A Story About a Blonde Gal Angel Who Excessively Praises My Cooking. After Asking Me to Teach Her How to Cook, Feelings of Mutual Love Began to Grow

Chapter 35: Thank You

That night, after Kurose-san had nearly killed me.

Even though I was exhausted and barely alive, it’s my principle as a stay-at-home husband to still do the household chores.

Or rather, I have to, or it will affect our household budget.

“…So tired…”

I soaked in the bath for the first time in a while.

The warmth seeped into my body and soul.

Normally, I don’t have the habit of soaking in the bath, but today I felt like taking my time.

“…Still, what’s going on…”

Kurose-san said she had a taste disorder.

I couldn’t hear the full story because she started crying.

I don’t know if she always had it or if it was something she developed later.

If she lost her sense of taste due to some reason, illness, or incident, I can understand why she became obsessed with the feeling of “this looks delicious” like she did today.

If she thought she could no longer enjoy food, but then my bento looked delicious to her, I can see why she would cling to that hope.

Food is one of the three basic desires.

Losing it must be painful, even in just the imaginable ways.

“But losing your sense of taste and then feeling like my bento looks delicious is a bit strange, isn’t it?”

I could understand if she tasted it and felt something, but just seeing it and thinking it looks delicious seems like she might have some visual impairment too.

In the month or so of my high school life, I never suspected Kurose-san of having any color vision issues.

It’s a strange story.

It doesn’t make sense that she would try to find out while holding a knife.

“Well, I guess I’ll figure it out eventually…”

I looked up at the ceiling of the bathroom and gave up on thinking about it.

There’s no point in pondering over it.

Whether it’s cooking with Amatsuka-san or this incident, it all happened because I ate my bento in the classroom.

…Normally, who would imagine that eating a homemade bento in the classroom would lead to this?

“…I have to go to Kurose-san’s place every Saturday, huh…”

It’s like I’m her stay-at-home husband instead of her wife now…

Just thinking about it is exhausting.

Cooking in a situation where I might get stabbed at any moment.

What if she asks me to cook naked with just an apron while holding a knife? No, that’s too much, right?

Who would even want that?

“Onii-chan, there’s a call from Miu-san.”

“…I see.”

I was too exhausted to even muster the energy to tell her to knock before entering.

I just took the phone and checked the call history.

There was a missed call from Amatsuka-san about five minutes ago.

For now, I called her back.

“Hello? Motobu-kun?”

“Yes. What’s going on?”

“Oh, sorry. It seems you were in the bath. Should I hang up?”

“It’s fine. So, what’s up?”

Maybe because I was nearly killed a few hours ago, Amatsuka-san’s voice sounded like an angel’s.

I see, I must be dying after all.

I think I can go peacefully…

“My mom says she wants to thank you since you’re always teaching me how to cook.”

“No, it’s really okay. I’m learning a lot too.”

It felt awkward no matter how I thought about it.

What am I supposed to talk about with her mom?

Maybe something like, “Cleaning mold from the bathtub is tough, isn’t it?” “Oh, absolutely,” some typical housewife/husband talk?

But, I heard that Amatsuka-san’s mom is busy with work, so usually, Amatsuka-san does the housework. And I don’t really get the chance to talk to someone in the role of “mother,” so I have no idea what to say.

Well, I guess even the staff at the supermarket are someone’s mom…

“Come on, Motobu-kun. I want to have a meal with you too…”

“A meal?”

“Yes! There’s a new place near the station, and I was thinking of going there.”

“Oh, that place… I’m curious about it too.”

“Right?! Okay! Let’s go, Motobu-kun! I’ll tell my mom!”

“Ah! Wait, hold on… she hung up.”

Just like that, a meal plan was decided…

In middle school, I never had my schedule fill up like this.

So many things have changed.

“…Well, it can’t be helped…”

Even as I muttered this, I found myself looking forward to having a meal with Amatsuka-san.

—

Chapter 36: My Stomach Hurts

The day after Kurose-san nearly killed me, I went to school.

“Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san!” “Motobu-san♪” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.” “Motobu-san.”

…A background character and the class beauty.

Kurose-san was constantly following me around.

She clung to me during every class transition and followed me even when I stood up to go to the bathroom.

She even came with me to the gym class and stayed until I reached the changing room.

This isn’t Dragon Quest…

Up until the day before, none of this had been happening, so the whole class was staring at me.

They whispered things like, “Did he give her a love potion or something?” Does such a thing even exist?

Isn’t that something from a fantasy world?

And even if love potions did exist, I’d rather spend my money on groceries since I’m a stay-at-home husband.

…Sigh. My stomach hurts.

And this is still only the end of the morning classes, which is tragic.

Even Amatsuka-san gave me a strange look, and Momohara was too scared to come near me.

“Motobu-san, let’s have lunch together.”

“…Okay.”

Honestly, I didn’t feel like I could eat in the classroom.

So, I decided to take my bento and find another place to eat.

I walked around, looking for a suitable spot to sit and eat.

“By the way, aren’t you joining the cooking club, Motobu-san?”

Kurose-san asked as she looked at the recruitment notice for the cooking club posted on the bulletin board in the hallway.

“…I don’t think I will. I’m just a stay-at-home husband after all.”

I can’t afford to miss the supermarket’s special deals because of club activities.

As someone who manages the household budget, that’s something I absolutely have to protect.

“Kurose-san, how about we eat here?”

“Sure!”

She may now be my full-fledged stalker, but she’s still a beautiful girl.

Her smile is still captivating.

If only she weren’t a stalker.

“But you usually eat in the classroom, right? Why the courtyard today?”

“…I have a lot of things I want to ask you.”

If this continues, my high school life is in danger.

I might end up mentally ill.

“I’ll answer anything you ask, Motobu-san. Whether it’s my measurements or my preferences, anything.”

Too close. Way too close.

Her shoulder is practically touching mine. She’s way too close.

“…That’s okay. What I wanted to ask is…”

“Yes?”

“Oh, but first, try this.”

“Can I?!”

I offered her a piece of tamagoyaki.

“It’s delicious, Motobu-san♡”

“Is that so?”

Next, I handed her a meatball.

This one was just a frozen one, with no extra effort put in.

“…It’s, it’s delicious, Motobu-san.”

It seems she didn’t taste anything this time.

Is she unresponsive to frozen foods?

But she still eats with determination.

Well, she normally eats regular meals, so not tasting anything must be normal for her now.

“Next, try this.”

Next was sautéed bacon and spinach.

I simply sautéed the frozen bacon and spinach in butter and added a bit of pepper.

“It’s delicious.”

It seems she could taste this one.

When she doesn’t taste something, she seems to force herself to swallow it, though just barely.

“Can I try some of your bento too, Kurose-san?”

“You can, but are you sure?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… I followed the recipe, but since I have no sense of taste, I’m not sure if the seasoning is right.”

“I’ll give it a try.”

Kurose-san looked at me anxiously.

I chewed and tried to figure out the taste.

It was bland.

She seemed to have followed the recipe, so there was some flavor, but it wasn’t the kind of dish a person with normal taste would make. Or maybe she just likes her food extremely bland.

But she did say she had a taste disorder.

If she liked bland food, my bento side dishes would have tasted way too strong to her.

“How did the tamagoyaki taste?”

“The broth flavor was strong, and it was really good.”

“What about the meatball? Did you taste anything? Be honest.”

“…It felt like I was eating clay.”

“How about the sautéed dish?”

“It was salty and went well with rice. It was delicious.”

She seems to be able to taste broth and saltiness.

Both are salt-based flavors.

The meatballs are coated in a sweet sauce, and no matter what, they don’t taste like clay.

Does she only taste saltiness, or does she not react to sweet flavors?