After returning from the supermarket to his room in the old apartment building, Sora headed straight for the bathroom and took a shower.
He had gotten quite a bit of fish smell on himself while processing fish, and it was honestly unpleasant.
After finishing his shower, Sora walked into the kitchen, washed his hands, and took out the sea bream he had bought that night.
He mixed eggs and flour into a batter.
Then he heated oil and started frying fish.
Back in his previous world, Sora’s cooking skills had only been at a home-cooking level.
While he couldn’t compare to the professional chefs of this world, his food was definitely far from bad.
After spending some time in the kitchen, he finished frying all the sea bream.
One portion was set aside for dinner.
Another portion was prepared for Miyuri.
As for the rest, while they were still piping hot from the fryer, Sora stored them directly in his inventory.
That way, the next time he took them out, they would still be steaming hot and ready to eat.
Carrying a plate of fried fish, Sora headed downstairs.
At the first floor, he knocked on the door.
“Coming!
Who is it?” The door opened, revealing Miyuri’s face.
“Oh?
Sora-kun?” Smiling, Sora lowered his head slightly and handed over the plate.
“Miyuri-san, I made fried fish tonight, but I accidentally cooked too much.
I thought I’d bring some over for you to try.” [TL: Change how the Mc adress Miyuri from “Miss” to “-san” because they seem close enough] “Ah, that’s too kind!” “My cooking isn’t anything special.
I hope you won’t mind.” “Not at all!
It smells amazing!
Sora-kun, come inside!
I just made some fresh juice this afternoon.
You have to try it!” “Then excuse me for intruding.” Miyuri grabbed Sora’s hand and pulled him inside.
The sound of coins dropping into a bag echoed in his mind.
Good.
Daily check-in complete.
Carrying the plate, Sora entered the room.
He had visited Miyuri’s apartment once before when helping her deal with the snake.
At the time, he hadn’t paid much attention.
Now that he had the chance, he took a proper look around.
A chandelier.
A fireplace.
High-backed armchairs.
An ornate carpet.
A grandfather clock.
The overall style was classic Western décor.
Sora placed the plate on the dining table and sat down.
Fortunately, he had showered beforehand.
Otherwise, showing up covered in fish smell and sitting on someone else’s luxurious sofa would have been embarrassing.
Miyuri emerged from the kitchen carrying a glass pitcher.
Inside was a bright red liquid.
It looked suspiciously like blood.
“Ta-da!
Here it is!” “And this is…?” “Fresh watermelon juice!” “Oh…” Sora nodded, though inwardly puzzled.
Could watermelon juice really be that red?
Miyuri brought out two clean glasses and filled them.
“Here, Sora-kun!
Cheers!” Sora picked up his glass and clinked it against hers before taking a cautious sip.
Sweet.
Refreshing.
Distinctly watermelon-flavored.
So it really was just watermelon juice.
Miyuri casually picked up a piece of fried fish with her fingers and popped it into her mouth.
“Wow, this is delicious!
I never expected your cooking to be this good, Sora-kun!” “You’re exaggerating.
I just followed a recipe.” “That means you’re talented!
Have you ever considered becoming a chef?” “Not at the moment.” “That’s such a waste!” Wiping the oil from her fingers, Miyuri refilled Sora’s glass.
“This one’s to thank you for helping me spread the snake repellent yesterday.
I finally got a proper night’s sleep.
Honestly, I slept until noon today and completely made up for the sleep I lost the night before…” Sora listened while slowly drinking.
Buying watermelons this early in summer and turning them into juice was considered quite extravagant in Japan.
Miyuri was definitely wealthy.
Her income couldn’t possibly come from this old apartment building alone.
After finishing another glass of juice, Sora stood up to leave.
“Wait a moment, Sora-kun!” Miyuri carried the plate into the kitchen, transferred the fried fish onto another dish, washed the original plate, and returned it.
“I could’ve washed it myself.” “No way!” Taking the clean plate, Sora’s impression of her improved even further.
Perhaps his earlier assumptions had been mistaken.
Miyuri wasn’t that kind of strange woman after all.
Carrying the plate, Sora headed upstairs.
Miyuri stood at the doorway, smiling as she watched his departing figure.
A glimmer of interest flashed through her eyes.
Only after he disappeared from sight did she return to the kitchen and pick up the plate of fried fish.
Standing by the door, she slowly savored each bite.
“Though it can’t compare to the professionals from Totsuki, this dish contains a young boy’s pure sincerity…” Miyuri narrowed her eyes, an expression of enjoyment appearing on her face.
Before long, someone else came downstairs.
Silver hair.
An expressionless face.
Delicate features.
It was Mifuyu Yukino.
Miyuri smiled.
“Heading out to work, Mifuyu-san?” Mifuyu glanced at her and replied flatly.
“Yes.” Miyuri raised the plate.
“Want some fried fish?
Sora-kun made it.
It’s actually pretty good.” Mifuyu’s gaze fell on the golden, crispy fish.
Sora.
The high school student living next door.
A faint frown appeared on her face.
Looking at Miyuri, she said coldly: “I’m warning you.
Don’t lay a hand on ordinary people.” Miyuri sighed.
“You’re so scary, Mifuyu-san.
I’ve always followed the rules.” Mifuyu didn’t respond.
She simply walked away.
Watching her leave, Miyuri pouted.
She tossed another piece of fish into her mouth and muttered: “That woman’s so mean.
No wonder nobody will ever want her…” “But Sora-kun is interesting.
He feels different from the other tenants.
Maybe it’s because he’s a transfer student?
I wonder if he…” Her voice faded into an inaudible whisper.
Opening her mouth slightly, she placed one of her fingers between her lips and slowly licked away the remaining fish crumbs.
At that moment, she looked strangely seductive.
—— Mifuyu walked outside and threw away a garbage bag.
Opening the small shoulder bag she carried, she took out her phone and checked the time.
Still early.
She could have dinner first.
No.
For her, it was more like breakfast.
Putting her phone away, she revealed the contents of her bag.
Unlike most women, it wasn’t filled with cosmetics.
Besides her phone, identification cards, and some cash, there was only a single old videotape.
“Miyuri has it rough too.” A slightly hoarse female voice suddenly sounded.
It came from the videotape.
Mifuyu remained expressionless.
“If she keeps suppressing her instincts, won’t they only erupt even more violently in the end?” “That’s her problem.” Mifuyu replied calmly.
“I only clean up afterward.” “Then let’s wish good luck to that young man living next door…”