Remnants of a Fleeting Childhood Dream

As a rhythmic chop, chop, chop filled the air of the dining room, Mahiru felt a sense of warmth and contentment as she worked on her homework. While she typically completed her homework in her room, on the days when Koyuki was there, she often did it in the dining room, enjoying the sounds of Koyuki cooking.

Truth be told, Mahiru could easily finish her homework quicker, but she found comfort in completing it slowly when accompanied by the sounds of the kitchen—the slicing of the knife, the sizzling of ingredients, the bubbling of boiling food, and the pleasant aromas that wafted over as the cooking progressed. More than anything else, she loved that atmosphere.

Besides, Mahiru knew that here, Koyuki would notice her hard work and offer words of praise.

Sensing Koyuki occasionally glancing in her direction, Mahiru continued tackling her homework with high spirits. Slowly, very slowly, she would work until Koyuki's dish was ready.

Despite her hunger, she found such moments enjoyable and wished they could last longer. After all, it would extend the time she spent with Koyuki.

"Ojou-sama, it's ready." "Okaay!"

Mahiru finally heard Koyuki's voice and gleefully closed the notebook lying on the table.

Towards the end, even though she had already finished and was pretending to still be working—an act clearly undeserving of praise—she rationalized that since she was actually done, it was no issue.

With a secret smile, she meticulously gathered the eraser shavings and threw them into the trash bin. If she didn't clean up properly, Koyuki would scold her when lining the table. She collected her notebook filled with written kanji and math worksheets, setting them neatly on the living room table.

Then, she walked into the kitchen with a smile, only to find Koyuki removing her apron, wearing a gentle smile of her own.

"You worked hard on your homework again today." "Yep!"

Clearly, Koyuki had been watching her after all.

Then, as the woman who balanced roles as a housekeeper and tutor, she whispered softly as she folded her apron. "Please go wash your hands. I shall set the table in the meantime." Koyuki maintained her soft smile as she looked at Mahiru.

Without hesitation, Mahiru nodded and headed to the sink. Stretching to reach it, Mahiru washed her hands and took a brief glance at the array of dishes being set on the dining table, her cheeks relaxing into a smile.

It seemed today's menu was Japanese cuisine.

While her peers weren't the biggest fans of Japanese food, Mahiru personally loved its flavors. Although she also enjoyed Western food, when it came to a sense of comfort, Japanese dishes—with their calming tastes—always made her feel at ease.

Koyuki would often say, "It's important to expose yourself to various flavors from a young age to develop your palate." Consequently, she prepared a wide range of dishes, but Mahiru had always maintained a special fondness for Japanese cuisine.

After washing her hands thoroughly, Mahiru took her seat at the dining table, and Koyuki sat down directly across from her.

However, there was nothing in front of Koyuki.

Though Mahiru yearned to share even a single meal with her, Koyuki remained, strictly speaking, a 'housekeeper,' not a family member.

Anytime Mahiru hinted at the desire to eat together, Koyuki would politely but regretfully decline, leaving Mahiru to dine alone.

If only we could eat together…

But Mahiru understood that expressing this selfish wish would put Koyuki in an awkward position, so she never voiced it. With a sigh, she gazed at the dishes arrayed before her on the table.

Today's menu was strictly Japanese: the usual rice and miso soup, tamagoyaki made with dashi, a simmered dish of chicken and vegetables, and spinach dressed in sesame.

"Everything looks tasty," Mahiru uttered in awe.

"I put extra effort into today's meal, you see. Please enjoy it while it's still warm."

"Okay!"

Nodding, Mahiru clasped her hands together and politely said, "Thank you for the food," before gently sipping the miso soup. The warm, comforting taste gradually seeped into her body, making her feel as though she were enveloped in a cozy warmth from the inside out. This was her favorite flavor, a taste that brought her a sense of happiness.

As Mahiru quietly savored her food, one small bite at a time, Koyuki watched her with a warm smile.

✧ ₊ ✦ ₊ ✧

While helping Koyuki clean up the dishes, Mahiru voiced a question she had been pondering. "Why are, you so good at cooking, Koyuki-san?" Her words were punctuated by erratic pauses, as if stumbling over her words.

Koyuki's cooking was exceptionally good. While it felt wrong to compare it to cafeteria food, Mahiru couldn't help but wonder, since Koyuki's meals always matched her tastes better than her school's food.

"You see, I've lived many more years than you, Ojou-sama, and have prepared meals for my daughters every day. One naturally becomes skilled at it as a mother."

"So, is my mother, also good at cooking?"

At that innocent question, Koyuki's smile seemed to tighten for a moment. But she quickly returned to her usual gentle expression and looked at Mahiru kindly.

"… I'm not so sure about Sayo-sama," Koyuki answered. "While she is adept at handling various tasks effortlessly, I have never actually seen her cook."

"Oh…okay." Mahiru immediately pulled back.

If Koyuki hadn't seen her cook, then there was nothing Mahiru could do.

Even just once, I wanted to have some.

Barely showing her face, a woman of few words—always rushing from place to place. That was Mahiru's mother.

When Mahiru learned that in most families, one or both parents usually did the cooking, she couldn't hide her surprise. It was only later when Mahiru had a better grasp of her situation and surroundings that she realized having a housekeeper wasn't the norm for everyone.

"Ojou-sama, would you prefer food prepared by Sayo-sama?"

In response to Koyuki's question, Mahiru shook her head. "Mother doesn't, come home… I don't want to bother her."

The number of times Mahiru had seen her mother could be counted on one hand. It was once or twice a year at most, and even when their paths crossed, her mother never acknowledged her, ignoring Mahiru for her own tasks before leaving the house once again.

While Mahiru's father was seemingly busier with work than her mother, his actions were much the same; avoiding eye contact and leaving almost as soon as he returned.

From as long as Mahiru could remember, it had always been Koyuki who took care of her and her daily needs, and she had never been left wanting for anything essential. Yet, the only emotion that seemed to grow was loneliness.

Mahiru knew better than anyone that asking to eat her mother's cooking, when she felt she'd been abandoned by both her parents, would never bear fruit. Moreover, she was too afraid of being rejected to even request it.

Koyuki looked at Mahiru, who was softly shaking her head while her hair swayed gently. Koyuki's eyebrows drew downward in a concerned frown.

"Um, I love your cooking, Koyuki-san. It's delicious every day and it always makes me happy. So, it's fine."

She didn't want to make Koyuki sad, but seeing her attempt at reassurance only darkened Koyuki's expression further. Mahiru was at a loss for what to do. However, Koyuki's somber look disappeared almost instantly, replaced by her usual warm smile. Mahiru was surprised by the change in her expression, and what Koyuki was thinking remained a mystery to her. The only certain thing was that Koyuki had donned a gentle smile to put Mahiru at ease.

"Thank you very much, Ojou-sama. I'm happy to hear you say that." "Um, it's not, flattery? It's really delicious."

"Yes, I know. You always seem to greatly enjoy your meals, so I understand."

"Phew."

Mahiru really thought Koyuki's cooking was delicious from the bottom of her heart, so she would have been troubled if Koyuki had misunderstood her.

While feeling relieved to see Koyuki return to her usual cheerful self, Mahiru watched as Koyuki packed the leftovers from dinner into tupperware containers. They would serve as Mahiru's breakfast the next morning.

Obviously, Koyuki couldn't come over to her house early every morning, so she always prepared the next day's breakfast this way.

Thanks to her, Mahiru never had to worry about her breakfast. Nevertheless, eating alone each morning was a lonely affair. She couldn't bring herself to voice such a selfish desire and swallowed the emptiness she felt each day.

"Oh, how about this? Why don't we cook together sometime, Ojou-sama?" After finishing the preparations for the next morning, Koyuki suggested warmly, noticing Mahiru intently watching her cooking.

The offer caught Mahiru completely off guard; before, she'd been strictly told never to go near the stove because it was dangerous.

Mahiru's eyes widened even further as she looked up at Koyuki. "Can we really?"

"We can, as long as you promise to only do it when I'm around and watching."

"I–I promise!" For Mahiru, it was a simple enough promise to make. She had no intention of breaking it, especially when doing so might result in Koyuki leaving, a thought she couldn't bear. Besides, the idea of learning from Koyuki made her happy, unlike the notion of fumbling around on her own.

"Wonderful. Once you learn how to cook, you'll be less likely to face difficulties in the future."

"'Difficulties'…?"

"Well, for example, if you ever decide to live alone once you're older." "But I am already?"

"…I mean when you're an adult, living independently. What would you do for food if you can't cook?"

"…I'd be hungry?"

"Precisely, you would be hungry. What should you do to prevent that?" "Umm, buy some food…?"

If she couldn't cook on her own, Mahiru could only think of a few options: eat out, bring food home, or hire someone like Koyuki.

"While buying food can be a good option, they might not have what you're looking for. What would you do if you wanted to eat your favorite dish?"

"…Make it myself?"

"Correct. You have a lot of favorite dishes, Ojou-sama. Don't you think it would be fun to be able to make them yourself?"

"I do!"

Although the idea of properly cooking was hard for Mahiru to envision at this point, she felt confident that she would learn if Koyuki taught her. She would certainly enjoy being able to cook all sorts of dishes like Koyuki. After all, despite having a variety of things prepared for her each day, Mahiru always looked forward to the meals Koyuki prepared. She figured that her satisfaction would only grow if she could cook such meals herself. Mahiru believed this sentiment from the bottom of her heart, and when she energetically affirmed this, Koyuki also seemed relieved and flashed a soft smile.

"I'm glad you've also taken an interest in cooking, Ojou-sama. I shall teach you whatever I can."

"Even fluffy omurice?"

"Absolutely. Omurice, beef stew, miso soup, and even today's stew. I'll make sure you learn how to make them all, Ojou-sama."

"Really?"

"Indeed."

Hearing that she could recreate the dishes crafted by Koyuki's magical hands on her own, Mahiru's heart was filled with excitement.

"Will I be able to make food for Father and Mother, too?"

If I can make all sorts of dishes…

Would my parents, who never look my way, pay even a little attention to me? I wonder if we would even be able to sit down and eat with each other.

With such expectations, yet without putting it into words, Mahiru asked Koyuki that question.

While maintaining her smile, Koyuki lowered her eyes ever so slightly and stroked Mahiru's head.

Koyuki would usually never touch her, so Mahiru closed her eyes and fully savored the pleasant sensation of Koyuki's gentle palm tracing through her hair.

"Yes, I believe that you will be able to make it for them someday." "Okay, I'll do my best!"

Mahiru responded with all the enthusiasm and energy she could muster, to which Koyuki gently scolded her, saying, "It's already late; you mustn't shout." With a faint hope that by doing her best with a smile, she might catch her parents' attention, Mahiru decided to look forward to the cooking classes.

✧ ₊ ✦ ₊ ✧

Well, my idea of things never ended up working out to be that convenient of a story.

Mahiru silently gazed at the page lined with her much younger handwriting, and while being careful not to alert Amane, who was sitting next to her, she let out a barely audible sigh.

It was to be expected, but even after she learned how to cook, Mahiru's parents never paid attention to her. Rather, even if there were opportunities for them to interact, since her parents had no interest in listening to what she had to say, it would be pointless to let them know.

Koyuki had likely reported it to them. If they had properly read those reports, they would've known that Mahiru had learned to cook.

At best, they probably skimmed through it. Now that she'd grown up, Mahiru felt a sense of resignation and accepted her suspicion as truth. But for the younger Mahiru who had put in so much effort, not being acknowledged was a harsh reality to live in.

Those letters, blurry from some liquid, conveyed the feelings of Mahiru back then more eloquently than anything else.

I was so young…and foolish.

Back then, she'd thought that if she tried hard enough, her parents would at least look her way. But now, knowing their attitudes and stances towards her, Mahiru could assert with absolute certainty that those expectations were foolish. Still, she understood it was impossible for the child she was to understand this.

As a result, with her naive hopes dashed, she'd written this diary while crying inconsolably. It was by no means a laughing matter.

I had fostered false expectations on my own, felt like I had been betrayed on my own, and in the end, suffered and cried on my own. That was all.

Koyuki hadn't lied.

She had said Mahiru would be able to cook for them, but she hadn't said a thing about them ever eating it. Judging from Koyuki's perspective, she had likely worded it that way because she knew it would never happen. While that may sound cruel on the face of it, Mahiru was still grateful to Koyuki.

Although Koyuki knew the nature of Mahiru's parents, there was only so much she could do. Given her position as an employee, she likely had no better option, but she still didn't have it in her to break the heart of a child still clinging to her parents. She must have thought that learning the truth after growing up would be less damaging.

Thanks to Koyuki, Mahiru learned to cook many dishes, and even the dishes she wasn't taught, she could now make easily by following a recipe. Her skills had been honed to that extent. Furthermore, Koyuki had also taught her how to do general housework, likely stemming from the kindness of her heart, to make sure she could freely live on her own in the future.

Koyuki had her own family.

At the end of the day, she was a stranger—it wasn't as though they would always be together. Mahiru wasn't her child, she was just a child that Koyuki was paid to take care of. Knowing that the day would come when they would part, Koyuki had educated Mahiru from a young age so that she wouldn't face any struggles down the line.

Now, Mahiru believed that Koyuki acted more like a parent than her real parents ever had.

…I truly am grateful.

Thanks to Koyuki, Mahiru learned how to live on her own. And most importantly, she found someone precious to her.

"Make sure you grab the one who makes you happy by the stomach."

Mahiru indeed recalled those kind, sincere words, stripped of formalities and employment considerations, that Koyuki had told her just once.

I found him, Koyuki-san.

Someone who only looked at her, who only loved her, who treasured her, and who would be happy with her. She had found him.

I hope we meet in person again someday. If we do, I'll introduce you.

Mahiru traced her fingertips over the voice of lament her younger self had left on the page.

Someday in the future, someone special who will look only at you will enter your life.

Holding back tears as she remembered her younger self facing the diary, Mahiru quietly sent her past self a message of encouragement to keep going.