Can't We Skip Dating?

The next day, Akira unusually woke up early—meaning before 10 a.m.

Perhaps he had gotten used to the noble lifestyle of the Shinomiya household, and since Hayasak Ai had bought a lot of expensive ingredients—like it wasn't a proper dinner without them—Akira, who just wanted something simple and easy on the stomach but had no idea what Hayasak Ai's cooking skills were like, had stuffed most of the pricey ingredients into the fridge anyway.

Then, upon waking up, he brought them over to Miss Ichihara Yuuko's place.

There was no helping it. If those ingredients were left in his hands, they'd only go to waste; if left in the fridge, they'd slowly spoil. 

They had to be delivered into the hands of someone truly worthy.

As a result, after that lunch, he found himself even more unable to tolerate takeout food.

With alcohol lingering in his breath—because there was no way Miss Ichihara wouldn't drink during such a feast, and of course, there was no way Akira wouldn't get dragged into it—he returned home. 

Thankfully, for the sake of the precious ingredients, she had spared him from drinking until he passed out this time, and he managed to walk home upright.

But just as he got home and collapsed half-dead on the sofa with Kuro snoring contentedly on top of him, Utaha called ahead and let herself in through the door.

Seeing the scene before her and recalling Akira's death-row-expression the last time they parted, she lowered her head and said, 

"You haven't been drinking continuously since that day… have you?"

Lying face-up on the sofa's armrest, directly facing Utaha, Akira replied weakly, 

"It was an accident. I went over there again today, and ended up drinking again… But I couldn't just let all those good ingredients go to waste. There's a great cook over there."

Utaha stroked Kuro. "Good ingredients?"

"Yeah, someone else bought them…"

"All for that?"

"Wasting food is shameful."

"Hm—Mr. Ogiwara, you're unexpectedly frugal."

Utaha pulled ten thousand yen out of her bag and placed it on the table. "This is for the membership card. Starting today, I'm officially a VIP guest here, right?"

Akira lazily waved his hand. 

"Help yourself. You can go anywhere except the locked rooms. You can do anything except destroy or steal stuff. Oh right, the Wi-Fi password is six sevens."

Utaha glanced at Kuro sprawled on Akira, took a few steps back, and noticing Kuro had no intention of following her, turned and went upstairs alone.

The room upstairs was exactly as she had left it—her shirt still draped over the chair, the bedding still unmade. 

Utaha had every reason to believe Akira hadn't even stepped into this room since the day she left.

After putting her things down, she left again to look for the cats.

After all, dragging her laptop here just to work on her manuscript was entirely for the sake of the cats.

Kuro was clearly unwilling to move from Akira. 

As for Shiro, she had caught a glimpse of him when she came in, but since they hadn't really bonded last time and several days had passed, Shiro seemed a bit wary of her and turned tail to run upstairs.

She had to think of a way to lure Shiro over—she did pay for this, after all.

"Shiro, where are you hiding, meow meow meow…"

After checking one empty room, just as she was about to enter another, Utaha stopped.

This room was clearly occupied.

Aside from the basics like a wardrobe and a bed, what caught Utaha's eye were the two desks in the room.

One was a standard desk with a bookshelf. 

A computer sat on the desk, and the shelves held two rows of books—one row appeared to be novels, and the other had older-looking, traditional covers that weren't clearly legible from afar.

The other was a large writing desk, on which were traditional ink, brushes, and yellow talisman paper—quite out of place in an otherwise modern room.

Seeing the stack of yellow paper, Utaha thought of the charms she had on her and even imagined Akira sitting behind that desk drawing talismans—after all, authors tended to imagine scenes vividly out of habit.

Come to think of it, didn't Mr. Akira say she could go anywhere as long as the door wasn't locked?

Utaha wanted to take a closer look at the writing desk and the bookshelf. 

To be honest, she really liked the antique style of that desk and wanted to try sitting at it. She was also curious about Akira's reading preferences.

It was just looking. As long as she didn't touch anything, it should be fine, right?

With that thought, Utaha tiptoed in.

She looked first at the shelf with the old-fashioned covers. 

Most of the books were about youkai (supernatural creatures), and others covered topics like the I Ching and divination. 

Possibly because the original text was important, they were all in Chinese.

On the other shelf, the first dozen or so books were mystery and horror novels, followed by a few travelogues, then a mix of genres—including a gardening book, which reminded Utaha of the lush vegetation in the yard.

It was like Akira had once tried to care for the plants but eventually gave up due to laziness and let them grow wild.

Toward the end of the shelf, Utaha spotted her own work, Love Metronome.

Honestly, she wouldn't have been surprised even if it wasn't there—Akira didn't seem like the otaku type. 

Even with all those game cartridges on the TV stand downstairs, he didn't give off the vibe of someone who read romance light novels.

But behind Love Metronome was a full set of the Monogatari series.

…

Once he had more or less sobered up, Akira came upstairs, only to find that Utaha wasn't in the room he had prepared for her. 

Her personal items had been tossed casually on the bed, like she had only passed through briefly before disappearing.

…Hopefully nothing embarrassing was left lying around. He had been a little out of it earlier—maybe something happened and he hadn't noticed?

The thought made Akira nervous for once. He searched around, and finally found her—in his own room.

She was sitting at the writing desk, head down, engrossed in a book. She hadn't even noticed that the lighting had grown too dim to read comfortably.

Japan is a country that values etiquette and personal space. Even close friends might not casually pick up a book in your home without asking first. Normally, you'd at least ask.

And Akira and Utaha weren't even that close, so this behavior was… odd.

Akira sighed and turned on the light.

Utaha looked up slightly, saw him, then looked back down and muttered a simple, "Thanks."

After a few seconds, probably realizing that was a bit rude, she added, 

"You said we could go anywhere and do anything, although I do agree this was rather impolite. Um… if you mind, I'll apologize."

Her eyes never left the book as she spoke. Compared to her usual behavior, she seemed like a completely different person.

Thinking of the original novel's description of Utaha's behavior when reading this particular series—or just her reading in general—Akira shrugged.

When it came to reading, Utaha was truly someone who was, beyond imagination, foolish, arrogant, and pure.

"I don't mind. Honestly, I'm not really used to that rigid, formal Japanese etiquette. If I said make yourself at home, then I meant it. However…"

Akira hesitated for a moment.

"I saw you brought your laptop. Weren't you planning to work on your manuscript today?"

That finally provoked a real reaction from Utaha.

Like someone startled awake from a dream—she drew a sharp breath.

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