Short Story I: The Man I Hold Dear

It was a clear morning, and it’s been weeks since Ayase started going to school.

The early sun gazed through the windows, adorning the cleanliness Ayase brought in the apartment. At first it was like a slaughterhouse, a mess of unorganized stuff, just as what is expected from a boy who purged his social life.

Her room door creaked open, and a faint ring of an alarm clock came from it.

Ayase stepped out of her room, already dressed in her Komorebi High uniform. She tugged at the edge of her sleeve, smoothing out any wrinkles before glancing around the tidy apartment.

Her masterpiece was evident.

Spotless floors, organized kitchen and the sweet scent of aerosol. The overused and rotten airconditioner stood polished, and wasn’t even needed due to renewed ambiance from the breeze outside.

Her gaze shifted to the living room couch.

Or more precisely, the figure wrapped in a black blanket on it.

Haruki.

Like a butterfly stubbornly refusing to emerge from its cocoon, he was completely bundled up, only the top of his black messy hair peeking out.

“Good morning, Ishida-san.” She gently greeted him.

No response.

She just casted a cutesy smile across a distance, as if she has already seen this unfold a hundred times.

Ayase instead turned to the kitchen and started to wash her hands gracefully.

A few clanks of utensils after, she was already in her red apron and the ingredients for breakfast were ready—eggs, rice and miso soup mix. For months, this was her routine. And even years before that.

The large egg was cracked in half precisely, and the yolk danced in the bowl.

Her neat and slender fingers laced the whisk like a conductor’s baton. Simmering, stirring and turning all while keeping her cheerful smile.

The frying pan's butter hissed lightly, ready to help in making another masterpiece.

Ayase hummed smoothly, almost a musical arising from the kitchen.

After dicing onions, the mixture was finally on the pan. The wild roar of frying was never an enemy to Ayase. She even leaned in to capture the savory scent, and everything there finally hardened to a pale gold.

The moment of truth arrived. With a practiced flick of the wrist, Ayase tilted the pan, guiding the thin layer of egg towards the edge. It slid smoothly, a perfect, unbroken sheet.

Holding her breath, she carefully poured the rice mixed with ketchup onto the center. The folding required a delicate touch, a balance between speed and precision. One wrong move and the fragile cover could tear, ruining what took years of practice to perfect.

Finishing the omurice, Ayase can't help but smile—she never broke a sweat. This was her masterpiece, a creation that managed to soothe her anxieties, especially that the one she will share it with will have a huge space in her heart.

That one seamless, but internally messed-up guy that always tried to be independent, and always saved her despite the odds.

That one single person that showed her the lengths of human kindness. The living proof that what she felt before was all real.

Her hope against Allain, and her fight against the world.

Everything that Haru told her swirled around, and that was the only voice she could hear right now.

"What am I doing?" she mumbled, caressing the mounds of her cheeks.

She didn't notice that she had been staring at the omurice for so long, and her ears were burning red.

And the whistling of the casserole—that really broke the trance.

"W-w-wait...the miso!"

Ayase gasped out, quickly grabbing the ladle and lifting the cover.

But seeing the dashi, tofu and green onions are still fine, she exhaled a long and moving sigh.

After a taste, she prepared two bowls—one for her and the rest for Haru. After a short moment, she went back to the living room after hearing another alarm going off.

It was Haru's, an hour late from hers.

Despite the chaotic choice of ringtone, he still hasn't moved a millimeter, and the blanket was still wrapped to his head and his hair still sticking out from the edge. He looked utterly serene and still.

"Good morning, Ishida-san. Breakfast's ready."

The alarm continued blaring, and Ayase couldn't help but to sigh again while holding the ladle.

"Five more minutes..." he managed to mumble beneath the covers.

"Okay, five more minutes." she cheerfully responded.

She reset the alarm, and sat beside Haru on the sofa, patiently waiting for it to trigger once more.

Five minutes later, it's the deja vu from earlier. The same five more minutes.

But Ayase puffed her cheeks in protest, and she gently picked up the alarm clock and rang it next to Haru's ear.

Haru immediately jumped out of the sofa, and screamed. "Okay! I'm up! Geez! You're too relentless!"

He also startled Ayase who almost fell off the couch. She chuckled at Haru's reaction, "I'm sorry! I just don't want you to be late!"

"You know I'm like this when I sleep late at night, don't you?" Haru grumbled as he rubbed his face.

Ayase nodded softly, "Yes, I do. But I was too excited to serve our breakfast! If you didn't wake up when I did that..."

She trailed off, biting her lips and averted away. Her cheeks sprung crimson, and her hands laid flat on her hips.

"...I don't mind giving you a hug or a kiss as a final resort..." she mumbled.

Haru froze, his mouth left wide open.

He realized how Ayase became straightforward about her feelings lately, making his face heat up.

Haru laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head. "It's too early for jokes, what have you prepared?"

Ayase smiled brightly, pulling him by his arm. "Follow me!"

She led them to the dining table, where a pair of bowls full of miso sat on top. "I made a lot!"

As soon as they stepped into the kitchen, Haru was bombarded with the aroma of omurice and miso soup.

And he can't even describe the happiness of waking up to this everyday. Having a caring and beautiful girl by his side, cooking his favorite meals. Being catered by someone that actually cares about him deeply, and who doesn't deny him just as much.

It was too good of a feeling to let slip into his subconscious thoughts. So, he decided to indulge, for some reason.

And Ayase's homecooked miso and omurice were glorious as ever.

For others, it was just another weekday morning. But in Haru's apartment, everyday was something special. Something he treasured the most.