When I Started a Food Delivery Part-Time Job, I Ended up Being Invited to the Home of a Gloomy, Clumsy Beautiful Girl - Chapter 6-7

Chapter 6: Game Tournament

“—Oh, you’re here.”

“Yukishiro-san, good evening.”

I didn’t say things like, “UberMeats here! I brought your order!” anymore.

Even though I came for work, this was the third time we’d done this.

Since Yukishiro-san treated me so casually, I couldn’t get into work mode.

After school, my headache went away quickly, so I worked my usual shift.

As the sky got dark, I got a delivery request from Yukishiro-san and came to drop off her order.

“How’s your head?”

“It’s fine. Sorry for falling asleep earlier.”

“No, you looked like you were sleeping peacefully.”

It felt weird to know Yukishiro-san saw me sleeping.

What kind of face did she make while watching me?

“Pizza today, huh… That’s a lot of calories.”

“Yeah, a lot, I think.”

She didn’t seem to care about holding back.

I’d been thinking this for a while, but wasn’t her diet unbalanced?

No, it was definitely unbalanced.

She’s young, so it’s probably fine for now, but food is the foundation of health.

It’ll definitely affect her someday.

She might look slim, but her body could be a mess inside.

“Come in.”

“Uh, excuse me…”

Yukishiro-san smoothly led me into her room.

This was my second time here. I’d never get used to this…!!

But that nervousness quickly disappeared somewhere.

“I think I just cleaned yesterday…”

“Ehehe.”

“That’s not something to laugh about, you know?”

“Since you already saw it once, I thought it’s fine.”

The living room, which I thought was cleaned nicely last night, was now filled with scattered clothes and food trash.

I couldn’t believe how someone could make it this messy in one day.

“Wanna eat pizza and play games?”

“Cleaning first.”

“What about pizza? What about games?”

“After cleaning.”

“Pizza… games…”

Even with her cute, slightly sly expression, my heart got pulled in.

But there’s no way I could eat or play games with trash everywhere.

It’d definitely bother me and make me restless.

So, I started cleaning up the trash.

Of course, Yukishiro-san just watched.

She sat on the sofa, staring at me as I cleaned.

“Wanna help, Yukishiro-san?”

“I’ll set up the game.”

“Oh, okay…”

As soon as I said that, Yukishiro-san stopped slouching and pulled out a gaming console from under the TV.

After I finished cleaning, we sat on the sofa, ate pizza, and played games, but…

“Aizawa, you’re way too weak.”

“You’re just too good, Yukishiro-san…”

We were playing a popular kart game on the latest console.

Yukishiro-san knew every course perfectly, using shortcuts and always coming in first.

Even without shortcuts, I couldn’t win, so our experience levels were just too different.

Since it was my first time playing this game, I had no chance.

“Yesss!”

But miraculously, I won once.

It was truly a miracle.

“…Next, hurry up.”

Yukishiro-san seemed a bit annoyed.

In the next race, she crushed me with a huge lead.

“Alright!”

Yukishiro-san quietly cheered and did a little fist pump.

“…Were you mad about losing earlier?”

“Not at all…”

Her slightly pouty face was cute too…

“You were mad, huh? I’m a beginner, so losing must sting, right?”

“Aizawa… you’re mean…”

“I’m the one who got no mercy from you, even as a beginner…”

Maybe Yukishiro-san hates losing more than I thought.

Seeing her show emotions, when she usually doesn’t, made me happy.

“It’s been a while since I played games with someone.”

“Really? Didn’t you say you have friends?”

“When I do chores, I run out of time. I only play games sometimes.”

Yeah, two weeks of cleaning would eat up a lot of time.

Doesn’t she ever use a housekeeper or cleaning service? If she has money, it might be worth it.

“I see… Do your friends cook or anything?”

“Nah… they don’t.”

“So you’ve been eating like this the whole time…”

“Yeah. But it’s tasty.”

I’m not worried about taste, but nutrition…

She probably doesn’t get that right now.

I glanced at the kitchen.

This place was fancy, with an island kitchen.

It wasn’t against a wall but stood alone like an island.

It had a sink and stove, and it was spacious.

It was the kind of kitchen that made my cooking skills hum.

“—Tomorrow, I have work, so I can’t order…”

Yukishiro-san suddenly changed the topic.

Her face looked a bit lonely.

“Oh, right. You’re a model, aren’t you?”

She’s a super popular model among girls my age.

I feel like we’ve gotten close since I’ve been to her place, but normally, she wouldn’t hang out with someone like me.

“Are you lonely?”

“Not lonely.”

“Say you’re lonely.”

“Not lonely.”

“You’re not honest, Aizawa.”

“You’re too honest, Yukishiro-san…”

It was like she was admitting she was lonely.

Yesterday and today, maybe in private, Yukishiro-san is a bit clingy and lonely.

Her slightly pouty face.

Even that was cute to me.

—

Chapter 7: The Reason for Running Away

“—Hiyori-chan! Look over here!”

In front of a pure white backdrop, the sharp sound of camera shutters echoed.

Hiyori changed poses calmly as the photographer directed.

Having worked as a model for years, these shoots were routine for her, as natural as breathing.

Still—Hiyori’s face seemed lifeless.

She had a delicate beauty but gave off a cold, icy vibe. That cool, dignified charm was why so many people admired her for so long.

“Hiyori-chan, your vibe today is perfect as always!”

A magazine editor called out, holding papers while watching the shoot.

Next to them stood a woman in a sharp outfit—staring at Hiyori with harsh eyes. Her gaze, peeking from behind sunglasses, was colder than ice.

“…Her edge is worse than last month.”

“R-really…?”

“She’s definitely gotten fatter…”

“She looks the same to me…”

For a model, body shape is everything.

It’s essential to make clothes look their best.

The woman’s words cut like a knife.

“Okay, shoot’s over! Good work, everyone!”

The staff’s voice broke the tension in the room.

At that moment, Hiyori ran forward—toward one woman.

“Mom… how was today’s shoot—”

*Slap!*

A sharp sound rang through the studio.

Hiyori stood stunned, holding her cheek. The woman who slapped her was the one in sunglasses—her mother, Kokoe Yukishiro, a famous designer with her own brand.

“—Are you serious about modeling?”

“Y-yes…”

“Then what’s with that body? You’re clearly fatter than last month.”

“Uh… I…”

“Kokoe-san, that’s a bit…”

“Be quiet. This is between us.”

The editor tried to step in, but Kokoe’s cold voice stopped them.

Tears welled in Hiyori’s eyes, and her cheek began to swell red.

“If you want to keep modeling for my brand, show some real commitment. It doesn’t have to be you.—I’m going home.”

“W-wait… we were supposed to go for yakiniku after…”

“With that body? No way.”

“Mom… Mom—”

Kokoe turned her back, ignoring her daughter’s faint voice, and left the studio.

A deep shadow fell over Hiyori’s face. Staff rushed to comfort her, but it felt empty.

Soon, Hiyori pulled out her phone from her bag.

Her fingers quickly opened an app—‘UberMeats.’

The screen showed a food order page. And then—the button to request a specific driver.

◇◇◇

“Phew… almost done.”

After school, I finished my delivery job, parked my bike, and took off my helmet, wiping sweat from my forehead with a towel.

The sky was completely dark, with city lights twinkling here and there.

I thought my work was done for the day—until.

*Ping,* a notification.

“…Huh? She said she wouldn’t order today…”

The delivery app showed a request for me.

When I saw the sender’s address, I gasped. It was Hiyori Yukishiro’s house.

“What’s going on…?”

The reward amount caught my eye. Four thousand yen.

That’s the kind of pay you’d see for a party or company order.

If it’s just Yukishiro-san alone—it’d be a huge amount of food.

“No choice… I’ll go.”

I pedaled back to the store, picked up the order, and packed it into my bag.

But—

“Ugh… so heavy…”

The moment I lifted it, my back screamed. The bag was stuffed full. Just standing made me breathe hard.

Still, I made it to her apartment and took the elevator to her door.

When I rang the intercom—

“A-Aizawa…”

“—Whoa!?”

The person at the door wasn’t the usual blank-faced Yukishiro-san.

She wore mature makeup, a high-quality dress, and delicate, shiny accessories, like she stepped out of a magazine.

But tears streamed down her cheeks, and in the next moment—she threw herself into my chest.

“W-wait…!”

Her soft body pressed against me. A sweet perfume floated around.

Yet her body trembled, and her tears wouldn’t stop.

“Y-Yukishiro-san? What’s wrong? I’m all sweaty…”

“Ugh… uhh…”

Instead of answering, she clung tighter.

I didn’t know why. But I could tell something serious had happened.

“L-let’s go inside. I’ve got the stuff… okay?”

“…Uhh…”

Holding Yukishiro-san, who gave a vague reply, I managed to get to the living room.

Even when we sat on the sofa, she wouldn’t let go of my chest.

“Um… maybe let go soon…?”

She showed no sign of moving, just shaking her head.

Normally, I’d be thrilled, but my heart felt uneasy.

It wasn’t joy—it was the weight of her sadness hitting me.

The food, which she’d usually dig into right away, sat untouched in front of us.

—What happened?

I didn’t know. But I spoke softly.

“…Can you listen, just like this?”

I felt a small nod.

So I started talking about myself.

“I started living alone because I hated home. Well, more like… my dad, I guess.”

It’d been a month since I left.

I enjoyed the free life, but it wasn’t perfect—honestly.

“My family runs a traditional Japanese restaurant. I’ve been helping out there since I was little.”

It’s an old place, rebuilt a few times, but it has regular customers and a long history.

“My dad’s the third generation… and he’s super strict. It’s a family business passed down to men, so as a kid, I really dreamed of being the next master.”

A legacy carried through three generations.

It’s natural for a kid to admire that.

“But around middle school, his strictness got worse… and I realized I couldn’t keep up.”

I didn’t slack off. I never cut corners.

Sure, I helped less before tests, but that’s normal, and I was serious otherwise.

“It wasn’t just me and Dad in the kitchen. There were other cooks and apprentices. Mistakes I got away with as a kid weren’t forgiven as I got older.”

Back then, everything was excused because I was a kid.

But as I grew, I wasn’t treated the same.

I got scolded every day, and just having Dad around made the air heavy.

I started hiding in my room around that time.

“When I was in ninth grade, I think… I probably wanted to justify my failures. I told Dad, ‘Sticking to old Japanese food won’t keep up with the times. The customers will just keep dropping.’”

It was impulsive. I was tired of being scolded and rebelled.

It was probably my first time fighting back.

“I didn’t really mean it. Deep down, I think our food is amazing. Dad’s cooking has always been my pride… but to hide my failures, I said something awful.”

The moment I said it, I hated myself.

To trash something I loved with words I didn’t mean.

“That’s when Dad slapped me hard for the first time… It hurt, it was sad, and I was angry… Home felt more and more suffocating, so I said I’d live alone when I started high school—and surprisingly, he let me.”

I thought he’d stop me.

Maybe Mom or my sister convinced him behind my back…

“So, the reason I live alone is just because I wanted to escape that heavy air… I like this job because I can work quietly on my own time, but in the end—I just ran away from home…”

Talking about it made me feel pathetic.

So lame.

I wouldn’t care if I told Renji, but with Yukishiro-san, I worried she’d hate me.

Still—

“I don’t know what happened to you, Yukishiro-san… But life has tough moments, right? Some people, like me, run away. Tons of people can’t face things… Still, we somehow keep living. I’m not good with words, but… I like the lively—or maybe a bit spaced-out, natural—you better than the crying, sad Yukishiro-san.”

The Yukishiro-san at school is cool and blank-faced but somehow soft and relaxed.

At home, she’s different—careless, messy, talkative, and sometimes shows an innocent smile. Lately, even clingy or sly expressions…

“Ugh, uhh… waaaaah!”

“W-what… gross!?”

Yukishiro-san, who’d been listening quietly, suddenly started crying again.

She wiped her nose on my clothes without holding back.

“Yukishiro-san…”

I gave up on my clothes.

My hand moved on its own, patting her head.

She’s tall for a woman, but crying and clinging like this, she felt oddly like a little sister.

Maybe because she’s so childish sometimes.

I stayed with her until she stopped crying.