When I Picked Up A Stunningly Gorgeous Downer-Type Beauty In Front Of The Entrance. - Chapter 76: Should We Eat Soba Noodles When Moving In, or Hand Them Out?

Should We Eat Soba Noodles When Moving In, or Hand Them Out?

I sprawl out on top of the cardboard boxes stacked in the living room of our new home, letting my limbs go limp like a discarded futon. Sajou-sama, draped over like a dried-out futon, looks at me with an incredulous gaze, but I just shrug it off—it can’t be helped.

Starting a new life entails being swept up in constant changes. It takes time to get used to.

But there are things that can withstand those changes and things that cannot.

Just as I started university, I was already worn out enough to collapse on top of these boxes. Deciding which lectures to attend, figuring out where everything is on campus—imagining new changes like these can really wear you down.

However, the biggest problem isn’t me.

With my face drooping, I look over. Sajou-san, wearing a new apron and swaying her captivating hips while preparing lunch in the kitchen, causes my complaints to fall on deaf ears.

“You are too popular… Seriously.”

“…It doesn’t matter.”

To my grumbling, Sajou-san replies with her back turned.

For her, that might be the case, but everyone else doesn’t see it that way.

“Oh, you’re so beautiful.”

“Oh, which lectures are you taking?”

“Oh, do you have a boyfriend?”

“Oh, want to have lunch together?”

I’ve practically covered all the cliché pick-up lines just by imagining them. Even with me right beside her, people don’t care and sometimes even try to use me as a stepping stone, which is quite annoying.

I get it. I understand.

Since high school, Sajou-san has been too beautiful with her perfect face, cool style, and on top of that, her ample chest. As she breaks out of her shell into university life, her beauty has refined further, leaving everyone breathless—a perfect description of a beauty.

Everyone wants to get closer. If I hadn’t known Sajou-san…

“Even if I first met you at university, I’m confident I wouldn’t have dared to approach you, Sajou-san.”

I said that and got hit with a ladle.

Even though I can disregard the surrounding attention towards Sajou-san, when bugs start buzzing around,

“Mosquito repellent,”

she crosses her arms and approaches me, drawing attention to myself, making me feel like I’ve become a celebrity’s boyfriend. In a way, she’s not wrong, but as an ordinary person like me, it’s quite tough, and that’s why I’m being left to dry out on top of these boxes.

University life has only just begun. Thinking it’ll continue like this for a while, I’m already feeling overwhelmed. I had imagined a normal campus life, so the damage was pretty serious.

For a while, it seems like I’ll be living a dried-up life.

“Soba’s ready, so bring out the table.”

“Yes.”

I scramble down from the boxes.

I pull out the round folding table leaned against the corner and spread it out in the middle of the room.

As evident from my drying out on top of the cardboard boxes, unpacking isn’t finished yet.

The apartment we moved into has two rooms combined into a living room. One is intended for the bedroom, where the slightly larger bed we just bought is placed… before assembly.

I’m getting tired of sleeping on the ground, so I want to get it set up quickly today.

However, moving to university and getting caught up in moving tasks means I can’t seem to find the time. There are moving boxes stacked in both rooms, and unpacking each one has proven to be more cumbersome than I thought.

I didn’t expect moving to be this difficult. I sit cross-legged in front of the table I’ve set up and sprawl out. Sajou-san then brings over a tray with steaming hot soba noodles.

On top of the soba noodles sits tempura shrimp, making it quite a generous meal.

“Yes.”

“Yay.”

I raise my hands in delight like a child.

But the soba is a bit concerning. Sitting formally with my hands together at the small table, I asked Sajou-san.

“Is it soba because we just moved?”

“…?”

“Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be?”

“Ah, I see. Well, yeah…”

Well, that settles it. But isn’t soba traditionally given as a greeting to neighbors? I think about it, but I don’t have a clear memory, so I keep quiet. It’s convenient, after all. Very convenient.

The sound of slurping soba resonates through the room. But it’s just one serving.

“…”

Quietly, with no sound, slurping away, making cute little slurps.

Sajou-san, eating her soba neatly, despite the rough living conditions, shows elegance in her manners. Is it her personality, or maybe she took her mother, who might be considered off-putting by the general public, as a reverse role model?

It might be the opposite, but I remember a woman who resembles Sajou-san but is completely different.

If I were to say what I’m thinking, a sharp, fast gaze would come at me like an arrow, so I keep my mouth full of soba, making it impossible to talk. I choked and said, “That’s disgusting…” and she squinted her eyes in disgust.

Still, she wipes my mouth with a tissue, so Sajou-san is kind. Unlike me, who was just a baby. Baboo.

If I eat silently and slurp away, the soba is finished before I know it.

I place my hands together and say, “Thank you for the meal,” while letting the two shrimp tails float on the broth. Before meeting Sajou-san, when I lived alone, I never used to say such mealtime greetings. I realize I’m being influenced by her, and it reassures me a bit.

I didn’t mean to do anything, but the impact I’ve had is so large that sometimes, I feel a bit guilty.