Can't We Skip Dating?

Utaha's cat addiction had flared up again.

To be precise, it was the sense of redemptive comfort she had felt during her first visit that had left a deeply ingrained impression. 

So every time she encountered writer's block, she would recall that feeling and start itching to grab her laptop and head over.

It was like how people know that drinking helps vent emotions, so whenever they're upset, they want to drink.

And right now, she really did need an outlet.

Because her parents didn't know, she had no close friends, and she no longer wanted to talk to Tomoya about anything.

In fact, there was still one more person who could understand and listen—Eriri. With Tomoya out of the equation, there were no longer any points of conflict between the two. 

Their personalities had certain overlaps as well. Otherwise, how could they have ever pulled off so many comic dialogue skits together?

Most importantly, as fellow creators, Eriri could fully empathize with Utaha's pain.

When Utaha said, "Maybe I'll accept the deal," Eriri had tried to steady her using her feelings for Tomoya—not from a moral high ground, but from empathy.

What could be more noble than ideals and passion?

If not for that, what reason did Tomoya have to be so "dense" all this time?

It was simply that all his attention and passion were directed forward, leaving no room for anything else in his eyes.

And if just that little bit of "dense" was enough to support the completion of a dream, wasn't that something admirable?

Ah, human self-preservation...

Utaha didn't want to talk much with Eriri. Although there was some compatibility between them, their relationship wasn't close enough yet to burden the other with her troubles. 

And besides, she was inherently a solitary person. The result of her one and only moment of opening up had been... far from comforting.

So cats were better—simple and straightforward. Just pay money, no need for any complex emotional entanglements.

As for the excuse she gave her parents for going out, she said she'd found a cat-themed hotel she really liked, and wanted to go there to relax when struggling with writing.

It was a reasonable request, and her parents were quite supportive. After all, when she suffered due to writing, there wasn't much they could do to help. 

If their daughter had found a way to soothe her mood on her own, of course they wouldn't object.

Carrying her bag with the laptop inside, Utaha input the code at Akira's gate and walked in.

She wasn't rude enough to show up unannounced. 

She had already emailed him beforehand, and Akira's reply had simply been: "Bring your key and let yourself in."

She felt Akira was getting lazier—or maybe just revealing more of his true nature.

But the moment she stepped into the entryway, after passing through the garden and opening the door, Utaha was struck by a strong sense of surprise.

If she hadn't opened the door with her own key and seen the cat walkways on the walls, she would've thought she had come to the wrong place.

Because the entire atmosphere had changed.

When she'd been here before, the house felt empty—clean and well-kept, with a cat angel roaming about, yes—but still hollow, as if it were just a building and nothing more.

But now, it felt like coming home around dinnertime.

From the direction of the kitchen came the sound of cooking and the aroma of food. Just that one, simple presence changed everything. 

Even the chilly air from the AC felt warmer.

"I'm intruding."

Utaha changed into indoor slippers and stepped inside.

When she saw Akira sitting on the couch with his legs crossed, reading a newspaper, she nearly mistook him for her father waiting for dinner.

Then Akira cheerfully asked, "Don't I look like the head of the household waiting for dinner?"

Utaha glanced toward the kitchen and asked, with a subtly disgusted expression, "Then what am I? The child coming home from school?"

"That's right~"

"...Until today, I could never have imagined Mr. Ogiwara being so into playing house. So should I call you 'Father' now? Or maybe something more intimate... like 'Daddy'?"

"Either works, either works," Akira replied even more gleefully. 

"As long as you're willing to play, tonight's lodging and cat fees are on the house~"

Utaha's subtle expression turned to full-on disdain, but her words remained remarkably obedient: 

"Understood. Then I'll go greet 'Mother' first."

At this moment, Akira still didn't realize how serious things were becoming. 

He was simply surprised by how cooperative Utaha was, and continued to enjoy the fun of make-believe.

Until Utaha walked to the kitchen doorway, bowed respectfully, and called out:

"Mother."

A startled shriek followed by a minor kitchen fire promptly erupted.

…

It had all started as a random whim. 

When he heard that Utaha was coming over, Akira had thought it might be fun to mess with her, so he went out of his way to buy a newspaper to look the part. 

That was the dry, boring kind of fun rich people had.

But it was only supposed to be a one-time joke when she walked in. He had never expected it to escalate. He certainly hadn't expected to end up cornered like this.

"Father, I never knew Mother's cooking was this good. Can I come home for dinner again in the future?"

At the dinner table, Utaha beamed happily, holding her rice bowl like a child, and said something that hurt to hear.

It wasn't a metaphor—Akira's chest genuinely ached.

As for "Mother" on the other side of the table, back in the kitchen, she had already burned a grilled snack out of sheer shock. 

And now, she even dropped her chopsticks with a loud clatter.

"Miss Kasumigaoka… may I ask why you're calling me that…?"

"As you can see, we're playing house," Utaha replied with utmost seriousness. "At Mr. Ogiwara's request, I'm playing the role of the family's child today."

"So it really was a game, ha, ha, ha—"

Miss Nanami, nearly broken by this game, let out three dry chuckles, then turned to Akira and asked, "Then may I ask… why are we playing this kind of game?"

Akira didn't even need to reply—Utaha spoke up first, her posture still polite:

"If I didn't play along, I'd have to pay to stay here tonight. Money's a little tight lately, so naturally, I'd like to save where I can."

"Ahhh—so it's about saving money—"

Nanami gave a knowing smile.

Then, with the energy of slapping down three credit cards, she roared in a furious Kansai accent:

"Even if you're trying to save money! This game is way too weird!!"

"I think it's weird too," Utaha nodded. 

"But after all the help I've received from Mr. Ogiwara, even someone as shameless as me wants to return the favor a little. 

Given the gap in our positions, it's hard to find a chance to repay him… so even if it's a strange request like this…"

Akira couldn't take it anymore. Even though everything Utaha said was true—completely honest, without the slightest exaggeration or misleading twist.

Even playing house, in a sense, did fulfill Akira's desire for "repayment."

But staying silent any longer would've felt like giving up on life.

He summoned the dignity of a head of household and banged the table with his fingers: "No talking while eating!"

Nanami was a good girl. Utaha was also a "good girl." So both of them actually fell silent.

Akira breathed a sigh of relief, thinking the matter was settled.

But just after the meal ended, Nanami suddenly realized something.

"Wait… is Miss Kasumigaoka staying over tonight?"

"Of course. I've always been a well-behaved child—and good children don't stay out all night."

The air went quiet for several seconds.

"...Huh?"

Nanami tilted her head.

Her expression was completely broken.

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