Takoyaki Party

When I stepped into Kasahara’s room, I couldn’t help but notice a faint sweet scent, unlike my own place.

It stirred a slightly strange feeling in me, but if I messed up here, I’d lose the right to badmouth Hayashi’s ex, so I quietly settled into a corner of the living room.

I didn’t have any particular thoughts about Kasahara’s room. I was too focused on keeping my mind blank to form any opinions.

“Why’re you all the way over there in the corner?”

“Don’t mind me.”

Right now, I’m blending into the wall. Nobody talks to a wall, right? So, don’t mind me. In other words, just ignore me.

“You’re being weird again.”

“Weird? What’s weird about this?”

“Haha! Your quirks weren’t exactly rare back in high school, were they, Yamamoto-kun?”

“Wait, that’s how people saw me?”

I was mildly shocked.

The one glaring at me as I hung my head was Hayashi.

“…What’s your deal?”

“Nothing.”

Hayashi said that and left me curled up in the corner, heading toward the kitchen where Kasahara was. For a while, the two of them were happily messing around, preparing the takoyaki.

Soon enough, a small table was set up with a takoyaki grill and various ingredients.

“Sorry for not helping with the prep and just sulking in the corner.”

“It’s fine. I had fun with Meg anyway.”

“…Well, you guys do take care of me a lot.”

“Whoa, Meg’s being all tsundere!”

“Huh?”

“Eek, Meg’s glaring at me!”

Kasahara’s no-damage act. What’s with that? It doesn’t even feel like an act—she genuinely seems unfazed. “…That’s a lot of ingredients.”

The table was loaded with all sorts of stuff: the classic octopus, wieners, pickled radish, even cucumbers. “Are we really putting these in takoyaki?”

“Yup. You just thought, ‘It’s not takoyaki without octopus,’ didn’t you, Yamamoto-kun?”

“Yeah.”

“Haha, so honest! …But don’t you think it’s kinda fun? Since the batter hides what’s inside, it’s exciting not knowing what you’ll bite into until the last second.”

“…Uh, maybe? I dunno.”

“Just say it already. You’re not the type to play around with food, are you?”

Hayashi said it like she was scolding me.

“You don’t seem like you’d be into that either.”

“Yeah, well… I wouldn’t do this with anyone other than you and Akari.”

“…Meg.”

Don’t make me cry, you jerk.

Hayashi, who once went through hell with domestic violence, is relying on us. Like Kasahara, I felt my eyes sting a little.

“…That’s not something I’d have expected to hear from you since high school.”

I said it.

Back then, she used to hate my guts. Knowing she feels this way about me now made me happy. That’s what I meant to convey. The fact that it didn’t come out that way at all is just because my personality’s so twisted.

“…What’s that supposed to mean?”

It was my usual snarky remark, but today, Hayashi didn’t roll her eyes or tease me back. She just glared at me.

“Nothing.”

As expected, Hayashi wasn’t going to give me any answers.

“Alright, shall we get this takoyaki party started?”

Kasahara clapped her hands as if to reset the mood, and our takoyaki party began.

 Playing with food isn’t really my thing, like Hayashi said.

 But with the batter guaranteeing a baseline flavor no matter what you swap in, it didn’t seem like something I couldn’t handle if I just accepted it for what it was.

…If there’s one thing I’m finding hard to stomach right now, though.

“Here, say ‘ahh.’”

“Ahh.”

A while after the takoyaki party started, Kasahara was actually feeding Hayashi takoyaki. I thought it was a joke, so I was speechless. Not creeped out—speechless. “It’s not a show for you.”

“Then don’t do it right in front of me.”

“Oh, come on. You’re just jealous, aren’t you, Yamamoto-kun?”

Nope, definitely not. I was about to brush it off casually, but someone acted before I could respond. That someone was Kasahara.

“Here.”

“…What?”

A takoyaki, speared on a toothpick held by Kasahara’s fingers. For some reason, that takoyaki was now right in front of my face.

“Say ‘ahh.’”

“…No way, I’m not doing that.”

“Ahh.”

…Ugh, fine. If I don’t eat it, I’ll look like the guy who can’t read the room. Plus, Hayashi’s been shooting daggers at me this whole time.

Chomp.

The flavor of the sauce on the batter and the cheese inside spread through my mouth. It’s honestly pretty good.

“…What’s your problem?”

“Nothing.”

I asked because Hayashi’s glare was stinging, but as usual, she didn’t seem inclined to give me any answers.