When I Started Doing Housework For The Cool Beauty In My Class, She Began Asking Me About The Dinner Menu Every Day. - Chapter 5: The Omelette Rice that Started It All.

The Omelette Rice that Started It All.

I borrowed the kitchen and decided to make an omurice and a consommé soup to use up the leftover onions—plus, I’d throw in some cabbage for the soup.

The kitchen is equipped with decent cooking tools, all in pristine condition. It’s not because they’re well-maintained but because they’ve barely been used—that much is clear at a glance.

Soup is straightforward—just throw in the ingredients and let it simmer until the cabbage softens. I set the pot on the stove to quietly bubble away while I focused on making the omurice.

Fujisaki, make sure you cook the vegetables properly this time, but don’t burn them.

With that thought, I started making the chicken rice.

(Wait… did Fujisaki even season hers?)

Her version only tasted like ketchup, so she probably skipped seasoning with salt and pepper—or maybe she didn’t taste-test it at all. If she had, there’s no way she’d confidently pass that off as “just a little mistake.”

“Alright, this is nicely done.”

I quickly prepared the chicken rice, shaped it on a plate, and moved on to the star of the dish—cracking and whisking the eggs.

This time, I decided to go all out and make the “popping open” version. A small apology for the mess earlier—or maybe penance for requesting omurice in the first place.

Honestly, omurice is a relatively simple dish for me. I thought I’d chosen something easy, but it was too ambitious for Fujisaki. I should’ve suggested something simpler, like tamago kake gohan (raw egg over rice). I regret that now.

As I melted butter in the pan and poured in the beaten eggs, I stirred them with chopsticks, folding the edges inward to cook evenly.

Once it started setting, it was the critical moment. Messing up here would ruin the appearance, but the eggs were in great shape, so I was confident. I tapped the handle of the pan to adjust the position and shape of the omelet, then flipped it skillfully.

Perfect. A proper omelet, just as it should be. This smooth, golden surface is far removed from Fujisaki’s dark creation.

Carefully placing the fluffy, slightly runny omelet over the shaped chicken rice, I decided to leave the final touch to Fujisaki.

“Here you go. All set.”

“Wow, that was quick… and it looks amazing! Wait, is this the kind that opens up!?”

“Yep. I figured I’d let you do the honors. Just make a shallow cut in the center—don’t slice it all the way through.”

“Like… this?”

With a mix of excitement and caution, Fujisaki used the knife to make a small incision at the center of the omelet.

The omelet opened gracefully, its soft, golden interior spilling out and enveloping the chicken rice beneath.

“Wowww! This is amazing! You’re incredible, Shirayanagi-kun—are you some kind of genius?”

“Well, for something like this, sure.”

Being showered with compliments through pure, sparkling eyes felt a bit embarrassing, but seeing Fujisaki so happy made it all worth it.

“I’ll ladle out some soup, so go ahead and eat before it gets cold.”

“Wait, there’s soup too?”

“Just a quick consommé I threw together.”

“You made this in such a short time… You’re amazing. Um, then I’ll dig in, okay?”

“There’s more soup and chicken rice, so let me know if you want seconds.”

“Okay! Thanks for the meal. Wow, this is so good! What is this!? You could open a restaurant! I’d come every day!”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not exaggerating~. It’s really delicious!”

Fujisaki beamed with joy, her cheeks lifting as she took big bites of the omurice, praising it with every mouthful.

To be honest, this was my first time cooking for someone outside of my family, but seeing someone enjoy the food so much was incredibly rewarding.

“The soup is so tasty too. I could drink this every day~.”

“You’d get tired of consommé soup every day.”

“No way! If it’s this good, I’d happily have it daily!”

She really was showering me with praise.

In the end, I ended up doing all the cooking myself, but I was genuinely glad to share the meal. While I didn’t get to enjoy a homemade dish from Fujisaki, seeing her so delighted made it all worthwhile.

“Can I have seconds?”

“Which one?”

“Both!”

“Alright, alright. Hang tight for a bit.”

She sure could eat.

Finishing the omurice and soup so quickly, and already asking for more…

Alright then, for the next round, maybe I’ll try making a dressed omurice.

***

“I’m so full~. Thank you for the meal; it was absolutely delicious!”

“Glad to hear it. It was nothing special.”

After ensuring Fujisaki had eaten to her heart’s content, I finished cleaning up and finally took a moment to relax.
Fujisaki sprawled lazily on the sofa, rubbing her stomach in satisfaction—a sight that left me unsure of where to direct my gaze.

But now that dinner’s over… it’s time for me to head home.
Looking back, I ended up not only making dinner but also handling cleaning, laundry, shopping, and cooking—it was practically a full-service housework gig.

“Well, I guess it’s about time for me to take my leave.”

“Oh, right. It’s already so late, huh? It feels like the day flew by.”

I’d spent almost half a day with Fujisaki, and indeed, it had flown by.
Most of the time went into cleaning, but in hindsight, I had fun… Well, calling cleaning fun, especially after unearthing her undergarments, might come off as creepy. Let’s scratch that.

“Anyway, now that your place is clean, do your best to keep it that way. If it does get messy again, make sure to call a housekeeping service before it turns into a disaster like today.”

“…If that happens, could I ask for your help again instead?”

“Huh? Oh, well… you’re a girl, so it’d be better to hire a proper service.”

“Oh… yeah, I guess you’re right.”

A professional housekeeping service would probably offer clear pricing and even allow you to request female staff, which would likely make dealing with personal items like undergarments less uncomfortable.
It would also eliminate the risks of inviting a man into your home.

Besides, this time was more of a one-off gig for me.
It was my mom who introduced me to this job since I’m perpetually broke. The payment goes through her, so I have no idea how much she arranged for or how clear the financial details are.

If Fujisaki plans to regularly use housekeeping services in the future, it’s better for her to opt for something with clear-cut terms.

“Well, if it’s just helping out a bit as a friend—not as part of some official service—I wouldn’t mind lending a hand.”

“Huh…?”

“Ah, wait… calling us friends after just half a day probably sounds presumptuous and creepy, huh?”

“No, not at all! We’re definitely friends already!”

“Glad to hear that.”

If she had thought I was some cringey guy acting overly familiar after just half a day, the embarrassment might have left me bedridden for three days straight.

But well, that’s how it is.
If it’s as a casual favor between friends—without any obligations or professional context—then I wouldn’t mind helping out once in a while.

But only occasionally, alright?
If she starts asking me to clean up at today’s level every two weeks, I might lose my patience. In that case, she’ll just have to aim for a new personal best in maintaining a walkable floor space.

“Okay, if I ever find myself in a pinch, I’ll ask for your help, Shirayanagi-kun.”

“Sure. But do your best not to need it in the first place.”

“Got it. Well then… see you at school.”

“Yeah, see you.”

With that, Fujisaki sent me off, and I left her house behind.
Perhaps the greatest reward of today was getting to see a side of Fujisaki that she doesn’t show at school—a side of her I hadn’t seen before.