Invitation
Sorry for slacking off all day.
I was recharging my energy.
No stock left.
The end of September.
In a season where the lingering summer heat was finally starting to fade, I was, as usual, diligently cleaning my room.
Cleaning is great.
The more time you put into it, the cleaner your room gets. A clean room boosts productivity and, above all, is good for your health. Honestly, I’m almost in awe of how wonderful a task it is.
“Still cleaning?”
There’s one person who glares at me while I’m at it.
My roommate, Hayashi, who lives with me in what was supposed to be a one-person apartment.
Due to a series of events, we ended up living together in this room. And so, as we spend our days like this, it’s been almost two months since I started hiding her here.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I told you before, didn’t I?”
“Told me what?”
“Cleaning’s one hour a day.”
“Yeah, you did say that.”
Without pausing my cleaning for a second, I respond to Hayashi’s words.
Cleaning’s one hour a day.
The first time Hayashi said that was… when she reunited with a high school classmate without me, wasn’t it?
Seriously. One hour a day for cleaning? If anything needs regulating, it’s stuff like gaming or other unproductive nonsense.
Unlike gaming, cleaning is the epitome of productivity.
No matter how much time I spend cleaning in a day, she benefits from it too, so she’s got no right to complain.
“If I didn’t say something, you’d seriously be cleaning nonstop except when you’re sleeping.”
“…Well, cleaning’s good for your health.”
“Too much cleaning’s bad for your body, you know.”
Hmm, fair point.
…No choice, then.
Honestly, I’ve got about two thousand excuses to shut her down floating in my head right now… but I’ll let it slide for today.
“Lunch is ready.”
“Thanks as always. Alright, let’s eat.”
“Mm.”
Eleven thirty.
We started eating lunch. On our days off, we usually eat around this time.
Both of us are early risers.
So even if we eat a solid breakfast, we start getting peckish around this hour.
While eating the stir-fried veggies Hayashi made, we enjoyed some casual conversation.
A few dozen minutes later, we finished eating.
“I’ll take care of the dishes.”
“It’s fine. Just soak them in water.”
“…Got it.”
Somehow, Hayashi’s ended up taking on the dishwashing duties by default.
Personally, I feel a slight pang of guilt about this. Dishwashing’s a light chore, so it feels like something we could split.
But whenever I bring it up, Hayashi gets inexplicably grumpy and insists she won’t let me do it.
Over time, I stopped suggesting we share the dishwashing, but I’d try to sneak in and do it myself, only to get stopped. That’s become our routine.
Lately, I’ve been thinking what a pointless back-and-forth this is.
At this rate, maybe it’d be easier to just let Hayashi handle it all.
But if I give in now, what was the point of bringing it up all this time? So, basically, I’m stuck in a situation where I can’t back down.
Leaving the dishes to Hayashi, I zoned out watching TV.
A show that just plays random over-the-top reactions from comedians on video-sharing sites.
A show where they make half-amateurs answer quiz questions.
A rerun of an old drama.
A rerun of a travel show.
No matter how much I flip through the channels, the budget constraints of the modern TV industry are painfully obvious, and it’s depressing.
At this point, I’d rather watch old Tuesday Suspense episodes for entertainment.
“Hey.”
Just as I turned off the TV, having found nothing worth watching, Hayashi called out to me.
“What’s up?”
“Got plans tonight?”
“Tonight?”
Such a sudden question about my schedule.
I let out a thoughtful hum.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Huh? You didn’t mention anything.”
“I’ve got to eat the dinner you’re kindly making.”
Hayashi fell silent.
The sound of running water from the sink and the sponge scrubbing dishes echoed through the room.
“…There’s somewhere I want to go tonight.”
Completely ignoring my comment, Hayashi stammered.
“Somewhere you want to go?”
A brief silence.
Having finished the dishes, the sound of running water stopped, and Hayashi came into the living room, wiping her hands on her apron.
She walked right past me and grabbed her smartphone.
After fiddling with it for a bit, she showed me the screen.
Displayed on her phone was ticketing information for a performance by a famous Japanese theater troupe.
“…Tch, I was supposed to go with Akari, but…”
“Oh, you should go then.”
“…Her schedule didn’t work out.”
“What? That’s harsh of her. What came up?”
“Huh?”
“Huh?”
Hayashi’s eyes widened, as if she hadn’t thought about it at all.
“Uh, well…”
“Is it hard to talk about?”
“Yeah, kinda.”
“My bad, then. Pretend I didn’t ask.”
Another silence.
Lately, when I talk with Hayashi, she goes quiet like this a lot. Is her brain just shutting down? Or is it hard for her to say what’s on her mind?
…Well, back in high school, she was the type to blurt out even the tough stuff, so probably the former.
Still, her brain shutting down makes her seem kinda like a ditz (laugh).
“Let’s go.”
A straightforward invitation.
“I’m not really into that stuff, you know.”
“It’s fine. Neither am I.”
“Then why’d you want to go?”
“…Akari invited me.”
That jerk…
I thought she was super sweet to Hayashi, but apparently, she can be pretty harsh too.
“Alright. I feel bad for you, so… I’ll go.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem. What about the ticket cost?”
“It’s fine.”
“No way, that’s not okay.”
“I bought them with my first paycheck.”
“That makes it even less okay.”
I pout as I say it, but after living together for two months, I know Hayashi won’t budge once she’s made up her mind.
Reluctantly, I decide to accept her kindness.
Guess I’ll have to treat her to dinner to make up for it.
“In that case, how about we grab dinner out too?”
“Yeah. I already made reservations.”
“Huh?”
“Huh?”
…Oh, so she’d planned to have dinner with Kasahara too.
And then Kasahara bailed on her.
…Really?
It looks like we’ll surpass the highest points for a single novel.
At this rate, it might be my first work to break 20,000 points!
Always!
Truly!
Thank you!!!!
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