Episode 5: The Teacher’s Home ―August 2032―

While I was putting a toothbrush and underwear into my basket at the convenience store we stopped at on the way, the teacher guided me over to the bento section.

“Uehara-san, I’ll pay for it, so please buy a bento. There’s absolutely nothing to eat at my place.”

“Somehow, when you say it, Teacher, it doesn’t sound like modesty, it really does sound like there’s nothing at all.”

　I was the only one laughing, and several question marks seemed to hover above the teacher’s head. …Thinking it couldn’t be, I asked.

“…What’s in your fridge, Teacher?”

“Oolong tea and pickled plums.”

“Eh? That’s all?”

“Yes. But I do cook rice. I cook properly, you know?”

　My definition of ‘cooking properly’ started to waver. Why was this person looking so smug?

The conversation had made it abundantly clear the teacher didn’t cook, but what on earth did they eat every day? The teacher seemed rather indifferent to their own body… Could they possibly be completely lacking in nutrition?

I skipped the lunchboxes, quickly paid for just my toothbrush and underwear.

“Teacher, let’s go to the supermarket. ‘Emart’ stays open till midnight.”

“Why?”

“Don’t ask ‘Why?’! Just come on!”

I had the teacher, who seemed clueless, take me to a supermarket open late. After asking about her likes and dislikes, I put vegetables, meat, and fish into the basket.

The teacher finally seemed to grasp my intention and kept saying, “I’m terribly sorry,” over and over.

“Ah… would it be alright if I had a little drink tonight?”

As we passed the alcohol section, the teacher timidly asked, looking rather cute, like a child begging for sweets.

　　　　　　　　　　☆

Ten minutes by car from the supermarket. We arrived at the teacher’s house just as the date was about to change.

“Excuse me.”

“Please come in. There’s nothing much here, but do make yourself comfortable.”

　A one-bedroom flat on the third floor of a relatively new apartment block. Despite my sudden intrusion, the teacher’s place wasn’t messy at all.

I liked how the furniture was unified in a modern black and white colour scheme, but it felt more stark than stylish – perhaps because I knew the teacher’s personality.

“I’d like to put the groceries I bought in the fridge. Is it alright if I open it?”

“Of course. Feel free to use anything in the house, not just the fridge.”

　Opening the small fridge, I was genuinely surprised to find only bottled oolong tea and pickled plums inside. Not even ketchup or mayonnaise. How on earth does she manage?

Having just finished my part-time job, I immediately borrowed a shower. I was grateful to feel refreshed, but… even though I hadn’t the slightest intention of making demanding requests after barging in like this…!　When I borrowed the teacher’s clothes after my bath, I simply couldn’t resist teasing her.

“I don’t want to complain since you’re lending them to me, but… aren’t your loungewear clothes a bit… well, tacky? This plain T-shirt is ridiculously thin, isn’t it?”

“Isn’t thin more comfortable? It’s calming, you see.”

“I get that, but there’s a limit! You could make a bit more effort, you know~…”

“I don’t see why I should care about loungewear I’m not showing anyone. Why can’t comfort come first?”

The teacher genuinely seemed baffled, tilting her head repeatedly.

“It’s not that it’s wrong…”

I couldn’t think of a reason to convince her either, and I’d grown used to the clothes. Somehow, it just didn’t matter anymore.

“No, sorry. I’m not saying you should change into something else, and besides… well, it’s starting to feel right.”

“See? Once you get used to it, it becomes a habit.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly say it was that good…”

With a wry smile, I sat down next to the teacher and checked my phone, then frowned involuntarily. Several more messages had arrived from Wataru. I decided to ignore them, leaving them unread.

“Why don’t you buy yourself some cute pyjamas too, teacher?　It’ll lift your spirits, you know?”

“At my age, cute pyjamas feel a bit… awkward.”

“Age doesn’t matter when it comes to cute, does it? Hey, how about Sherapico? I reckon you couldn’t go wrong with that.”

As usual, a question mark appeared above her head. I searched on my phone and showed the teacher lots of colourful, fluffy loungewear. The teacher blinked repeatedly, reacting to each item as if encountering a foreign culture.

“See? Aren’t they cute?”

“…They look like fairy costumes.”

“Don’t make me laugh! That’s the first time I’ve heard such a fairy-tale-like comment.”

The moment I looked at the teacher, laughing, my breath caught.

I’d been so engrossed I hadn’t noticed, but as we leaned in to peer at the single smartphone, we’d somehow ended up shoulder-to-shoulder, at point-blank range.

　Her face… so close. Once I became aware of it, nerves made my mind go blank.

Why? She was just a plain, same-sex school teacher.

And yet, my heart was pounding like crazy for no apparent reason.

…I had to say something. If she realised I was this flustered just from being close, she’d think I was weird.

　As I drew breath to speak, a scent unlike the teacher’s usual one hit me, and my body froze.

This scent… I’m sure it’s—

By the time I realised, a thick, burning heat deep within me clogged my thought processes, blocking my choices and restricting my actions.

“…Why don’t you take a bath too, teacher?”

　I moved slightly away and said it as if nothing had happened. Saying something like that at this moment was like indirectly warning her, “You smell a bit.”

I might have hurt the teacher. Even so, I couldn’t help myself.

Even as I’m reflecting on it right now, I can’t even say the words to take it back. Perhaps I’m the exact opposite of the selfless, considerate person the teacher sees me as – selfish and self-centred.

“Very well, I shall. Uehara-san, please pass the time as you see fit. You may turn on the television, or help yourself to the contents of the refrigerator. Do make yourself quite at home.”

“Right, take your time, sensei. Off you go.”

Was she not bothered? Or was she pretending not to be?

After watching her rise and head towards the changing room, I exhaled deeply.

　The teacher smelled different today, that was probably the scent of Hisako-san’s perfume. Since they’d been together just now, it was only natural the scent would linger.

And yet, to my own surprise, I disliked it intensely. The teacher wasn’t my girlfriend or anything, yet I felt jealous again.

Jealousy, pettiness. I thought I understood it, but it really is complex.

　I want to be the student the teacher values most. I’d always thought my jealousy towards the teacher stemmed fundamentally from that desire.

But… feeling jealous of Hisako-san too? Does that mean I harbour a desire to transcend being just a student, to become the person most important to the teacher?

—That felt like something I shouldn’t think about too deeply… like a forbidden territory I shouldn’t tread upon.

“Oh, right! I’ll make dinner!”

I stood up and headed for the kitchen, forcing myself to shift my thoughts.

I’d decided to cook for the teacher, whose eating habits were nothing but worrying. I’d already planned a menu of things I could prepare in advance. I’d confirmed with the teacher that this house had a pot, chopping board, and knife.

　I took the meat and vegetables I’d bought earlier out of the fridge. They were small portions, but buying seasonings too was a good move on my part. I never would have guessed, but this house had absolutely no seasonings.

I started peeling the potatoes. Cooking really is more enjoyable for me when I’m making it for someone else rather than just myself.

But it’s strange how cooking, which is such a multitasking activity, brings so many memories flooding back.

　The night I first held a knife in fourth grade, the miso soup I made for Mum with a hangover, the failed mackerel simmered in miso that she didn’t touch, the hotpot I ate alone.

Even though this was the first time using the kitchen at the teacher’s house, memories from the past were swirling round and round in my head like the same film was being shown over and over.