Chapter Text
It was the first day of school, and Sumire was already miserable.
She stood under a nearby awning, a refugee from the downpour that had caught her off-guard. Other students rushed through the rain under their umbrellas, footsteps pounding down the road to reach the school and escape the torrent as fast as possible.
She had left her umbrella at home. It was an embarrassing mistake, to have missed that foreboding grey sky this morning, to have been so distracted by thoughts of her sister, of her nagging guilt to have chosen to go to a different school than her sibling.
Today was the first day of her first year of high school, and the first day she felt separated from her normally inseparable twin. Yet it seemed the fates desired to make it a miserable day for her.
Dare she brave the elements anyway to make it on time? She knew she would get soaked, and without a change of clothes handy, she would have to wear her sopping wet clothes until they dried on their own, an experience that she would very much like to avoid if at all possible.
But the alternative was to wait. To stand there, miserably, as other students passed her by, as they began the start of their brand-new lives while she stood on the sidelines. And even if she did wait, how long until the rain let up? The downpour showed no signs of stopping, and she feared that she really would be waiting all day for it to stop –
“Would you like to share?”
A quiet voice next to her spoke, and she jumped in surprise.
He stood there languidly, a boy with frizzy black hair. His uniform marked him as another student, and the umbrella he held in his hand denoted that he was one of the smart students who had brought one today.
She looked around and saw more students with umbrellas passing them by. Yet only this person, this boy had stopped to offer her his help.
It was a bit embarrassing to have to be rescued from this kind of situation, but it was a small price to pay for her health and comfort.
“Thank you for the offer.” She bowed. “I’ll be in your care.”
She stepped closer to him, close enough to be fully covered by his umbrella, and a faint blush dusted her cheeks when she realized just how close they had to be for both of them to be sheltered from the rain, that they were practically rubbing their shoulders against each other –
“I’m sorry for the trouble,” she said as they began walking toward the school.
“It’s not a big deal.”
The trip was quiet, punctured only by the pounding of rain and footsteps on the ground. Yet she couldn’t help but sneak glances at him, this boy who had stopped to help when no one else had.
“Are you a first year?” he asked.
“O – Oh, yes, I am!” A pause. “How did you know?”
He smiled at her, warm and soft and kind. “Lucky guess. I’m a second year, by the way.”
A second year? So, this was her senior, her senpai. She resolved to try her best to be a caring upperclassman when she, too, became a second year.
Just as it felt like they were building a rapport, they arrived at the school’s entrance, bringing their trip to an end. She saw him nod at her, saw him turn and begin to leave, walking away from her, walking out of her life –
“Senpai! Wait!”
He paused, turning to gaze at her curiously.
Sumire bowed, pushing out the words she wanted him to hear. “My name is Sumire Yoshizawa! Thank you again for your help!”
She kept her head bowed, unwilling to meet his gaze, not sure what had possessed her, what had convinced her it was so important to give him her name.
“Ren. Ren Amamiya.”
His voice was soft, amused. Yet she heard him loud and clear, all the same.
They were in different years. It was unlikely that they would meet again. Yet, she hoped that they would, all the same.
xxx
They met again a few days later.
Sumire stood in the room where the cooking club met. Today was the day when the school’s various clubs and sports teams advertised themselves to the student body, and this particular club caught her eye.
Cooking was one of the few hobbies she enjoyed, one of the few things she could confidently say she was better at than her sister. Although, it was not a very close comparison when Kasumi’s talent at cooking was limited to “burning water” and “melting the pots and pans”.
Suffice it to say, her sister was banned from her family’s kitchen altogether. They were quite attached to the house they lived in, after all.
She looked around the room, noting that most of the students here were female. She spotted only a scant few male students, and among them, she saw –
Her heart skipped a beat. It was him, her senpai who had helped her out a few days ago.
She sidled over to him, carefully sliding between the other students as the club’s president began introducing herself and the club.
“Senpai!” she whispered, grabbing his attention.
His eyes slid to her, partially obscured by those black-rimmed glasses he wore.
“Yoshizawa-san,” he murmured, acknowledging her.
She stood there, attention split between the boy next to her and the president. Being in different years meant they had no classes together, and she had thought they’d rarely be able to meet again. Yet it seemed fate had different plans for them, bringing them together again so soon.
They listened quietly as the president described how the club would be a place for them to share recipes, discuss tips and tricks, as well as practice cooking. Their club’s budget was limited, so she encouraged them all to bring ingredients to practice with, if possible.
After the club’s introduction was over, the students began milling around, asking questions to the officers, and crowding around the tables to fill out the sign-up sheets.
However, the two of them did not join them. Not yet.
“I didn’t know you had an interest in cooking, Senpai.”
He turned to her. “My guardian taught me how to make curry. And it’s a pretty good curry, too.” A pause. “But I want to learn other recipes.”
Guardian? Did that mean he didn’t live with his parents? Sumire sensed there was a story there, but she didn’t want to pry.
“I can teach you some recipes if you want,” she said.
“Oh?” There was a glint in his eyes, a smirk on his face. “Private lessons with a cute underclassman? How could I possibly refuse?”
Her face burned. Cute? Did he just call her cute? How was she supposed to feel about that?!
She put her hands on her chest, hoping they would calm down her racing heart that was now going about a mile a minute. “D – Don’t tease me like that, Senpai.”
His smirk faded, replaced with an abashed look. “Sorry if that made you uncomfortable. My mouth moves faster than my brain, sometimes.”
“N – No, it’s okay.”
She hadn’t disliked it. She just hadn’t been prepared for how his remark had sent butterflies into her stomach and set her heart aflutter.
Ren moved over to one of the other tables where a sheet of paper listing timeslots for using the club’s cooking equipment rested. “Looks like there’s an open slot in two days. Does that work for you?"
She nodded, blush having finally died down. "Y – Yes."
He grinned. “Excellent.” Picking up a pen, he filled out the timeslot with their names. “It’s a date, then.”
There was a pregnant pause, a lull in her train of thought as she slowly processed his words in the context of what he had just said moments ago.
Her blush returned with a fiery vengeance.
“S – Senpai!”
xxx
“How’s school been going, kid?”
Ren paused in the middle of washing dishes, thinking. School hadn’t been terribly exciting so far, except for one thing.
“I walked a girl to school on the first day,” he said.
Sojiro stared at him incredulously. “… You’re not pulling my leg, are you?”
“I am not,” he confirmed, putting a clean plate away and taking a dirty one from the tray.
“Well, did you get her number, at least?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Sojiro sighed. “And here I was, getting my hopes up.”
Ren stacked another clean plate on the rack. “She did offer to teach me how to cook, though.”
“She’s doing what now?!”
He summarized how he met the girl again at the cooking club and how she had offered to teach him recipes after hearing of his woefully small cookbook consisting only of curry recipes.
“You know, I could’ve taught you other recipes too if you just asked,” Sojiro grumbled. “Coffee and curry aren’t the only things I know how to make.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” Ren grinned. “Besides, I’d rather have a cute girl as a teacher instead of an old man.”
“Kid, I’d feel so insulted if I didn’t completely agree with you.”
They shared a chuckle, laughter echoing between the two of them before lapsing back into a comfortable silence.
“By the way,” he said, “are Wakaba and her daughter coming over tonight?”
Those two were the most devoted regulars of the café; he wouldn’t be surprised if most of Leblanc’s income came from that mother-daughter pair.
Sojiro shook his head. “Nah, she said she’s on the verge of a breakthrough and can’t be bothered to leave her lab. Guess that means I need to go make sure Futaba doesn’t starve in the meantime.”
His guardian stood up, stretching. “I’m gonna go take care of that. Watch the shop while I’m gone, yeah?” He turned, grinning at him. “And if you get lucky with your girl … well, let’s just say the kitchen here is probably better than whatever you have at school.”
The door jingled shut behind Sojiro, leaving Ren all alone with his mind in turmoil.
He knew his guardian meant well, but it was far too soon to say what his feelings were regarding that girl he had met on a rainy day.
Did he find her physically attractive with her slim figure and her long, silky red hair? Certainly. Did he enjoy teasing her and watching her face light up like a strawberry? Certainly.
Did he want to get to know her better, to slowly tie their hearts together through tingling touches and affectionate words?
… He wouldn’t mind the opportunity, certainly. But he didn’t know if she felt the same, or if she was simply paying him back for helping her out on that rainy day.
He sighed. No use ruminating about it any further. He would just have to wait and see how things played out.
He reached for another dirty plate, only for his fingers to grasp thin air. Blinking, he realized the stack of dirty dishes was already gone.
That was fast. Had there been so few customers again? It was concerning how little patronage this café seemed to get, but he supposed it wasn’t a matter for him to deal with.
He headed upstairs, intent on doing some homework before turning in for the night.
xxx
Ren supposed he should count himself lucky that a cute girl was about to teach him how to cook.
Although, the way she was menacingly holding that kitchen knife sort of ruined that innocent image in his head.
“You’re late,” Sumire grumbled.
“Sorry.” Ren rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Kawakami-sensei pulled me aside after class to talk about something, so I got held up.” His eyes slid to that sharp kitchen knife, glinting under the light. “I don’t think you’re supposed to wave that knife around like that.”
She paused. “I suppose not,” she conceded, putting it down.
Ren sighed in relief now that his life was no longer in jeopardy. “Well, what are we going to make today, Yoshizawa-sensei?”
“Well …” She pulled out several plastic containers, revealing small strips of salmon and sheets of dried seaweed. “I thought we could start with something simple, like onigiri. I brought some leftovers that we can use as filling.” She pointed to a humming appliance in the corner. “I also started the rice cooker early so we don’t have to wait around as long.”
He nodded. “What should I be helping with?”
“You can start by helping me cut the seaweed sheets.”
Sumire showed him how to cut the sheets into thirds with precise, clean cuts from a scissor. After seeing her demonstration, he mimicked her motions with careful, slow cuts.
“Very good.” She glanced at the rice cooker, which was now beeping “Looks like the rice is ready.”
She took the rice out, then instructed him to wet his hands and rub some salt into his palms.
“What’s the salt for?” he asked.
“It helps flavor the onigiri and preserve it for longer.”
With their hands prepared, Sumire scooped a handful of rice from the container. Pressing down on the center to make an indentation, she put a piece of salmon in the depression before molding the rest of the rice around it, covering it up.
“You want to be gentle when you shape the rice,” she explained. “You want to be just firm enough so the rice doesn’t fall apart, but you don’t want to squeeze the rice too tightly either.”
Ren nodded, absorbing her words like a sponge. He scooped some rice of his own, trying to mold it and match her shape –
It fell apart into pieces.
“No, no, you were too rough with it,” she admonished him. Grabbing his hands, she began guiding his fingers through the motions, explaining as she went.
Ren might’ve thought those explanations were useful if his mind weren’t currently preoccupied with the sensation of her soft hands rubbing against his own, her gentle fingers kneading against his and caressing him with their warmth.
“Your hands feel nice.”
Moments later, his brain registered what had just come out of his mouth.
He froze.
Sumire froze.
They stared at each other, mutual embarrassment flushing through both their cheeks before she snatched her hands away.
“I – I’m so sorry!” She very pointedly didn’t look at him. “That was presumptuous of me.”
Ren couldn’t see his face, but he imagined he must’ve had a goofy grin adorning it right now.
“T – That’s all right,” he said. “Shall we continue, Yoshizawa-sensei?”
Grateful for the distraction, Sumire continued her instructions, this time without the … hands-on demonstration.
Luckily, he managed to mold the rice successfully this time, removing the need for physical intervention.
“Good work,” she said. “Next, wrap a piece of the seaweed around it, and it’s all done!”
Moments later, his very first hand-made onigiri sat in front of him, proudly displayed.
“Great job!” She beamed at him. “Now, let’s make some more in the time we have left.”
After getting a few more freshly-made onigiri under his belt, he felt he was getting the hang of it. Thus emboldened, he decided to try to make a more exotic shape for his next one.
“Is that … a cat’s face?” Sumire asked, looking over curiously.
Ren grimaced, looking at his handiwork. “It’s supposed to be, at least.”
His newest onigiri had some rice protruding from the top to represent ears, and some lumps in strategic locations to represent eyes and whiskers. All in all, it wasn’t too bad, if you squinted.
“Do you like cats, Senpai?”
He nodded. “There were a few strays back in my hometown that I liked to feed.”
He wondered how they were doing, now that he was no longer there. He hoped someone else was helping to keep them fed.
“Hometown?” Sumire asked. “What made you decide to move here?”
Ren paused, considering. It wasn’t something he wanted to spread around, but … he felt he could trust her to keep a secret.
“Don’t tell anyone else, okay? Here’s what happened …”
He told her of an encounter at night, of running into a man trying to force a woman into his car. He spoke of his intervention, of stepping in front of the woman and watching as the man drunkenly stumbled and fell to the ground all on his own.
The man had threatened to sue. But he never followed up on the threat, in the end.
The woman had thanked him profusely for his help, and somehow, the local newspaper found out about his deed and was praising him as a hero by the next day.
“It’s a pretty small town, so no matter where I went, people were whispering and gossiping about me.” He shook his head. “It got pretty tiresome, and I had already been thinking of moving to the city at that point, so that felt like as good an excuse as any.”
“And your parents were okay with you moving out like that?”
“They were concerned with the expense of me living here,” Ren admitted. “But a family friend knew someone willing to host me for a while, so things worked out.”
His story finished, they lapsed into a comfortable silence. Soon enough, they ran out of rice, now turned into a dozen freshly made onigiri.
Ren picked one up, taking a bite.
It was delicious.
“Thank you for your instruction today, Yoshizawa-sensei,” he said.
“I – It was no trouble at all.” She hesitated, looking away. “I – I have more recipes I could teach you if you’d like to do this again sometime …”
Did he? Did he want to spend more time with his adorably cute junior, learning to cook and eating delicious food?
The answer was obvious.
He beamed at her. “I would love to.”
She beamed at him in return.