Episode One Hundred and Twenty-Four

In the end, we made and ate curry together for lunch.
Ibara kept insisting, “I’ll make it, I say!”

“Oh, come on, you did most of it anyway, Shigure-san.”

Well, what can I say?
If I’d left it to Ibara, a third of the potatoes would have ended up as ‘peel’.

　Today we made keema curry.
The ingredients were plenty of minced meat, fried slowly until crispy and browned, along with onions and potatoes. Then two large tomatoes.
One was simmered thoroughly to draw out its sweetness, while the other was added at the end. Doing this brings out the tangy flavour nicely. The roux was, of course, spicy. It is summer, after all.
　Even as she clattered away eating her curry, Ibara kept giving off this air of wanting to say something.

“Is something wrong?”

“…Shigure-san. You know. You really don’t want to be dependent on me, do you?”

Ah, still dragging that topic out.

“Hmm. It’s not about Ibara or anything. It’s just… I’m not very good at relying on people. Never have been.”

　I’m aware I’m more the type to indulge others than be indulged myself.
The cause? Well, it’s probably Shizuku.
Looking after that little girl who’d trail after me saying “Big sis, big sis” naturally shaped me into this sort of person.
That nurturing disposition, cultivated since childhood, solidified when I met Runa, and here I am now.
That’s how it is.

“I don’t like it, you know.”

Her tawny eyes fixed on me.
Ibara’s gaze was always so direct, so straightforward, sometimes it felt overwhelming.

“What exactly don’t you like?”

“That you push yourself too hard behind my back, Shigure-san, and end up exhausted and collapsing.”

“I’ll be fine. If I’m truly exhausted, I’ll rest properly.”

I laugh it off lightly.
Yet Ibara stares at me like a detective suspecting a criminal.
Even though I really am alright.

“…I’ll give you a bath and a massage, let you rest your head on my lap while I clean your ears, shampoo your hair, then give you a head spa.”

“What sort of ritual is that?”

“Which would you prefer? My recommendation is the lap rest followed by ear cleaning.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Why?”

That was a slightly sulky “Why?”.
Thinking her pouty face was rather cute, I continued.

“Isn’t it a bit scary having someone else clean your ears? I’ve done it for others, though.”

“Eh? Who?”

“Shizuku, for example. And Runa, too.”

“…………Oh.”

Oh no. I’d said too much. Should’ve stopped at “like Shizuku.”
Mentioning Runa’s name at times like this always puts Ibara in a foul mood.
Just like now. Her lower lip was pressed stiffly.
Trying to gloss over it, I pressed on.

“Shall I do it for you? Your ear cleaning.”

“I told you, it’s the other way round.”

She said indignantly.

“Today, I’m the one spoiling Shigure-san. I’ll be gentle until you’re all soft and mushy.”

“It’s not like you’re overcooking potatoes or something.”

She scooped up a potato with her spoon and ate it.
The potatoes, cut into dice and cooked just right, were fluffy and delicious.

“Besides, Ibara, you’ve never cleaned anyone’s ears, have you?”

“I have. I did it for Hiname once. She seemed to like it quite a lot.”

“Oh… Hmm…”

Is that so.
I imagine Hiname-chan resting her head on Ibara’s lap while she cleans her ears.
How lovely that they get on so well.
Ibara peered at my face.

“…Did you get jealous?”

“Eh?”

“Jealous. Shigure-san, you had that look on your face.”

“I didn’t.”

“You absolutely did.”

I pressed my palm against my cheek. Had I really looked that displeased?

“If anyone’s jealous, it’s you, Ibara.”

“Ah, so that’s what you’re saying.”

“Well, you did look displeased.”

“Of course I did. Because I am displeased.”

She admitted it plainly.
Ibara doesn’t hide her feelings. Whether positive or negative.
　That aspect of her seemed dazzling to me, someone who overthinks things constantly.
It was both admirable and enviable, and probably something I respected about her.

“But, yeah. I get it. After I brush my teeth, I’ll do it for you too, Shigure-san.”

“I said it’s fine.”

“I don’t want you to be so polite, Shigure-san.”

She pops the spoon into her mouth.
　There was no refusing this now.
I just hoped my ears weren’t too dirty.

†

We brushed our teeth side by side, then finished washing up.

“Here you go.”

Ibara, sitting on the bed, patted her thigh.
Today, Ibara wore thin shorts.
　Her thighs, boldly exposed almost to the root, were dazzlingly white, making me avert my eyes involuntarily.
Strange. It shouldn’t be thighs, of all things, at this stage.
I’ve seen and touched far more delicate places, places one shouldn’t casually show to others.
Yet, my heart was racing.

“Shigure-san, hurry up!”

　Ibara, seemingly impatient with my fidgeting, gave her thigh a light pat.

“Um, I mean, this sort of thing—”

“Remember when you got overheated in the bath and I gave you a lap pillow?”

“Yes, but—”

That did happen. It did.
Resigned, I hesitantly sat down on the bed.
Slowly, carefully, I tilted my head to the side.
　Her smooth skin touched my ear and cheek.
Soft yet with just the right elasticity, perfectly positioned at the ideal height.

“How is it?”

“…Can I be honest?”

“Yes.”

“It’s incredibly embarrassing.”

I felt like fire was shooting out of my face.
I covered my face with both hands.

“Aaaahhh…”

“You do it to me sometimes, don’t you?”

“Doing it is fine… but I’d never imagined being done to…”

Why did this feel even more shameful than sleeping together or sharing a bath?
Looking up, I saw Ibara’s face. It felt like being treated like a child, making me blush hopelessly.
Ibara’s fingers combed through my hair.

“Your hair is beautiful, Shigure-san.”

“…I don’t know.”

Her affectionate touch felt unfamiliar. It was ticklish, made me fidgety, and utterly embarrassing.
What on earth is this?

“I like the shape of your ears too.”

“Do people even have likes or dislikes about ears?”

“Well, I suppose they do. Like how someone might like hands, right?”

I understood that, but…
　Hearing that, I couldn’t help but notice the fingers of Ibara flitting across my vision.
Thin and smooth, surprisingly long, fingers with neatly trimmed nails – despite her uniform giving off a slightly gyaru vibe.
I think I definitely like Ibara’s hands.
Suddenly, the fingers tracing my earlobe stopped.

“You had pierced ears.”

“A long time ago. I hardly ever wear them now.”

I haven’t worn earrings for ages. That happens, I suppose.
The pad of her thumb rubs my earlobe, a soft, scratching motion.
Is she lost in thought? She just keeps kneading it, mindlessly.
It tickles.
But not enough to make me stop her.
Ibara looks up, startled, and picks up the ear pick.

“Mind if I do it?”

“…Go ahead.”

And so, the ear pick in Ibara’s hand entered my ear.