Chapter 4 - A Chance Encounter
“Ah.”
Amane heard a beautiful voice ring out like a bell from behind him.
Recently, he’d grown accustomed to hearing that voice, but only around his apartment building. Now he heard it while he was standing in the sweets aisle at the neighborhood supermarket.
Amane had never expected Mahiru to acknowledge him in public, so he turned around with some bewilderment to see her standing there, eyes wide.
A supermarket basket hung from her arm, and inside it sat a daikon radish and some tofu, as well as a package of chicken thighs and a carton of milk. These were likely the ingredients for her dinner tonight.
This was nothing special. Amane had coincidentally stopped by the candy aisle at the same time. That was all.
“Just so you know, this is merely a coincidence,” Amane asserted. “It’s not like I’m stalking you or anything.”
“I know, I know.” Mahiru nodded. “We’re both just here because it’s the closest supermarket.” Before Amane had a chance to agree, he heard the girl mutter, “Really, though, that’s the first thing that came to mind…?” She stared down at a notebook that she was carrying.
It was just like the meticulous Mahiru to dutifully record everything she needed. Ignoring Amane in favor of her flower-patterned notebook, Mahiru brushed past the sweets and began searching the condiments on display in the next aisle.
Something about Mahiru searching the shelves for kitchen staples and murmuring things like soy sauce and mirin in her lovely voice seemed cute to Amane. It was clear that the girl was in a strange kind of mood, however.
“Mirin is right here. Look,” Amane said, pointing it out.
“Ah, not that—I’m looking for the low-alcohol kind. I can’t buy that, since I’m underage,” Mahiru replied.
“This is considered alcohol?”
“Mirin is sweet rice wine, after all. The ones that are specifically for cooking still have alcohol, but they add in salt to make it gross to drink, so even underage people can buy it.”
Amane had been about to hand her a bottle of mirin when she suddenly refused it, shook her head, and instead placed the low-alcohol alternative in her basket.
“Learn something every day…” This was all new to Amane, who did so little housework that even these simple tidbits seemed revelatory. He watched Mahiru as she moved quickly on down the aisle, stopping in front of a shelf full of soy sauce.
Mahiru frowned, as if she had only just noticed the price labels. “…Bargain price, limit one bottle per person…” She had apparently been intending to buy a spare. Mahiru grumbled in disappointment and turned to glance at Amane.
“Maybe…I could buy one, too?” Amane quickly sensed what Mahiru had been trying to convey with her eyes, and with a wry smile, he picked up a bottle of soy sauce. When he did, her lips formed a satisfied arch.
“It’s helpful to have someone who understands,” she said.
“…You’re more economical than I expected,” Amane commented.
“Well, I don’t see why I shouldn’t find the best prices when I can. Cut down on needless expense, right?”
“I wonder if that’s what they call a thrifty mentality. Well, as long as you’re living on an allowance from your parents, I guess that’s for the best.”
Amane may have technically lived alone, but in reality, his parents still supported him. His family was fairly rich, and they covered the rent of his clean, safe apartment, took care of his school fees, and provided him with a more-than-fair allowance. Amane had never had to worry about his expenses, but he was grateful for everything his parents did for him, so he tried not to waste money.
“…That’s right. We depend on their support, so it’s important to be frugal,” Mahiru replied matter-of-factly, taking stock of the contents of her basket. Her voice was cold, like something had stolen away her warmth.
Amane flinched at Mahiru’s flat tone, but when she looked up from her groceries, her expression had returned to normal. The gloomy eyes he’d seen in that brief moment were already gone.
“…Anyway, are you really buying that?” Mahiru asked, as if to change the subject, looking at the packs of instant rice and the container of potato salad that were in the basket that Amane was holding.
The meals that Mahiru was sharing with him were, of course, delicious, but they weren’t enough on their own. To compensate, Amane would pick up a staple food and side salad like he’d done today.
“I mean, it’s dinner,” Amane explained.
“It’s unhealthy,” Mahiru shot back.
“You’re so fussy. I’m buying a salad, aren’t I?”
“A potato salad… How is your body still functioning?”
“Mind your own business.”
Mahiru put wordless pressure on him, scrutinizing him with eyes that reproached him and told him to eat more vegetables. Amane turned away and let Mahiru go ahead of him.
Chatting about this and that, the two bought their respective things. Amane had started to pack his purchases into a plastic bag, but Mahiru produced a reusable bag she’d brought and quickly put everything into it.
She was truly an environmentally conscious angel.
Mahiru had only brought the one bag, however, and Amane was a little anxious that the quantity of groceries was too much for it.
With the milk, soy sauce, and low-alcohol cooking mirin, that was four liters of liquid altogether, and if they weighed anything like water, that meant four kilograms right there. There was still the whole daikon radish and the other ingredients to consider, too. The bag had to be really heavy. Everything was packed in quite neatly, but still, it would surely be hard work carrying it all the way back to Amane and Mahiru’s building.
She’s been cooking for me, so she must be going through more seasonings and ingredients than she normally does.
She’s gotta be making a lot in order to split the dishes with me. The amount she gives me is always nearly a whole meal’s worth. Mahiru says it’s all just extra, but she must be making a lot of food on purpose.
After Mahiru had gone through so much trouble to take care of Amane, it’d wound his pride if he didn’t do anything to help her out now.
As soon as Mahiru finished packing the reusable bag, Amane took hold of the handles and lifted it. It wasn’t all that heavy to him, of course, but he could tell that it would definitely be difficult for her to carry for very long.
Mahiru may have been really good at sports, but pure arm strength was an entirely different matter. Surely, Amane thought, his eyes tracing her slim figure under her clothing, surely there was no way that her slender arms could command the power needed to lift these heavy groceries.
Caramel-colored eyes blinked rapidly. Mahiru looked surprised—or maybe a little concerned.
“…I’m not stealing it or anything,” Amane said in his defense.
“I’m not worried about that,” Mahiru replied. “It’s just…I can carry my own bags, you know?”
“It’d be more charming if you’d be quiet and let me take care of you for a change,” quipped Amane.
“That’s basically saying I’m not charming,” Mahiru answered flatly.
“Well, think about how you act at school, then compare that to how you act toward me.”
Mahiru took a step back. Maybe Amane had unknowingly hit a nerve. The version of herself that she showed at school—the kind, gentle, modest girl everyone was familiar with—that was not the person Amane knew. Yes, Mahiru was always kind to him, but she was also far more direct. She never sugarcoated anything or hid behind niceties. Everything she said to him was brief and frank.
Amane took advantage of Mahiru’s stunned silence and briskly sauntered off toward the supermarket exit, holding his schoolbag in one hand and the reusable shopping bag stuffed with groceries in the other. He was leaving her behind, but he didn’t care. Unconcerned, he continued on as the gap between them grew wider. He didn’t slow down or give her a chance to catch up.
They had already been standing next to each other in the supermarket, after all. If they walked side by side on the way home and somebody saw them, that could start rumors.
So really, this kind of distance was best for both of them.
Amane hurried on with his heavy burden while pretending not to be aware of Mahiru.
As he strode along, he thought he heard someone mutter “Thanks” behind him.
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