My Tsundere Childhood Friend, Who Was Always Haughty, Suddenly Showing a Sharp Increase in Affection and Directing Intense, Heavy Emotions Toward Me

Chapter 26: So, Haruto Thinks We Look Like a Couple

As Saturday morning dawned, I found myself studying with Sana from early on. We weren’t playing around or chatting—just quietly focusing on our work together.

“It’s about time for lunch,” Sana said.

“Oh, it’s already that late?” I replied, glancing at the digital clock on the desk. I hadn’t realized how much time had passed.

“What should we do for lunch? Go out to eat somewhere, or maybe order delivery?” I asked.

“Since we’re here, how about I make lunch for us?” Sana offered.

“Really? Isn’t that a lot of trouble?” I said.

“It’s fine. I wanted to thank you for helping me study anyway,” she replied.

“Well, in that case, I’ll take you up on it,” I said.

I felt a bit guilty, but after taste-testing Sana’s homemade bentos, my stomach was completely won over, and I couldn’t resist the temptation.

“…Oh, wait, I don’t think there’s much in the fridge,” I added.

“Then let’s go shopping now. Come on, Haruto, you’re coming with me,” Sana said.

“Yeah, of course,” I agreed.

We locked up the house and headed out. It was late May, and the weather was noticeably hotter than a month ago. Next month, we’d switch to summer uniforms, so it was bound to get even warmer.

“So, what are you planning to make for lunch?” I asked.

“How about omurice? I know it’s been your favorite since forever,” Sana said.

“Seriously? That’s awesome!” I exclaimed.

“I’m making it for you, so you’d better be grateful,” she teased.

Sana seemed confident, so I was sure it’d be good. It felt like she was gripping my stomach tighter and tighter.

We arrived at the supermarket and started walking through the aisles together. Being a Saturday near Kurashiki Station, the store was pretty crowded.

I usually shopped at convenience stores and didn’t come to supermarkets often, so I wasn’t sure where anything was. But Sana knew exactly where to go, so it wasn’t an issue.

“Walking around buying ingredients like this kind of feels like we’re newlyweds, doesn’t it?” Sana said.

“We’re way too young to pass for newlyweds. At best, we’d look like a couple,” I replied.

“Oh, so Haruto thinks we look like a couple, huh?” she teased.

“N-no, I just meant we’d look more like a couple than newlyweds!” I stammered.

“I’ll let that slide,” she said with a smirk.

I’d spoken without thinking and ended up getting teased big time, so I turned away, embarrassed. Sana had become kinder compared to her old, brash self, but moments like this felt like her teasing had leveled up into something dangerously sharp.

“By the way, your mom and dad aren’t home today, right?” Sana asked.

“Yeah, Dad’s on a business trip, and Mom’s in Kyoto meeting some college friends. They won’t be back until tomorrow evening,” I said.

When I was in elementary school, they probably wouldn’t have both been gone for a whole day, but now that I’m in high school, a day or two is no big deal.

“Then I’ll make dinner tonight too,” Sana declared.

“Really? You sure?” I asked.

“It’s no trouble at all. I’m thinking of curry rice, so let’s grab those ingredients too,” she said.

Sana tossed the ingredients for omurice and curry rice into the shopping basket. She quickly checked the vegetables and meat, clearly knowing what she was doing. It hit me again how much she’d grown.

Watching Sana become more and more charming made me happy, but at the same time, I couldn’t help feeling a bit lonely, like she was slipping further away from me.

She’d even been confessed to recently, and I knew moments like this, just the two of us, would probably become rarer. Thinking about it made my chest ache a little.

—

Chapter 27: As Expected, It Took Just a Moment for People to Figure Out I’m with Haruto

After finishing our shopping at the supermarket, we headed back home. The ingredients stuffed into our reusable bags added some weight on the way back, but I showed my manliness and carried them.

“Well then, it’s finally time to make your favorite, Haruto—omurice!” Sana said.

“Is there anything I can help with?” I asked.

“No need for that, I’ve got it covered. Oh, but since we’re here, I’d love for you to watch me while I cook.”

“That’s an easy enough request,” I replied.

To be honest, I was curious about how Sana cooked, so this was perfect. She changed into an apron and got right to work. The way she skillfully chopped onions and chicken looked pretty impressive. Then she started heating butter in a frying pan.

“Not that I doubted you, but you’ve really gotten good at cooking,” I said.

“I’m not the same Sana I used to be,” she replied.

“Yeah, I mean, cooking class in elementary school was kind of a disaster, wasn’t it?”

“Forget that right now! That’s my dark past!” she snapped.

Back in fourth grade, we were in the same class and cooking group, but Sana struggled—badly. She couldn’t cut vegetables properly, burned things, and made all sorts of mistakes.

I still remember how she forced me to eat the failed dishes from that cooking class, which was rough. So, when she first brought me a bento to try, I secretly braced myself. While I was lost in those thoughts, Sana tossed the onions and chicken into the frying pan and started stir-frying them with ease.

“So, are you starting to see me in a new light?” she asked.

“No exaggeration, I’m more than just a little impressed,” I said.

“And don’t worry, the taste is guaranteed to be amazing, so just wait and see.”

“Yeah, if it tasted awful after all this flair you’re putting into it, I’d be shocked.”

I kept watching her cook from the side, and she finished the chicken rice without any trouble. Even the tricky egg part, which is tough to get right, she draped perfectly over the rice. There was no doubt about it—Sana had completely overcome her old cooking struggles.

“Oh, I’ll handle the ketchup too, so just leave it as is,” she said.

“Alright, go for it,” I replied.

I hadn’t done anything, and I figured I could at least help with the ketchup, but since Sana seemed intent on doing it herself, I let her take charge.

“…Whoa, I thought you were being awfully careful with the ketchup, and you went and made a heart shape?” I said.

“Ketchup on omurice is supposed to be a heart. That’s just how it’s done,” she declared.

“Where’d you hear that?” I asked.

I figured Akiya had probably put some weird idea in her head, so I asked, but her answer caught me off guard.

“My mom says so, so it’s gotta be true. You’ve seen it before, right?”

“…Now that you mention it, yeah.”

I’d eaten omurice made by Sana’s mom a few times when we were kids, and thinking back, I realized she did always draw a heart with the ketchup.

“So, that’s why a heart is the only way to go. Or what, Haruto, do you want me to write your name instead?” she teased.

“No, the heart’s fine,” I said.

I mean, I’m in high school now—having my name written on omurice would be embarrassing. As I was thinking that, Sana pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of the omurice.

She’s probably going to post it on social media. Sana’s always uploading photos to those sparkly, trendy social media accounts that girls are into these days.

“Oh, I already got a comment!” she said.

“People have time to comment even with tests coming up, huh?” I remarked.

“As expected, it took just a moment for people to figure out I’m with you,” she said.

“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?” I exclaimed.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and opened Sana’s account. Sure enough, there was the omurice photo with a caption, but it didn’t mention me at all.

Even so, the comments read things like, “Still as close as ever with Kurosaki-kun, huh?” But looking closer, I noticed a guy’s arm—clearly mine—in the omurice photo. So that’s it. This accidental “hinting” vibe in the picture was the culprit.

“Maybe you should delete it?” I suggested.

“No need for that. It’s not like it’s hurting anyone,” she said casually.

Since Sana brushed it off like it was no big deal, I didn’t push further. It’s not like it’s a problem for me either, so if she’s fine with it, that’s good enough.