The sharp tangy flavor hit her tongue like a vacuum cleaner sucking at her taste buds, running all the way down her throat to her stomach wall. It forcefully drew out her saliva and appetite at once. Paired with that perfect balance of salty and sweet, rich but not cloying, it was the kind of taste that demanded more rice to hold its own. A dieter’s worst nightmare.
And beneath that sauce, the batter, crisp at the edges yet tender inside, contrasted beautifully with the juicy pork wrapped within.
"This is... ketchup-fried pork tempura?"
"Sweet and sour pork."
Haruaki gave Nogami a speechless look. Half the rice in her bowl was already gone. Then, intrigued, he asked,
"So? How’s the taste, Nogami-san?"
"It’s... tolerable, I guess."
The little grain of rice clinging to the corner of her mouth, glazed in sauce, betrayed her completely. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵•𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒•𝙣𝙚𝙩
If he could get a prim, elegant lady like her so absorbed she forgot her manners, then maybe his cooking skills hadn’t gotten too rusty after all.
As for where he learned to cook?
Well... he’d say it was just one of those “refined bachelor survival skills.”
Though the truth was simpler, his family didn’t allow him to order takeout too often.
Nogami seemed satisfied with his carefully prepared dinner, but Haruaki was far more concerned about his sisters’ opinions.
After all, it wasn’t like Nogami would be coming over for dinner every night.
So while he quietly picked up his rice with chopsticks, he used the corner of his eye to observe his sisters’ reactions,
She seemed to really like the light mushroom soup, now already on her second bowl.
But wait... wasn’t she the one who said she wanted vegetarian dishes? Then why was her bowl piled with sweet and sour pork?
Hey! Don’t play with your food! You’ll get scolded by the elders!
...Actually, maybe it didn’t count as “playing.” She was just pressing the tofu against her tongue and drawing it in through her lips, strange, but harmless enough.
Wait, why does it get weirder when she eats the stir-fried yam?!
The milky white slices, so pale they could compete with the color of her skin, were lifted to her lips. So far, perfectly normal behavior for a pretty girl at dinner.
But the next moment made Haruaki swallow hard.
He’d only taken a sip of plain rice, yet what he saw made it feel like a sin.
That soft pink tongue lightly traced along the yam’s surface, glistening with sauce, and when it parted, a thin, silvery strand followed, delicate as spun silk.
All she’d done was scrape off the mixture of sauce and yam starch with her tongue and teeth... yet the way it gleamed and slid between her lips, like she was savoring an ice pop, felt way too wrong.
Feeling an inexplicable sense of secondhand guilt, Haruaki quickly tore his gaze away and turned toward his youngest sister, Fuyuno, the one who was usually the most mischievous.
Why was her eating the most normal of them all?
She’d poured the mapo tofu over her rice, picked up a piece of carrot and yam to eat together, and even sipped her soup with small, careful spoonfuls,
That level of normalcy was too abnormal for her.
But just as Haruaki started to feel guilty for doubting her, Fuyuno dabbed her lips with a napkin, looked up with polite composure, and commented seriously,
"Hard to believe Harutaki could make something ."
"Although baka Aniki’s a bit of an idiot, if he just... if he just studies seriously, it’s not like cooking’s that hard. Fuyuno could totally learn too."
For some reason, Ayaka interjected hurriedly, sounding almost flustered.
Which only left Haruaki feeling deflated.
He’d thought tonight’s dinner might be enough to soften even Ayaka’s cold attitude toward him, but... guess not.
"No, no, impossible. There’s no way I could make yam(yamaimo) this... interesting."
Something about that phrasing made alarm bells go off in his head.
"Mm, or rather, only Haruaki could turn something sticky and mushy like yam into this kind of dish."
Her finger twirled a lock of cherry-pink hair as her golden eyes sparkled with pure mischief. That bright, innocent smile of hers couldn’t hide the wicked curl tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"I’ve never seen the real thing, but something slippery, thick, and white like that... totally looks like the stuff that comes out after Onii-chan’s, uh, solo sessions."
Nogami’s chopsticks slipped from her fingers again!
At least, thank heavens, they landed on the table instead of the floor, or her skirt, or anywhere worse.
"Haha... hahahaha... Hoshikawa, your sister is... quite the character, huh."
"I’ll, uh, go rinse your chopsticks."
Without looking back, Haruaki grabbed the chopsticks and bolted to the kitchen.
As always, the eldest sister Ayaka had to take responsibility for Fuyuno’s outrageous behavior.
"I’m terribly sorry, Nogami-senpai. My sister’s... a bit too used to being unruly at home. I should’ve kept her in check. Please don’t mind her."
With that, she looped an arm around Fuyuno’s neck from behind, cutting off her next remark completely, and dragged her off like a kidnapper hauling a hostage.
Not an easy family to manage, clearly.
Watching all this unfold, even Nogami couldn’t help but feel a little sympathy for Ayaka.
A perverted, shameless brother.
A degenerate little sister.
At least the middle one,
Nogami blinked, staring at Chiaki’s bowl, stacked high with yam slices like a small mountain.
"The toothbrush is new, never used. Cup’s disposable. Toothpaste, Ayaka said you can borrow hers. Same for face wash."
Haruaki placed the items neatly in front of Nogami, explaining them one by one.
"As for towels, if you don’t mind, Chiaki’s got a clean spare. You and Ayaka are about the same size, so... uh, you can borrow her pajamas for tonight too."
Nogami tucked the toothbrush into the paper cup, gathered the bottles of cleanser, serum, eye cream, and moisturizer in her arms, and nodded curtly before heading toward the now-vacant bathroom.
Facing her reflection in the large mirror, expression cold as ever, she took a deep breath and pressed down her trembling right hand.
Only now did the reality hit her: she was really spending the night at a boy’s house.
Running away wasn’t her style.
Besides, where else could she even go?
Her phone, wallet, everything was in her bag still hanging on her classroom desk. The apartment she’d rented alone to prove her independence, and avoid her parents’ constant oversight, was an entire district away in Chiyoda.
As for calling someone for help...
The mere thought made her cringe. Letting Harutaki see her weak and lost was humiliating enough. Asking her friends, Sae and Minako, for help after running away from them? Impossible.
No. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
She couldn’t bear the thought of them worrying about her, much less discovering what had happened, or what she had done.
Because Nogami knew exactly what she had done.
And what it all meant.
Her father always praised her sharp mind and gifted nature, but he never saw her as anything more than a child.
To earn his recognition, to be seen as an equal, not a daughter, she couldn’t possibly go running back over something .
She looked into the mirror, meeting her own steady, determined eyes, and whispered,
"You’re Nogami Izumi, after all..."