286 Ladies and Gentlemen, I Adore Beauty
"Excuse me~~"
Murmuring softly, Masaki Kaori followed the couple into the apartment.
She and Miyamizu Mitsuha were only carrying small bags of light snacks, while Kyousuke walked ahead of them, hands full of groceries.
It was so tiny.
Kaori had known it was a studio apartment since she saw the building from the outside, but stepping inside and seeing the compact layout still made her mentally sigh.
On the way here, she'd let her imagination run wild—maybe it was some super-luxe tower where only corporate CEOs could afford to live, or a place overlooking the city skyline, full of politicians and celebrities.
She wouldn't have been surprised if it was.
After all, both Miyamizu Mitsuha, whose parents came from ancient, prestigious families, and Hojou Kyousuke, who had achieved so much in so many fields, were not exactly lacking in money.
She never expected the place where they lived together to be so… humble.
"I can't believe the most popular girl among the freshmen at Ochanomizu Women's University lives in a place like this."
"If all the people who adore you knew, they'd be shocked—well, I'm shocked too," Kaori said, slipping on the disposable slippers Mitsuha handed her.
And glancing around the small apartment.
There was no partition at all; you could see everything at a glance.
"What's wrong with this place? I think it's pretty nice," Mitsuha replied casually.
She set the snack bag on the low table in the living room, then headed to the kitchen.
She took out two round glass cups, filled them with ice from the fridge, poured in the tea they'd just bought, and brought them to the table.
"It's not that it's bad—it feels really cozy, actually. I just thought it'd be a little more luxurious, you know?"
"At our university, people call you a lady, Mitsuha. And with Hojou-san's status, if any of his crazy fans found out he lived here, he'd probably have a lot of trouble,"
Kaori murmured, holding the cold glass in her hand and watching the ice clink in the brown tea.
Technically it was an apartment, but compared to luxury condos, the security and amenities here were really basic.
But there was a lot of warmth.
It felt like a snug, little place for a young couple just starting out in Tokyo, working hard for their future.
The second-hand fridge and TV stand looked like they'd come from a thrift shop, and the shelf by the bed seemed handmade.
But the trinkets on top of it were all adorably charming.
"Hehe~ When I first met Kyousuke, he was already living here. Back then, he wasn't a famous author yet," Mitsuha said with a soft laugh, smoothing her skirt and sitting down cross-legged on the carpet.
She took another look around, following her friend's gaze.
There wasn't a speck of dust on the sofa or the table, no musty smell of anything old—it was clear this place had never been abandoned by its owner.
Meanwhile, Kyousuke was already in the kitchen, unpacking the groceries.
Now he stood at the sink, head lowered, carefully trimming the cilantro he'd already washed once.
His black eyes were focused, filled with that quiet, unwavering intensity he always had when it came to food.
The bright green cilantro grew even more delicate in his hands.
Any leaves or stems that didn't meet his standards were swiftly discarded.
Then he moved on to the potatoes, using the peeler he'd brought from home—he had a trick for peeling them without ever nicking his fingers.
Even though there was still peeling to be done, he carefully scrubbed off every last bit of dirt before slicing away the thin brown skin.
Mitsuha watched him with a gentle smile, her eyes practically shimmering.
'I wish my mom could see this—he's not just learned how to peel potatoes, he's figured out a way to do it without ever hurting himself.'
She felt like her heart might melt right there, watching the man who was making dinner for her.
"Ahh, I can't take it anymore. This is too sweet! It's like watching some punishment for all the single people out there," Kaori finally burst out, turning around to find Mitsuha staring unblinkingly at Hojou.
Her expression so full of love it might have flooded the whole room.
Hearing Kaori's outburst, Kyousuke looked up and met Mitsuha's eyes.
They exchanged a gentle, warm smile that made Kaori shiver—like she'd just been trapped in some couple's paradise and needed to call in backup.
Mitsuha was impossible to handle alone—she needed the seniors to come over and share the teasing duty, or else she'd be the one overwhelmed here!
She fidgeted with the phone in her pocket.
'I'm the first person to actually meet Mitsuha's boyfriend, and even got invited to their home for dinner.'
'I have to brag about this tomorrow—it's a once-in-a-lifetime chance!'
After sharing that sweet smile with Kyousuke, Mitsuha realized she wasn't alone in the apartment and turned back to Kaori with a slightly embarrassed grin.
"This apartment might look plain, but it's actually really special," she said, as if to make up for all that sugary sweetness.
"Oh?" Kaori's eyes lit up.
Was this some sort of juicy secret about how authors find inspiration?
Maybe each corner of the apartment held some hidden detail—a real-life example of the murder scene in The Devotion of Suspect X or something.
Mitsuha led her to the fridge at the far end of the kitchen—of course, she had to nudge Kyousuke out of the way with a playful little bump of her hip to make room.
The fridge?
Kaori's mind began to whirl.
She'd read plenty of mystery novels featuring fridges—maybe there was a secret door or something!
She stepped closer, her body casting a shadow over the fridge's silver-gray surface under the white kitchen light.
The shadow gave it a slightly ominous look, but the cute stickers and post-it notes on the door ruined the spooky atmosphere.
She hadn't really dared to stare too much at the huge bed—though in one glance she'd seen the adorable animal-themed bedding.
Now the fridge door was covered in matching stickers: pink and blue clouds, Doraemon, panda-eyed beavers, and Chibi Maruko-chan…
Definitely stickers any little girl would love, though they probably came from the fridge's previous owner.
"Cute, right? I spent ages collecting these," Mitsuha said proudly.
Back in her hometown of Itomori, she'd always wanted them, but you couldn't find them in the countryside.
In Tokyo, she'd had Eriri help track them down at some specialty shops.
"Hehe, they're adorable. So perfect for you, Mitsuha," Kaori replied, forcing a smile while turning away to glance at Hojou again.
He must have heard all of this—his grin was enough to make anyone green with envy.
Then she looked closer at the fridge door again and realized: the real highlight wasn't the stickers, but the sticky notes covered in tiny, neat writing.
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"'The momo we bought yesterday—I ate one, it was great. You should have the last one today,'" one note read.
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It was clearly a note, but seeing it printed out left Kaori Masaki a bit puzzled.
The next part, though, was instantly recognizable as Mitsuha's handwriting—graceful and elegant, the kanji flowing across the page like dancing fairies, full of a special charm.
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"Mm-hmm~ It really was sweet, but when I was out shopping last night, I saw a particularly delicious-looking cantaloupe, so I couldn't help but buy it."
"You'll have to eat it for me!"
———————————————————————
Below that, printed letters once again:
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"Yesterday, my mom sent fresh venison. I've already portioned it into slices perfect for pan-frying. You can pair it with the lime juice I prepped before bed."
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And then, in Mitsuha's elegant script:
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"Ah, too bad. I didn't get to eat it. I opened the fridge and it was completely empty. Such a shame~~ (╥﹏╥) (ᗒᗩᗕ))."
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Wow, Mitsuha could be such a child sometimes.
So the printed text was definitely from Hojou-san, right?
She'd always joked he should be careful not to end up with a math-genius wife, but now it seemed like he was the robot here.
The fridge door was covered with dozens of these notes, mostly about what foods they'd made for each other and little comments on how they tasted.
It was a bit odd—like one of them worked the night shift and the other the day—but even from these notes alone, the sweetness of their daily life was unmistakable.
Just black-and-white text, yet Kaori could practically see them feeding each other spoonfuls of food, smiling at each other, the air thick with saccharine affection.
Hojou's handwriting was meticulous, almost mechanical, but the concern shining through was impossible to miss.
Mitsuha's, on the other hand, was practically bursting with excitement, like she wanted to tape a photo of herself giggling onto the notes.
These two…
Kaori stared at the notes for a long moment before glancing back toward the kitchen.
Mitsuha had joined Kyousuke, standing side by side as they prepped dinner.
Mitsuha was carefully washing already spotless cabbage leaves, pulling them apart one by one in a scene straight out of a homemaker's manual.
Beside her, Kyousuke held a potato steady with one slender hand, deftly cutting it into neat pieces with his glinting silver kitchen knife.
They worked in perfect harmony.
The kitchen was so small only one person could comfortably stand at a time, yet it easily held the warmth of their relationship.
In that tiny space, a sweetness so thick it was nearly suffocating filled the air.
Too much. It was just too much!
If she didn't still have hopes for taking selfies with them, getting signed books, maybe even some limited-edition merch and a chance to taste what was rumored to be the best food in the world, Kaori might have turned and bolted right then.
Another minute here and she'd probably leave home, abandon her allowance, and chase after her own love story.
Doing her best not to disturb them, she shrank back and slipped out of the kitchen, taking a seat on the couch.
But she couldn't help it—her eyes drifted back to the two of them.
Ah, it was just too cute.
'I want a relationship like that. I want to get married someday!'
She couldn't resist.
She pulled out her phone, aimed it at them, and click!—the camera shutter snapped loudly, even over the water running in the sink.
Both of them paused.
Kyousuke hesitated for only a moment before going right back to chopping vegetables.
Mitsuha looked over at Kaori, who met her gaze with an unapologetic smile.
"You two just looked way too sweet—I had to capture the moment. I'll send it to you later. No need to thank me."
"Just make sure it doesn't end up online," Mitsuha said with a wry smile.
They'd already planned to take some group selfies, so she didn't mind this photo.
"Got it, got it. I know, don't worry~"
Kaori beamed as she tucked her phone away.
Treasure secured! She cracked open a bag of chips and started munching, her eyes darting around the room for more adorable details to soak in.
If she was going to suffer like this, she might as well get her fill—no point leaving half-satisfied.
The range hood hummed as Mitsuha finally stepped away from the kitchen, leaving Kyousuke to finish up.
She joined Kaori on the couch, chatting idly with her while texting back to her family.
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"Are you finally going to stay out all night?" —Yotsuba, her little sister.
"It's not even seven yet! Why is that the first thing you think of?"
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Yotsuba was such a dummy—never one to hide her ambition.
She was practically waiting for Mitsuha to marry off so she could inherit the family name.
All under the guise of wanting her big sister's happiness, of course.
She'd been nagging Mitsuha for the past week to come visit the women's dorm she lived in, as if she was desperate to shove her in the direction of marriage.
Honestly, it was dangerous to even consider it—there were so many vixens there who'd eat her alive.
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"Big sis, you've changed! You used to always come home before dark."
"You even warned me that the night streets of Tokyo were full of demons who'd snatch up little shrine maidens like me to eat them!"
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"??? That's something you just made up!"
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The Miyamizu family never told such tales to scare children—there were far scarier stories in their faith already.
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"I'm going to tell Hojou-nii about this!" —Yotsuba
(Photo)
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Mitsuha sent the picture Kaori had just taken.
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"!!! Big sis, that's not fair! I want to eat Hojou-nii's cooking too!"
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The phone rang almost instantly after, but Mitsuha just declined the call with a wry grin.
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Kyousuke, feeling hungry himself, moved quickly as he cooked.
"I didn't make much—just threw together a few simple dishes," he said as he carried out the last plate, his tone polite as always.
He almost felt nostalgic—if it were just him and Mitsuha here, he'd proudly declare that every dish was crafted just for her tastes.
There was ginger pork, the crispy meat glistening in a red sauce under the bright kitchen lights.
Nanban fried chicken, juicy fillets coated in golden batter and slathered with creamy tartar sauce, the air shimmering with the rich scent of hot oil and sweet-sour sauce…
"Wow!" Kaori couldn't help but exclaim.
The low coffee table that had been with Kyousuke and Mitsuha for three years was overflowing with dishes.
Soups and sides had to be moved to the bar counter to make room.
Even though she'd already prepared herself for this, seeing it in person still made Kaori's jaw drop.
She quickly snapped her mouth shut before she started drooling.
"Um, can I… start?" she asked tentatively.
"Please, don't be shy," Mitsuha said with a gentle smile.
She knew better than anyone how delicious Hojou's cooking was.
She'd seen him improve, bit by bit, by tasting the leftovers he always saved for her.
Back in the days when Kyousuke's cooking was still a work in progress, Mitsuha would occasionally find the fridge stocked with dishes she'd never even tasted—experiments he'd made to get it just right.
She didn't know how many failed meals he'd eaten himself before finally bringing those perfect flavors to her.
Kaori raised her chopsticks, hesitating—everything looked so good she didn't know where to start.
In the end, she decided to at least have a bite of rice to calm her growling stomach.
And then, her first real pick was… the nanban chicken!
Carefully thinking back, Kaori realized there hadn't been any store-bought mayonnaise among the ingredients she bought earlier.
That meant even the mayonnaise in the tartar sauce was homemade by Hojou-san.
This was a dish prepared from scratch—surely the ultimate creation of a master chef!
To Kaori, who was half in awe and half in disbelief at the concept of "craftsmanship," this felt like a sacred revelation.
She carefully picked up a piece of chicken, which wobbled under the generous dollop of tartar sauce.
Little bits of chopped egg added a unique texture and look to it.
"I'm digging in!" she whispered softly, opening her mouth wide and stuffing it in.
As her teeth bit down and her tongue swirled, the crispy exterior gave way instantly to juicy, flavorful meat that practically exploded in her mouth,
Tender, tangy-sweet, and mind-blowingly delicious. Every single taste bud seemed to come alive at once.
Tears of joy—no, drool—leaked from the corners of her eyes.
Was this what Mitsuha got to eat every day?
Kaori glanced over at her friend Miyamizu Mitsuha, catching the glint of smug satisfaction in her eyes.
Ugh, so unfair!
For a moment, Kaori entertained the idea of finding herself a chef boyfriend.
But her smart brain reminded her that even if she did, she'd never be as happy as Mitsuha was now.
'I need to make money!'
'I'll hire a bestselling author to ghostwrite my autobiography, commission a master artist to paint my portraits, and put together a kitchen crew of 108 chefs!'
In that instant, Kaori's resolve crystallized—she would no longer shy away from taking over the family business.
"So? Not bad, huh? Kyousuke's cooking?" Mitsuha asked, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"…," Kaori muttered, shooting her a glare before bowing her head and shoving another piece of chicken into her mouth.
"Eh? Not good? I was thinking of having Kyousuke pack up some snacks for you to take home."
"Miyamizu Mitsuha!!"
"Ahahahaha~~"
Seeing Kaori's desperate reaction, Mitsuha finally broke into laughter.
She then elegantly picked up a piece of meat and placed it into Kyousuke's bowl with a sweet smile.
He quickly followed suit, picking up the serving chopsticks to add more food to Mitsuha's plate.
Meanwhile, Kaori could only bury her head in her meal, finally understanding why Mitsuha had warned her to skip the snacks.
Once you tasted this cooking, no other food could compete.
With a partner like this, even if you only had a modest home, you could still live every day smiling from ear to ear.
After all, you could always turn over in bed and find him right there.
Kyousuke, whose tongue had only just healed from Mitsuha's playful bite earlier, quickly finished eating.
Having avoided any potentially harmful foods—and then gathered up the snacks they'd be taking home.
Three sets of snacks, to be exact.
Kaori's family lived in Hyogo, and she rented a place near the school with her close friends—who were also Mitsuha's acquaintances—so she needed to bring back plenty.
As for Mitsuha herself, she'd just gotten a message from Yotsuba on her phone, the little one demanding delicious treats to quell her righteous fury.
And the third portion was for himself, because he could already picture the scene waiting for him in the living room: Eriri and Kasumigaoka-senpai sitting on opposite sofas.
Senpai wouldn't say much, but Eriri would definitely erupt in fury—like a furious mom scolding a kid who'd snuck out of the house, hurling all sorts of random accusations his way.
At times like that, the only way to shut Eriri up was to fill her mouth with food.
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After the meal, Kaori, who had come empty-handed, left with two massive bags.
One full of Kyousuke merchandise and the other brimming with snacks, as she bid them farewell.
Part of her really wanted to stay and chat with the couple a bit longer, given how much fun she'd had today.
But she knew that if she overstayed, she'd only end up overwhelmed by their sweetness.
So much so that she might even find herself waking up in the middle of the night shouting, "I want to be in love too!"
Her mind would be haunted by visions of the two of them cooking together in the kitchen.
"Thanks for having me," she said formally, bowing politely.
"Anytime, next time, Mitsuha should bring you over again," Kyousuke replied with a warm smile.
"Not to this tiny apartment, though," Mitsuha teased. "Kyousuke has another place—exactly the kind of mansion surrounded by celebrities you were curious about."
The moment she heard that, Kaori felt her feet glued to the floor.
Her earlier thoughts of, 'Mitsuha, you'd better prepare for some serious payback tomorrow,' vanished instantly.
In any case, the ever-watchful third wheel had finally left.
The world remained unchanged—same earth, same two people, same bright lights—but the atmosphere had completely transformed.
It was thicker, more intimate, tinged with a sweet undertone that seemed to fill the air.
The two of them stood at the entrance like a husband and wife seeing off a guest.
But as soon as Kaori was out of sight, Kyousuke turned and wrapped Mitsuha in his arms, his lips already moving towards hers as if he didn't need to see to find them.
Mitsuha looked up at him with wide eyes, but before he could kiss her, she raised her right hand and pressed her index finger to his lips.
"Not now!" she scolded lightly.
What was he thinking? They'd just finished dinner, hadn't even brushed their teeth—it was embarrassing!
"I'll do the dishes. You go shower," she said briskly, assigning him his task.
He pouted in disappointment, making no attempt to hide how much he wanted her.
But he still grumbled out a quiet "Okay."
Seeing him sulk like a little kid, Mitsuha couldn't help but laugh.
She tiptoed up and pressed a firm, smacking kiss to his cheek—"smooch!"—the sound echoing in the hallway.
"Go on," she said in a gentle voice. "You smell like the kitchen."
"Okay" he replied, eyes brightening.
With the word "shower," his excitement shot through the roof—somehow, that promise made the idea of even a simple bath feel impossibly charged.
At the closet, he barely hesitated between his regular clothes and pajamas.
In a flash, he grabbed the pajamas—no room for doubt in a moment like this.
Watching him practically sprint to the bathroom, Mitsuha chuckled and shook her head.
Then she headed for the kitchen, pulled on some gloves, turned on the faucet, and began washing the dishes.
She knew exactly what Kyousuke was thinking, but… no.
She had gotten his first kiss three years ago, long before anyone else, and she was already far ahead of the others.
When it came to that final step, though, she wasn't sure if she wanted to be his first in everything.
If she was, would she feel tempted to use that advantage, to force Kyousuke to choose—between her and the others?
Those others weren't just girls Kyousuke liked.
They were her friends, too—Yukari-sensei, Sakura, Eriri…
If Kyousuke wasn't in their lives, they might not even want to keep living.
Eriri would cry until she couldn't breathe, Yukari would never find food that tasted good again…
As she rinsed the cherry blossom-patterned plates, memories of her time with those girls played in her mind.
She knew love was supposed to be selfish, but she just… couldn't bring herself to be.
That's why these little stolen moments always left her with a faint, guilty sense of shame.
And ever since her memories had returned, there was one thought that weighed heavily on her mind: Yamauchi Sakura… Sakura… Three years had passed. How was she doing now? Was she healthy?
That day, when she came to him with her questions, Miyamizu Mitsuha had finally understood it all after her memories returned.
Just like she had promised Sakura back then, she didn't share the conversation with Kyousuke.
But she knew—this was something she needed to talk to Sakura about properly.
The bathroom was just beyond a single glass door, and the steady sound of running water reached her ears clearly.
She could even see Kyousuke's silhouette moving inside.
Her hands kept scrubbing the dishes, but her mind was already drifting toward the bathroom.
Kyousuke's strong, beautiful body was vividly etched in her mind—bare, glistening under the warm water.
She imagined the slippery glide of soap over those well-defined muscles, the way her fingertips would feel tracing over his symmetrical six-pack, down, down to the very bottom…
'Ahhh~~' She could feel the heat in her face, and her whole body grew hot and restless.
Only then did she realize—Kyousuke wasn't the only one feeling that need tonight.
She, too, was yearning to be held in his arms, to be with him in that bed.
Truth be told, that longing had existed long before—at least three years ago, it had already bloomed.
Back then, she'd lie alone in this very apartment, staring at the darkened screen of her phone and seeing his face.
She would fool herself into believing that Kyousuke was right beside her, that he was always there, just out of reach.
It was a strange, almost magical feeling—no fear, because she knew him so well it was like knowing her own body.
Lying alone in that bed, she could look in the mirror and swear she wasn't alone at all.
He was there, always, sharing her every breath.
And now, finally, that chance was within her grasp.
Miyamizu Mitsuha felt her heart flutter with anticipation as she scrubbed the plates, the squeak of ceramic on her gloves somehow echoing her excitement.
Kyousuke, too, was probably thinking the same thing—she could feel it.
Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Kyousuke looked down at his own reflection and tried to calm himself.
Even as he reassured himself over and over, he knew things weren't going to go exactly the way he fantasized.
After all, this was real life—more than that, it was practically a romantic comedy.
If things ever got to the point where his… "little brother" had to take charge, he'd basically be living in Eriri's favorite kind of game.
But he wouldn't let that happen—not unless he could give Mitsuha the certainty she deserved.
He wouldn't claim her completely while still so unsure, while still unable to promise her anything.
He had a dream—of a big, bright house where everyone had their own space, their own time.
Where there was no need to fight, and even if there was, it would always end with peaceful laughter.
A place where, if anyone needed to run back home, there'd be a way to win them back.
Right now, that dream seemed laughably far away.
But it didn't matter. Because when he looked at Mitsuha, he could see that glimmer of hope.
As long as he could forge bonds with each and every person that could never be broken—then someday, that perfect world would come true.