"There's an opening—"
In a flash, Chika leaned in and took a quick bite of the Yakisoba Bread. With an unmistakable gleam of pride in her sparkling blue eyes, she looked up at Amamiya—like a pup reveling in successfully snatching food from its owner.
"It's delicious." Chika sat back with a grin, giving a thumbs-up and puffing her cheeks. "Food always tastes better when it's someone else's."
Amamiya looked at her, silent and unimpressed. "Why are you so good at this, anyway?"
"Because I often steal food," Chika replied, closing one eye in a playful wink. "I'm practically a pro—ninety-nine wins so far."
Of course. A repeat offender. No wonder she's so skilled.
"Want some of mine?" Chika raised her lunch box, offering it generously. "Pick anything you like."
She might've been the type to snatch food, which could easily annoy others, but surprisingly, Chika was rarely disliked. Well, except when her enthusiasm for romance topics hit an all-time high, making people scatter. The reason was simple—reciprocity. Whenever she nabbed a bite from someone, she'd promptly pay them back double.
Today was no exception. Amamiya glanced at the contents of her lunch box, noting how packed it was: shrimp balls, meatballs, okra, broccoli, cherry tomatoes, fried chicken, and more.
"You sure I can pick anything I want?"
"Absolutely," Chika said confidently, lifting her chin. "The Fujiwara family motto is all about keeping our word."
"Are you sure you won't regret it?"
"Not a chance! Hurry and choose."
"Alright, then…" Amamiya's gaze slid up to Chika's face. "I choose…you, Fujiwara-san."
"Ehh?"
Chika leaned back, clutching the lunch box close to her chest. "What are you talking about? You can't eat me!"
Amamiya raised an eyebrow, deadpan. "How do you know if we haven't tried? Fujiwara-san looks fresh and delicious, plump and juicy. I'd love to take a big bite."
"No way!" Chika's cheeks puffed up indignantly as a blush spread across her pale face. "I'm not a snack item."
"Let's recall what you said just now," Amamiya continued smoothly. "You said I could pick anything I like. You didn't say I couldn't choose you, so I simply followed my heart."
Chika: "…"
Absolutely not!
Eating lunch alone with a boy on the rooftop—this is way too intense for a first experience! Her face turned redder as she swelled with indignation, cheeks puffed like a pufferfish. "Get lost! I'm not sharing anymore."
"What was that?" Amamiya leaned in, pretending to listen intently. "Didn't someone just say the Fujiwara family always keeps their promises?"
Chika: "…"
Now her feet hurt—she'd finally learned what it meant to "shoot yourself in the foot."
"That beef meatball looks pretty good," Amamiya remarked, eyeing her lunch box.
"Here, take it," Chika said, sighing as she handed over the lunch box.
Amamiya reached for it but paused. "No chopsticks?"
"Use your hands."
"I didn't wash my hands after the bathroom."
"Ugh, gross! Go wash your hands."
Amamiya smiled slyly. "I once heard… food tastes better when someone else feeds it to you."
Chika: "…"
So that was it; he just wanted her to feed him.
Without chopsticks and nowhere to wash his hands, she gave in, reluctantly preparing to feed him herself.
Chika placed her lunch box on her lap, carefully picked up a meatball with her chopsticks, steadying it with her left hand so it wouldn't fall, and held it out toward Amamiya.
"For you."
"Ah…"
Amamiya opened his mouth, waiting expectantly.
Chika frowned and leaned in. "You're supposed to bite it yourself!"
She couldn't believe it—she'd held the food right up to his mouth, and he still expected her to feed him? Couldn't he just take a bite?
With a smirk, Amamiya finally bit into the meatball, sat back, and gave her a thumbs-up. "Just as I thought—food really does taste better when someone else feeds you."
Chika puffed out her cheeks, watching him, and imitated him sarcastically, "…Why are you so good at this?"
"Honestly?" Amamiya swallowed his bite and grinned. "It's all thanks to your expert guidance."
"Hey, I never taught you any of this!"
"Well, sometimes students surpass their teachers."
"…"
Amamiya glanced at her lunch box again. "Mind if I get a cherry tomato?"
Once something starts, it's always easier to ask for it a second time.
Chika picked up a cherry tomato with her chopsticks, handing it over. "By the way, what's the difference between cherry tomatoes and regular tomatoes?"
"Not much, actually," Amamiya replied casually. "In fact, the earliest tomatoes looked a lot like cherry tomatoes, way smaller than the ones we see today."
He continued, "Nearly all the fruits and vegetables we know today are products of selective breeding, drastically different from their original forms. Take tomatoes, for instance. They came from South America and were no bigger than grapes when first discovered. Since they were thought to be poisonous, Europeans grew them as ornamental plants for centuries."
"Wait—poisonous?" Chika's eyes widened.
"No need to worry," Amamiya chuckled. "Apples are technically poisonous, too, but you'd need to eat a few hundred kilos at once for it to be dangerous."
As they talked, the sound of the rooftop door opening rang out, and a clear, familiar voice drifted over.
"I'm here!"
It could only be Umi.
Startled, Chika's hand slipped, sending the chopsticks and the cherry tomato right into Amamiya's mouth.
"Amamiya, Chika—I made it," Umi called, walking over with a grin as she spotted them.
Chika quickly pulled back her chopsticks, sitting up straight and fixing her gaze ahead.
"Sorry I'm late," Umi said as she settled beside Amamiya, exhaling as she opened her lunch box. "I was going to come up as soon as the bell rang, but the teacher called me to the office."
She glanced at Amamiya with wide, inquisitive eyes.
"Why did he call you?" Amamiya asked.
"Good question," Umi replied with a sigh. "He asked me why I was sleeping in class and why my test scores dropped. Took forever to smooth things over… I'm starving, let's eat."
"I mean, evil spirits lurk around every corner. Who can focus on studying?" Chika chimed in, glancing down at her chopsticks.
A faint glisten of moisture caught her eye—the saliva from when she'd accidentally fed Amamiya.
After hesitating for a couple of seconds, a slight blush crept across her face. She picked up her lunch box and resumed eating.
"If I wipe them now, Umi might get suspicious... Whatever, it's not like I haven't done it before."