Supporter Bonus: “Fujishiro’s Rice Balls”
Author’s note: Good evening! Thank you as always for your support. I’ve actually been considering a career change lately, so between studying for that and work, my days have been quite busy. I’m hoping to settle down soon, but it looks like I’ll need to keep working like a plow horse for about another year. I’ll do my best to bring good news eventually!
Today I’ve written a bonus chapter for My Neighbour, Kataba-san, the first supporter-exclusive piece for this particular work. I never found a natural place to explain the title, so let me touch on it briefly here: kataba (single wing) carries various meanings, but among them is the sense of being “incomplete,” or “missing something.” I don’t believe any human being is truly perfect, and I wanted to write about the struggles of girls who keep reaching for perfection anyway. Personally, I find relationships where two incomplete people fill in what the other is missing genuinely lovely. As for what “otonari no” (the girl next door) is really carrying as a phrase, that becomes clear five episodes from now. (The road to the title payoff has ended up far longer than I intended, sorry for stretching it out so much. I meant to keep things tidier, but I ended up writing all the story I wanted to tell.) I hope you’ll look forward to it regardless. Temperatures are settling as we head into autumn, but it’s the kind of season that swings hot and cold, so please take care of yourselves. See you next time!
[Fujishiro’s POV, before episode 58]
I took several deep breaths in front of the enormous mansion.
I’ve decided, whenever I come here, to empty my mind.
Think of yourself as a robot.
I took one more breath and rang the intercom. The moment the sound stopped, the door opened.
“Yo, Nanoha.”
“Hello.”
“Isn’t that a little formal?”
“Not particularly. Thanks for today.”
“Uh, sure…? My mum and dad are both out today, so you can relax.”
Yudzuki looked puzzled, but led me inside anyway.
The moment I reached the living room, I tied a triangular kerchief over my hair, put on an apron, and washed my hands.
I shot a sharp glare at Yudzuki, who was watching the whole process with obvious amusement, and she flinched.
“Sorry, sorry.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“No, your face is way too tense, Nanoha.”
“This is just my normal face.”
“Sure, sure, whatever you say. Well, let’s get started. What do you want to learn today?”
“Today, I…”
I got that far and bit down hard on my lower lip.
This whole training arrangement with Yudzuki started because I wanted to be able to serve Morishita something delicious, but every time, I feel like she’s looking at me with an expression that says can’t even manage that? and it wounds my pride badly. Being made to feel like I’m losing to Yudzuki specifically stings more than almost anything.
I’d come today already braced for that, and told myself I had to endure it, and yet I was still at war with my own ugly pride.
“Today?”
“I want you to… teach me how to make rice balls…”
“Rice… balls…?”
I looked down at the floor, fleeing from the disbelief in her voice.
I was disgusted with myself too, unable to make something this simple on my own. But I absolutely needed to make the best rice ball I possibly could, to make up for the terrible impression left by that awful salted rice ball I’d once fed Morishita.
When I slowly lifted my face, Yudzuki looked surprised at first, but almost immediately her expression turned serious, and she nodded firmly before heading to the kitchen.
I wouldn’t say Yudzuki gave me any dramatic revelations.
Nothing she taught me went beyond what I could have found online myself. The right amount of salt, the right amount of filling, how to shape the rice, all thoroughly ordinary things.
But not a single rice ball Yudzuki and I made together came out badly.
For some reason, that gave me a real, strong push forward.
“I made a proper one…”
“Nanoha, you could’ve made rice balls fine without asking me, couldn’t you?”
“There were reasons.”
“Reasons?”
“Yeah.”
“I-I see.”
I bowed to Yudzuki, who looked thoroughly bewildered.
“Thank you for teaching me.”
“No, I didn’t really do anything special…”
“It helped a lot.”
“Well, if you say so.”
“I’ll head home now.”
“Eh? Won’t you eat with me here first?”
“I still have more practising to do once I get back.”
My words left Yudzuki confused all over again.
I felt like I’d been confusing her all day with things that made no sense to her, but I still had a great deal left to prepare, so I thanked her once more and left her house.
◆
Morishita’s cheeks had gone red as she stuffed the rice ball I’d made into her mouth.
No one was going to steal it from her, and yet she ate it in a hurry, chewing away like a squirrel.
Watching her like that, no matter how thoroughly my pride had been wrecked getting here, I found myself thinking it had been worth it.
I found myself thinking I wanted to try harder again.
If I’m honest, what I really wanted was for Morishita to tell me I’d done well, and hold me.
There’s no way Morishita would ever actually do something like that.
And yet, I found myself expecting it from her anyway.
I watched her earnestly, and her lips began to move.
“They’re good…”
Just one line.
And yet those words from Morishita were more than enough to fill me with happiness.
I tensed my face so the corners of my mouth wouldn’t lift too far.
Even so, I think my happiness must have shown through anyway.
“I’m glad.”
What should I feed Morishita next.
I want her to eat so much more of what I make.
That was the moment a great deal of hope took root in my chest.
The sea breeze passing between us felt wonderfully refreshing.