Masachika had asked her to or not.
“All right… I guess I could use a little help if that’s okay with you…”
He gave up and welcomed her inside, since he was both physically and mentally at his breaking point.
“Thanks.”
But right as Alisa stepped inside and the door shut, Masachika suddenly couldn’t relax anymore. The chirping of the cicadas outside receded until the inside of his house was drowning in palpable silence. The fact that he was home alone with a girl was really sinking in, and even something as innocent as locking the door started to feel wrong.
“Kuze.”
“Y-yeah?”
“Here, put on a mask.”
“Oh… Right…”
Despite feeling somewhat nervous, his expression turned dead serious the moment she handed him a mask. It felt like she was saying, “Put on a mask, you filthy scum.” Of course, Alisa would never really think something like that. At any rate, he still felt that masks were the enemy of romantic comedy scenes.
You can’t kiss if you’re wearing a mask… Now that I think about it, having half your face covered basically kills any chance of a game or movie even being a romantic comedy… Wait. There have been some heroines as of late who have had their entire faces hidden behind masks. But even then, these heroines are cute because anime and comics can use effects and whatnot to make them expressive, even when you can’t see their faces, but it’d be terrifying to actually see an expressive mask in real life. Anyway, if you’re going to cover your face, then I definitely prefer a blindfold over the eyes more than a mask over the mouth. If Alisa were actually blindfolded, I’d look and feel like a criminal, and I don’t even want to talk about the fanfics that would be written about her, and what am I even thinking about anymore?
Masachika’s nerdy imagination ran wild as he put his mask on, standing in a bit of a daze and swaying slightly.
“Kuze? Are you okay?” she asked with a worried expression.
“Now I get it… You get a sense of guilty pleasure because it seems bad. It’s the thrill of doing wrong. I guess that’s just another thing that makes blindfolded heroines better.”
“…You’re definitely not okay.”
“…I agree.”
Feeling embarrassed by her pitying gaze, Masachika decided it was best to take Alisa to the living room before he said anything worse.
“This is the sink, and this is the toilet. And that…don’t go in there. That room over there is my room… And this is the living room. Just put your stuff down wherever you want. Oh, and there’s some water and barley tea in the fridge if you’re thirsty. Grab a cup and help yourself. Any questions?”
“I’ll let you know if I have any. Anyway, you really should lie down and get some rest.”
“Yeah, I think I’ll take you up on that offer…”
He was quick to agree, since simply standing was hard enough for him, and he headed back to his room. After collapsing onto his bed, he reached to move his smartphone out of the way…and it suddenly started vibrating. Another text message from Yuki popped up on the screen.
> Stop imagining Alya in a blindfold.
“What the hell? Is she psychic?” muttered Masachika, wondering how her timing could have been so perfect, unless she really could read minds. His phone suddenly vibrated once more.
> This isn’t mind reading. It’s just love.
“How do you say something like that without dying of embarrassment?”
> How do you complain to a phone like that without dying of embarrassment?
“You little…! There’s no way you’re not reading my mind! Damn esper!” barked Masachika, straining his throat and immediately coughing.
> Your throat must be hurting. Don’t scream too much, okay?
“…”
> By the way, only a nerd would use the word esper. Most people probably don’t even know what that is.
Masachika tossed his phone somewhat roughly toward the bedside, not even in the mood to argue with an inanimate object anymore, and pretended to not see a message that suddenly popped up saying, Ouch! She was far too good at knowing what her older brother was thinking, and they weren’t even twins.
I need to check my room for hidden cameras and bugs later…
He rolled onto his back with that decision in mind.
“Kuze? Can I come in?”
“Hmm? …Sure,” he replied after taking a sweeping glance of his room and checking if there was anything embarrassing lying around.
I should be fine. I don’t keep dirty magazines under my bed like they do in comics for boys, and I don’t have any picture frames suggestively placed facedown like they do in comics for girls.
If someone searched his closet, they might find something that suggested he used to be a part of the Suou family, but there was nothing like that in plain sight, since Masachika himself obviously didn’t want to be reminded.
“Okay. I’m coming in.”
Alisa was holding an unfamiliar water bottle when she hesitantly stepped into the room, and she held it out to him after she had a hard time finding a place to put it.
“Here. I brought you some tea with honey if you want it.”
“Oh, thanks. Sorry, but do you think you could pull out that thing with a knob on my desk? Looks like a shelf. It turns into a side table…”
She pulled the shelf on wheels out of the study desk, then rolled the side table next to the bed before placing the water bottle on it.
“So, uh… Do you want anything to eat? If you are feeling well enough to eat, of course.”
“Yeah, sure. You don’t have to be so nervous, by the way.”
“I’m not nervous… I’m just feeling a little restless,” she claimed, her eyes wandering.
“<And it smells like teenage boy in here, too…,>” she added in a whisper.
That’s not something you should whisper! And don’t act bashful after saying that, either!
Alisa began to anxiously play with her hair while glancing at Masachika, making him feel uncomfortable as their interaction morphed into a rom-com.
“So, uh… Which do you prefer? Porridge or borscht?” she asked shyly.
“Nobody has ever asked me that before,” joked Masachika with a straight face, taken aback by the bizarre, seemingly mismatched options. Alisa pouted somewhat and rambled:
“Borscht is really good for you, you know? You boil the vegetables until they’re really soft, so it’s really easy to eat, even if you’re sick. Plus, it has garlic and onions, which can boost your immune system. And beets are great for your digestive system, so—”
“All right, all right. I get it. You’re starting to sound like some little old lady from the countryside.”
“…”
Although that was a pretty rude thing to say to a young lady her age, Alisa fell silent as if she was at a loss for words. Perhaps she really did learn all that from her grandmother in Russia.
“So? Which is it going to be?”
“Well, it’s not often I get offered borscht, so let’s go with that…”
“…Okay. It should be ready in four hours, so—”
“You’re asking me to wait four hours? Four whole hours?” he exclaimed after hearing what he thought must have been a joke, but she frowned as though she was dead serious.
“I mean, a lot of ingredients go into making borscht… I could make it quicker if I used a pressure cooker, but that’s sacrilege.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t even know the difference. Anyway, if that’s the case, I’m fine with regular ol’ porridge. Oh, sorry. I mean, as long as you don’t mind making it, because I feel really guilty about asking you to cook for me…”
Even speaking started to hurt, his voice gradually weakening before he collapsed lethargically back down onto the bed.
“All right. I’m going to use your kitchen to make you some porridge, okay?”
“Thanks…,” he muttered somewhat lifelessly, watching Alisa open the door to his room, take out her phone, and type something. He followed the movement of her fingers…and narrowed his eyes, pulling his lips back.
“She is legit looking up how to make porridge…,” said Masachika unenthusiastically after Alisa left.
All you do is cook rice in water or soup stock, then add some salt, right? Surely there’s no way you could mess that up.
At least, that’s what Masachika thought.
“Ohhh… You flavor it with salt, not sugar? I guess that makes sense. This isn’t kasha, after all,” Alisa mused to herself.
Okay, she could definitely mess it up. Big-time. Kasha is one of Russia’s versions of porridge, where oatmeal or buckwheat groats are used instead of rice, milk instead of soup stock, and sugar instead of salt. Therefore, Alisa made the right choice looking up how to make Japanese porridge. One mistake could have led to a truly bizarre conversation.
“Blech! You used sugar instead of salt!”
“Yes. Of course I did. So what?”
“Huh?”
“Huh?”
“Hmm… So if I use one of these microwavable rice packets…can I just dump it into the pot? …Wait. I should probably microwave it first.”
With a smartphone in one hand, Alisa placed one of the rice packets she bought into the microwave.
“‘With plenty of water’? How many liters is ‘plenty’?” she muttered in annoyance at the vague instructions, referencing a few different recipes and filling the pot with water.
“Oh, the rice is done… Ouch, ouch, ouch! That’s hot! Ow, ow, ow!”
Not only was she startled by how hot the rice packet was, but the instant she peeled off the top, she was hit with a gust of hot steam, startling her once more. She managed to bring the rice packet over to the pot by holding the edges, but she was in such a fluster to rid herself of the hot food that she tilted it too far sideways, causing the entire pack of rice to fall into the pot as if it were a giant rice ball, splashing water into the air. And because she held the pack right in front of herself, some water splashed onto her stomach as well.
“…”
Drops of water splattered about the kitchen, and her clothes were wet enough that she would have trouble brushing off any suspicion if Masachika asked her what happened. She looked hard at herself, frozen in place…until she eventually lifted her head slowly and wiped her clothes and the kitchen dry with a handkerchief.
“I’m fine. I just need to put on an apron, and problem solved.”
Alisa pulled an apron out of her bag, swiftly slipped into it, and began cooking once more as though nothing had happened. “How did that solve anything?” one might wonder, but perhaps she was referring to saving her dignity, because Masachika wouldn’t be able to tell that she had spilled water on herself now.
“…How much water did I lose from that?”
Once again, she found herself worried about the amount of water in the pot. Only after adding what appeared to be an adequate amount back did she turn on the stove.
“…”
She put the lid on the pot, waiting for it to cook. Waiting. Waiting.
“…Is this really all I had to do? I feel like I’m forgetting something…”
Alisa started to grow somewhat anxious with nothing to do but wait, so she decided to remove the lid and stir the pot again for no particular reason, then began to go over the recipe once more to make sure she didn’t miss anything.
“‘Until it thickens’? Thickens how much? They could have at least been more specific, like, ‘Until there’s no liquid left.’”
She continued to mumble to herself until she eventually finished cooking the porridge.
“This looks about right…I guess?”
After pouring the porridge into a bowl, she topped it off with long onions (which took her an entire five minutes to dice), then grabbed a spoon and the saltshaker so Masachika could make it as salty as he wanted.
Why is there a dent here?
But when she arrived in front of his room, she wondered why there was a small dent underneath the doorknob before stepping inside.
“Kuze, I brought you some porridge.”
“Oh… Thanks.”
Masachika was lying limply over the bed, his voice slightly hoarse and eyes somewhat hazy. He was uncharacteristically showing Alisa his weaker side. And because of that…
I want to rub his head until he falls asleep…
Her maternal instincts kicked in, but she immediately trashed that idea, crushing it into a million pieces before they drifted off into the dark depths of her mind. And during that time, Masachika slowly raised his right hand and gave her a thumbs-up.
“An apron, huh? …Nice.”
“…Sounds like you’re feeling better already,” barked Alisa with disgust, thankful that her mask was covering her lips and cheeks as she walked over to his bedside… Little did she know, her ears, which weren’t hidden behind a mask, were completely red as well. Masachika obviously noticed.
“Are you well enough to eat?”
“Yeah… I think.”
He shuffled his body until he could sit up and dangle his legs off the side of the bed. After tiresomely ripping the mask off his face, he grabbed the spoon next to the porridge.
“…You’re not going to blow on my porridge to cool it down for me?”
“Do you want me to?”
“…I was joking,” said Masachika awkwardly before thanking her one more time and taking a bite of his meal.
“…It’s good,” he softly muttered to Alisa, who was sitting in his chair watching him.
“Good.”
She didn’t really know what made rice porridge good or bad or if there even was such a thing as good porridge. Nevertheless, she was glad he didn’t say it tasted awful. She continued to watch him eat for the next few minutes until she realized how uncomfortable it must be to be stared at while eating. She shifted her gaze and focus to his room.
“…”
The first thing she noticed was how (surprisingly) clean his room was. He didn’t have much stuff, to be more precise. Despite always claiming to be a nerd, he didn’t have a huge bookshelf stuffed with comics and light novels, nor did he have anime figures on his desk. In fact, there was almost nothing like that in sight, save for a few comics stacked on his study desk.
“…All my nerdy stuff is in another room,” interjected Masachika as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
“O-oh.”
Alisa awkwardly looked forward and promptly tried to change the subject.
“So… Where are your parents?”
It was a question that had been on her mind for a while now.
“My dad’s at work, and I don’t have a mother.”
“Huh…?”
“Oh, it’s not like it’s a secret or anything, but it’s just me and my dad here,” he casually added.
“Oh… I had no idea…”
She seemed to be shaken up a little, but Masachika sluggishly continued to talk as if it wasn’t a big deal.
“It’s not like she’s dead. My parents are divorced, just like plenty of people nowadays.”
“Yeah…”
Despite probably feeling awful due to his fever, he still spoke of his mother as though she was a pain in his ass, and it made Alisa feel somewhat sad. Only now had she realized why his grandfather came to the parent-teacher conference the day before, and she was disappointed in herself because she believed she was sharper than that. And at the very same time, she was shocked because she suddenly realized she didn’t know Masachika that well, after all.
I didn’t know when his birthday was until the other day, now that I think about it…
She hadn’t known his birthday, even after sitting next to him for over a year, and she’d never thought about his family situation until he brought it up. Coming to this harsh reality only made Alisa more disappointed in herself. And seeing that it wasn’t a secret, it would be safe to assume his childhood friends Yuki and Ayano already knew. Just the thought of them celebrating his birthday in this lonely house while she was left in the dark filled her with frustration, but perhaps she would have never known about Masachika’s family situation if Yuki hadn’t asked her to check up on him. So perhaps she should be grateful and thank Yuki instead…as much as she didn’t want to.
Once Kuze gets better, I’m going to start talking to him more to get to know him better.
Right when she secretly came to that decision, Masachika finished his porridge.
“Masha made that tea, by the way, so I’ll pass along your appreciation.”
“Thanks.”
“Now for your medicine. Oh, wait. Maybe you should change first?” she suggested after noticing how sweaty and messy his pajamas were.
“Come on, Alya. What kind of fan service would this be if you weren’t the one undressing me and wiping the sweat off my body?” jested Masachika.
“Stop joking around and get changed already. I’ll go get you a glass of water and your medicine.”
“…Yes, ma’am.”
“Do you need a towel and some hot water?”
“Nah, I’ll just use these pajamas to wipe off the sweat.”
“Okay… Oh, where do you keep your thermometer, by the way?”
“It’s…”
After learning where they kept the thermometer, Alisa took his empty bowl and spoon to the kitchen sink, where she washed them, but right when she was going to put them on the rack to dry…
“Oh…”
She found the mug she gave him for his birthday.
He’s actually using it…
It warmed her heart. Her hand naturally grabbed the cup as she grinned bashfully from ear to ear. An entire ten seconds went by before she suddenly came back to her senses and put the cup back down quickly. Her eyes darted to her left, then right, confirming that no one had seen her. After clearing her throat for no good reason and calming herself down, she filled a glass with water and grabbed the medicine along with a few other items before heading back to his room.
“Can I come in?”
“…Come in.”
When she stepped inside the room, Masachika had already changed into a different pair of pajamas and was waiting for her, sitting on the edge of the bed. The freshly stripped pajamas he had been wearing were nowhere in sight, but perhaps he hid them in fear that she’d see such an embarrassing monstrosity.
“Here, this is your medicine, and this is one of those cooling patches you put on your forehead… And here’s your thermometer.”
“Thanks.”
Masachika placed the thermometer under his armpit, then washed down the medicine with a glass of water. After a few seconds went by, the thermometer beeped, so he reached to pull it out…and a mischievous smirk suddenly curled his lips.
“Want to take a guess at my temperature?”
“Just show me the thermometer.”
“Mmm… Fine. I’ll guess! Let’s go with…38.4 degrees Celsius!”
“…”
“Ugh! I was so close! Looks like I’ve got a 38.6-degree fever. Cough! Hack!”
“Stop playing around and get some sleep.”
“Cough! Ngh… Fine.”
After Alisa combed back his bangs, she stuck a cooling gel sheet on his forehead, and he collapsed onto the bed with a thud. He squirmed around for a bit to get comfortable, pulled the mask back over his nose, then relaxed every muscle in his body.
“…I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me today. Seriously. I’ll pay you back once I get better. Just leave the receipts on my desk.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“No, I need to pay you back. Please.”
“Okay, okay. Whatever you want.”
“Thanks. Now…I should get some sleep. You can go home now. The key should be…”
“You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be in the living room studying.”
“What? You don’t need to stay here anymore. You—”
“You’re sick. Stop worrying about me and get some sleep.”
“Okay…”
She turned off the lights, and Masachika closed his eyes in resignation, but after a few moments went by, he heard what sounded to be Alisa’s footsteps walking back to his room.
She probably came back for the cup and thermometer…
Or so he thought, up until the moment he heard a chair squeak nearby, contrary to his expectations, and it was followed by a hand gently patting his chest in a rhythmic manner, like a mother trying to soothe her child to sleep.
“…Alya?”
“What?”
“This is kind of embarrassing,” was what he wanted to say after instinctively opening his eyes, but he held his tongue the moment he saw her piercing gaze.
“Thank you…for so much. That’s all.”
“It’s the least I can do… You’re always helping me, after all…”
“Not as much as you help me.”
He closed his eyes once more after adding, “Like when I forget my textbooks,” and instantly felt the land of dreams rapidly pulling him into another world, perhaps thanks to Alisa’s hand gently tapping his chest.
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