Heartbeats and Illusions

Kanade's Pov

As I stepped into my apartment, grocery bags in hand, I placed the ingredients on the counter and slipped into my apron, ready to start cooking. But just as I rolled up my sleeves, the doorbell chimed.

"No way…" I muttered, pausing mid-motion.

I opened the door to find a girl with waist-length blonde hair, dressed in casual yet effortlessly elegant clothes. Her gentle demeanor was as radiant as ever, a true embodiment of grace.

Shiina Mahiru stood there, a lunchbox in hand. Her eyes briefly landed on me, but her attention quickly shifted to the apron I was wearing.

"No way… is the meal ready already?" she asked, her voice tinged with disappointment, as if she had raced against the clock and lost.

I glanced at her, amused by her timing. "Actually, I haven't even started," I replied, holding up a gleaming kitchen utensil that caught the warm hues of the setting sun.

Mahiru's shoulders visibly relaxed, though her face betrayed a hint of guilt. She shifted her gaze away, unable to meet my eyes.

"Have you eaten?" I asked, my attention drawn to the lunchbox she clutched tightly.

Her response came hesitantly. "Not yet… not yet." Her voice wavered; her words uncertain. She wasn't lying, but it was clear she was holding something back. Perhaps she feared I'd think her behavior odd. Or worse—that I'd disapprove.

"At least you should eat before delivering food to someone else, right?" I teased lightly.

Her eyes widened slightly, and she seemed flustered. "It's not that… I just thought we could eat together," she murmured, her words trailing off.

I sighed dramatically, though a small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "Oh, if this keeps happening, all the cooking skills I've worked so hard to regain will go to waste."

I knelt down, pulling out a pair of bear-shaped slippers—the special ones reserved for her visits. Placing them neatly in front of her, I looked up.

"Since the food's ready, how about we eat together?"

Mahiru's face lit up, her disappointment melting away in an instant. "Of course!" she said, nodding eagerly. It was as if she had been waiting for me to say those words all along.

"Alright then, let me grab the plates—"

"Wait!" she interrupted, practically leaping into my path. Her cheeks flushed a soft pink as she waved her hands in mild panic.

"I-I can do it myself!" she exclaimed, thrusting the lunchbox into my hands before darting toward the kitchen. "Just wait at the table, okay? No peeking!"

I raised an eyebrow, suppressing a chuckle. "Got it, got it. No need to be so defensive," I said, shrugging. It was classic Mahiru—meticulously protective of her space, as though my mere presence in the kitchen would disrupt its sanctity.

I returned to the dining table, sitting down to wait. The faint sounds of clinking dishes drifted from the kitchen, and before long, Mahiru emerged, balancing an impressive array of dishes in her arms.

"Whoa, careful!" I said, springing to my feet as she wobbled precariously under the weight of a large pot of soup.

Together, we set the dishes down: Crisp, golden tempura. Juicy hamburger patties. Fresh cucumbers and lettuce arranged artfully alongside vibrant cherry tomatoes. And the pièce de résistance—a steaming pot of fragrant soup that smelled like it had been crafted by the gods themselves. The sheer quantity made my jaw drop.

Kanade scratched his head in disbelief. "You sure this isn't enough for three? Maybe even four people?"

Shiina Mahiru hesitated, her delicate fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of her apron. "B-Because… these were ingredients from last week. I had to use them up quickly… Summer heat, you know…" Her voice trailed off as her explanation lost steam, and a soft pink hue bloomed across her cheeks.

Kanade raised an eyebrow. Was she trying to justify this feast with such a blatant excuse? Her tone was too apologetic, her gaze too evasive—it was painfully obvious she wasn't being honest. And besides, the dishes on the table looked impossibly fresh, as if they'd been plucked straight from a cooking show.

He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms, and stared at Mahiru silently.

She squirmed under his gaze.

"Shiina," he finally said, breaking the tension. His voice was calm, but his expression carried an unusual seriousness. "Can I ask you a favor?"

Mahiru straightened up, her unease morphing into mild anxiety. "W-What is it?" she asked cautiously, unsure of what was coming next.

Kanade locked eyes with her. "If possible… could you prepare meals for me every day?"

The question caught her off guard. Her golden eyes widened, and her lips parted in surprise.

"I mean," Kanade added quickly, "you've already been doing it, haven't you? It just feels weird not to say it out loud. And don't worry—I'll cover the cost of all the ingredients. It's only fair."

Mahiru blinked, processing his words. Then, slowly, a warm smile spread across her face. "Of course," she replied softly.

Kanade exhaled, a weight lifting off his chest. "Thanks. Really. I… I owe you a lot, Shiina. And I've taken too much for granted in the past. But I'm done being that kind of person."

Mahiru tilted her head. "Eh? No, you don't have to—at least let me pay half…"

"Nope. Non-negotiable," Kanade said firmly. "If you insist, I'll just stop accepting your meals altogether."

Mahiru's eyes widened in alarm. "W-Wait! You can't do that!"

Kanade's voice softened, but his resolve remained unshaken. "Shiina, your money didn't just fall from the sky. It's not fair for you to keep covering everything. And it's not just the money—you're the one who's doing all the cooking, too. I'm the freeloader here."

Mahiru opened her mouth to protest, but Kanade cut her off.

"Let's be real—if anything, you'd be better off not spending all this time and effort on a social loser like me. Instead, you could—"

"Stop it!" Mahiru's voice, sharp and clear, startled him into silence.

Kanade blinked, stunned by the sudden outburst.

"You're not a social loser!" Mahiru declared, standing abruptly. Her amber eyes burned with an intensity Kanade hadn't seen before. "You useless person! Why do you keep saying such things? Do you think it's funny to put yourself down like that?"

Kanade gaped at her, too surprised to respond.

"You always act like this—talking to yourself, deciding everything on your own without thinking about how other people feel!" Mahiru continued, her voice trembling with emotion. "You're so much more capable than you give yourself credit for. You worked so hard to become the student council president! How can someone like that call himself a loser?"

She took a step closer, her expression softening, though her voice remained firm. "The Kanade I know isn't like this. He's stupid sometimes, sure, but he's also serious, hardworking, and always trying to be better. That's the Kanade I admire. Not… this version of you."

Mahiru's voice faltered, and for a moment, Kanade thought he saw tears glistening in her eyes.

"I hate seeing you like this," she whispered.

Kanade sat frozen, her words echoing in his mind.

"Didn't you think I was a social loser back then?" Natsukawa Kanade sighed, his voice carrying a mixture of resignation and confusion. He couldn't understand why Mahiru had suddenly become so angry.

Wasn't he just being honest about himself?

"No, that's… different," Shiina Mahiru said quickly, her voice shaky. Her amber eyes flickered with emotion, but she refused to meet his gaze. "At the beginning, I was just… I was just…"

She trailed off, her words caught in her throat.

Kanade tilted his head, watching her closely. Mahiru's hesitation felt heavier than usual, as though something deeper was bubbling beneath the surface.

Back then… she had called him a social loser, hadn't she? When they'd first met, she'd said those words to warn him. To keep him at a distance. But even so, he hadn't backed away. He'd kept moving closer, stubbornly finding his own way into her life.

Why couldn't she remember what he'd said in return?

Her thoughts spiraled, and suddenly, an unbearable realization hit her.

Mahiru's face drained of all color. Her body trembled, her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.

"Shiina?" Kanade frowned. Something wasn't right.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

When she didn't respond, Kanade stepped closer, gripping her shoulders gently. Her skin felt cold beneath his touch. "Mahiru, are you okay? What's going on?"

Mahiru opened her mouth, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, her eyes filled with tears, and her trembling grew worse.

Kanade panicked. "Wait here—I'll call 119—" He started to move, but a slender hand shot out and grabbed his sleeve tightly.

"Don't…"

"Huh?" Kanade froze, staring at her.

"Don't go," Mahiru whispered. Her voice was soft, almost inaudible, but it carried a desperate weight that made Kanade stop in his tracks.

And then she said something he didn't expect. "I'm sorry…"

Kanade blinked, stunned. "What?"

"I'm sorry, Kanade. I'm so sorry…" Her voice cracked, and tears spilled freely down her cheeks. She lowered her proud head, her usual grace and composure crumbling before him.

Kanade could only stand there, rooted to the spot, as he watched her break down. Her apologies came again and again, each one heavier than the last.

He wanted to ask why. He wanted to understand what had pushed her to this point. But the sight of her trembling shoulders and tear-streaked face left him speechless.

All he could do was be there for her, offering what little warmth he could.

His hands hovered in the air, hesitant. A part of him wanted to pull her close, to hold her in his arms and shield her from whatever pain she was feeling. But courage failed him.

In the end, Kanade could only stand there, helpless, as the angel wept. Her soft sobs filled the room, unrestrained and heart-wrenching, leaving him unsure of what to say or do.