One day in June, as the hands of the wall clock approached six o'clock, Kitagawa Ryo stood in the rather cramped kitchen, cautiously observing the situation as if preparing for a special exam.
"Be careful, Hiyori."
He uttered a seemingly unhelpful line, unsure whether it sounded sarcastic. Holding that concern, he addressed Shiina Hiyori, who stood beside him.
The kitchen was indeed small, and wanting to avoid every possible problem, Ryo leaned in slightly closer—to a point where they could hear each other's breathing, their shoulders brushing.
He had originally planned to make rice balls himself that day. He wasn't particularly fond of sushi, preferring rice balls where the filling is inside rather than on top. But now, that was irrelevant.
If he had known Hiyori would suddenly volunteer to cook, Ryo would have prepped the ingredients beforehand.
Her declaration came just thirty minutes earlier. For Ryo, it caused a commotion comparable to the Blueberry Pie War. Somehow, his room had already become the site of two major events in just the first semester.
Still, he couldn't refuse. After all, he had promised her he'd let her cook for him once her skills improved. Though she handled herself well and looked adorable in a pink apron, Ryo's heart still skipped a beat when she picked up a sharp knife.
He trusted her with washing the vegetables, but when it came to cutting, he stood guard like a supervisor. His nervous demeanor made Hiyori a bit unsure.
"Don't worry."
Hiyori shook her head. Like Horikita Suzune, she tied her long hair into a ponytail, which gave her a graceful, dynamic charm.
Ryo hadn't watched a girl cook for the first time since nearly three years ago—with Karuizawa Kei. The memory made him more anxious watching Hiyori, his eyes glued to her pale fingers.
As the knife fell repeatedly, his brain felt like it was on a rollercoaster.
Due to the closeness of their gazes, when Hiyori turned after cutting a carrot, she caught a glimpse of something inside his collar.
"Be careful with the julienning."
Ryo hadn't noticed her gaze and simply offered a soft reminder.
"Like this?"
"Mhm. Your knife skills are better than I expected!"
Seeing her work so steadily, Ryo finally relaxed and let out a rare sigh of relief.
"All done."
Hiyori announced it like a child waiting for praise, and Ryo responded with a natural smile.
He had a hunch: he would witness much more of Hiyori's growth.
"I'll handle the rest of the ingredients."
Truthfully, Ryo still couldn't let her near the stove. Given her previous confusion between salt and sugar, he figured she should just focus on prep and finishing.
Ryo worked faster than Hiyori and delegated a few simple tasks. Once he had finished everything, he handed the kitchen back to her with finesse.
Watching her carefully shape rice balls, Ryo suddenly remembered playing with clay as a child. But unlike his clumsy attempts, Hiyori shaped hers into various creative forms.
"How's the flavor?"
Hiyori proudly placed the finished plate on the table. A rice grain clung to her lips, and she held up a small rice ball to offer Ryo.
Although most of the seasoning had been done by him, Ryo played along and accepted it with his hand, chewing thoughtfully.
"Just right."
"..."
He glanced over to see Hiyori looking disappointed.
"Did you expect me to eat from your hand directly?"
Reading her expression instantly, Ryo tilted his head.
"Read that in some book? But in reality, that's kind of rude, don't you think?"
He pulled out a chair and sat at the table. Hiyori, still puffing her cheeks, looked genuinely displeased.
"Want to play a game?"
Ryo, used to Hiyori's little moods, suddenly got an idea as he glanced at the rice balls:
"We take turns naming a mystery novel we've read and think the other hasn't. If the other hasn't read it, they eat a rice ball. Sound good?"
Mentioning mystery novels immediately lifted Hiyori's spirits.
"You've been too busy with class lately. I bet you haven't read much."
"Maybe."
Ryo glanced at her petite figure, as if measuring her appetite.
"You can probably only handle four."
"Ready to eat ten, Ryo?"
She shot back with uncharacteristic competitiveness.
"And Then There Were None."
The tension dissolved. Hiyori looked at him oddly. Even non-fans knew Agatha Christie's famous novel. Even Horikita Suzune liked it.
"Actually, I'm just hungry. Needed a starter."
Ryo casually picked a rice ball and munched while looking at Hiyori.
"Your turn."
"The Tragedy of X."
"Classic. By Ellery Queen—a duo of cousins. Not only were their mysteries legendary, their PR stunts—like using rival pen names to hype up debates—were brilliant."
Hiyori nodded.
"They published The Greek Coffin Mystery as Queen and The Tragedy of X as Barnaby Ross. Even though Queen already had a reputation, the two novels sparked debate, and many found X's mystery more intriguing. It's definitely one of their best works."
She carefully nibbled on a rice ball. Unlike Ryo's rough style, she was very precise, making sure no rice fell on the table or her clothes.
Ryo decided not to mention the rice grain still on her cheek.
"The Human Chair."
"An early work by Edogawa Ranpo. Not really a mystery—more psychological horror. The first-person narration makes it quite unsettling."
Remembering the story, Hiyori shifted uncomfortably as if fearing someone might be hiding in her chair.
"I'm right here."
Ryo chuckled. It was the kind of story that seemed reasonable until you actually thought about it.
"Confessions."
"Minato Kanae's work. A sweet-sounding title for a very dark story. A hallmark of social mystery fiction."
As he took another rice ball from her, he passed one to her.
"Two more."
She gave him a look but kept eating. Somehow, even the rice tasted sweeter.
"Let me see..."
After two rounds, Ryo got serious. He needed a book Hiyori might not know.
"The Daughter of Time."
"Ryo, you underestimate me."
She sighed, displeased.
"By Josephine Tey, one of the three queens of the Golden Age of mystery. The title comes from Francis Bacon: 'Truth is the daughter of time.'"
"..."
She mumbled,
"Now all I think of when I hear Bacon is inductive reasoning."
She recalled the fake test Ryo had made her and Kaneda Satoru prepare back in May. That topic was on it.
"Ahem, thanks for your hard work."
Ignoring him, she said:
"Out."
"By Kirino Natsuo. The first Japanese novel nominated for the Edgar Award."
Ryo responded quickly, eyes on her second rice ball.
"Looks like you can't even finish four."
"Whatever..."
She muttered and licked her lips. A lone grain of rice remained. Ryo reached over and brushed it off.
"Love's Coming-of-Age Ceremony."
"Haven't read it."
"Really?"
Ryo was surprised. He thought all his picks had been well-known. But the game was more about sharing than winning.
"I haven't, okay?"
She pouted and handed him a rice ball.
"Feed me."
"Did we agree to that rule?"
"If you don't, how will we enforce the punishment?"
She winked at him playfully. Ryo had never seen this side of her. A little flustered, he held the rice ball and fed her the left side.
Just as he suspected, feeding someone by hand felt entirely different than using chopsticks.
They both leaned forward. Ryo could see her pale neck, her ears peeking through silver hair, and her fluttering lashes like black butterflies.
As her lips neared his fingers, Ryo instinctively pulled back slightly, watching her leave a bite mark.
"I'm full. Looks like you overestimated me."
She stopped just before her lips touched his fingers and sat back.
"What have you been reading lately?"
Ryo asked, relieved, as he put the rice ball back and grabbed a new one.
"A novel by Higashino Keigo."
She looked at Ryo, then reached out to wipe a rice grain from the corner of his mouth.
"Parallel World... Love Story."
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