Before the meal was served, Haru contacted Yukino via phone, letting her know that everything was under control and that he could handle the situation.
Yukino didn't press for details. She simply said to make sure he finished things properly and then come back.
Her calm composure caught Haru slightly off guard.
Utaha, sitting beside him, noticed and curiously asked. Haru leaned slightly closer and lowered his voice: "I originally planned to come with Yukino today, but she told me to come alone to help you."
"Huh?"
Utaha paused, then suddenly smiled. "I see… so Yukino treats me as a friend."
Haru nodded.
Knowing Yukino's personality, there was no way she would have allowed this unless she genuinely considered someone a friend.
"Thank you for your help," Utaha said, her smile bright and warm.
She felt genuinely happy—and a little touched.
Normally, she and Yukino were constantly at odds, with Yukino often subduing her with some simple maneuver. Yet today, Yukino had willingly prioritized helping her. Even letting Haru come alone on Valentine's Day, she agreed.
Utaha glanced toward the kitchen to make sure her mother wasn't watching, then leaned toward Haru and whispered, "You go home first. I'll come over afterward."
"Got it," Haru said, not pressing for details.
Judging from the soft, almost tender expression in front of him, he could already guess that tonight, she and Yukino would be… well, spending some intimate time together. Even though Utaha usually took the lead, that didn't stop her from looking confident before every "charge."
Soon, the meal was set on the table. Mrs. Kasumigaoka removed her apron, smiling gently as she sat down. The spread was ordinary home cooking, nothing extraordinary, but Haru dug in first, starting with the fried pork cutlet.
Being a meat-lover, this was no problem for him.
Utaha remained demure at the table, eating quietly with delicate movements—though Haru suspected it was partly an act. Across from them, Mrs. Kasumigaoka didn't hide her scrutinizing gaze. Once Haru had sampled every dish, she smiled and asked, "Amamiya-san, is my cooking to your taste?"
"It's very good," he replied sincerely.
Excluding the unusual effects of his [Drugging] skill, her cooking genuinely matched Yukino's level.
Hearing this, the woman's smile broadened. "Thank you for the compliment. If you enjoy it, you're welcome to come by often."
A subtle test, perhaps? Both Haru and Utaha thought the same.
Without warning, Mrs. Kasumigaoka's mental presence was sharp. She lightly tapped her forehead, as if remembering something. "I should mention… I only have a few dishes I'm truly skilled at. If you come often, I worry you might get bored."
Haru responded calmly, "That's impossible."
"Oh? Why not?"
"I may not be a hardcore foodie, but if someone takes the time to make me good meals, I won't think about getting bored. I'll just immerse myself fully and enjoy the food."
He said this earnestly, subtly leaning forward to give Utaha a quick glance.
She understood instantly: "You need my cooperation."
She had seen that look countless times at the club.
Mrs. Kasumigaoka, seemingly flustered by the praise, covered her mouth with a laugh. Haru smiled back. "Honestly, I'd like to come often."
"Just for the food?" she asked.
"Not only that," he said seriously, shaking his head. "I know a bit about cooking myself, so seeing your skills makes me… itch a little. It's that feeling you get when encountering a master—you want to exchange tips."
A mix of compliment and setup.
The woman's curiosity grew.
"Amamiya-kun, are you also good at cooking?"
Haru didn't answer immediately. Utaha seized the chance: "Mom, he's being modest. Really modest."
"Modest?" Mrs. Kasumigaoka raised an eyebrow.
"Yes. His skill surpasses what you imagine. To me, no restaurant chef I've encountered matches him."
Mrs. Kasumigaoka froze, caught off guard. Her earlier subtle test had been derailed by the combined praise of daughter and guest.
Haru added, "Not that I'm boasting—I've just been cooking since I was little. Over the years, I've gotten a bit skilled."
"Utaha wasn't exaggerating," her mother noted, smiling. Then, looking at the half-eaten fried cutlet: "You enjoy it that much, you could probably make it yourself?"
Haru didn't answer directly. Instead, he pondered aloud: "Honestly, if I made this, I'd slice the pork to exactly 0.8 centimeters thick, then tenderize it using the back of the knife or another tool."
Mrs. Kasumigaoka's eyes widened. She could tell he wasn't bluffing—he truly could do it.
Utaha, seeing her mother distracted, added: "Haru, why not show us after dinner?"
Haru initially waved her off, pretending modesty. But the mother insisted: "Go ahead—if you want to share cooking tips, here's your chance."
"Alright, then," Haru said, pretending to reluctantly agree. Utaha suppressed a smile at his act.
After dinner, the three headed to the kitchen. Haru tied on an apron, put on arm sleeves, and picked up a knife. Mrs. Kasumigaoka and Utaha watched intently.
At first, everything was normal. Then Haru began slicing the pork with perfect uniformity. Each piece was identical in size and thickness. Mrs. Kasumigaoka straightened in astonishment.
Not done yet. Haru carefully coated each slice in flour, egg, and breadcrumbs, pressing them firmly. The oil temperature was perfect; he fried the cutlets precisely at seventy percent heat. Every motion flowed naturally, his focus absolute.
The aroma filled the kitchen. Mrs. Kasumigaoka, despite having eaten, felt her throat tighten. Utaha's lips curved with pride and joy, seeing the person she liked command the scene.
"Now, only the final step remains." Haru said.
As the fragrant fried pork cutlets came out of the pan, Haru carried the platter and turned to face the mother and daughter.
Mrs. Kasumigaoka was momentarily flustered by the aroma. "Final step?"
Haru handed her a pair of chopsticks and placed them in front of her. "Tasting."
By the time the effects of Sage-time kicked in, everything for the day had come to an end.
~~~~~~~~~~
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