The day I injured my finger, my glorious part-time career at the convenience store took an abrupt vacation—one whole month off.

It turns out, trying to stock shelves and carry goods with one hand is impossible… and apparently, cashiers aren't supposed to keep showing customers their middle finger, even if it's injured.

So now, after school, I'd just trudge back to the apartment. Boring. Too boring.

With nothing better to do, I opened my laptop and pulled up one of those anime series the guys in class wouldn't shut up about. Two episodes in, my mind was already reeling.

What kind of… absurd genius thought of this plot?

That was The 100 Girlfriends Who Really, Really, Really, Really, REALLY Love You.

…And I realized, even if I had the stamina of a bull, I'd probably keel over after just a few days in the protagonist's shoes.

When evening rolled around, the smell of dinner drifted out from the kitchen—rich, warm, and downright dangerous for an empty stomach. I peeked over the counter, and my jaw nearly hit the floor.

Beef bone soup. Grilled saury. Golden fried shrimp tempura. Thick, fluffy omelette. And a bright carrot-corn salad to top it off.

"Whoa… Tomoko, what's the occasion? This looks like a festival!"

Even just breathing in the aroma made my appetite grow claws.

Tomoko smiled that gentle, soft smile that made the whole room feel warmer.

"I looked it up online—these are ingredients that can help fractures heal faster."

Still the same considerate lady as ever.

Her pigtails swayed when she moved, her lips glossed in soft pink, glistening under the light.

That loose nightgown of hers… well, it wasn't really hiding anything. When she walked, her chest moved with a soft bounce, like it had its own gentle rhythm.

The hem barely reached her hips, and the faint sway of that silhouette behind her could make a saint look twice.

"Thanks, Tomoko! I'm ready to dig in!"

I pressed my hands together in a quick itadakimasu.

A beautiful, slightly shy woman across from me… and a table of food radiating pure home-cooked love.

Happiness really did have a shape, and it was this moment right here.

"Mm! So good!" I said through a mouthful.

Each dish had its own charm, but together they hit me in waves—warm broth, crisp tempura, buttery omelette—pure bliss.

"Eat as much as you want, Sousuke-kun. A boy your age needs to keep up his strength," she said, watching me like my happiness was her own.

…Maybe that's exactly what it was for her.

She looked almost proud—like being relied on, being praised, was something she couldn't get enough of.

Somehow, I ended up clearing the table completely. Her cooking had that kind of magic.

After the dishes were done, Tomoko-sister sat next to me on the sofa and took my injured hand, cradling it like something precious.

"Does it still hurt here, Sousuke-kun?"

"Not at all. I'm feeling much better after your treatment yesterday," I said.

Without hesitation, she rested my hand on her lap—smooth and warm through her stockings.

"Mm… you talked about that 'scientific method' yesterday. Does it really work? Shouldn't you be resting more?"

I gave her thigh the faintest squeeze. She let out a small, startled sound.

"Of course it works," I said, grinning. "Besides, a little exercise helps you sleep better, right?"

"L-last time, after I bought that new dress, I did sleep really well…" she murmured, looking away.

"Speaking of which… you haven't worn it recently. Why not?"

Her cheeks flushed as she glanced aside. "Maybe… I only bought it because you liked it, Sousuke-kun. If you want to see it again…"

"I would love to but it would have to wait until I recovered completely."

…

Some time later, I slipped back to my own room.

A hot shower washed away the day's fatigue, and by the time I sank into bed, I was feeling light as air.

Pulling out my phone, I messaged Kobayakawa Kana. The school festival was coming up, and we still needed booth ideas.

Turned out, her "business trip" was actually a nationwide store tour—she wouldn't be back for a month.

But she still chatted with me every night, and on weekends, she sent travel photos.

[Sousuke]: Kana, the school festival's almost here. Any Hokkaido specialties we could use for a booth?

[Kana]: When you say Hokkaido, I think ramen. Sapporo, Asahikawa, Hakodate… any of them would make your mouth water.

She even sent me a few photos—perfect steaming bowls that made me want to teleport there on the spot.

[Kana]: I'm actually in Hokkaido for work right now. These look delicious, right?

Ramen's perfect, I thought. I'd pitch it to Mizutani tomorrow.

[Sousuke]: Great idea! Kana's food pics are amazing, but… why no Kana pics?

[Kana]: Did Sousuke miss me? 🥰 I have some selfies, but I didn't think they looked good…

[Sousuke]: What are you talking about? If Kana—Hokkaido's No.1 beauty—isn't photogenic, every other woman's in trouble.

There was a pause… and then several photos appeared. Kana in casual clothes instead of her usual work attire—it felt like seeing a different side of her.

[Sousuke]: Beautiful. Each outfit has a different vibe. I can't get enough.

[Kana]: Really, Sousuke? 🥺

[Sousuke]: Of course.

This time the wait was longer… until a single photo arrived.

Hotel room. Warm lighting. Kana in a white camisole nightgown, light makeup softening her features, lips tinged with red.

She was leaning slightly forward, hand near her mouth, as if caught mid-thought. The line of her waist drew the eye downward to the curve of her hips and long, pale legs. The lighting blurred the edges of reality, like a dream you didn't want to wake from.

I don't know how long I just stared before her next message appeared.

[Kana]: Sousuke… please wait for me to come back…