Chapitre 12: Cooking Classes with the Angel
Amane usually bought something to eat for lunch at school, but on days off, that wasn't
possible. He and Mahiru each had their own errands to take care of, so it was
impossible to eat both lunch and dinner together. Even if it had been doable, Amane
would've felt supremely guilty asking Mahiru to make and eat two meals with him.
Usually, Amane only needed to handle his weekend lunches himself, but if he made too
frequent use of the convenience store, Mahiru would scold him, saying something like
"You need to eat a properly balanced diet." With the costs of his dinners piling up,
Amane also felt awkward about going out to eat for lunch.
What to do for his midday meal was quickly becoming an issue.
"…I wonder if I should cook something?"
Without any errands that would take Amane out of the house, he sat at home by
himself. Noon was only an hour away.
Mahiru had likely already gotten started making something for herself, but the same
could not be said for her hapless neighbor.
When it came down to it, Amane could make something if he really had to. It wasn't
like in manga where he'd churn out some censored blob. While it wouldn't look
particularly fantastic and might not taste spectacular, the food Amane was capable of
creating was edible. It wasn't exactly cooking, but it was close enough, and it kept him
fed.
The problem was that he'd grown accustomed to Mahiru's top-rate meals, so the idea
of going back to his own dishes was not particularly appealing. Nobody would want to
go back to such plain fare after sampling such delicious works of art.
…Augh, Mahiru really spoils me.
Amane had become a slave to Mahiru's cooking. He felt ashamed at the thought of
going out to eat again, but he'd also lost interest in convenience-store meals.
Deciding that he'd been depending on Mahiru too much, Amane concluded this was a
good time to challenge himself. Even though he'd failed when it came to preparing his
own meals thus far.
Mahiru wouldn't be with him forever, after all. Things between them were nice and
reliable for now, but there were still two years of high school left, so if anything
happened during that time, this relationship of theirs might come to an abrupt end.
What's more, they would surely go their separate ways when it came time for college.
There was no way things would simply go on like this indefinitely.
I guess I'd better try to put in a little effort now, while I still have her around.
Resolving to do something, even if it was relatively minor, Amane stood up from the
sofa and grabbed his wallet.
"Oh, did you go to the supermarket?"
On his way back from the store, Amane ran into Mahiru in the apartment lobby. He
wasn't sure if the coincidental meeting was good or bad. Mahiru looked like she'd also
just gone out, because she was carrying a shopping bag from the nearby stationery
store.
"Yeah," Amane admitted. There was no need to hide it, so Amane waved his supermarket
bags to show her.
With a curious expression, Mahiru asked, "Oh, was the shopping from yesterday not
enough? Didn't you buy everything on the list?"
"N-no, that's not it… It's just… I thought I might try making lunch on my own," he said.
"…On your own?"
Despite the explanation, Mahiru's eyes seemed full of doubt. It was only natural.
Before becoming dependent on Mahiru's cooking, Amane had survived by buying
premade meals and convenience-store lunches. It must have been difficult for her to
believe that he was really going to cook for himself.
"I don't want to say anything mean," Mahiru continued, "so I'll just tell you it would be
safer for you to stop now. What if you burn yourself or get a cut?"
"…You know, it's not like I literally can't cook anything at all."
"Right, it's just that you can't cook anything that tastes good. And that's assuming you
don't kill yourself in the process."
Mahiru's thorough dressing down left Amane speechless. She'd said exactly what he
himself had been thinking.
"If you say you're going ahead with it, I won't stop you," Mahiru said, "but manage your
expectations, or you'll end up severely disappointed."
"…Fair enough," Amane conceded.
By "expectations" she must have been referring to her own cooking. Mahiru was
confident in her abilities, and she was well aware how much Amane enjoyed her food.
"It's just that, well, you're always talking about nutrition and stuff. There might be
some time in the future when I really have to live on my own, like college. I can't rely
on you forever, right?"
Overdependence on Mahiru only spelled trouble for Amane. After realizing how much
Mahiru had been spoiling him lately, he felt like he ought to be able to at least manage
the basics.
Mahiru's eyes went wide at Amane's words, then she let out a sigh that sounded just
the slightest bit impressed.
"…I think it's a great thing to set your eyes on the future, but if you're going to do that,
shouldn't you have come to me first?" she posed.
"Huh?"
"Rather than making whatever kind of mess you're about to do without my supervision,
it would be much better for me to watch and ensure nothing goes wrong. Amane, are
you confident that you won't accidentally destroy your kitchen?"
"…No." Amane sighed. He knew he made a terrible mess of his kitchen whenever he
tried to use it. With no rebuttal, he gave Mahiru a slow nod.
"It figures," Mahiru replied stolidly. "That's why it's better for me to be there, right?"
"Would that be asking too much?"
"If I didn't want to do it, I wouldn't have suggested the idea." Her voice had a bit of a
cold edge to it, but since she was agreeing to help him, Amane didn't mind. He bowed
deeply to express his gratitude.
"You don't need to be so formal," Mahiru said, sounding flustered. Amane smiled, and
the two stepped into the elevator, taking it up to their floor.
"…By the way, do you have an apron?" Mahiru inquired.
"No problems on that front. I bought one for cooking class."
"And did you use it?"
"There was really no point. All I did was measure ingredients and wash dishes."
"Figures." Mahiru sighed, as if that was exactly what she had suspected. She accompanied
Amane into his apartment. There was actually another apron already there, one that
Mahiru had left behind. Amane would've felt fairly uncomfortable using that one,
however.
Donning the apron she kept at Amane's place, Mahiru gathered her hair up into a
ponytail, like she usually did. Eyes narrowed, she watched Amane put on the darkcolored apron that he had pulled from the back of a dresser drawer.
"Wow, I've never seen you in that before, Amane. It kind of feels like the apron's
wearing you."
"Oh, well, excuuuse me."
"I guess there's nothing we can do about that. So you've already decided what you plan
to make, right? Since you went and bought the ingredients." Mahiru took a peek at the
shopping bag that Amane had set on a shelf.
Amane nodded. "Stir-fried vegetables and an omelet."
"…Veggie stir-fry because I've been scolding you to eat more vegetables and an omelet
because you like eggs, right?"
"Bull's-eye."
"It's not like it was a difficult guess. What seasonings do you have for the stir-fry?"
"This: yakiniku sauce."
"Oh… straight from the bottle, huh? I suppose it has that robust flavor that boys like…
and I guess it is tasty…"
"It's better than me trying to make something from scratch, isn't it?"
If Amane had no yakiniku sauce on hand, he'd planned on whipping up something that
used salt, pepper, and soy sauce instead. Truthfully, he was glad that he did have the
yakiniku sauce. Amane whispered a silent expression of gratitude for his good fortune
of still having a condiment he could use, then he followed Mahiru's example and
washed his hands.
While he did that, Mahiru was arranging all the necessary utensils and lining up the
ingredients so they would be easy to use. Truly, the angel's efficiency knew no bounds.
"For the veggie stir-fry, you just need to cut the vegetables up and fry them until
they're cooked evenly through, okay?… Do you know how to cut them?" Mahiru asked.
"Are you making fun of me?" Amane replied.
It was obvious he knew that much. He wasn't very good at it, but he could handle a
knife.
Under Mahiru's careful supervision, Amane began to finely slice up some cabbage, but
he quickly realized how meaningless his earlier words had been after he cut his own
finger.
First Amane had been shown how to do it, and then Mahiru left him to try on his own
while she watched. He'd done fine in the beginning, while Mahiru was helping him get
used to the task, but as soon as she'd left Amane on his own, he'd slipped up.
"…Owww," he mumbled, looking down at his finger. It was only a small cut, but it was
bleeding.
The first thing to do was wash it, but of course getting it wet would sting, too.
"…I thought something like this might happen. Here, give me that." Mahiru took a
bandage from her apron pocket and skillfully wound it around Amane's hurt finger.
He was equal parts grateful and impressed.
"You're very prepared," he complimented.
"Beginners often hurt themselves."
"You have no faith in me, do you?" Despite such an accusation, Amane knew full well
that there was no reason for her to think he was even slightly capable. He'd hurt
himself almost immediately, after all.
"I do recognize that you were trying your best," Mahiru consoled. "That's wonderful."
"Gee, thanks."
"I still would have liked you to ask me ahead of time, though."
"You say that, but it would've been awful to make you cook lunch for me, too, especially
on a weekend."
"I know you're trying to handle things by yourself, but if you mess up and it becomes
a whole situation that ends with calling me anyway… It would be easier to have just
been here from the start."
"Fine."
This time, Amane had gotten away with only a light injury, but if some terrible kitchen
disaster had happened instead, or if he had used some appliance wrong and it stopped
working, he knew he wouldn't have been able to deal with it on his own. Mahiru was
absolutely right.
"…And please don't ever try to fry anything. You'll start a fire," she added.
"I'm nowhere near advanced enough to make fried food," Amane admitted.
"I don't think it's actually quite that difficult… Once again, I'm forced to wonder how
you survived on your own all this time," Mahiru quipped.
"Sorry about all this," Amane replied in a sulky voice. "Now you know why I was living
on convenience-store food."
Mahiru looked at him with concern on her face. Amane wasn't particularly disheartened
or angry, so she had nothing to worry about, but Mahiru cast her eyes downward,
seemingly a little troubled about something anyway.
"…It's just—I'm scared of the idea of you making fried foods, Amane, so if you really
want some, please come ask me instead."
"All right then, tomorrow I want to eat fried mince cutlets." Immediately recovering
his good humor, Amane was already putting in a request for the next day's dinner.
Mahiru gave a small, relieved sigh once she heard that.
"All right, but you're eating plenty of cabbage salad on the side. And I'm making miso
soup with lots of vegetables, got it?"
"Yeah, yeah. And… thank you."
"For what?"
"For everything."
Mahiru did so much for Amane every day and still found time to worry about him.
Amane was truly grateful, even if he sometimes said stupid, hurtful things. He wasn't
sure where he'd be without her. Admitting as much felt a little embarrassing, though.
"You help me a lot," he murmured very quietly. He then promptly turned back to the
vegetables.
"Let's eat."
"Sounds good."
Grappling with the vegetables had taken nearly an hour, but it had been worth it. On
the table was a stir-fry made from clumsily cut greens, a beautifully shaped omelet…
and a pile of scrambled eggs.
Naturally, the beautiful omelet was one Mahiru had made in an attempt to provide
Amane with something to use as a reference. While Amane had tried his best to make
a second omelet, he'd ended up with scrambled eggs instead.
The failed attempt was set in front of Mahiru so she could evaluate his work. The
picture-perfect example, the platonic ideal of omelets, had been prepared for Amane.
After pressing her hands together in thanks for the food, Mahiru grabbed a piece of
the tattered eggs with her chopsticks to check the taste.
"…It's flavorless scrambled eggs, all right. Didn't you add any salt or pepper?"
"I forgot. Plus, I was supposed to be making an omelet."
"You scrambled it up too much. What were you thinking, mixing it with the chopsticks
until it fell apart? I warned you about that."
"Sorry."
Amane had forgotten to add the seasonings because he'd mixed up his egg while
Mahiru was making her omelet. Otherwise, he'd been under careful supervision
throughout the whole process. The lacking flavor and shape of his eggs was clearly
Amane's own fault.
On the other hand, Mahiru's dish was soft, fluffy, and unspeakably delicious. The
difference between them was night and day.
"…I think, for you, it was a really good attempt. The most important thing is that you
tried. Still, I'm worried that if I let you try it on your own, the cleanup afterward will
be awful, so I'd like you to take it slow, okay?" Mahiru asked.
"…I'm going to become totally reliant on you," Amane replied.
"It's a little late for that."
"Ugh…"
"Just joking. Well, not really, but I like that you appreciate my cooking, and I don't hate
teaching you to cook, either, so… really, you don't have to worry."
"…Thanks again—for everything."
It was really thanks to Mahiru's kindness that Amane was able to live as well as he
was. He owed her quite a bit, but he knew that Mahiru would hate it if he groveled too
much, so he held his head high.
Curiously, Mahiru was wearing a slightly lonesome expression as she said, "If you do
learn how to cook, Amane, I guess I'll be relieved of my duties."
It was certainly true that when Amane learned to fix his own meals, there would be
no need for Mahiru to do it for him anymore, but Amane shook his head.
"No, that's… I mean… Your cooking is the best, Mahiru, so please… I want to keep
eating it for as long as I can. Though, I guess that's kinda shameless of me to ask."
Amane would never have denied it was selfish of him to want Mahiru to continue
cooking for him, but at the same time, her food was obviously leagues better than his,
and he couldn't turn it away. The addiction had long since set in, and Amane was
terrified of being cut off.
Mahiru's eyes widened at the humble plea, and she smiled slightly. The vague tinge of
loneliness vanished in an instant.
"Ha-ha. You really are hopeless, aren't you? Well, I don't intend to stop, so you can
relax."
"…Thanks," Amane said, feeling relieved that the shade of anxiety he'd seen on her face
was gone, replaced with a faint smile.
"How about I get you to help me out sometimes? Peeling vegetables, measuring
ingredients, things like that," Mahiru proposed.
"Like a kid helping in the kitchen."
"Amane, that's where you need to start, you know?"
Since Amane's skill level truly was on par with a child's, there was really nothing he
could say back. Mahiru looked amused.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone