Cooking with Wild Game (LN) - Volume 19 - Chapter 5

Group Performance: Their Diverging Paths

Sometimes I wondered, just what exactly was Asuta Tsurumi to me?

If nothing else, Asuta was definitely a childhood friend who I was stuck with at this point. By which I don’t mean anything more than that we had been close since we were young.

To expand on that a bit, it’s apparently really common to get along well at a young age, but then become distant as you grow older. However, Asuta and I were just as close now as we had been as children.

So just what exactly was our relationship? Sometimes, when we were casually chatting together as we so often did, I couldn’t help but ponder that question. Just what was Asuta Tsurumi to me, Reina Ubukata?

◇

I had been friends with Asuta ever since we were young. In fact, we were so young that I can’t even remember our first meeting clearly. However, we supposedly first became close when we were both three years old.

Though I had no memory of it, I had picked that fact up from the people around us. Between the ages of three and six, the Tsurumi family took care of me for part of each day. That was just how things worked out. The preschools in the area had all been full, so that wasn’t an option. My mom had been reinstated at her old job too, so an ordinary preschool wouldn’t have been enough anyway.

With that being the case, it had seemed like the only option would be to find a daycare a bit further out and enroll me there, but when Asuta’s mother heard my mom grumbling about it, she offered to take me in instead.

Apparently, the two had met in the maternity ward at the hospital. My mom was highly decisive, with a personality that was almost mannish, while Asuta’s mother was incredibly gentle, and perhaps they clicked so oddly well because they were such polar opposites.

At any rate, once they had agreed on that somewhat unusual plan, it had deepened their friendship even further. In later years my friends at school would always be shocked by how irrational my mom had been, but personally, I had no issues with the whole thing, since it meant I got to have this incredibly deep friendship with the Tsurumi family.

On the other hand, you had Asuta’s house. It was connected to the eatery they ran, a place called the Tsurumi Restaurant, and it seemed they’d had no intention of putting him in preschool to begin with, so his childhood was a little out of the ordinary too. But the closest preschool was still a good distance away and hard to get to, plus his mother wanted to spend as much time as possible with her child, so that was that.

Asuta’s mother had apparently said there wasn’t that much of a difference handling one child or two, but later down the line my mom would comment, “There’s no way that’s true. You and Asuta-chan might have both been quiet kids and easy to handle, but doubling the number of children you’re taking care of would absolutely make things more difficult. She was just so strong and kind that she made it look like nothing.”

At any rate, I ended up spending most of my early childhood with Asuta. It was just me, Asuta, and his mother in the Tsurumi living room for over half of most days. Those were all happy memories for me. Asuta had an adorable face like a girl’s, and his build wasn’t all that different from mine, so it always felt perfectly natural, playing with him.

My clearest memory involved plush toys from a certain TV series starring a character with an anpan for a head. Perhaps because of their family business, the Tsurumi house was full of merchandise for the food-themed character. Though it would normally make sense to focus on the hero parts of the original picture books and anime, Asuta and I always used those plushes to run a pretend restaurant instead.

“Here’s your hamburger steak!”

“Thanks! It’s super yummy!”

Characters with katsudon-, onigiri-, and buffet-theming would chow down happily on hamburger steaks and omurice. Looking back on it now, it was actually pretty surreal. But anyway, Asuta and I would have a good time putting on those little shows, and Asuta’s mother always watched over us with a smile.

“This is disgusting! It’s inedible! Get me your manager!” Occasionally, Asuta’s father would come barging in when he was on break and add some chaos to that little world. Those were the only times a heroic battle between good and evil would unfold, with the two of us working together to beat the villain.

Aside from that, I could recall helping to catch the bugs that hung around the small kitchen garden Asuta’s mother kept, sometimes taking trips to the park, and going to the pool during the summer.

When we went out, people mistook us for twins a lot, probably because we had such similar builds. I couldn’t remember how Asuta’s mother responded to questions about that, but we never really took note of them.

Those three happy years passed by in a flash, and the two of us started attending the local elementary school.

I can remember feeling lost at first, faced with this new environment with so many other children, but I adapted easily in a few months. I made plenty of friends I got along with and started having a good time at school. Asuta and I were in separate classes, but he seemed to be doing fine too.

Even so, I didn’t end up growing apart from Asuta. Our houses were in the same neighborhood, so we would go to and from school together, and I played with him more than anyone else after school and on days off. Since we had spent over half of each day together up till then, he was the one I always wanted to have fun with.

But once we started elementary school, Asuta started helping out with the shop because his mother’s health was failing.

It was some sort of illness with a difficult name, and she spent a lot of time in the hospital or sleeping around the house. The Tsurumi Restaurant was doing really well, so they were able to hire part-timers to help out all day, but they still came up shorthanded, which meant Asuta had to pitch in.

Naturally, he just did simple stuff like clearing plates and washing dishes, but that was still quite a bit of work. On Sundays, for example, he could only play for a few hours during the middle of the day and at night. Still, whenever I visited, Asuta looked really happy. And on days when his mother was doing better, we would all have some nice, relaxed fun together.

However, that only lasted for around a year. Early in the summer of our second year of elementary school, just before Asuta’s eighth birthday, his mother passed away. Asuta cried throughout the entire funeral. My mom and I did too.

I felt terrible for Asuta. I had hardly ever seen him cry, so it was hard to watch him wailing like that. His father too. I couldn’t see the man’s tears because he was hanging his head the whole time, though. Just the thought that the two of them would never be able to speak to Asuta’s mother ever again... Whenever I thought back to that day, it was difficult to recall how sad I was too.

Asuta hardly ever smiled for nearly a year after that. And even on the rare occasions that he did, it was never as bright or carefree as it had been before. But in the summer of our third year in elementary school, our families went to the beach together, and he finally seemed to be enjoying himself for the first time in forever. He had really pulled himself back together over the course of the previous year. I can remember even now that I was so overwhelmed with joy when I saw his bright smile again that I started crying and then leaped into the ocean in a fluster.

Our peaceful days continued to roll by and unsurprisingly we both ended up at the local middle school.

This was when the embarrassing period known as puberty hit us, and it naturally became difficult to maintain the sort of relationship we’d had up until that point. Even if it didn’t matter to us, the people around us weren’t so casual about it.

“Hey, you walked home with Tsurumi-kun from the next class over before, didn’t you? Are you two dating?” I was asked.

“No, Asuta-chan’s a childhood friend.”

“Huh? When you’re just childhood friends, you don’t go home together in middle school, though.”

That was how it went.

I didn’t call him just a childhood friend, though, I always thought to myself.

But then, what exactly was my relationship with Asuta? Friends of the opposite sex? Somehow, that just didn’t feel right. The closest feeling was siblings who were the same age, but we weren’t related, so that didn’t fit either. Regardless, Asuta was just as important to me as my actual family. But I couldn’t find the right words to express that.

And so, the distance between us grew a bit.

However, that was just in school. We kept our conversations there to a minimum, and commuted to and from separately. And since calling one another by our first names alone seemed to be a no-no, we started consciously avoiding that. But it was all just because of the unavoidable circumstances we were forced into, and nothing truly changed between the two of us. The proof was that we both still acted the same as always with each other outside of school.

I also started helping out at the Tsurumi Restaurant around then, perhaps because it meant we could spend a bit more time together. Asuta had awakened to the joy of cooking at the age of ten, so he now wanted to help out at the shop regardless of any issues with being shorthanded. I would always lend a hand on either Saturday or Sunday as well, and spend the majority of the day with Asuta. Asuta’s father accepted me without any issues, just the same as always.

During the summer, our families always went to the beach together each year.

My relationship with Asuta continued on, the same as always, with the addition of a feeling shared between the two of us that middle school was a bit of a pain.

Occasionally, I secretly struck back against the world at large. At the end of our first winter in middle school, when Valentine’s rolled around, I made plans to give him hotcakes. Not as any sort of romantic gesture. I just wanted to give them to him, so that was what I was going to do. With my mind made up, I made a foolhardy charge into my house’s kitchen for virtually the first time ever.

However, they didn’t turn out right. Confused, I asked my mother, and she questioned back, “You didn’t mess up with the amounts, did you?”

“Of course I didn’t. I made them just like the instructions said.”

“In that case, you’ve just got no sense for it,” my mother very plainly stated. And then, she brought her face close to mine with an intense look in her eyes. “Let me just say, you were born my child, so there’s something you need to accept. Me, my mother, my mother’s mother, we were all disastrously bad at cooking.”

“What, our whole bloodline is cursed?!”

“That’s why I focused on my job. Fortunately, I met someone who can cook. Your father... Well, like they say, when one door closes, another one opens, so it’s important to know when to give up.”

As if I’ll just give up! I thought to myself as I threw on a scarf and left the house.

At this point, I had no choice but to borrow Asuta’s help. I packed up all the ingredients I had bought for this project into a bag, then hurried over to the Tsurumi house in high spirits.

“Huh? What is it? You’re not scheduled to help out today, are you?”

The Tsurumi Restaurant had just finished up its lunch shift. Valentine’s Day had happened to fall on a Sunday that year, which was why I had figured I had the time to set this whole grand plan of making hotcakes in motion.

“Well, I’m having trouble cooking hotcakes right. Could you take a look and see where I’m going wrong?”

“Hotcakes? You’re seriously making hotcakes?!”

“Is that really how you want to respond?”

“I mean, you always insist that your specialty is eating the food, right?”

“That’s because between you and your dad, I never have a chance to shine,” I retorted, puffing up my cheeks.

“Okay, I get it already,” Asuta replied with a strained grin. In the past he always wore the same cheery, adorable smile, but as the years went by my childhood friend had become a little more cheeky and had a lot more expressions to show off. “Still, I’ve never made them myself, so I don’t know if I’ll be any help.”

“It’ll be fine. Look, the instructions are written on the package.”

“So how did you screw up, then?”

“I don’t know! That’s what I came to ask you!”

“Okay, okay. You’re fine using the home kitchen, right?”

Asuta wiped his hands on his apron, and together we headed into the back of the shop. After passing through a sliding door hidden behind a large clothing rack, we entered the Tsurumi house’s living room.

Asuta’s father was sitting there looking rather slovenly as he watched television, but when he saw me his eyes shot open wide. “Huh? What’re you doing here, Reina-chan? Were you scheduled to help out today?”

“No, I came to cook some hotcakes.”

“Ooh, hotcakes? It’s been decades since I’ve had those.”

“Huh? But I thought you weren’t fond of sweets,” I said.

“There’s no such thing as a food I won’t eat! Even balut or casu marzu, I’ll try it all!” He puffed out his chest with a big grin. No matter how old he got, Asuta’s father always did have a childish side to him.

“Okay, then how about I give it a try?” Asuta said.

I couldn’t have that. “Ah, hold on! There’s no point if you make them, Asuta-chan! I’ll do the cooking, you just tell me where I’m going wrong.”

“Huh? Well, I don’t mind if you do, but don’t burn down the house, okay?”

After giving my childhood friend a smack upside the head for going out of his way to annoy me, I got to work.

“So...first you add the egg and milk to the bowl and mix well,” he read off the box.

“Yeah. One egg and 140 milliliters of milk, right? I’ve read it so many times I have it memorized.”

“Whoa, you even brought along the eggs and milk? Okay, so, next you add the hotcake mix, and mix well until the lumps are gone. After that, you just have to cook them. It sure is a simple recipe.”

“Yeah... So how do they end up so tasty? There must be some sort of secret to the hotcake mix, right?”

“Nah, it’s just flour, sugar, baking powder, and some salt for flavor. Add an egg and some milk, and it’s only natural that they would taste good,” Asuta’s father chimed in.

Asuta turned back toward the living room with a look of suspicion. “You sure are knowledgeable for someone who hasn’t had any in decades.”

“Hmm? Nah, that was just a shot in the dark. Making sweets isn’t my field of expertise, so don’t take it so seriously.”

Out of curiosity, we checked the ingredients listed on the package, and the only things it had in it aside from what Asuta’s father had mentioned were seasonings and coloring agents.

“It’s stuff like this that really gets to me...” Asuta muttered with a sulky look.

Chuckling at his comment, I went ahead and added the batter to the now-heated frying pan.

After three minutes had passed, air bubbles started rising to the surface, so I carefully flipped the cake over. The edge that had been up against the frying pan now had a nice brown color to it.

“Huh? It looks like it’s going just fine...”

“I don’t see how you could screw it up, honestly.”

“But when I made them at home, they got all burnt and black.”

“Did you fall asleep or something while you were cooking them?”

Had my concentration been the issue? Or maybe I really did screw up the amount of milk or something. When I flipped it onto the plate after three more minutes like the instructions said, it was a perfectly fine hotcake, no matter how I looked at it.

“There’s still a chance it could be half-cooked, though,” I remarked, borrowing a fork and taking a bite. The simple taste of a hotcake with no syrup filled my mouth.

I had succeeded just fine.

“Let me see...” Asuta stated as he reached out, only for me to slap the back of his hand.

“You can’t, Asuta-chan! I’m fine on my own now, so go take it easy with your dad.”

“What, I don’t get any reward for helping out?” he grumbled as he headed back into the living room.

Tch! If this was how things were going to turn out, then I wish I could have just made them at home and surprised him.

I needed to present the finished results before the Tsurumi Restaurant reopened for business. I made enough hotcakes for two people with the remaining mix, decorated with whipped cream and chocolate sauce. I figured they could add the maple syrup based on their own preferences. I borrowed some plates, and loaded them up with the hotcakes.

“Sorry for the wait! They’re all done!”

I placed the plates on top of the tea table in the living room. The father and son, who didn’t look all that alike, both stared up at me in surprise.

“This is amazing. You seriously nailed it. So, can we eat them?” Asuta asked.

“Yeah, that’s why I made them. Dig in.”

“It’s not even my birthday, so I feel sorta guilty somehow.”

Neither Asuta nor his father were able to hide their bewilderment. They seemed to have no idea why an old friend like me would suddenly stop by and offer hotcakes.

“Um, just to be clear, let me say that today is Valentine’s Day.”

Instantly, a look of shock ran across their faces.

“D-Dad, it looks like it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Hmm... I’m a Buddhist, so I don’t know anything about that. Does it have something to do with the Van Allen belts?”

“I don’t really know what that is, but I don’t think so.”

“I see. Well, those’re more of a doughnut shape than a hotcake one anyway.”

“That’s enough of the father-and-son comedy routine... Go ahead and eat them while they’re still warm, please.”

“Thanks for the food,” they said in unison.

“That’s tasty! I never knew hotcakes were this good!”

“Yup! This is delicious! I’ve still got a few hours of work left, but I’d love to have some alcohol to go with it.”

“What’s up with your sense of taste...? You’d want black tea or coffee to go with this, right?”

“We don’t have any here at the house anyway. Though I guess we could try some roasted green tea.”

With Asuta and his father raving about how good they were, the hotcakes vanished in a flash. It felt strange somehow, having such skilled chefs look so happy with something I had made. I added some syrup over the now-cooled hotcake I had made first, and it was really tasty too.

“That was good! You know, now that I think about it, this might be the first time I’ve actually had hotcakes.”

“Huh?! Are you serious, Asuta-chan?”

“Yeah. My mom liked Japanese-style sweets, and I never really got into the habit of eating sweet stuff she didn’t make.” Then, Asuta looked right at me and with the sort of bright smile he used to wear as a little kid. “It was as tasty as the rice flour dango and warabi mochi she used to make. Thanks, Reina.”

I couldn’t help but think that if Valentine’s Day let me see him smile like that, maybe it wasn’t so bad.

From that day forward, I started making stuff like cakes and cookies for birthdays and Christmas, and at least when it came to sweets, I managed to overcome the curse of the Ubukata bloodline. However, I had no intention of telling my friends at school about any of that. I didn’t want them giving me chilly looks about it, after all. I considered it an act of rebellion against the established order, but it was something I ultimately kept private.

School’s fun, but this stuff can be a real pain.

There was just one thing I knew for certain: the feelings I had for Asuta couldn’t possibly be romantic.

The years kept on rolling by after that, and Asuta grew like a weed. Still, compared to the other boys our age, he didn’t have an especially strong build. In contrast, my own growth had come to a complete stop, and at some point he ended up about a head taller than me.

When we were in the third year of middle school and he was fifteen, his appearance steadily grew more manly. He had a gentle face that he got from his mother, and didn’t do sports or anything like that either, so he wasn’t too masculine. But sure enough, he was a man, and I was a woman.

But still, I knew that I could never have romantic feelings toward this precious childhood friend of mine.

Asuta was just as important to me as family. I wanted him to become a fine chef and live a happy life. If I had to say, it felt more like affection for a brother, and all I wanted was to keep watching over him.

“Oh, Asuta-chan.”

I happened to run into Asuta one day on the way home in the winter of our third year in middle school, at the school’s entrance.

Though I had slipped up and called him by his first name, fortunately nobody I knew was around at the time.

“It’s rare to see you here at this time of day. What’s going on?”

“Hmm? I was just talking to some people from class. The shop’s closed for the day, so I figured it would be good to use the time for some socializing.”

“Whoa, that sounded all businesslike, somehow!”

“Yeah, I’m a cold-blooded person by nature.”

That was just us joking around. Asuta was pretty much always working the shop after school and on days off, so he didn’t have many opportunities to connect with his classmates. However, he was rather sociable, so his school life was just as calm and peaceful as mine.

He was more stubborn than you might think from looking at him, and could get all worked up or hurt from talking to people, so I wouldn’t really call him any kind of social expert in the truest sense. But thanks to his natural positivity and friendliness, he got by just fine.

Asuta was probably more fond of people in general than most. He knew very well how much happiness people got from the love of others. And he knew the pain and sadness of losing that love too. It made him incredibly kind, and though he was a dummy who didn’t think about anything but cooking, he valued his connections with others.

“Hey, how about we head home together every now and then?” I suggested.

“Yeah, sure. We’re going the same way, so it’s only natural.”

And so, we passed through the school’s gate side by side.

Later, we would start doing this a couple times each month. Since we normally maintained an appropriate distance to avoid getting teased, I figured we could get away with at least this much.

“Ugh, it’s been getting colder,” Asuta said.

“True. I couldn’t manage without hand warmers.”

“Huh? You’ve been wimping out and using that stuff?”

“Of course I have. Us girls are more sensitive to the cold, you know,” I replied, pulling one of my hands out of my pocket with the disposable hand warmer I had been holding. “Want to share?”

“Hmm... Nah, I’m good. I’m not that sensitive to cold.”

“Okay.”

I secretly thought to myself that if this were a romantic comedy manga or drama, we would have ended up holding hands at this point.

“There are three months left till graduation, right?” I said.

“Yeah, but there are entrance exams before that.”

“Ugh, I hate hearing that term.”

“It should be easy for you. You’re smart.”

“Not that smart. I just work really hard all the time. I was studying all day today in the library, you know.”

Asuta had no response to that.

“You’re the smart one here, aren’t you, Asuta-chan? You’re trying to take a public school entrance exam without any test preparation.”

“That’s more what I’d call fighting with your back against the wall...”

“Well, I guess a chef may not have much use for stuff like academic credentials. But your dad said he could hire a new part-timer, so why don’t you just take him up on it for now at least?”

“It’s got nothing to do with how busy the shop is. I just don’t want to have less time to spend in the kitchen.” As I glanced sideways over at Asuta’s face, I found he looked a bit angry. “Besides, my old man decided all on his own that I should continue with my schooling. I didn’t even want to go to high school since I was planning on taking over the shop anyway.”

“He’s thinking it would be good for you to have lots of options for the future, isn’t he? I can’t say he’s wrong about that,” I told him, then adding, “Still, I can’t imagine you working anywhere but the Tsurumi Restaurant.”

“Right? It’s not like there’s anything wrong with having your life figured out by your third year in middle school, is there?” Asuta had a really childish look on his face at this point. Though his cheeks had slimmed a bit and his nose and jawline were getting a little sharper, making him appear to be a lot more mature, he looked like he was a kid again right now.

“Sounds like you really don’t want to go. But if you’re going to end up working in the Tsurumi Restaurant anyway, then spending three years in high school shouldn’t be such a big deal, right? It’s not like the shop is going anywhere.”

“But once you pass twenty, your brain cells start steadily dying off, don’t they? So I want to study cooking as much as possible while my brain’s at its best,” Asuta said with a deep sigh. “I wouldn’t have any problem with it if I was told to go to school when I hit thirty or forty instead.”

His face was so tense and serious that I couldn’t stop myself from laughing.

“You’d already be a great chef by that point, right? What would the point be in going to school then?”

“Maybe, but still...”

“You say some pretty crazy stuff sometimes, Asuta-chan,” I remarked, chuckling for a while, but then I sighed. “Still, I guess we’ll finally be separated after we graduate middle school.”

“Hmm? It’s not like we interact a whole lot at school anyway, so I figure it won’t make that much of a difference.”

“You think? I’d say it’s a pretty big deal, going to different schools. I mean, we’ve been raised in the same environment for twelve years now, since we were three.”

It wasn’t even five in the afternoon yet, but the light was already growing dim. The December sky was overcast and gloomy, and it looked like it might start snowing. Maybe because this was such an in-between time of day, there were only a few people along the path to school, and they all looked like nothing but dark gray silhouettes from where we were walking.

Feeling strangely emotional, I stared up at Asuta’s face and asked, “Hey, just what exactly are we?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“We’ve been together for twelve years and we’re so close to each other’s families that we’re practically family ourselves... But we aren’t, right? So what exactly do you call this relationship?”

“Well...you’re my childhood friend, right?”

“Just childhood friends?”

“I wouldn’t say we’re ‘just’ friends any more than I’d say we’re ‘unjust’ friends,” Asuta quipped, scratching his head. “But I mean...you’re Reina.”

“That’s not really an answer, is it?”

“I can’t help it. I can’t think of any other way to explain what I mean,” Asuta said, furrowing his brow. Just as I was starting to have some slight regrets and worrying about whether I shouldn’t have brought this up, though, he continued, “Besides, it’s not like we’re going to be able to stay like this forever. Even if we get into the same high school, you’re sure to go on to college while I’ll be working at the Tsurumi Restaurant. Then you’ll find a job at some company, and if things go well you’ll get married and have kids, and you’ll have your hands full with your own life.”

“Yeah...”

“And if you and your hubby move overseas, we might never meet again. But you’ll still be my childhood friend Reina. It’s not like our childhood memories will disappear, after all.”

“H-Hey, aren’t you jumping ahead a bit too far there? I’ve got no plans of moving overseas right now.”

“I just went for the most extreme example so it’d be easier to understand. You’ve got a lot of hard work ahead of you to find a husband before you get to that point.”

I gave him a smack on the back of his head for that remark. But somehow, I felt a warmth filling me up inside.

“Right. No matter how far apart we may be, you’ll still be Asuta-chan, huh?”

“Yeah, and those memories wouldn’t disappear even if I wanted them too.”

“You want to get rid of them?! I’m hurt!”

“Of course not, you dummy.” It seemed like Asuta was embarrassed for some reason. Had my emotional state infected him at some point?

Thinking about how if we were in a romantic comedy, then this would be the part where I’d wrap my arm around his, I started to smile.

“It’d be great if you could get lucky and find someone to marry too. Right, Asuta-chan?”

“Hmm. That sounds like it’ll be a lot of hard work too.”

“That’s not true at all. Sure, you’ve got this half-baked balance between manliness and cuteness, but if you managed to shake off one side or the other, the girls would probably be all over you.”

“Don’t go analyzing me! It hits a lot harder when it comes from my childhood friend!”

“Heh heh. I can’t imagine there being a girl out there who knows you better than I do, at least for now.”

Asuta scratched his head again, but maybe because it was so cold out, he soon stowed his hand back in his pocket. “This time of year sucks when you hate wearing gloves.”

It seemed that all the water he got on his hands while doing his job was pretty rough on them, so Asuta was always treating them with skin cream. But because of that, he said wearing gloves felt gross, and he remained barehanded even in the dead of winter.

I shoved a piping hot hand warmer into the coat pocket where his hand was now residing. “Allow me to share with my dear childhood friend,” I said.

“Your kindness tends to come at a steep price, though...”

“Yup. I think I’ll ask for some fillet tonkatsu.”

“That’s a really steep price!”

“I’m craving one of your hot meals. How about you treat me to one, and in exchange I’ll help you study?”

“If you drop the unpleasant repayment, then I suppose I could feed you...”

“Okay, let’s hurry back!”

Our paths were sure to diverge someday. However, this memory would last forever.

Holding onto that one final emotional thought, I, Reina Ubukata, walked side by side with my precious childhood friend on that December day at dusk.