Episode Eight
“Welcome.”
A calm alto voice.
It was Master Aki who greeted me.
I glanced around the shop quickly, but once again, there were no other customers besides me. Is this place alright? Business-wise, I mean.
Or rather, there wasn’t even a trace of Ibara, let alone any customers…….
Half of me thought, ‘Well, I suppose that’s to be expected.’ The other half… what was it?
Could it be I’m feeling a little disappointed?
No, no, surely not.
I’m only here to pay and apologise. Not to meet that schoolgirl. So there’s no reason to feel down.
I approached Aki-san and spoke over the counter.
“Um, yesterday… well, today, actually. I’m terribly sorry. Not only did I sleep here, but I ended up using ingredients too.”
“Don’t worry about it. If anything, I should be thanking you for giving her a proper breakfast.”
“No, really.”
It wasn’t anything special I made.
“So, about yesterday’s coffee and sandwich, plus this morning’s ingredients. Let me pay you. How much is it?”
“It’s fine. You were dragged here by Ibara anyway, weren’t you?”
“No, but I did take them. And, well… it was delicious.”
“Oh, thanks.”
Her lips curved into a faint smile.
I felt flustered by the subtle allure of her pale lip colour.
She really is beautiful, this woman.
“Alright then. But no charge for breakfast. It wasn’t on the shop’s account, you see.”
Aki-san swiftly jotted down the coffee and hot sandwich charges on the receipt, glancing briefly at my face.
“And?”
“And, you ask?”
“What shall I get you today?”
Aki-san flashed a perfect sales smile.
I choked on my words.
What to do. I’m not thick-skinned enough to just say “I’ll settle up today” and head home.
Besides… this is the honest truth.
(I need a break…!)
Before returning to my empty house, I wanted to catch my breath.
Drink a delicious coffee, sink into a comfortable chair, and unwind the tension and stress that had knotted my mind and body.
I’d worked hard, so surely I deserved a little indulgence and rest.
I placed my handbag on the counter.
“Right then, one decaf coffee, hot. And then, a pa—”
I started to say the pasta of the day, but yesterday’s scene flashed back.
“A—a parfait, please.”
†
The seasonal parfait thudded onto the counter. Price: ¥1,380.
“I—I went and ordered it…”
Ehehe, a parfait! Yay! Yay!
The sheer volume of whipped cream had the little girl inside me doing a little dance.
It’s now 9 PM. A parfait instead of dinner.
What else could you call this but sin?
“…W-well, it’s still only Tuesday (?)!”
Concocting a completely nonsensical excuse even to myself, I reached for the long-handled spoon—and stopped.
First, I had to take a photo.
I raised my smartphone, framing the entire parfait in the lens.
“Hang on, it won’t fit. Better step back a bit, I suppose.”
“What do you usually use for SNS, sis?”
“Hmm, just the usual stuff like Isosta and Zex…”
Huh?
The very next moment.
Silently, a sleepy-eyed beauty slipped into the frame.
“Whoa, Ibara⁉︎”
“Yaaay. Good evening, miss.”
Startled, my fingers moved. Click. The smartphone in my hand made the shutter sound.
Ibara, in her uniform, waved a hand hidden in her fluttering, cute sleeves.
“Wh-why are you here⁉︎”
“I told you. I’m always here at night.”
“You weren’t here just now.”
“That was, well…”
Pointing to a corner of the shop. Blankets are piled on the sofa seats.
Wrapped up in those, you didn’t notice?
A cat, then.
“I thought maybe if I did it like yesterday, I could sleep alone. But it just wasn’t possible.”
“…Then why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“Well, you know, watching you all excited waiting for your parfait was kind of amusing.”
“I-I wasn’t excited!”
“You were.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were. Or rather, you did want that parfait after all, didn’t you?”
Mmmph.
“Well… today I just happened to be in that sort of mood.”
“Huh.”
Ibara sits down beside me, wearing a mischievous grin that says ‘Huh-huh, well now’.
What’s with that face? It’s a bit annoying.
I rest my head on my arm, which is propped up on the counter, and let my face slump down.
“So you did come.”
“It wasn’t for your sake, Ibara.”
“Tsundere, eh?”
“I just came to pay for yesterday.”
“You’re such a softie, sis.”
It felt like she’d roughly stroked the soft spot in my heart.
“…Fine. Whatever.”
“I didn’t say it was bad. Anyway…”
She lifted his face and leaned in close.
“Did you take a photo of my face just now?”
My face?
Come to think of it, I must have pressed the shutter button by accident.
I checked my camera roll. The last photo taken showed Ibara’s face clearly, though slightly out of focus.
“Shall I delete it?”
“No, it’s fine. But you mustn’t post it on SNS or anything.”
“I won’t…”
What does she take me for?
I took another photo, this time just of the parfait. I picked up the spoon.
Where to start? The persimmon, perhaps? Or the large Kyoho grapes? The cream?
I plunged the spoon into the embodiment of sweetness.
Blimey, delicious. The persimmon is incredibly sweet.
The chestnut… tasty…….
…………
“…Um, Ibara?”
“What is it, big sis?”
“It’s a bit awkward to eat when you’re staring at me like that.”
“Big sis, you’ve got fresh cream on your mouth.”
“Eh? No way!”
“Yes way.”
Hehe, Ibara chuckled. What is this kid?
“Aki-chan, I want some parfait too.”
“Sorry, we ran out of ingredients after that one.”
“Ehh?”
She pouted. Then suddenly, she turned that pout towards me.
“Ehh?”
And, like a baby bird waiting for food, she opened her mouth.
“…Wh-what?”
“Give me a bite.”
“But you ate some yesterday, didn’t you?”
“Aki-chan’s parfait… I could eat this every day and never get tired of it. What a bother, what a bother.”
She said it as if she wasn’t bothered at all.
“You’ll get fat.”
“I’m young, so it’s fine.”
She’s far too confident in her youth. I want to tell her not to be so disrespectful of calories. As someone who’s been around longer.
“…Just one bite, then.”
“Yay! I want the bit with the grapes.”
“Don’t be so picky.”
But I scoop up the grape section anyway, and end up adding a piece of chocolate too.
I simply can’t help being soft on this child. Is it because she’s so pretty?
Cuteness is a kind of violence. It makes you want to lend a hand.
Carefully guiding the spoon to avoid spilling, the soft pink lips reflected the light from the indirect lighting.
“Mm.”
The way she flicked her hair back and took the tip in her mouth was strangely alluring.
For a high schooler. For someone still a child.
“Mmm, yummy.”
“…That’s good, then.”
“Thanks, big sis.”
Turns out she wasn’t troubled at all.
If anything, I was the one feeling troubled.
Because she’s cute.
She’s ridiculously pretty, keeps an uncomfortably close distance, knows how to be clingy, and smells somehow nice.
She’s a strange girl, but because she’s cute, it’s troublesome.
A kid who asks a passer-by like me to sleep beside her.
I really don’t want to get involved in any more trouble.
But I find myself thinking about this girl.
I thrust my spoon into the parfait glass a little too roughly.
The tip of the whipped cream was melting in the warm room temperature.