Ch.9Chapter 2. Bread and the Heroine (3)

Tonkatsu is literally “donkkassu.” In fact, they say it’s impossible to express it accurately in Korean either way. In Japanese, “ka” sounds like “kka” in Korean, and “tsu” similarly sounds like “sseu.”

Usually, older loanwords in Korea use “kka” and “sseu,” while newer ones use “ka” and “tsu.” It’s like the difference between “sseunami” and “tsunami.” I suppose pronunciation perception changes with generations.

Well, it doesn’t really matter. Whether it’s donkkassu or tonkatsu, the thick meat remains the same.

It has crispy breading on the outside, and the dipping sauce is somewhat sweet with a hint of acidity.

When I pick up a piece of pre-cut Japanese-style tonkatsu with chopsticks and carefully bite into it, the pork loin inside the breading tears away, spraying the oil it contains throughout my mouth.

And the taste was so shocking that I involuntarily shuddered.

In my previous life, and since being reborn in this one, I had never eaten such delicious tonkatsu.

In a way, this was only natural. I’d been surviving on nothing but empty hot dog buns for just over two weeks. I was so tired of them that I’d even tried eating them with blanched bean sprouts and soy sauce, or dipping them in salt. But nothing could completely mask the taste of that empty bread.

Oh, speaking of salt, there was salt here too.

As if declaring “we’re confident enough that it tastes good with just a bit of seasoning,” they provided a small plate with a thin layer of salt alongside the sauce.

And this place had every right to be confident.

The meat had no gamey smell, and the breading wasn’t too greasy. Just dipping a crispy, savory piece of tonkatsu lightly in salt was enough to make me feel happy.

And best of all, this place served plenty of rice.

Unlike those king-sized tonkatsu places that give you just one ice cream scoop of rice, they provided a proper bowl—or rather, plate?—of rice, which I really appreciated.

I want to come here again. If I have money.

“…Is it that delicious?”

As I held a half-eaten piece on my chopsticks with tears welling in my eyes, Sasaki sitting across from me asked.

When we were deciding where to sit, we had a slight dilemma.

It seemed his little sister wanted to sit facing her “dear brother,” but she also didn’t want to give up the seat next to him. She was clearly struggling with where to sit. A textbook brother complex.

In the end, she chose to sit beside her brother.

In terms of “couple and their friend,” she took the “couple” position.

Well, it didn’t matter to me, so I just sat in the remaining seat across from them. Though I was considerate enough to sit across from both of them rather than directly in front of her brother.

After all, this tonkatsu was my goal.

“It’s delicious.”

I nodded firmly as I answered.

To be honest, once my circumstances improve and food becomes more plentiful, I probably won’t experience this kind of taste again, but who cares? Happiness is something that flies away if you don’t appreciate it in the moment. I decided to simply enjoy this moment.

“So… Kurosawa, was it?”

Sasaki asked me again.

Ah, maybe he doesn’t know my name?

Makes sense—when people who’ve just been introduced refer to each other by surname, that friend who supposedly talked about me might have started with “Kurosawa is—” or something like that.

Of course, there was a good chance that friend and I hadn’t even properly introduced ourselves, but you never know.

Miura is quite popular. Fukuda and Yamashita sitting behind him are the same. They’re what you’d call the “in-crowd.”

While those three hang out together most often, how could Miura have become class president if he wasn’t popular in the class to begin with?

So many students in class approached Miura. And some of them would greet me too, sitting right in front of him.

Of course, we rarely had any deep conversations. My responses were too brief for anyone to attempt continuing the conversation.

If my appearance had been even slightly brighter, they might have spoken to me a few more times, but my usual look is that of “Sadako.”

Sadako with her hair tied at the ends.

In that sense, Sasaki was among the braver ones.

“Kotone Kurosawa.”

I told him my name.

Since he bought me a meal, I should at least properly introduce myself.

“I’m Souta Sasaki.”

I actually already knew his name, but thinking about it, this was the first time I’d heard it today.

“And this is—”

“I’m Shii. Shii Sasaki. I’m his little sister. Nice to meet you.”

She had seemed somewhat wary of me at first, but sitting face to face, I must have appeared harmless. That’s good. I’ve been trying to look harmless all this time.

“What brings you all the way out here?”

Sasaki asked.

I thought it might be too personal a question, but then again, there wasn’t much else to ask about.

Besides—

[Tokyo Slayers] faithfully followed the “boy meets girl” formula that was popular at the time.

It was about an ordinary high school boy getting caught up with an extraordinary high school girl, so this moment could easily be the introduction to that story.

And I only realized this after finishing a piece of tonkatsu.

…I really shouldn’t follow someone just because they buy me food.

“…Looking for a part-time job.”

I said quietly.

In reality, it was about 75% just a self-indulgent exploration of Akihabara, but my pride wouldn’t let me admit that outright.

So I put forward the excuse I’d been using to deceive myself.

“A part-time job? This far away?”

I thought as much. Damn.

To be fair, attending Hanakawa High School doesn’t guarantee living nearby. Real estate prices near Tamachi Station in Minato Ward are… well, I don’t know exactly, but they must be quite expensive. Certainly much more than my one-room apartment in Saitama Prefecture.

But that makes it even stranger to look for a part-time job near Akihabara Station, which is another 30 minutes away.

It would mean taking the train from home to school for dozens of minutes, then taking another train for dozens more minutes to work. Time-wise and money-wise, it’s much less efficient than finding work near school or home.

Even without knowing where I live, this was easy to figure out.

But that doesn’t mean I couldn’t think of another reason.

“…If I work nearby, people might recognize my face.”

I said as I picked up my second piece of tonkatsu.

“Ah, that makes sense.”

This time, both of them seemed to understand somewhat.

There are many people in the world with all kinds of personalities. Some enjoy chatting with friends they meet while working, while others don’t appreciate such encounters.

If they assumed I was the latter type, it was quite plausible, wasn’t it?

“…”

And then silence.

Hmm…

I wouldn’t mind just eating the tonkatsu and leaving, but somehow that felt wrong after someone bought me a meal.

Honestly, someone who buys you a meal just because you bumped into them must be a good person, right?

And the protagonist, at that.

“Why are you two here?”

“Ah.”

Sasaki immediately looked pleased.

Not because I spoke to him, but because he wouldn’t have to eat in awkward silence.

“Shii said she needed a computer.”

Ah, I see.

That makes sense.

But here’s the thing.

Why would the perfect superhuman little sister, who seems to know everything about everything, not know about computers? In the original work, she handles word processing and everything else just fine.

Well, she probably just made up a reason to hang out with her “dear brother.”

Judging by her anxious expression since earlier, she seems worried I might follow them around all day.

Don’t worry, I won’t.

By the way, I knew their relationship was quite complicated.

Not in any incestuous sense or anything like that.

Their parents were divorced.

The father took Souta Sasaki, while the mother took Shii Sasaki.

Neither parent was particularly ideal, so both siblings were supporting themselves through part-time jobs.

They attended school on scholarships.

…Come to think of it, aren’t Japanese scholarships loans that need to be repaid rather than grants?

Well, those two will surely overcome it splendidly. They’re the protagonist siblings, after all.

I thought this as I put the second piece whole into my mouth.

It was truly indescribably delicious.

*

“I’ll be going.”

“Oh, okay…”

The girl with black hair, black eyes, and even a black sailor uniform (though it was unclear if she chose to wear it herself) looked up at Souta.

The red ribbon beneath the sailor collar of her uniform stood out vividly.

The girl named Kurosawa turned around and walked away.

Perhaps it was his imagination, but her gait seemed a bit more stable than when he first saw her.

“Brother.”

Shii, standing beside him, asked.

“Did you know her from before?”

“No.”

Souta shook his head.

He had seen her before, but never spoken to her.

He had heard about her, though.

Kurosawa herself might not be aware, but she was already quite well-known among their grade.

She had been absent without notice for the entire first week of the semester.

And she had been absent again after that. Yet she didn’t seem to care at all.

During lunch, she would stagger alone down the hallway and lean against the corner of the school store, only buying bread after everyone else had left.

Her hairstyle alone made it hard not to be noticed. Black hair long enough to cover her entire back.

When she tied her hair back, it caused quite a stir. They said her revealed face was among the top-ranked at school.

“But why?”

Shii tilted her head and asked.

“I wonder why myself.”

The rumors about Kurosawa weren’t particularly positive.

Gloomy atmosphere, always alone at lunch. She seemed to have friends, but not particularly close ones.

One student even said she took her bread to the rooftop.

So the embellished story went like this:

She was actually poor, and might be earning money through inappropriate means.

Coincidentally, such rumors increased after her face was revealed.

“When I grabbed her arm earlier.”

“Her arm?”

“Yes. Her arm was thin.”

Souta said.

“Shii, it reminded me of when I met you again after a long time.”

“…”

At Souta’s words, Shii fell silent.

Well, Kurosawa was older than Shii had been then, so she had “more” flesh than Shii had. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t thin.

“So… I think I meddled unnecessarily. Should I not have?”

“…”

Shii was quiet for a moment, then let out a light sigh.

“No, I think it’s fine since Kurosawa herself didn’t show much resistance.”

“You think so too, right?”

When Souta smiled down at Shii, she awkwardly averted her gaze.

Souta couldn’t help but smile at her reaction.

*

I headed straight home.

If I wandered around Akihabara, I might run into those two again.

After claiming I was looking for work, it would be embarrassing to be caught staring open-mouthed at figures in a second-hand figure shop.

But I was in a good mood.

Having a full stomach is a good thing. I had devoured not only the tonkatsu but also all the rice and salad that came with it.

With my somewhat small and thin frame, that amount was enough to fill my stomach.

Anyway, as I was heading home with light, cheerful steps—

—I stopped.

Someone was at my door.

Well, it wasn’t a scary situation.

I knew who it was.

“…Teacher?”

When I called out to the woman sniffling while leaning against the door, Ms. Suzuki looked up at me.

She was holding what looked like a bundle wrapped in cloth.

Ms. Suzuki looked up at me with tears in her eyes, and her face showed surprise.

“Kurosawa?”

“…What are you doing here?”

“Oh, ah, nothing.”

The teacher quickly stood up and tried to dust off her bottom, but dropped the bundle she was holding.

The bundle fell with a relatively soft sound.

I looked up at the sky beyond the corridor railing. The sky had already turned dark. Tokyo is east of the entire Korean peninsula. Naturally, the sun sets very early by my perception. Having eaten dinner, this was to be expected.

Had she come straight from school and been waiting all this time?

“You weren’t home, I see.”

“…”

Only when I saw Ms. Suzuki smiling as she said this did I understand why there were tears in her eyes.

For some reason, Ms. Suzuki had visited my home, called for me, but I hadn’t come out. So she thought something had happened to me, or at least that I was rejecting her.

I took out my phone and looked at it.

…Not a single email?

Seeing my action, Ms. Suzuki seemed to realize how strange her behavior had been.

Her face turned red.

…Let’s pretend I didn’t notice.

Well, it’s not like I have anywhere to go after school anyway.

I silently took the key from my pocket and opened the door.

“Would you like to come in?”

“Y-yes. Thank you.”

Ms. Suzuki answered with a reddened face to my question.

She’s an adult, but still a newcomer to society.

Come to think of it, I might be the older one.

Entering the room, I neatly took off my shoes and carefully put my bag down at the edge of the room.

No matter how sparse the room was, if it got messier, Ms. Suzuki would worry unnecessarily.

After I sat down in the room, Ms. Suzuki sat down across from me with her bag on one arm and the bundle in her embrace.

“…May I ask why you came today?”

“Ah, yes.”

Ms. Suzuki carefully put down the bundle she was holding.

“I was a bit concerned after visiting last time. I hope I’m not being a bother.”

When she unwrapped the light blue cloth, it revealed a blanket.

…A blanket!

And not just a blanket, but a pillow too. Goodness.

“It’s not very thick since it’s one I used at home, but I thought it would be better than sleeping on the bare floor.”

Indeed, both the bottom and top blankets were thin summer blankets.

But who cares?

“Thank you.”

I immediately bowed my head slightly as I spoke.

I won’t refuse. I’m not sure if this is proper etiquette in Japan, but I don’t turn down gifts. As long as it’s not some strange adult item sent by a pervert, it will certainly be helpful for daily life.

“R-really?”

Did she think I would refuse? Ms. Suzuki spoke with some surprise.

But soon her expression showed relief.

“Where… did you go today?”

“To Akihabara, briefly.”

I stopped there.

Am I still sixteen?

Setting aside finding part-time work that would hire a sixteen-year-old, I’m not sure if the school would allow it. There might be rules against part-time jobs in the school regulations.

Some schools even prohibit commuting by motorcycle despite students being old enough for a license.

“Akihabara?”

“…I just wanted to visit.”

So, I spoke without revealing that I was looking for work.

Ms. Suzuki seemed lost in thought for a moment. Did she think I was hiding something?

“…I see.”

But whether she understood my feelings or believed I wasn’t doing anything wrong, Ms. Suzuki just said that.

With nothing more to say between us despite wanting to talk, Ms. Suzuki slowly rose from her seat.

“I’m glad nothing’s wrong. If you need any help, please tell me. I am your homeroom teacher after all.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“No need for thanks.”

Ms. Suzuki smiled slightly at my words. Her eyes were still a bit red.

She’s really a good person.

Well, she was a good person in the original work too. I remember she was even better than the protagonist’s homeroom teacher.

“Well, I’ll come again sometime.”

Ms. Suzuki said as she bowed slightly to me.

“Goodbye.”

I bowed back.

After confirming that Ms. Suzuki had gone down the stairs, I carefully closed the door.

Then I hurriedly went back into the room.

Ms. Suzuki had left not only the blankets but also the wrapping cloth. She didn’t say when she wanted it back. That means she’s giving it to me, right?

I carefully folded the cloth again and put it in the kitchen sink drawer.

Then I returned to the room and spread out the folded blanket.

Whether she had washed it before giving it to me or not, not a speck of dust flew up, to exaggerate slightly.

I spread the blanket on the floor and placed the pillow.

Then I lay down with my head on the pillow and covered myself with the blanket.

“…Wow.”

After always sleeping with my hard leather bag as a pillow, making my neck stiff, lying on what seemed to be a cotton-filled pillow felt like heaven. So soft.

And the blanket over my body was soft too.

Tonight would be the most comfortable sleep I’ve had since coming here.

What’s this?

Why is my luck suddenly so good?

Free meat and free blankets?

“…”

A thought in a corner of my mind suggested that something wasn’t right, but the defense mechanism occupying most of my brain smashed that thought with a hammer.

I felt at ease again.