Several hours had already passed since Tsumugi-chan arrived. After that initial encounter at the front door, she had completely shut herself away and hadn’t shown her face since.
Had she eaten lunch somewhere, or did she have no appetite at all? There was no sign of her emerging, hungry.
The only hint of movement was when she quietly opened her bedroom door to go to the bathroom. Even her footsteps seemed to walk softly, as if to avoid making sound and evade me, so I kept missing the chance to call out to her.
“It’s not going to be that easy… is it?”
My muttered words were swallowed up by the living room, where I sat alone.
The living room lights felt a bit too harsh. Even though it was daytime, the light streaming through the gaps in the curtains was too white, hurting my eyes. A dull ache throbbed deep in my chest, but I could only tell myself that this distance was unavoidable on the first day.
It wasn’t hard to imagine how painful the decision to come to this house must have been for her. Having just lost her only family, she was now moving into her lover’s home.
What must she have been feeling when she pressed the intercom? What resolve did it take to stand at this front door? When I thought of that weight, being ignored seemed only natural.
In fact, maybe it was for the best that she wasn’t throwing things at me. If I didn’t think that way, I wouldn’t have been able to stand it.
◇
Dinnertime arrived.
In the utterly silent house, I tightened the apron strings with a firm tug. Noticing my fingertips trembling slightly, I took a deep breath.
“Alright, I’ll focus on making things Shiori liked.”
I still didn’t know Tsumugi-chan’s preferences. Did she like sweets? Was she the type to eat her vegetables properly? I hardly knew those little details.
But I couldn’t imagine that Tsumugi-chan, who loved Shiori so much, would dislike the things Shiori liked. That’s why it should at least serve as a starting point for getting closer.
Clutching only that faint hope, I gripped the kitchen knife.
The sound of chopping vegetables on the cutting board echoed in the kitchen. Thump, thump — a rhythmic sound. That sound suddenly overlapped with a nostalgic scene.
‘You’ve got a good rhythm, Akane.’
Shiori’s voice, laughing as she hugged me from behind, almost made me stop my hands.
The frying pan on the burner sizzled, and the aroma of oil spread. That smell, along with Shiori’s ‘Smells good!’, had been etched into my memory countless times.
I felt like if I turned around, Shiori would be there. But even when I turned, no one was there. Only the sound of the range hood announced reality.
But what worried me more than that was—
“Will she even eat my cooking?”
I let out a wry smile at the honest thought that slipped out.
It was only natural that someone who had rejected me so thoroughly would hate the idea of eating something I made.
She might start crying while eating. She might not even touch her chopsticks and just return to her room. Or, she might even flip the plate over.
I was prepared or at least, I thought I was. But if that actually happened, I wasn’t confident I could keep from crying.
Even so, I had to endure it. If it would lighten Tsumugi-chan’s heart even a little, I had to bear any amount of pain…
Soon, all the dishes were ready, and I arranged them on the table. Steam wafted gently upwards from the table.
Suddenly, a phantom flickered at the edge of my vision.
‘Wow, that looks delicious~! Wait a sec, let me take a picture!’
Shiori held up her phone, smiling happily. She took several shots from different angles.
‘It’s the best as always, Akane.’
That time when she said that to me would never return. I would never hear that voice again. That smiling face would never sit at this table again.
I took a deep breath and stood in front of Tsumugi-chan’s door.
“Tsumugi-chan, um… dinner’s ready. Come eat before it gets cold.”
I called out in as gentle a voice as I could, but there was no reply. However, I could sense movement through the thin door.
If she didn’t come after a reasonable time, I’d leave it outside her room. Thinking that, I had taken a few steps back towards the living room when—
Click. The sound of a door opening came from behind me.
Turning around, Tsumugi-chan was standing there. But her gaze avoided me, vaguely fixed on the floor a little below. It seemed like she had come out simply “because she was hungry.” No other emotion was visible.
Even so—
It was fine if she ignored me. It was fine if she hated me. She still came out to eat. That alone made a warm feeling spread softly in the depths of my chest.
And so we each took our seats, and in silence, our chopsticks began to move.
“How is it…? Is it good?”
Mustering my courage, I tried to ask. But Tsumugi-chan showed no reaction whatsoever. She didn’t even look my way, just continued eating.
…It was fine if she didn’t give me her thoughts. Just the fact that she was putting it in her mouth made the weight in my chest feel a tiny bit lighter.
But this silence was slowly filling my heart with loneliness.
That was the seat Shiori used to sit in when she came to eat. Back then, laughter used to echo here.
‘Man, Akane’s cooking really is the best! I wanna eat it every day.’
‘Is that a proposal?’
‘Of course! I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve said it.’
‘Thanks. But hey, Shiori, you should learn to cook a little too, you know? You gotta make sure Tsumugi-chan eats a balanced diet while she’s growing.’
‘Ugh… you’re right. But I have zero confidence I could cook like you, Akane…’
‘C’mon, c’mon, stand in the kitchen with me later. I’ll teach you how to chop things first.’
‘Ehh, I wonder if I can… But it sounds fun, okay, I’ll do it!’
Our trivial conversations overlapped, and when our eyes met, we’d naturally smile. That was normal.
Now, all that “normal” had vanished, and a different person sat before me.
Moreover, the fact that Tsumugi-chan’s face resembled Shiori’s was painful in itself. They looked alike, but she didn’t smile. They looked alike, but she felt terribly distant. They looked alike, but her eyes remained pools of deep darkness.
—Someday, would a day ever come when I could share even a little laughter with this girl?
—Someday, would a day ever come when we could talk about our memories of Shiori together?
A faint, fragile wish trembled softly in the depths of my heart. But that wish didn’t seem likely to come true anytime soon. For now, only the fact that we were sitting at the same table connected us, like a thin thread.
In the end, Tsumugi-chan said nothing even after finishing her meal.
As for me, I honestly couldn’t tell how the food tasted today. Was it not salty enough, or too salty? Was it sweet, or even bitter?
The emotions spreading in the depths of my chest were too strong; my tongue couldn’t perceive anything at all.