CH 3

3rd Meal

A Man Who Cooks For Himself And A High School Girl 3

Even though I cook for myself, I am not good at it. Rather, I'm particularly at it. I began cooking for myself in the fall of my freshman year of college, and I've only been cooking for about six months. There was no way I could learn to cook in such a short period of time.

Therefore, the food I served to the high school girl was simple. Freshly cooked rice, two bacon and eggs, and a bowl of instant miso soup made with hot water. The rest was vegetable juice, which I drink on a regular basis as a source of vitamins.

To put it bluntly, this was not a meal I would serve to a guest. Even so, it was still better to serve something simple but familiar than to forcefully overstretch myself and serve a tasteless dish. It was a difficult decision.

Even though I had asked her if she wanted to eat, I felt ashamed of the dinner I had served her. She could have gone home without touching it, but that was not the case.

“Hmmm~! It’s delicious!” 

On the other side of a small table that is only about one meter square, The high school girl was eating her rice with a delighted smile on her face, and I was watching her with my mouth open. I nearly dropped the bowl in my hand before reminding myself that I was also eating.

(...There’s nothing unusual in it, right…?)

I thought so as I put the bacon and half-boiled egg, which broke while I was transferring it on the plate, into my mouth.  It tasted exactly the same as usual. It's not as if a miracle of God happened and the best dish was made. As for the miso soup, it's instant.

The girl, however, carries her chopsticks with a twinkle in her eye as if she is eating a feast. I don't sense that she is being considerate to me or anything like that.

I swallowed the food in my mouth and then asked her.

“Is really that good…?”

“Yes! It’s very good!”

She answered immediately. She didn't seem to have thought about it at all. Apparently, she really thinks my poor food tastes good. Even though, I bet the convenience store bento would be better.

As I was thinking that, the girl who had just finished her miso soup let out a satisfied sigh and smiled.

“I haven't had such a warm meal in a long time!”

“Eh? You’re exaggerating…isn't a bento from the convenience store similar if you just heat it up?”

“Hmm~ that’s right, but…it gets a little cold by the time you bring it home from there…”

“....Ha?”

No way, I thought, and I continued to ask.

“Don’t tell me…Not only you don’t have a rice cooker in your apartment, but a microwave as well?”

“Yes, I don’t.”

“Seriously!?”

I shouted out in surprise. Wait no…there are people in college who don't have a rice cooker at home, but there aren't many who don't even have a microwave….

“When you decided to live on your own, didn't you ask your parents to buy one for you?”

“No, I had one at first, but it broke…and I haven't bought a new one since then.”

“Why?”

I was about to say, “Just buy a new one.” But I was interrupted by her subsequent words.

“…I don't want to cause too much trouble for my parents, even though I'm forced to live alone…”

“.........”

I understand what she feels a little bit.

Living alone costs a lot of money. If you are a single working adult, the burden on your parents is probably huge, especially if you are a student living off of their money. This girl understands that, and that's why she hasn't even bought a new microwave oven.

Even though her attitude is childish, she is trying to reduce the burden on her parents in her own way. I think that a high school student is still a child and they should be bothering their parents.…but she is much more independent than a brash middle or high school student whose body and attitude have only grown bigger.

“Do you want another serving?”

“Eh? Is it all right!?”

“Yeah.”

I think such children, including myself, are rare nowadays.

So, at least for today, I wanted to feed her a warm meal as much as I could.

“...Feel free to eat as much as you want.”

“Uwaah! Thank you very much!”

When I saw the smile of a high school girl who innocently thanked me, I felt—for the first time today—glad that I was cooking for myself.