Vol 1 Chapter 3 (2/2)

“Hm?”

Hiyori dashed into her room without explaining, returning after a moment holding something red to her chest. “You should wear an ap.r.o.n, right? Here, I’ll lend you this!”

“Ah, thank y…”

The ap.r.o.n she held out for him was a red frilly piece with white polkadots. It was a cuteness reminiscent of the Emerald offices, and while he could reasonably picture Hiyori in it, Yokozawa himself was another story. The furrow between his brows deepened just thinking about what he’d look like in the thing.

“Papa bought it for me for my birthday, but it’s too big for me to use just yet. It might be a little small for you, but it’s all I have right now…”

“It would be a waste to get your present dirty, though, right?”

“You wear an ap.r.o.n so you won’t get your clothes dirty. It’s a wastenot to use it!” She seemed set on lending it to him, so to refuse would be rude. But it wasn’t as if Kiris.h.i.+ma was going to see him in it, so after much hesitation, he decided to borrow it without fuss.

He finally took the ap.r.o.n from her, reminding, “Then I’ll use it gratefully. But—don’t laugh if it doesn’t look good on me, got it?”

“She’s sound asleep,” Kiris.h.i.+ma announced, leaving Hiyori’s room to find Yokozawa enjoying a beer on the sofa and settling down beside him.

“She was pretty worked up today, after all.” After they’d made dinner together, Yokozawa had made her take a bath, looked over her homework, and then sent her off to bed in place of her father who still hadn’t arrived home yet. Kiris.h.i.+ma finally made it in around midnight.

Despite the fact that it was the end of the cycle, the guy didn’t really look all that tired, and in fact seemed in almost decent spirits—but it could have simply been that the fatigue had him worked up, so Yokozawa purposefully avoided pressing the issue.

“You really saved me today, thanks. Nothing happened, then?”

“We made dinner without issue, and she finished all her homework—so no, nothing happened. I even managed to finish a few work items of my own I had left to do.” He’d seen to some paperwork he’d brought home with him while waiting for Kiris.h.i.+ma to arrive after putting Hiyori to bed—though the sofa had been so comfortable, he’d nearly nodded off a few times while working.

“Careful—you’re sounding like a better father than me right about now.”

“You just suck at running a household.” He never would have realized Kiris.h.i.+ma had been married with a kid if the guy hadn’t told him. He’d mentioned a while back that he only wore his wedding ring to ward off questions from authors—which meant he’d probably been approached romantically more than a few times in the past.

“And yet you seem rather comfortable with it.”

“Sorry I look old for my age.”

“I was complimenting you, geez. I think it’s better than looking all worked up, at least. Hiyo trusts you anyways, right?”

“Well…yeah.” Whenever he brought up Hiyori, Yokozawa found he couldn’t reply as sharply as usual. Seeing Yokozawa grow quiet, Kiris.h.i.+ma fell silent as well.

Just as he was wondering how long this uncomfortable silence was going to last, Kiris.h.i.+ma spoke up in a soft voice, “…Did Hiyori…say anything?”

“What do you mean, ‘anything’?”

“Like…that she was scared being left alone, or lonely—I just thought maybe she’d have told you if she felt that way. She’d never say it to me because she doesn’t want me to worry.” It seemed as if Kiris.h.i.+ma actually dealt with the same fatherly worries as the rest of the world.

“Well, she never said she was lonely, if it makes you feel better. Just kept going on and on about how she was just fine on her own. And oh yeah—that her friend Yuki-chan’s mother let her eat some pudding she’d made.” He pondered now that perhaps she’d been unconsciously jealous of that friend.

As if he were considering exactly the same thing Yokozawa was, Kiris.h.i.+ma’s expression s.h.i.+fted into a slightly dispirited mien. “…I see.”

“And that bothers you.”

“Of course it does! It would be fine if I just had a job where I could get home earlier, but even if I changed jobs, there’s nothing else I can do but be an editor!”

“You’re working hard enough as is! There are days with any job where you’ll have to work late hours—and kids will understand that even if you don’t tell them. Just give her attention on the days that you can, and let her know if something’s bothering you.”

Kiris.h.i.+ma gaped at Yokozawa as if he’d just seen a ghost. “…There’s a first. I never expected you’d be the one to comfort me.”

“I didn’t say it for you. All I was doing was saying what was best for Hiyo…”

“…So you had a pretty lonely childhood yourself, then?”

“…I just stayed at home by myself a lot, since both my parents worked.”

It had admittedly been lonely when he was by himself, but he’d been able to forget those feelings so long as he had a book in his hands. Once they’d realized that he was fine if they gave him books to read, his parents had started giving him enough allowance to cover not only his meals, but the occasional book purchase as well.

He knew that they loved him, and he understood that they were busy with their jobs—so he’d always thought it was just his role to sit quietly and not get in their way.

Still…it wasn’t like he’d never wished that they’d listen to him talk some. While from an adult’s perspective it may have seemed like they were just humoring him, he still would have liked for them to listen to what he found that day, or what new thing he learned, or what he thought about a book he’d just finished—even just for a little bit would’ve been fine.

Kiris.h.i.+ma was quite good at doing that, he felt. Despite the fact that he was an editor—a line of work known for breeding night owls—he had his schedule planned out perfectly and was usually able to finish his work and make it home by 6 PM. And on top of that, he had more work than most others, ensuring that even the most no-name of his authors outsold their peers—he was amazing for being able to accomplish all of that. While his personality may have been slightly twisted in places, it seemed mainly limited to being directed at Yokozawa himself for now, and his authors and subordinates all appeared to have great faith in him.

“I guess that’s why you’re good at taking care of people.”

“Maybe.” Even Yokozawa himself wasn’t entirely sure if his habit of being overprotective was genetic or just a product of the environment he’d been raised in. He was at least sure that the reason he was so good at cooking was because of how he’d grown up. “Oh—so what did you do for dinner?”

“Haven’t had any yet. I’m starving, though.”

“If you were just waiting on a proof, you could’ve just grabbed something at the office and eaten there.” Even if delivery wasn’t an option, he still could have at least quenched the hunger pangs a bit if he’d had one of the others still hanging around go and buy something.

At Yokozawa’s annoyed expression, Kiris.h.i.+ma returned with an excuse that sounded downright childish: “I made myself wait—because I wanted to enjoy that delicious nikujaga that you and Hiyo were making.”

“I didn’t say you had to stuff yourself or anyth…wait a minute—how did you know we were making nikujaga?!”

“Hiyo texted me: ‘Oniichan and I are making nikujaga‘. Apparently she was pretty thrilled to cook with you—I didn’t even know you knew how. Quite a shocker, there.”

Yokozawa hadn’t even noticed that Hiyori had been texting anyone. He wasn’t exactly thrilled with Kiris.h.i.+ma knowing that—but when he thought about how Hiyori had felt, he couldn’t stay mad. “It’d be stranger if I couldn’t. Which reminds me—Hiyo told me all about how her papa can’t even peel an apple properly.”

“Who needs to peel apples? Just eat ‘em how they are! And as long as she knows I can’t do anything myself, she learns faster—so it works out for the best.” He seemed quite proud of himself for this—but that just made him a bad example. It wasn’t really a good habit for a parent to take on, but Yokozawa supposed that this carefree att.i.tude generally worked out for Kiris.h.i.+ma.

“You don’t seem very worried; what’re you gonna do when Hiyo gets married and moves out?”

Yokozawa wondered idly what Kiris.h.i.+ma would look like when he found out Hiyori was getting married—he was probably the type to be all smiles on the surface but silently weeping underneath it all. Or maybe he wouldn’t care at all what others thought and just blubber on like a little girl.

“Then I guess I’d just have to have you cook for me. I’m looking forward to your pudding and stewed pork, by the way.”

“Huh? I told Hiyo I’d make that for her! Why the h.e.l.l do I have to let you have any?!” Just how much had Hiyori written about Yokozawa in that message? Maybe he’d let his guard down too much just because Kiris.h.i.+ma wasn’t around.

“What do you mean why? Because I want to try it, of course.”

“It was a rhetorical question! And—what the h.e.l.l are you laughing at? It’s creeping me out.”

“Oh nothing~”

“If you’ve got something to say, then spit it out!” No matter how the guy tried to play it off, his expression said he was hiding something. But despite Yokozawa’s best glares, he didn’t seem moved in the least.

“It’s a secret. If I told you, you’d definitely get p.i.s.sed. But—if you promise not to get mad, then I don’t mind telling.”

“…Whatever, idiot.” Yokozawa had quickly grown tired of putting up with Kiris.h.i.+ma when he was purposefully teasing him. If he was going to play hard to get, then there was no sense in giving him the pleasure of the chase.

“What, you’re not curious?”

Kiris.h.i.+ma seemed quite put out as Yokozawa turned the tables on him. “Not really. Anyways—I’m leaving. Fix yourself dinner. Even if you can’t peel an apple, I have full faith that you can heat up some miso soup at least.” Kiris.h.i.+ma was home, and Hiyori was asleep—Yokozawa had no reasons left to stay in this apartment.

“Why don’t you just spend the night? It looks like my mother aired out the futon in the guest room, after all.”

“Don’t be stupid—I’ve got a cat, remember? I’m sure he wouldn’t get into any trouble, but I can’t just leave him on his own.” Sorata may have been the same age as Hiyori, but he was a senior in cat years. He was a pretty laid back cat and didn’t cause any problems, but even cats got lonely when left on their own.

“Ah, right… Sorry for keeping you here for so long. You really did help me out tonight.”

Hearing these words of genuine grat.i.tude that were worlds away from his quips before, Yokozawa couldn’t help feeling a bit embarra.s.sed. To hide this, he fired back with a comment that wasn’t entirely truthful, “It wasn’t for you—it was for Hiyo. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

“Yeah, I know. But still—thank you.”

“………” He couldn’t bring himself to look Kiris.h.i.+ma in his smiling face—all he wanted to do was get out of this room, flooded with a slightly different atmosphere from usual, as quickly as possible. “Well, I’m off then.”

Kiris.h.i.+ma stood as well while Yokozawa hurriedly pulled on his coat and prepared himself to leave. “The last train’s long gone; you want me to drive you home?”

“It’s fine; I’ll take a taxi. And—what, you were planning on leaving Hiyo here alone?”

“Oh…right. Then, here—take this. Your fee for babysitting.”

“I never asked for th—” When he tried to refuse the bills that Kiris.h.i.+ma had pulled from his wallet, instead he had it forcibly pressed into his hand.

“Just take it. You’ve got your cat waiting for you at home, right? Hurry up and get going. If it bothers you that much, then sell the s.h.i.+t out of my books and get me a raise.”

“…Fine.” Realizing it would be even ruder to continue refusing, he grudgingly accepted the money.

“All right then—be careful going home. Good night.”

“G-good night…” He quickly left the apartment, as if fleeing Kiris.h.i.+ma’s gaze. Jogging towards the elevator hall, he pushed the call b.u.t.ton several times in succession, unable to calm down.

“…What the h.e.l.l is my problem?”

His pulse had started to rise, and for some reason his entire body felt flushed. His palms were sweaty from balling his hands into fists, and his vision swam before him.

But more than all of this, he couldn’t understand the irregular pounding of his heart—and the furrow between his brows deepened in confusion.