Monday morning arrived with the sun apparently deciding to be an overachiever, flooding the apartment complex with warm golden light that practically demanded productivity from everyone in its path.
Even the sun's being responsible today. Guess I should follow its example.
"Good morning, Tomoko," I called out cheerfully as I stepped into the courtyard, already reaching for a spare broom.
Nothing starts the week better than helping out the most caring person in this building. Plus, it guarantees me access to her incredible breakfast.
"Good morning, Sousuke-kun," she replied with that warm smile that could probably cure seasonal depression. Her charming eyes crinkled at the corners as she watched me grab the cleaning supplies. "You're still getting up this early, I see."
Early? This is practically sleeping in compared to my usual routine. But I'm not about to complain when it means more time with Tomoko-nee.
"When I think about the breakfast Tomoko makes, I get all the motivation I need to drag myself out of bed," I said with complete sincerity.
Not even slightly exaggerating. Her cooking could motivate a hibernating bear to wake up in January.
"My, do you have honey on your lips? They're certainly sweet today," she laughed, clearly pleased by the compliment.
Honey on my lips, huh? Well, if we're talking about sweetness…
"Want to find out for yourself?" I asked with a mischievous grin, taking a deliberately playful step closer to her.
Come on, Tomoko. Just once, let me see what happens when you stop being so proper.
"S-Sousuke-kun… stop… stop teasing me…" she stammered, her cheeks taking on that adorable pink tinge that made her look about ten years younger. "What if someone walks by and sees us?"
The way she unconsciously licked her lips just then suggests she's definitely considering it. If we weren't standing in the middle of the courtyard…
I caught the subtle way her tongue darted across her lower lip, and I had to resist the urge to follow through on my playful threat. The look in her eyes suggested that if we'd been somewhere more private, she might not have protested quite so much.
Mental note: find more opportunities for private conversations with Tomoko. For completely innocent reasons, of course.
With both of us working together, the courtyard cleanup went by in record time. Teamwork really did make everything more efficient.
Plus, watching Tomoko bend over to sweep under the benches is providing some excellent… motivation to keep helping with the morning routine.
"Come and eat, Sousuke-kun," she called as we finished up.
"Well, since Tomoko won't taste what I have to offer," I said with exaggerated disappointment, "I guess I'll just have to taste what she's prepared for me."
That came out way more suggestive than I intended. Not that I'm complaining about the reaction.
"You really are something else…" she laughed, covering her mouth with her hand in that modest gesture that somehow made her seem even more alluring.
Is it my imagination, or did she just shiver slightly? Like her body reacted to some hidden meaning in my words?
The warm sunlight streaming into Tomoko's kitchen created this almost ethereal atmosphere, making her look like some kind of domestic goddess as she moved around preparing our meal. The golden light seemed to give her this maternal glow that was both comforting and incredibly attractive.
She looks like she stepped out of a commercial for perfect home life. How is someone this ideal actually real?
Soon she began bringing out plate after plate of what looked like restaurant-quality food. She was wearing a sleeveless top under her apron, and every time she leaned over to arrange the dishes on the table, I got a spectacular view down her shirt.
The way that soft, pale skin just… bounces slightly when she moves. Focus on the food, Sousuke. Think about salmon. Cold, scaly, definitely-not-bouncing salmon.
The gentle movement was absolutely mesmerizing and doing dangerous things to my appetite—though not necessarily for food.
I haven't had any proper one-on-one time with Tomoko-nee since I figured out that new skill. This definitely needs to be added to my priority list. Can't let those five daily opportunities go to waste.
"Try it, Sousuke-kun," she said, setting down the final dish with obvious pride.
I pressed my palms together in the traditional gesture. "Itadakimasu!"
Time to see if her cooking has gotten even better since the food festival.
The spread before me was incredible: grilled salmon wrapped in foil, mushroom miso soup, and perfectly seasoned rice. The fact that she'd managed to create something this elaborate in the short time since we'd finished cleaning was honestly impressive.
This woman is operating on a completely different level from normal humans.
I carefully pushed aside the aluminum foil around the salmon, and immediately the most amazing aroma wafted up with the steam. Unlike regular pan-fried salmon, this was incredibly fresh and juicy, practically melting in my mouth.
How does she make everything taste like it came from a five-star restaurant?
The miso soup was loaded with enoki mushrooms, king oyster mushrooms, and nameko mushrooms, creating this incredible variety of textures that kept every spoonful interesting. Even the rice was perfect—every grain infused with subtle flavor from the broth, with tender burdock and carrots adding the perfect amount of chewiness.
This is art. Edible, incredible art.
"How is it, Sousuke-kun?" Tomoko asked, though the smugly satisfied expression on her face suggested she already knew the answer.
She knows exactly how good this is. That little proud smile is absolutely adorable.
"It's absolutely perfect, Tomoko," I said with complete honesty.
Ever since that food festival, her skills have reached some kind of next level. I'm starting to think she might actually be magic.
Watching me devour her cooking with obvious enthusiasm seemed to fill her with this deep satisfaction that made her practically glow with happiness.
There's something incredibly intimate about someone taking such pleasure in feeding you well. It's like… caring made edible.
After finishing every last morsel of that incredible breakfast, I headed to school feeling like I could take on the world.
Good food, good company, perfect weather. This Monday is off to an excellent start.
The morning classes were predictably sluggish—students looked like they were still processing the concept that weekend was over, and even the teachers seemed to be operating at half-speed.
Monday morning energy is basically a myth. Everyone's just pretending to be functional until Tuesday.
During lunch break, I made my way up to the rooftop with the usual crew from class. Over the past couple months, various friend groups had basically claimed different territories around the school for their lunch hangouts, and the roof had become our unofficial headquarters.
Nothing beats eating lunch with a view of the entire city. Plus, it's far enough from the teachers that we can actually relax.
"You have a crush on someone? Ugh, that's just unbearable," Okamoto Ryuichi was declaring dramatically to one of our classmates.
Oh no. Okamoto's having another one of his anti-romance rants. This should be entertaining.
"I… I didn't say I have a crush on her," the poor guy protested weakly. "I just care about her a little bit. Maybe… maybe I'm kind of interested in her?"
Dude, you are so obviously head-over-heels. Just embrace it.
"Hey, stop talking, you damned traitor!" Okamoto shouted with the passion of someone whose entire worldview had been challenged.
Traitor? This is escalating quickly.
"What traitor? That makes no sense. How did I betray anyone?" the guy asked, looking genuinely confused.
I'm with him. Since when is having feelings an act of betrayal?
"I thought you wouldn't be deceived by those illusions called youth and love," Okamoto continued his dramatic monologue. "I thought you'd stay with me on the noble path of eternal bachelorhood!"
The noble path of eternal bachelorhood? Who talks like this?
"What eternal bachelorhood? Who told you that was a thing?"
Yeah, seriously. Since when did being single become a religious movement?
"I thought only shallow people like Ginjo would get caught up in romantic relationships," Okamoto declared, somehow managing to drag me into his philosophical crisis.
Wait, what? When did I become the poster child for romantic corruption?
"I never expected that you'd turn out to be one of those ordinary mortals who indulge in foolish concepts like love!"
I was peacefully eating my lunch when suddenly I became the target of this bizarre accusation.
Great. Now I'm apparently the villain in Okamoto's anti-romance crusade. How did that happen?
The conversation suddenly pivoted in my direction, and the guy who'd started this whole mess looked at me like I might have the answers to life's mysteries.
"By the way, Ginjo, how do you win over a girl? Can you teach me some techniques?" he asked earnestly.
Oh no. He wants dating advice from me. This is going to be awkward.
"Well, I wouldn't know since I've never actually pursued anyone," I replied as casually as possible.
Technically true, but probably not the answer he was hoping for.
The response hit the group like I'd just casually mentioned that I could fly. The complex mixture of envy, disbelief, and resentment in their expressions was almost comical.
I can practically hear their internal screaming. Sorry, guys, but it's not like I planned it this way.
But it really was the truth. Ever since I was young, there had always been girls around me somehow. Confessions, love etters, random encounters—it just seemed to happen naturally without any effort on my part.
I never had to learn pickup lines or dating strategies because… well, I never had to pick anyone up. They just sort of appeared.
Okamoto launched into another round of complaints about the corruption of pure masculine ideals or whatever his current obsession was, but I was only half-listening.
His dedication to being dramatically single is honestly impressive. Misguided, but impressive.
That's when my phone buzzed with a LINE notification. I glanced at the screen and felt my good mood take an interesting turn.
Mochizuki? That's… unexpected.
[Mochizuki: Ginjo-san, can I meet you after school?]
Well, this Monday just got a lot more interesting.
What could Mochizuki possibly want to talk about that requires an after-school meeting? This feels like it could go in about different directions, and I'm not sure I'm prepared for any of them.
But then again, when have I ever been prepared for anything that's happened to me recently?