The Most Beautiful Girl in School Has Become a Mother - Chapter 25: The Magic of the Nape

After playing with Aqua Beads for a few hours, I realized it was already lunchtime. I hadn’t had breakfast this morning, so I was definitely getting hungry.

“It’s almost lunchtime, but what should we do about food? Should we order something in or…?”

“Spaghetti Napolitan!”

Before I could ask if she wanted to take it, Shuri answered cheerfully.

It seems that she really likes Neapolitan pasta. However, considering that Miori came all this way, having Neapolitan pasta again might be a bit much. Moreover, she already had it once this week.

For my part, I thought it would be okay to order something a bit nicer on Uber Eats, even if it wasn’t delivery sushi.

“Miori, is there anything you want to eat?”

“I’ll have whatever Shuri-chan wants to eat.”

Miori is Miori, and that’s that.

The problem is that this “mom” is a bit too indulgent with her daughter. Well, I do spoil her enough myself, though.

“Uh… Seriously? Well then, I’ll go with Neapolitan pasta.”

“Yeah! Let’s go!”

At that moment, when Shuri spoke, “Retort?” Miori reacted with a start.

And then, her expression quickly turned stern.

“Could it be that Isaki-kun is feeding such a small child instant rice…?”

“Mom” gives me a sidelong glance.

Where did that Virgin Mary-like smile go? Those eyes are really scary.

“Wait, wait! I try to cook for myself as much as possible! But I’m not very good at cooking, and when it comes to Neapolitan pasta, she says the homemade ones taste bad and won’t eat them!”

I just want to deny the things that need to be denied. I am making an effort, even though I’m not good at cooking.

“Dad’s Neapolitan pasta is the best!”

The voice of Shuri’s rejection pierces my heart.

I can’t help but feel sympathy when I think that all the “dads” in the world are living like this, being hurt by their daughters.

Moreover, since it was a clear rejection from a child who usually doesn’t complain, I was even more shocked by how bad it must have been. Well, I already knew it wouldn’t taste good even if I ate it myself.

Seeing our situation, Miori let out a small sigh, took out only her smartphone and wallet from her bag, and stood up.

“Is the nearest supermarket the one near that bus stop?”

“The Commit over there is closer to the right after you exit the entrance and go up the hill but… what’s wrong?”

“I’m going to buy the ingredients at the supermarket, so Shuri-chan, please wait a bit.”

“I’ll make it,” Miori added with a troubled smile.

It seems that she plans to buy the ingredients at the supermarket and make Neapolitan pasta herself.

“Wait, no, hold on. There’s no way I’m going to let a guest do something like that. If that’s the case, I’ll go get it myself.”

I hurriedly stop her as she slowly tries to leave the place.

After all, I can’t have a guest do the shopping and then make her cook as well.

“No, I’ll go. It seems close.”

She checks the location of Super Commit on her smartphone and says.

Indeed, it’s only a few minutes’ walk to the supermarket, but that’s not the issue. Even though she is keeping Shuri company, I can’t have them run errands as well.

“No, if it’s just the ingredients, I can go buy them. You don’t have to hold back.”

“It’s not so much about being considerate… I just can’t trust the eyes of someone who loses to instant Napolitan.”

Miori’s piercing gaze stabbed into me and with that gaze and her sharp words, fresh blood gushed from my delicate heart.

It means that she can’t trust my eye for ingredients. It’s frustrating, but there’s some truth to it. I always buy vegetables haphazardly, so I have no idea what’s good or bad.

“Hey, Shuri-chan. Do you want to try Mom’s Neapolitan spaghetti?”

“Wait, Mom’s?! I want to eat it!”

In response to Miori’s question, Shuri answered cheerfully.

It goes without saying that she looked at me with a smug expression.

“Hmph, the recent ready-to-eat meals are actually quite delicious, right? If you underestimate them, you’ll get tripped up and end up crying just like me when someone says, ‘The ready-to-eat meals are better.'”

“I’m not trying to deny the taste of retort food, but I don’t want my child to eat it.”

“There’s a lot of additives and stuff in it,” Miori said sulkily.

It’s completely the right argument, and I have no retort whatsoever.

However, there’s no need to say such things. It’s precisely because I understand that I cook for myself. But if my sister, who usually doesn’t complain, tells me it’s bad, I have no choice but to switch to ready-made meals. It’s a difficult choice for me as well.

In the end, Miori went straight to the supermarket, and I waited for her return with Shuri.

After waiting for twenty minutes, the most beautiful girl in school returned, carrying two large shopping bags that were quite uncharacteristic of her appearance.

When I hurriedly took her bag, she smiled with relief and said, “Thank you.” Seeing a bit of sweat on her forehead, it seemed she had been in quite a rush.

“Can I borrow the kitchen?”

“Well, I don’t mind, but… the seasonings and stuff.”

“I bought everything we need all at once, so it’s fine. Oh, and I’ll borrow an apron too.”

Miori said, taking the apron hanging on the wall—something I usually use—and putting it on, then lightly tying her long hair with a scrunchie she had on her wrist.

──Ugh, wow…

As her hair fluttered for a moment, the pleasant scent of shampoo tickled my nostrils. At the same time, I caught a glimpse of Imiya Miori’s nape, which I had never seen before.

White and alluring, there was an indescribable emotion there.

──Th-this combination is… too stimulating.

My head spun, and I involuntarily took a step back.

What on earth is this? Just tying her hair up, and yet I was hit with a stimulus akin to something rated R-18. Terrifying, Imiya Miori.

“What’s wrong?”

As I was staring at that beautiful nape, Miori turned around and tilted her head in confusion.

“N-nothing at all…”

Ashamed of my base desires, I crouched down. I absolutely do not want to bury my face in that nape. There is no way I would think such a thing.

She has a question mark floating above her head, but please, don’t probe any further. It might end up being more off-putting than the “become my mother” comment.

“Mom’s Neapolitan pasta, looking forward to it!”

Shuri also comes to the kitchen, looking excited.

She doesn’t come when I’m cooking, but what’s with this difference?

“I’m going to make delicious Napolitan, so please wait for me.”

Miori was stroking Shuri’s head with a smile reminiscent of the Virgin Mary.

And so, the cooking of the school’s number one beauty and “mom” began.