Heartbeats and Illusions

The kitchen was alive with the warm aroma of spices and simmering stew as Natsukawa Kanade worked meticulously. He washed the prepared ingredients, peeled the potatoes, and diced them into small, uniform pieces before dropping them into cold water to prevent discoloration. Next came the carrots, which he carefully processed and added to a pot of water alongside the potatoes.

As the water heated to a boil, Kanade unwrapped the curry cubes, crumbling them into the pot before adjusting the water to the perfect consistency. The rich, savory fragrance began to waft through the kitchen as he added tender chunks of beef, allowing the flavors to meld over medium heat.

Once the stew reached just the right thickness, he plated it with a steaming bed of rice, garnishing it with a sprinkle of pepper and cumin. For a final touch, he added two pickled plums on the side—both as a visual flourish and as a refreshing appetizer.

In under an hour, Kanade had crafted a beef curry dish so enticing it could bring tears of envy to the eyes of the proverbial "kids next door."

Just as he was admiring his handiwork, a crisp "jingle" rang out from the doorbell.

Kanade glanced at the clock, puzzled. Could it really be one of those kids lured over by the smell? He thought with a smirk as he headed to the door.

When he opened it, he found not a greedy child, but Shiina Mahiru—the "angel" herself—standing there with a steaming pot of miso soup cradled in her hands. The aroma of her cooking wafted over him, rich and inviting.

"This is…" Kanade started, blinking in surprise.

"You didn't make soup again, did you?" Mahiru interrupted, her tone as familiar and preachy as always. "You're always drinking that coffee—it's bad for your health. So, I, I..."

Her voice grew quieter, and her usual confidence seemed to waver.

"Anyway, just let me in already. It's tiring holding this," she huffed, cheeks faintly pink as she looked away.

"Oh, sorry! Come in, come in," Kanade said, stepping aside hurriedly.

Once inside, Mahiru placed the pot on the table, glancing at the beef curry Kanade had just finished preparing.

"So, what brings you here today?" Kanade asked, genuinely curious.

Since his relationship with Kaguya had ended, he'd resolved not to close himself off to others—especially to someone like Mahiru, who already held a special place in his heart. Even so, he found himself reluctant to initiate interactions too freely. His fear of misunderstandings, coupled with the lingering complexities of his emotions, kept him cautious.

Mahiru hesitated. She opened her mouth as if to answer but quickly closed it again. Her gaze shifted to the floor, and an awkward silence filled the room.

Unbeknownst to Kanade, Mahiru had seen him earlier that afternoon. He'd been chatting with another girl, laughing warmly, completely unaware that Mahiru was watching from afar.

Jealousy had gripped her chest, twisting painfully. Why does that girl get to laugh with him so freely? she had thought bitterly.

Mahiru wanted those moments for herself—moments of shopping together, walking home side by side, hearing Kanade's silly jokes, and seeing his warm smile directed solely at her. These simple joys, once hers without question, now felt painfully out of reach.

If I don't act now, I'll lose him forever.

The thought terrified her. The days she'd spent without him had been unbearable, and she realized she couldn't go back to that emptiness.

"I want to stay with you," Mahiru blurted out, her cheeks turning crimson. Her voice wavered as her eyes darted nervously around the room. "No... Is that not okay?"

Her heart pounded in her chest. She had never been this vulnerable before, never confessed her feelings so openly. She could barely bring herself to meet his gaze, terrified of his reaction.

Kanade stared at her, stunned. For a moment, he didn't say anything, and Mahiru felt her nerves tightening like a coiled spring.

Then, to her surprise, a gentle smile spread across his face.

"Then let's stay together," he said softly.

Mahiru's tension melted away, replaced by a wave of relief. "Really?"

Kanade nodded, his tone warm and genuine. "Of course."

Her heart fluttered. Today, it seemed, he was in an unusually good mood—willing to indulge her seemingly unreasonable request without hesitation.

If he had rejected her, as he might have in the past, Mahiru wasn't sure how long it would have taken her to recover.

"So, what did you cook today?" she asked, her tone lighter now as she glanced at the plates on the table.

"Beef curry," Kanade said, a touch of pride in his voice. "Want to give it a try?"

"Well, since you said so…" Mahiru replied, keeping her tone calm and composed, though inside, her heart leapt with excitement.

Bringing the miso soup had been a pretext, a small excuse to share a meal with Natsukawa Kanade. She had even deliberately skipped lunch, leaving her stomach empty in anticipation of his cooking.

Of course, the risk of her stomach growling audibly was embarrassing, but she rationalized it as a small price to pay. If it made Kanade feel sorry for her, wasn't that a win?

She had also been curious about his cooking. Knowing Kanade's current disciplined lifestyle, she was certain he prepared meals for himself regularly. She wanted to see how skilled he had become and, secretly, to experience the fruits of his effort.

If his cooking turned out to be excellent, it would be a delight. If it wasn't, Mahiru would eat it without complaint, finishing every last bite so as not to waste his effort.

And if, by chance, he wasn't taking care of himself and had lied about eating properly, she would scold him thoroughly and then take charge of making his meals. Far from finding this troublesome, Mahiru welcomed the thought—she would gladly do it every day if it meant being closer to him.

"If it doesn't taste good, I'll scold you harshly," she teased, though the gleam in her eye betrayed her playfulness.

"No problem," Kanade responded with a grin. "I welcome the Master's critique."

"Master?" Mahiru repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course. I stole all my cooking skills from you."

"Eh?" Her eyes widened in disbelief. "But I don't remember teaching you how to cook…"

"That's because I was learning by watching you secretly," Kanade replied matter-of-factly.

Mahiru gasped, covering her mouth. "Unbelievable! You learned just by observing?"

"Not exactly," Kanade admitted, shaking his head. "I tried cooking many times myself. At first, I made plenty of mistakes, but with enough practice, I started getting the hang of it."

He wasn't a natural-born genius or a prodigy like others she could think of. For Kanade, cooking had been a skill he built slowly and painstakingly, driven by one motivation: to express his feelings for the girl he once adored.

The process had been tedious and filled with errors, but the thought of her enjoying a meal he made had fueled his determination.

"Well then," Mahiru declared, folding her arms with a mock haughty air, "I must taste it carefully! If it's a failure, I won't let you graduate!"

Her exaggerated tone made him chuckle. Still, the thought that she cared enough to want to "grade" his efforts brought warmth to his heart.

"Understood, Master," Kanade said with a soft smile.

Mahiru's playful demeanor brought back fond memories of the closeness they had shared. If role-playing as her student helped lighten her mood, he was more than happy to oblige.

To Kanade, Mahiru's visit today carried an unspoken weight. He sensed her loneliness, her need for comfort, and her quiet longing for connection. In her eyes, he saw a contradiction—a girl who craved love but feared it just as deeply, who was desperate for affection but terrified of the possibility of losing it once she had it.

That delicate, fragile contradiction both moved and pained him.

Kanade understood that Mahiru might see him as a temporary salve, a panacea for her loneliness. Whether she thought of him as a source of genuine comfort or something to be discarded when she no longer needed him didn't matter to him.

If he could help soothe her sadness, even briefly, then it was enough.

That's what he was here for. That's what he wanted to be for her.