Episode 128: I Want to Eat Endo-san’s Cooking

Looking out the window, rain is falling in a steady drizzle. The rainy season makes my wavy hair worse, so I don’t really like it.

Two months have passed since starting university, and I think I’ve gotten quite used to student life. Ranka and I ended up joining the stargazing club and look at the stars a few times a month. It’s more enjoyable than I imagined, and I’ve been learning about space and constellations. It’s become one of the pleasures of university life.

“Hoshizora, you’ve always spent a lot of time gazing out windows, even back in high school.”

I thought it was impressive she’d noticed that. For Ranka — who we weren’t that close with — to think that, I must have been spacing out quite a lot even back then.

“It calms me down, I guess.”

I like having time to just drift. Not thinking about anything, forgetting unpleasant things. There’s nothing unpleasant right now — but there’s one thing I’m not quite satisfied with.

It’s about Endo-san.

Lately, Endo-san has started a part-time job to cover tuition and living expenses. She works at a set-meal restaurant, mainly from the afternoon until around eight in the evening. Three days a week, on top of that. And she goes to basketball club once a week — so her time at home has decreased considerably.

On the evenings Endo-san isn’t there, I end up making dinner myself or picking something up.

“She’s the one who said we’d eat together…”

My irritation had apparently been slipping out, because Ranka looked at me with concern.

“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh, by the way — you should come stay over at my place sometime.”
“Why?”
“It’s a university student dream, isn’t it — having a friend stay over. Or I could come to yours.”
“That’s a little…”

I still haven’t told Ranka that I live with Endo-san. I haven’t even told her we’re going out. I know I need to say something eventually, but opportunities for that kind of conversation with Ranka don’t come up very often.

“Well, think about it.”
“Yeah, alright.”
“Oh — did you sort out a part-time job, Hoshizora?”
“Yeah. I decided to work as a cram school tutor, once or twice a week. At first it’ll just be administrative work, but apparently I’ll be able to teach groups eventually — it seems like it’ll be great experience. You were looking for work too, Ranka — did you find anything?”

“Actually — it turned out to be the same workplace as Hina-san.”

“Oh…”

My heart nearly fell out at those words. The world really is small, I thought.

I didn’t want to hear about Endo-san’s part-time job right now. Of course Endo-san was working hard to sustain our current life — but I wasn’t happy about Endo-san leaving me behind like this.

“Is Hina-san at this university? Or somewhere nearby?”
“I’m not sure…”

There was no need to be evasive, but I gave a vague answer anyway and changed the subject. After that I sat through lectures in a bit of a daze and parted ways with Ranka as usual.

Having learned something I hadn’t really wanted to know, I put up my umbrella and trudged home. Every step felt heavy. No — I think I was deliberately making them heavy. I didn’t want to get home quickly today.

Today too, Endo-san isn’t home.

“Haah…”

I stopped by the supermarket on the way home and bought ingredients for dinner. Back at the apartment I chopped vegetables in silence, put them in the pot, and let them simmer. I’d learned to make consommé soup from Endo-san before, so I tried making it today.

If I did it this way, even if she came home late, Endo-san would be able to eat it, I thought.

Apparently at Endo-san’s workplace, when it’s not busy they feed the staff, but on busy days she doesn’t have time to eat. I didn’t know which it would be today — but soup was convenient because she could heat it up and eat it right away when she got home, or if she didn’t want it, use it for breakfast the next morning.

After finishing cooking I did the laundry, had a bath, and sat blankly in front of the television waiting for Endo-san to come home.

Click.

The sound of the front door opening. Just that was enough to ease something of the unsettled feeling in my chest, and the air around my heart seemed to flow a little better.

“I’m home. Today was busy.”
“Oh.”

I should have said welcome back — but today I had no room for that.

“Something smells good. Did you make something, Takizawa?”
“Yeah. Eat it if you want.”

I said just that and turned to head to my room. But Endo-san caught my arm.

“Have you eaten, Takizawa?”
“No.”
“I haven’t either — let’s eat together?”
“Why. I don’t want to.”
“Come on.”

I said I don’t want to and Endo-san sat me down in a chair anyway. She served up the soup neatly, and poured hot milk into the white polar bear mug I’d given her. In front of me sat the soup I had made and the milk Endo-san had warmed.

“Let’s eat.”

Endo-san, looking somewhat tired, began eating the soup. I brought the hot milk to my mouth. The milk seeped warmly into my body, which had been cold until just a moment ago.

“Takizawa, it’s delicious. I’m genuinely moved by how well you can cook now.”
“Don’t say things that make you sound like my mother.”
“Fair enough.”

Endo-san was tired enough that she couldn’t even manage her usual smile. If it tires her out this much, she shouldn’t work at all…

I brought a spoonful of my own soup to my mouth, carrying feelings I couldn’t quite process.

It doesn’t taste good at all.

I made it exactly the way Endo-san taught me — so why does her consommé soup taste better and warm my heart in a way mine doesn’t? The hot milk that Endo-san had just reheated tasted better too.

I want to eat Endo-san’s cooking——.

“Actually I don’t have an appetite, I’m going to sleep.”
“What’s wrong? A cold?”

Endo-san reached up and put her hand to my forehead, so I brushed it away. My reaction seemed to strike her as strange, and she wore a stern expression.

“What’s wrong, Takizawa?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s clearly not nothing. Did something happen? I’ll listen if you want to talk.”

It’s your fault… I thought — and ignored her anyway, retreating to my room and burrowing under the duvet.

Endo-san isn’t doing anything wrong…

Endo-san is doing something wrong…

I’m used to being alone.

I was always alone.

In high school I was alone more often than not.

Because of Endo-san, I’ve gone back to being someone who dislikes being alone. I’d finally gotten used to solitude — and because of Endo-san, I’ve become weak.

A churning, unsettled feeling gripped my stomach, and even wrapped in my duvet, I couldn’t sleep for a while.