I Will Do Everything In My Power To Bring Happiness To The Enchanting Beauty Who Can No Longer Smile. - Chapter 3: I Don’t Know The Taste.

I Don’t Know The Taste.

“…You can’t taste anything? Since when?”

“Right after I started middle school.”

Sakakibara muttered softly. Slowly, little by little. She spoke, though her words were few.

“The black coffee I drank before work lost its taste. That was the beginning.”

“…Black coffee? In middle school? But you liked sweet things, didn’t you?”

“I did. But black coffee kept me from getting sleepy, so I started drinking it.”

If I remember correctly, that was around the time her popularity began to skyrocket. Wasn’t it also when she started being called ‘Nation’s Enchantress’?

Wait a minute. If she lost her sense of taste right after entering middle school…

“So you’ve been unable to taste for about three years now?”

“Yeah.”

Her reply was short, still devoid of emotion.

I was left speechless.

As someone who loves eating and started cooking as an extension of that, it was… terrifying to even imagine.

“Drinks all taste the same. Food, too. I can only tell by texture and smell.”

“…So, this too?”

It was just a little mischief on my part. I wanted to see how she’d react to corn potage, which smelled sweet but wasn’t sweet at all.

…But I never expected to discover something like this.

“Sorry.”

Her voice had been flat from the beginning. Even so, I felt like there was a faint, dark tint seeping into her apology.

“…No, I’m the one who should apologize. That was a weird thing to do. Want me to clean up?”

“No. I’ll drink it.”

Thinking it must feel strange, I asked, but Sakakibara picked up the mug and took a sip.

Seeing that, I picked up my own mug again.

“Is the modeling life tough?”

“…No, not really.”

“…I see. Have you been to the hospital about your sense of taste?”

“I have.”

As she drank the corn potage, I waited for her to continue.

She gripped the mug tightly before speaking.

“They said it’s probably caused by stress.”

“…It’ll get better, right?”

“They said it should, once I’m free from stress.”

Which means… she’s still under stress. That’s how difficult her life must be.

“If you want, you can talk to me about it.”

“…”

She stared into her mug. Then, her eyes—deep and dark—turned towards me.

—They held no color.

“…I don’t want to.”

“…I see. Sorry.”

If she doesn’t want to talk about it, I shouldn’t push. There’s also confidentiality, and she probably can’t tell me much anyway. It was a careless question.

“But I will say this: after school, I have a little bit of free time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Every Monday after school, I have free time.”

“…And the other days?”

“Work. I’ll probably have to skip school often, too.”

…I see. Judging by this, she must be living an extremely hectic life.

There are so many things I want to ask, but since she just said she doesn’t want to talk about it, I shouldn’t. Maybe someday, if there’s an opportunity.

But there was one thing I needed to ask.

“Is it okay for you to spend your precious day off with me?”

Wouldn’t it be better for her to actually rest? Especially when she works six days a week… that’s a truly valuable break.

When I asked, she stared at me intently.

“I have something I want to ask you.”

“Ask me?”

Sakakibara nodded.

As I tilted my head in curiosity, she continued, never breaking eye contact.

“I don’t know what to do on a day off. Can you tell me?”

Her words were as flat as ever. But maybe that’s why I started thinking.

It would be easy to refuse. She wouldn’t show any signs of disappointment, and tomorrow, her usual school life would resume.

Maybe she’d ask someone else how to spend a day off. Or maybe she’d just literally ‘rest’ without doing anything.

I closed my eyes to think. But I didn’t have enough information to come to a conclusion, so I gave up and opened them again.

“Before that, let me ask something. Your inability to taste—it’s not some aftereffect of an illness, right? There was that trending disease a while ago…”

“I haven’t had a cold in the past three years. I also got checked at a big hospital, so it’s probably not that.”

“…I see.”

So, stress is the confirmed cause. She won’t talk about it, but her work must be a significant burden.

…If that’s the case, maybe I can help.

“Alright. I’ll teach you how to spend your day off.”

“…Are you sure?”

Even though she was the one who asked, Sakakibara still sought confirmation.

“Yeah. If learning how to relax helps you relieve stress, you might regain your sense of taste.”

“Why would you go that far?”

I tilted my head at her words, and perhaps feeling that wasn’t enough, she elaborated.

“You don’t really have any obligation to do this, do you?”

“…Ah, so that’s what you mean.”

I understood her doubt. Maybe she realized I was serious. But it’s simple.

“If my childhood friend is struggling, I want to help. That’s all.”

“…Childhood friend.”

“Ah, does that sound weird? Usually, childhood friends go to the same elementary, middle, and high school.”

I had already called her that in front of others, so it was a little late to reconsider—but then, Sakakibara shook her head vigorously.

“No, childhood friend is fine. No… I want to be called that.”

“R-Really?”

Her reaction was stronger than I expected. Her expression and tone hadn’t changed, but this was the most emotion she had shown all day.

Well, if that’s what she wants, then childhood friends it is.

“Alright then. So every Monday, we’ll spend time together?”

“Yeah. At home, like today, or going out somewhere.”

“Do you have a curfew?”

“Not really… but I want to be home before it gets too late. My mom picks me up when I call.”

“So you can stay out pretty late.”

That means until about ten, maybe nine at the earliest. More time than I expected.

“Can you stay for dinner?”

“If I let them know in advance, yes… Is that okay?”

“Of course. My parents would be happy. And I handle the cooking.”

“You can cook?”

“I’ve been practicing. You can’t taste, but you can smell, right? Cooking isn’t just about taste.”

If I use spices well, maybe she’ll enjoy it more. There’s a lot to figure out, but we’ll manage.

“…Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

As I quietly accepted her gratitude, I thought to myself.

Sakakibara has changed a lot. She said she had to.

To survive in the entertainment industry, she must have had to.

But in exchange… she has lost so much.

Her sense of taste. Her smile.

“Sakakibara.”

“What?”

“Can I call you ‘Tsubame’ again, like before?”

She hesitated for a moment—not out of reluctance, but surprise.

“Sure. Then I’ll call you ‘Shigure-kun’ again.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

Since we’ve reunited, I want her to smile again. To truly rest.

“Tsubame.”

“What, Shigure-kun?”

“From now on, let’s do this properly. As childhood friends.”