Keeping the promise to Miyagi that I made yesterday is the easy part.
Itâs no big deal to cook dinner.
But I canât decide on a menu.
I go around and around in the supermarket.
Miyagi said I could make whatever I wanted, but there was no menu that came to mind quickly.
ãWhat should I do?ã
Pork, beef, chicken.
Staring at the meat lined up in a row in the meat section.
I donât think itâs something that seriously bothers me.
Perhaps it only means as much as whatever I like. So I guess it doesnât matter what I make, but I am worried because there is no point in making something that Miyagi wonât eat. Although I must have spent a fair amount of time with her, I still donât know what I like and what I donât like about Miyagi.
The first time I cooked dinner at Miyagiâs house, I made karaage.
At that time, I hardly thought about Miyagiâs tastes, so I was able to decide on the menu without much trouble.
ãItâs karaage, then?ã
It is a safe menu item because Miyagi has eaten it in the past, saying it was delicious.
I recall a few more.
That day I let Miyagi cut the cabbage and she cut her finger and ended up licking her blood. Miyagi really makes me do all kinds of weird things. No one has tried to make me lick blood since then. Only Miyagi would make me do something like that.
Exhaling, I turn my thoughts back to the dinner menu.
Come to think of it, I had been served retort hamburgers several times at Miyagiâs house. It wasnât just one time, so I guess I like it for what it is.
I put the ground beef in my basket from the meat on the sales floor. Then I go around the supermarket, add onions and breadcrumbs, and take out my phone. In my mind, the ingredients for hamburgers are pretty vague. I felt like something was missing, so I checked the recipe and found that I was still missing a few things, so I put milk and nutmeg in the basket. The eggs are in the fridge, so I donât buy them and pay for them at the register.
When I returned home, I found Miyagiâs shoes at the door. But since Iâm not in the common area, I told her Iâm going to make hamburgers through the door in front of her room.
I put everything but the onions in the fridge and put the cutting board and knife on the cooking table. Then chop and saute the onion.
I put the ground meat in a bowl and knead while chilling the bottom in ice water. Add salt, pepper, nutmeg, and knead some more, then add fried onions, bread crumbs soaked in milk, and eggs. When I was kneading the ground meat, I almost forget what I was making. Hamburgers are surprisingly time-consuming, despite the fact that they look like just rounded up ground meat and grilled.
I regret a little that I should have bought hamburger patties with the ingredients mixed and kneaded together. But I couldnât stop halfway through, so I shaped the meat into a hamburger and let the air out by tossing it back and forth between my hands as if I were a chef watching on TV.
Once this was done, all that is left is to grill the hamburger. Heat up the pan and place the hamburger on the pan. I make a salad and call Miyagi while listening to the sizzling sound.
As I cover the pan and wait for the hamburger steak to cook, Miyagi comes out of her room. She blurted out, âWelcome back,â and silently began preparing plates and rice.
Yesterday, suddenly, Miyagi made me swear to the pierce that was not as good as the promise she swore.
Dinner doesnât seem like the kind of thing I would make a promise to make.
I look at Miyagi as she places the hamburger on a plate prepared by her. She doesnât look happy or joyful. I donât know what she was thinking when she asked me to cook dinner.
ãWhat about the sauce?ã
Miyagi says, looking at the plate with the hamburger steak on it.
ãIâm going to make it now.ã
I put ketchup and sauce in a frying pan and bring to a light simmer. Pour the resulting sauce over the hamburger on the plate and bring to the table.
ãItadakimasu.ã
Miyagi and my voice are united.
Since we donât have a knife, we cut the hamburger steak with chopsticks.
The hamburger steak, which turned out soft and fluffy, was overflowing with juices when the edges were cut away, showing that it was cooked better than I had thought. One bite and I want to pat myself on the back for being so delicious that I want to serve it in my restaurant. But Miyagi says nothing.
ãWas it delicious?ã
I ask Miyagi, who is quietly eating a hamburger steak across from me.
ãItâs delicious. Do you like hamburgers, Sendai-san?ã
ãJust so-so?ã
If she asks me if I like it or not, I like it, but I didnât make it as something I like, so my answer is vague.
ãWhy the question mark? Didnât you make it because you like it?ã
ãWell, perhaps. Do you like hamburgers, Miyagi?ã
I look at Miyagi, wondering if I can list hamburgers as one of my favorite things from now on.
ãJust so-so.ã
Miyagi brings the hamburger to her mouth with an answer that I canât decide if itâs a lie or the truth. I continue to carve with chopsticks and bring the hamburger steak to my mouth.
The conversation ceases and the meal proceeds quietly.
The hamburger that takes a long time to make disappears into the stomach in less than half the time it took to make.
ãWhat are you going to do now, Sendai-san?ã
Putting down her chopsticks, Miyagi says without looking at me.
ãIâm preparing for the next part-time job so I donât get in trouble. Or maybe itâs a review. I teach a middle schooler, but Iâve forgotten a lot of what I studied in middle school, and Iâm worried that I have going to have to relearn it.ã
ãYouâre so serious, itâs just a part-time job.ã
ãI have to take it seriously, even if itâs a part-time job, you know?ã
ãHmphâ¦ã
She looks disinterested, and Miyagi brings barley tea from the refrigerator. She placed a glass in front of me as well, but the thumping sound the glass made when it hit the table was louder than usual, and I could tell Miyagi was not in a good mood.
ãThanks.ã
There was no reply to my thanks.
Miyagi sits across from me without a word.
ãIf Miyagi works part-time, tooâ¦ã
ãI wonât.ã
A curt voice responds, and the conversation breaks off again.
From the flow of the conversation, the reason for the bad mood is predictable.
The part-time story is not good.
Yesterday, too, Miyagiâs behavior became strange after talking about my part-time job.
ãâ¦After I clean this up, can I go to Sendai-sanâs room?ã
Suddenly Miyagi says.
There is no context.
On the contrary, itâs wrong.
Iâll now review for my next part-time job.
I told her so.
So I donât want her to come to my room.
ãThatâs fine, butâ¦ã
My mouth moved without hesitation and told Miyagi words that were not what I had in mind.
ãOkay, Iâll clean it up.ã
Miyagi stands up with a plate and a glass.
This is not right.
But I canât say my refusal.
Studying can be done after Miyagi returns to her room.
I can do it on the train.
The sound of dishes being washed echoes in the common space.
I canât say, âIâll help you.â
Itâs not the first time Miyagi has come to my room, but Iâm nervous.
I heard a loud clinking sound, got up, and Miyagi came up to me.
ãIâm finished.ã
ãAre you coming to my room?ã
ãIâm going.ã
Normally she would say, if you donât want me to come, I wonât go, but not today. When I returned to the room together, Miyagi sat down next to me as a matter of course. But she just sat down and kept silent. She was flipping through a dictionary on her lap on my desk with a difficult look on her face, as if she didnât want to speak.
ãWhat the hell is going onâ¦ã
I asks Miyagi, who has asked me herself if she can go to my room but has not said a word.
ãWhat the hell, you ask?ã
Miyagi looks up from her dictionary.
ãI mean why are you in a bad mood?ã
ãIâm not in a bad mood.ã
No, definitely not in a good mood.
Her voice is low and she wonât look at me.
Sheâs in such a bad mood that I canât believe she chose to come to this room on her own. She didnât seem to be in a good mood since we were eating dinner, but now she is in a much worse mood than that.
ãDonât you have something to do?ã
ãCanât I come here without one?ã
ãYou canât go wrong, but if youâre here, be in a good mood.ã
ãIâm not really in a bad mood.ã
Miyagi is stubborn when it comes to this.
Even when sheâs in a bad mood, she doesnât admit it, and the conversation remains on a parallel track.
It is not unusual for her mood to deteriorate without knowing the reason, but since she came to my room voluntarily, I would like to see her soften her attitude a bit.
ãIf youâre not in a bad mood, could you at least smile?ã
Iâm not saying sheâs like Hanamaki-san, but I wonât be punished if she smile at me. I have fulfilled my promise to cook dinner, which was unilaterally given to me today, and since I changed my plans to review and stayed with Miyagi, I think I have the right to ask her to do what I want.
ãIâm smiling.ã
Miyagi insists, but she still looks what can only be described as grumpy.
ãYouâre not even smiling.ã
ãI do but in college.ã
Iâm sure she was right.
I know that Miyagi is smiling in a place that is not here. Even in high school, I saw Miyagi smiling at school many times. When we were in the same class, in the second year, I saw her smiling in front of Utsunomiya, and in the third year, I saw Miyagi smiling in the hallway. Miyagi always smiles in my absence. It irritates me to think that she is still smiling in front of Utsunomiya as she did back then.
ãI mean, right here, right now, smile.ã
Miyagi and I are in different universities.
If she doesnât smile here, I will not be able to see Miyagiâs smiling face as I used to. If Iâm going to see them anyway, Iâd rather see Miyagi in a good mood than a bad mood, and if I could, Iâd want her to smile.
ãItâs not interesting and Iâm not smiling.ã
ãItâs as easy as smiling. Yes, lift up the corners of your mouth.ã
I press my finger against the edge of Miyagiâs lips and lift it gingerly.
With a thud, the dictionary falls from Miyagiâs lap.
I think her mood is going to get even worse, but it doesnât matter because nothing I do will make it better anyway. I make a smile on Miyagiâs face with my pressed fingers. Contrary to the corners of her mouth, which I force up, wrinkles are carved between her eyebrows. With a face that was a little more amusing than a smile, Miyagi grabbed my wrist. My fingers leave her face and she bites me.
So much so that I can feel her teeth on the bone.
Reflexively, I pull my finger back.
But my gnawed finger doesnât come out.
On the contrary, she bristled harder than before my finger was pulled.