The Most Beautiful Girl in School Has Become a Mother

“Wow, this is really delicious. I might start liking Neapolitan pasta.”

I am moved by the taste of the Neapolitan pasta that Miori made.

The crowning touch was the sweetness of the honey. It added such a wonderful flavor that I felt it elevated the umami of the Neapolitan pasta. This sweetness made me crave white rice. I regretted not having cooked rice, to the point where I wished I had.

By the way, I’ve already apologized about three times for making fun of honey.

“I’m glad it suited your taste. I’ll write out the detailed recipe later and send it via LIME.”

“Wait, seriously!? With this, I’ll be free from instant Napolitan…”

“Retort, you hated it that much?”

Miori chuckled softly. She must have thought I was a believer in instant meals.

I must emphatically deny that part, but I was not a believer. The ready-made version was tastier than what I made myself, and even Shuri recommended the ready-made one over mine—rather, my cooking was outright rejected.

“Well… since Shuri wanted to eat it, I reluctantly went along with it. It’s really a lifesaver.”

If I can make this Neapolitan pasta myself, that’s already quite impressive. Shuri, for example, is so engrossed in eating that she can’t even hold a conversation.

Miori watched the scene with a smile, wiping the ketchup off Shuri’s mouth with a cloth. Meanwhile, Shuri, with her mouth full, directed a bright smile towards “Mom.”

──They really look like a parent and child.

Seeing that scene, I can’t help but think that way. Of course, both I and Miori are certainly not at an age where we would have a five-year-old child. However, watching the atmosphere between the two of them makes me feel that way, which is quite mysterious.

Is it that the maternal instinct that Miori originally possessed makes her look that way? Or is it the feeling of seeking Shuri’s mother that made her that way? I can’t say for sure.

But──I’m just glad that Miori and Shuri met. I honestly felt that way, and I also thought it was good that I had the guts to ask her back then. Let’s just close our eyes to the first big failure.

Moreover, it’s been quite a while since I’ve gathered around the dining table with someone other than Shuri.

Since the time my grandparents were taking care of Shuri, perhaps. At least, it was the first time since I became a high school student.

“Ah…”

At that moment, Shuri looked at us as if she had noticed something.

“Shuri-chan, what’s wrong?”

“Family Dinner! For the First Time!”

Shuri spoke with a face shining as if to say it was the discovery of the century.

After exchanging glances, Miori and I paused for a moment and then burst out laughing simultaneously.

It was embarrassing, but now Miori and I are “dad” and “mom,” so when she thinks about it, it’s “family dinner.”

For Shuri, it wasn’t just that the Neapolitan pasta was delicious or that “Mom made it,” but there was also great significance in the act of the three of them having a meal together. She had never known what it was like to eat a meal with family.

“That’s right, it’s family dinner time.”

“Yeah!”

While wiping the ketchup off Shuri’s cheek again, Miori answered with a smile.

Is it because Shuri said “dinner with family”? Watching those two, my eyelids suddenly felt hot, and my vision blurred slightly.

──If Mom were alive, would she have seen a scene like this?

Thinking about this while eating, especially when I’ve asked a classmate to take on the impossible role of “mom,” is surely rude. Miori is just going along with the exaggerated meal that Shuri wanted and I requested. It must be something she doesn’t want to be compared to her real family.

However, as I watched Miori and Shuri at that moment, an image that should never have appeared floated into my mind. It was a scene that could never have been realized in this world, no matter how much one wished for it, a scene that no one could ever see.

At this table, there was Mom, there was Shuri, and there was Dad too… the four-person dining table that should have been there. But in reality, it was a dining table that could never be realized.

If that dining table had existed, would it have been filled with such laughter? What kind of expression did Mother have while watching Shuri? Did she send gentle glances like Miori is doing now?

I should be able to imagine my mother’s face, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t picture what she would look like now, and that frustrates me. If my mother were still alive, she would surely be a bit older than the mother I knew, but I can’t grasp what that slightly older version would look like.

Mom has already been forbidden from aging since that time. I can’t even imagine how she has aged in these five years, whether she has gained a few wrinkles, or if five years isn’t enough for any change at all.

“…Isaki-kun?”

“Eh?”

Before I knew it, my vision was blurry, and I heard Miori’s worried voice calling out to me, so I blinked momentarily—and something brushed against my cheek.

I thought it was something else, but it was tears.

“What’s wrong…? Are you okay?”

“…Big brother, are you crying?”

The two of them were looking at me with worried expressions.

At that moment, I noticed that several drops were trickling down my cheek, and I hurriedly wiped them away with my arm.

“N-No! This Neapolitan pasta is just too delicious! I’ve never had anything this good before, and I’m so moved! Haha, no, Miori is amazing! If you served this tear-jerking Neapolitan pasta at a restaurant, wouldn’t it become a hit?”

I exaggeratedly cheered more than usual and slurped the pasta loudly. It was an uncouth way to eat pasta, but right now, I wanted to mask these tears with it.

“Isaki-kun…”

Miori merely murmured my name with a worried expression and didn’t pursue anything further.

For some reason, the Neapolitan I ate while feeling her gaze had a saltiness mixed with the sweetness that wasn’t there when I ate it earlier. With the pasta that had a slight brine in it, I could only continue eating, saying how delicious it was.