On our way home, Fushimi asked me about her “boxed dinner,” since I hadn’t touched the subject myself.

“Oh, the food you brought me?”

“Y-yes. Did you eat it?”

“I did. It was good.”

Fushimi’s grin was like a ray of sunlight against the cloudy sky. “I see, I see. So you liked it. My childhood efforts are finally being rewarded. I’ve always been good at making boiled pumpkin.”

…Just that? What’s with the weirdly specific skill?

Come to think of it, I’d always liked sweet food. Candies and stuff, of course, but also regular entrées on the sweeter side.

“Now I can strike one off the list.”

“List? What’s that?”

Her smile was gone, her eyes now as cloudy as the sky. “Here we go again…the Forgot-All-My-Promises-with-My-Childhood-Friend Syndrome. And yet you remember the weird parts.”

…Syndrome?

“Did we promise you’d feed me a metric ton of boiled pumpkin?”

She looked away, fully annoyed now.

“In that case, I want to tell you something, too. Please add some sides and rice. You can’t call that a boxed dinner, lunch, or any kind of meal. That’s just leftovers. It’s like you made too much and then handed it out to your neighbor.”

After that comment, her cheeks reminded me of a puffer fish.

“You’re awfully proud of yourself right now, aren’t you? Stop it.”

That strangely hurt. Low blow.

“That wasn’t my intention” was all I could manage to reply back.

I won’t be able to say anything again if she starts countering like this!

Fushimi stayed quiet, until she looked at her toes and muttered, “I mean… I can’t make anything else… I just wanted you to say it was good…”

Crap. I lose this round.

She didn’t look as if she was saying it just to win the argument. She really felt that way.

If she was actually trying to manipulate me, she’d act the exact same way she did with our classmates. She cared about me—and I couldn’t say I minded.

After all, she did say it was on her list. That meant we’d actually promised each other this, and I’d probably said I wanted to eat as much boiled pumpkin as I could, or something stupid like that.

“Thank you for making my favorite dish.”

“Yes…”

“If you ever want to do it again, it’s okay if you try making something else.”

“I’ll just tell you now, I’m not as good as Mana.”

“It’s fine. No one is ever good at the start. And I’ll eat it all, so don’t worry.”

Her face melted into a smile. “Okay, then… I’ll do my best.”

Now I wouldn’t have to go through the shock of pseudo leftovers if there ever was a next time.

We continued to the Fushimi home so I could see her off, when she suddenly remembered, “So where’s the box?”

Ah. I left it in my room.

“Sorry. I’ll clean it and give it back tomorrow.”

“No, don’t worry—I’ll take care of the cleaning.”

“No, I…”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.”

I felt bad about making her clean it on top of having her make me dinner, but she was insisting so stubbornly that I had to give in.

“I-in exchange…mind if I go to your house again?”

D-don’t say that with a blush on your face! Now I’m blushing, too…

We won’t do anything. Nothing. Nothing will happen. I’m not the kind of guy who’d take advantage of our friendship. Not in a million years.

Okay. Everything’s good for me now. Act natural. Nothing happened.

“S-sure…if you wanna.”

“Are you nervous?”

“N-not at all.”

“Really?” She tilted her head.

When I let her inside, my sister’s loafers were there at the entrance. She was already home, and it seemed she had heard us arrive, because the pattering sound of her slippers was approaching.

“Bubby, were you fine with that rain out…there…?”

“Hello, Mana. I’m hanging out here for a bit today.”

“O-okay. Welcome…” Mana was bewildered. She blinked again and again, staring at me, then at Fushimi, then back at me. “Bubby… What are you planning on doing…bringing her home?”

“Nothing special. What are you asking? She said she wanted to come.”

Mana turned to look at her, asking with her eyes whether that was true or not.

“Y-yeah. I did.”

“Um… Okay, gimme a second. So she only acts pure, but underneath it all, she’s after all the boys. God…my mental image of her is crumbling to pieces…”

“N-no, I’m not! That is not what’s going on here!” Fushimi objected, her face red.

“Bubby’s a virgin, Hina, so watch out. They’re always on the lookout for a chance.”

“Stop right there, Sister. I’m not that thirsty.”

Also, how the hell do you know I’m a virgin?

“You should thank me for being here. My presence will work as a deterrent.”

“I’m telling you, I’m not doing anything.”

I thought I could see steam, which I immediately found out was coming off Fushimi’s red head while she was staring at the floor.

“…I-I j-j-j-just remembered I have s-something to do. See you!” Fushimi’s voice cracked as she ran away.

“This is your fault for teasing her.”

“I’m not teasing anybody. I’m just stating the facts. Besides…” Mana looked away, her face quite red herself. “I—I don’t want to…be hearing all the thumping and creaking from the second floor.”

“Ah yes, pretending to be pro wrestlers. Nothing else.”

“I don’t mind if you do it when I’m not here. But um…d-do you have…you know what?”

No, I don’t know what.

Given that I showed no reaction, Mana said, “I mean this…” Embarrassed, she made a circle with her fingers.

“…Money? …No, I don’t have much, really.”

Determination flared up in Mana’s eyes. I could almost see her thoughts: I have to pick up the slack for my bubby!

“Leave it to me. It’ll be a bit embarrassing…but I’ll go get them at the drugstore.”

Get what?