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 79-80

Chapter 79: Things That Were Thrown Away

A full-time househusband’s mornings start early.

“Breakfast is done.”

He wakes up at 5 AM to make breakfast for all the guests.

“The hardest part is juggling this with all the Obon tasks at the same time.”

Yesterday, Tomitsugu-senpai was whining about wanting to go to the beach, but while Obon on the mainland is held during the regular season, Okinawa celebrates Obon according to the lunar calendar.

Manoka-san takes time off during the mainland’s Obon holidays and then takes additional leave to match Okinawa’s Obon, which makes her feel awkward every year. She always complains about it with a drink in hand.

“Yesterday was ‘Unke’ (welcoming), today is ‘Nakabi’ (the middle day), and tomorrow is ‘Ukui’ (farewell) … Since we don’t have any relatives, it’s not as bad, but it’s still too busy. A full-time househusband high school student, hosting both deceased ancestors and classmates…”

This is the ancient Okinawan tradition of lunar Obon. Over three days, ancestors are welcomed, hosted, and then sent off on the final day. During this time, relatives typically gather, eat, drink, and make a lot of noise, making it a busy time. But for the Motobu family, there are only three people left.

So, yesterday after a barbecue, the three of them from the Motobu family visited the grave to welcome their ancestors. It’s a tight schedule because welcoming the ancestors is usually done on the evening of the first day.

“Speaking of which, today is Eisa.”

“Eisa? What’s that?”

“Oh, good morning, Amatsuka-san.”

“Good morning, Motobu-kun.”

Amatsuka-san, still in her pajamas and looking a bit sleepy, asks the question. Now that I think about it, it’s the first time I’ve seen her just after waking up. She was really cute.

“Eisa is… um, how do I put it? It’s like the Okinawan version of the Bon Odori dance from the mainland.”

“The Okinawan Bon Odori.”

“They beat drums and dance. Tonight, they’ll be passing through this area.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“I enjoy Eisa myself, so I’m looking forward to it.”

Since the dance itself is unique, explaining it with words is quite difficult, so I showed her a video. The power of technology is wonderful.

“So many people are dancing.”

“Each role is decided, and there are various other things too, so it’s fun to watch.”

Eisa festivals are also held in various regions. Each youth group from different areas dances in their own style, making it entertaining for the locals to watch.

“We can see this tonight?”

“Yes, they’ll be dancing as they walk through the streets.”

These days, you can pretty much track where they’ll be through social media. It’s a blessing.

“That’s so nice. I want to wear something like that.”

“There are places where you can try on these outfits too. They’re geared towards tourists.”

“Really?!”

Amatsuka-san immediately starts searching for information on her phone. How much do you want to wear one? Well, it would be cute, though.

“Hey, Motobu-kun, after Obon is over, why don’t we go together? It looks like we can take a bus there too.”

“Sure. Since it’s a good opportunity.”

“Yay! I’m super excited!”

Now fully awake, Amatsuka-san is watching more videos of Eisa. Living in Tokyo, experiencing something like this probably feels like an exciting escape from the ordinary.

As an Okinawan, it makes me happy to see her enjoy it so much.

“Oh, Motobu-kun, wear a costume too, okay? I want to take pictures with you.”

“No, I’ll pass.”

“Come on! You’re the master, and I’m the student. Let’s take a picture together!”

“I don’t think the costumes have anything to do with that.”

Despite my response, Amatsuka-san happily continues to look through the videos. Just like with Kurose-san’s outfit selection, Amatsuka-san really is just a typical girl, I suppose.

I’ve already let go of my interest in clothes and such, so I’m a bit envious of how her eyes still sparkle with excitement over these things.

“Let’s definitely go!”

“Alright.”

Being with Amatsuka-san makes me feel like I can reclaim some of the things I’ve thrown away.

—

Chapter 80: No One Wants to Show Their Embarrassing Past

“This pork belly stew is delicious.”

“The mochi is so tasty.”

“The awamori is good.”

“Miaki-chan, can I have more of that Bireley’s?”

It’s the second day of Obon, called Nakabi. The guests are relaxing at the Motobu house. Bikoku-san is enjoying her Bireley’s juice, and Amatsuka-san is happily eating the pork belly stew.

I had Amatsuka-san help me prepare some of the food for our ancestors, and it seems she really enjoys Okinawan cuisine.

“Hey, Hinata-chan, you’ve eaten so much mochi that your speech is getting slurred.”

“But it’s so good!”

For some reason, Naoto-san is cross-dressing today. Or rather, he’s “Sanmiya Nao” now. Apparently, he went on a sisterly date with Hinata-san. It seems like they had fun, which is good.

“Takeru-kun, when’s the Eisa dance starting?”

“It’s hot, so please don’t cling to me.”

The adults—Manoka-san, Nao-san, and the advisor—are all completely drunk on awamori. Apparently, mixing awamori with a lactic acid drink like Meiguruto in a 1:1 ratio makes for a tasty drink. The relatively mild Zampa Shiro awamori is easy to drink, and they seem to have drunk too much of it.

Come on, guardians, get it together. This is just sloppy.

“Motobu-kun, doesn’t Nao-san seem kind of sexy? Am I the only one who feels that way?”

“That person is probably not human, so I don’t think you’re a minority. It’s okay.”

What are you getting flustered about, Momohara? Is it that strange charm of Naoto-san that even makes him appealing as a trap?

Someday, Momohara will probably go down that path too. Yeah, I can see it. I’ll support you. Cute is justice, after all.

“Motobu, can you teach me how to make this pork belly stew sometime?”

“Sure. But the recipe uses awamori, so it might be a bit difficult to make it over there.”

“For real?”

“Well, the main difference between this and regular braised pork is the skin, so if you substitute sake for awamori, you can probably get a similar flavor.”

“You can even adapt recipes, huh? Impressive.”

“I’m a full-time househusband, after all.”

“Here we go, Motobu-kun’s mysterious househusband flex!”

“Amatsuka-san, please stop. It makes it harder to deliver my catchphrase.”

Stop praising me. It’s embarrassing; I might just die from the shame. Maybe I should just go to the sea with the ancestors.

… A few years from now, Amatsuka-san might laugh at this as part of my embarrassing past. If she does, I might really die.

“Kurose-san, you’ve been eating nonstop. Aren’t you overdoing it?”

“I have to eat a lot of Motobu-san’s cooking, or else I’ll die. I want to eat when I can, so I can live without regrets, even if I suddenly die.”

“That’s heavy. It’s heavy, so calm down. You don’t have to eat so urgently. Just stay healthy.”

“Is that… a confession of love?!”

“No, it’s not.”

For some reason, I felt like the temperature around us just dropped by about five degrees. I started sweating nervously. Well, I do have the AC on, though.

“Tomitsugu-senpai, do you like Okinawa soba?”

“Well, it’s alright, I guess.”

Tomitsugu-senpai, who usually has something to complain about when it comes to food, was quietly slurping Okinawa soba. The soup stock for Okinawa soba is sold at almost any supermarket in Okinawa, but this time, I made it myself. I adjusted the flavor slightly to suit the tastes of people from Tokyo.

If even Tomitsugu-senpai, who likes French and Italian cuisine, liked it, then I’ve won. Even though he’s turned away, he keeps eating, so at least his stomach is honest.

“Onii-chan, it looks like it’s about time.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m excited to see the Eisa dance.”

Amatsuka-san is restless with anticipation for the Eisa dance. Originally, Eisa was a dance meant to entertain the spirits of the ancestors, but it’s fun for both the living and the dead.

Even Okinawa’s introverts tend to like Eisa. I figure it must have some kind of appeal that’s different from the extrovert vibe, though that’s just my personal analysis. But it’s probably just my bias.

“Oh, Onii-chan, didn’t you play the big drum during the Eisa dance when you were in elementary school?”

“Really?”

“Well, that was a long time ago.”

“Motobu, you should dance the Eisa at our school festival.”

“No way, President. Don’t spring that on me.”

This little student council president doesn’t seem to understand that I’m just a background character now. I’m powerless in Tokyo. I can’t manage Eisa or teach the dance.

“Chika-san, do you have any photos of Motobu-kun from his elementary school days? I’d love to see them.”

“No, you really don’t need to.”

“I do!”

“Hey, Chika, stop!”

Vice President Nakamichi is joining in on the mischief… Why does everyone want to see old photos so badly? Please, stop it.

“Oh, I hear the drums. Everyone, let’s go.”

“You’re just trying to change the subject.”

“But really, you can hear it.”

Eisa saved me. I’m truly grateful. Everyone gets up and heads outside.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Amatsuka-san was brimming with excitement. I almost fell for her by accident.