The Beautiful Girl Who Asked Me to Pretend to Be Her Boyfriend Didn’t Want to Break up With Me for Some Reason - Chapter 44

“Alright, then. Let’s start preparing dinner.”

“Today’s menu is hamburg steaks, right? I’m looking forward to it.”

It was the afternoon of the day we went to buy swimsuits.
In the kitchen at home, I was about to start preparing dinner with Shirafuji.

This was part of Shirafuji’s long-awaited cooking practice.
To match the occasion, she had also changed into a cooking-appropriate outfit.

Her hair was tied back in a single ponytail, and she wore a brand-new white apron.

The apron had a cute embroidery of a simplified cat at the hem.

She seemed to be getting into the cooking mindset, murmuring to herself, “When cutting ingredients, use a cat’s paw hand…” as she curled her left hand into a rounded shape.

As Shirafuji had mentioned, today’s dinner was going to be hamburg steaks.

To summarize the steps: chop the ingredients, mix the meat, shape it, and then cook.

I’d take care of the sauce and side dishes, so her task was to handle the process up until the patties were cooked.

While it wasn’t particularly difficult, there were parts that might be tricky for someone inexperienced.

I intended to help if needed, but I decided to let Shirafuji handle as much as possible.

“First, finely chop the onions. It’s tough right from the start, but do you think you can manage?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“That’s the spirit. But make sure to prioritize safety. Also, one tip—don’t touch your eyes with onion-covered hands, even if you feel like crying. It’ll sting more.”

“…If I start crying, will Hakuto wipe my tears?”

“Sure, I guess…”

Though I couldn’t help but wonder if that might get in the way, I agreed and got started.

First, I peeled the onion and cut off the stem ends.

Round onions are harder to cut, and I didn’t want her to hurt herself, so I handled that much.

I then halved the onion, placing one half on the cutting board and setting the other aside for later use.

When I passed it over to Shirafuji, she carefully placed her “cat’s paw” hand beside it and hesitantly brought the knife closer. With a chop, a satisfying sound echoed.

Since the onions were going to be finely chopped, they didn’t need to be cut perfectly.

I’d explained that beforehand, and Shirafuji didn’t seem too concerned as she kept cutting… though—

“…I didn’t realize onions sting this much.”

Tears were already welling up in her eyes.
She tried blinking slowly to hold them back, but they wouldn’t stop.

“I’ll wipe your tears.”

“Sorry, please.”

When Shirafuji paused, I wiped her tears.

…It kind of felt like I was the one who made her cry.

I knew I was overthinking it, but still.

On top of that, even her crying face looked picturesque.

Was it her naturally refined features, or something else? These thoughts crossed my mind as I finished wiping her tears. Shirafuji then resumed chopping the onions.

She stopped again a few minutes later.

On the cutting board, uneven but acceptably chopped onions were spread out.

“This looks good enough. You did well.”

“Thank you. I feel like I could’ve chopped them finer, though…”

“If they’re coarse, they’ll add a nice texture. Now, let’s sauté the onions until they turn golden brown.”

Before mixing the onions into the meat, we sautéed them.

Personally, I think sautéing them adds more depth of flavor, so I always do it.

I heated a pan with a bit of oil and carefully sautéed the onions over low heat, stirring to prevent burning. Once they turned golden brown, I transferred them to a bowl.

Next, we mixed the onions with the ground meat and seasonings to make the meat mixture.

This was a simple mixing process, so Shirafuji didn’t seem to struggle much.

Meanwhile, I prepared the sauce and side dishes.

For the sauce, I used store-bought demi-glace. The side dishes were the usual carrots and potatoes.

I cut the carrots and potatoes into bite-sized pieces, sautéed them with butter in a pan, and heated them until the moisture evaporated. This created a glossy finish.

I also made a soup, opting for a pot-au-feu-style consommé.

The ingredients were onions, carrots, potatoes, and some sausages.

I simply boiled them and added consommé, leaving it to simmer.

While I worked, Shirafuji seemed to finish making the meat mixture.

However, the next step was where I thought things might get tricky.

“Now, shape the mixture into patties. Make sure to press out the air so they don’t fall apart while cooking. Give it a try.”

“Do you think I can manage with my clumsiness?”

“It’s fine if you mess up. You’ll get the hang of it eventually.”

“…Alright. I’ll give it a shot.”

Though she seemed uncertain, Shirafuji picked up the meat mixture and started shaping it.

She carefully formed a single serving into an oval shape, pressing out the air as she went.

Her movements were awkward, but she managed to press out the air fairly well.

Whenever the shape deformed, she adjusted it, finally achieving a result she seemed satisfied with. She placed the patty on a tray, and while we were at it, I had her make mine as well. Once we had two patties, she heated oil in a frying pan and began cooking them.

As the smell of sizzling meat filled the kitchen, Shirafuji focused intently on the pan, looking both nervous and excited.

“It won’t cook that quickly, you know.”

“…I know, but I’m scared of messing up.”

“A bit of charring is fine. If it gets too burnt, I’ll step in before it becomes inedible.”

There was no point in overthinking it.

Still, I understood her desire not to fail, so I stayed nearby, keeping an eye on her while working on the soup.

She carefully flipped the patty to check the doneness. It had browned nicely, and she let out a sigh of relief.

She repeated the process for the other side, then simmered the patties in the demi-glace sauce, completing the dish.

Since this was a special occasion, I had her handle the plating as well.

She placed the hamburg steaks in the center of the plates, added the side dishes of carrots and potatoes, and brought everything to the table, along with the soup and rice.

“Cooking isn’t complete until you eat it. Let’s dig in.”

“Yes. I hope it turned out well…”

“It looked fine, so I’m sure it’s good.”

Cooking usually turns out well if you follow the recipe and steps correctly.

Since I had been supervising, there hadn’t been any major mistakes this time.

We sat down as usual and said our thanks before eating.

When we cut into the hamburg steaks, we found they were properly cooked all the way through. Clear juices seeped out, blending with the demi-glace sauce to create an appetizing sight.

After splitting off a bite-sized piece, we looked at each other and took a bite.

“Delicious.”

“Delicious.”

Our impressions overlapped.

Shirafuji finally smiled, her face showing relief and a sense of accomplishment.

She had long struggled with cooking, so this must have been a particularly meaningful moment for her.

“…Thank you so much, Hakuto. I never thought I could make something this delicious.”

“You’re exaggerating. With proper guidance, you can handle most things, Shirafuji. You might be clumsy, but judging by your grades, you’re quite capable.”

“I’ve always felt uneasy about cooking… But after today, I think I’ve gained a little confidence. Someday, I want to be able to cook on my own.”

“Take your time. There’s no rush. You have plenty of time to learn.”

“I will. And now that I know how rewarding it is to have someone enjoy my cooking, I feel like I can try even harder.”

We continued chatting as we finished the meal in no time.

I was glad Shirafuji’s first homemade dish turned out to be such a success.

Still, I couldn’t help but feel a bit sad thinking that I’d have fewer chances to cook if she became proficient.

But honestly, the thought of enjoying Shirafuji’s homemade meals was far more exciting.