“Tatsuya-kun, you can come up after you finish clearing the guest tables.”
“Got it.”
Wedding planner Matsumoto Honoka tapped me on the back and called out to me.
“Today’s ceremony was a huge success! The look on the guests’ faces when they tasted the main dish, Rossini! And the triumphant expressions on the bride and groom’s faces! It was amazing!”
Honoka-san was so happy that the wedding had gone well, her smile never faded. Seeing her like that, the other bridal staff also wore happy smiles.
This small, homey wedding venue is where I work part-time. The highlight of this venue is the cuisine prepared by Honoka-san’s father, the chef. The dishes are made with ingredients sourced from dungeons, and the taste is nothing short of exquisite. Occasionally, I get to eat some of the staff meals, and they’re so delicious that I go beyond smiling—I just can’t help but make a serious face.
By the way, dungeon ingredients are generally quite expensive. They can’t be mass-produced, and gathering them is a life-risking endeavor. When you add their incredible taste to the mix, it’s no wonder they come with a high price tag.
Yet, this wedding venue offers these dungeon ingredients at a surprisingly affordable price.
“This time, my mom brought back a lot of ingredients, so there’s plenty for the staff meal too. Look forward to it!”
“Seriously!? Does that mean…?”
“Of course, the Rossini is included too!”
“Yes!!”
I couldn’t help but pump my fist in excitement. The food looked so good that I had to fight back drool while carrying it to the tables. And now, I get to eat it. Honestly, the staff meals are becoming more of a motivation than my paycheck. A high schooler like me would rarely get the chance to eat something like Rossini otherwise.
Honoka-san’s mom gathers the ingredients, and her dad cooks them. That’s why they can offer such high-quality food at a low price.
“There’s even some dungeon pufferfish, so you can get your hopes up.”
“Pufferfish!? Is it really okay for a high schooler like me to eat something that fancy…?”
“Haha, you might develop a refined palate and have a tough time later in life. If that happens, you can always come work for us. You’ll get to eat my dad’s cooking anytime.”
“That’s an incredibly tempting offer. Oh, by the way, this might be a bit presumptuous, but would it be possible to take some home? A friend is coming over today, and I’d love to let them try it too.”
“Sure, I’ll ask my dad for you. Let’s make your friend fall in love with our food too!”
Honoka-san didn’t show even a hint of annoyance at my request and walked off to the pantry with a smile. She was probably going to ask her dad for permission.
◇
“I’m home.”
When I opened the door to my apartment, a pleasant scent wafted into my nose. It was a slightly sweet smell—maybe from shampoo or fabric softener. Definitely not the kind of scent you’d expect from a single guy’s apartment.
There was no response, so I thought maybe she had gone out, but then I noticed the blanket on the bed was bulging, and a glimpse of golden hair was peeking out. On the desk was a half-finished can of cola and a partially eaten bag of chips.
It seemed like Suzuka-san had spent the whole day lazing around. Meanwhile, I’d been working part-time since morning. Maybe this is how husbands feel when they have lazy stay-at-home wives.
A while ago, I might have been flustered at the idea of a girl sleeping in my bed, but now, that feeling was gone. After all, there was no way anything risqué could happen.
“This is kinda annoying.”
Feeling a bit irritated, I stuck my hand under the blanket as payback. I had no idea what position Suzuka-san was sleeping in, so I wasn’t sure where I was touching, but my hand brushed against her soft skin.
“…………!!! ………………♡♡♡♡♡!!”
The blanket twitched a few times before I pulled my hand away. I could hear heavy breathing from under the covers, but I ignored it and started preparing dinner.
As per Honoka-san’s dad’s reluctant permission, I lightly heated the beef tenderloin in a pan and plated it. He had warned me that reheating might alter the taste, but honestly, neither Suzuka-san nor I have such refined palates that we’d notice the subtle differences.
After setting the Rossini, pufferfish carpaccio, and some bread I brought back on the table, Suzuka-san suddenly bolted upright.
“!!!”
“Whoa, you scared me! Suzuka-san, what’s wrong?”
With her messy hair and sleepy eyes, Suzuka-san looked around groggily before speaking.
“I had… the most erotic dream ever.”
Are you a middle school boy or something?
“There’s something that looks super delicious here.”
“Busy with both your libido and appetite, huh? Today, my part-time job had a staff meal, so I got special permission to bring some home. Of course, I brought some for you too.”
“Seriously!? You’re a god! I’ve only eaten snacks today, so I’m starving!”
Despite just waking up, her appetite seemed fully intact as she hopped off the bed and sat down at the table.
“…”
Her obedient demeanor reminded me of a Golden Retriever, and without thinking, I reached out and patted her head.
“…What’s your deal?”
“Nothing, you’re just kinda cute.”
“Huh? …Shut up.”
Her words were sharp, but her cheeks were slightly red. She must have been embarrassed.
Refocusing, I picked up my chopsticks. There were no fancy knives or forks in this apartment.
“Well then, let’s eat.”
“Let’s eat!”
As I pressed the chopsticks into the dish, the foie gras and fillet meat cut through as smoothly as warm butter. I swallowed my saliva and took a bite.
“…No way. This is way too good for a high schooler to be eating.”
The moment I chewed, a burst of juicy, delicate umami filled my mouth. The rich, creamy foie gras followed, and the aroma of the black truffle, matured to perfection, was tied together by the exquisite red wine sauce. It was delicate yet overwhelmingly delicious.
“…This is insane. Insane, insane, insane.”
Suzuka-san was muttering the same thing. Her vocabulary was nonexistent, but I could tell she thought it was delicious.
Apparently, food that’s too good can rob people of their words. In the end, Suzuka-san and I finished our dinner without any real conversation.
