Chapter 38: The Class President Who’s Good at Cooking

Part One

Ten minutes into Matsuhiwa Yuki’s visit to Cola’s place, and the atmosphere is subtly tense.
It feels like when your mom inspects your apartment, ready to revoke your solo-living privileges if your lifestyle or diet seems unhealthy.

“…I tied up the hair on the floor.”

“Oh, uh… thanks…”

“The stove hasn’t been used since you moved in, has it?”

“Y-Yeah… I mostly eat out. It’s easier. If I’m lazy, I just grab a bento from the convenience store…”

“Quantum-san.”

“Here!”
Cola instinctively straightens up.

“Mind if I eat here?”

“Uh, me cook? Honestly, the open kitchen’s a hassle—cooking makes a lot of oil fumes…”

“I’ll cook.”

“Huh? Isn’t it weird for a guest to cook?”
Cola hesitates, barely stopping herself from saying, We’re not even that close.

“No problem… I’ll clean up.”

“N-No, that’s not what I meant…”

“Any foods you hate? Though it’s best not to be picky.”

“As long as it’s tasty, I’m not picky… Wait, no, should I help?”

“No need. Rest in the AC room, Quantum-san. I’ll bring the food in when it’s done.”

“Tch, that’s not right…”

“People with albinism are frail. You need rest.”

“Uh…”
Cola clutches her forehead, unable to argue.
She can’t exactly say her silver hair isn’t from albinism but from being a vampire, right?
Best not to drag normal people into that mess—they’ve got no way to protect themselves.

“Uh, want a cola?”

“…Thanks.”

“You don’t mind drinks, huh? Thought you’d say cola’s bad for you.”
Cola cracks a joke, but Yuki doesn’t laugh, making her expression turn awkward.
“Canned okay? Here…”

“Mm, go rest, Quantum-san.”
Yuki lowers her head, unpacking ingredients from her plastic bag.

“O-Okay…”
Yuki’s commanding tone makes Cola instinctively obey, retreating to her room…

Part Two

Cola seems to be admiring her new figures, but her gaze is unfocused, her attention on the kitchen outside.
There’s the sizzle of oil, the sound of washing and chopping vegetables—she can’t tell what’s being made.

“Tempura…?”
Cola mutters, sneaking a peek through a crack in the door. Yuki, coat off, is busy at the stove, with several plates already on the counter, the enticing aroma wafting over.
Her cooking is skilled, no wasted movements, precise and orderly.
The range hood hums, mingling with the savory scents, making the sunset-red clouds outside seem almost edible.

Cola quietly shuts the door, rolls across the tatami, and returns to her low wooden tea table.
Besides this table, her place only has a tiny desk for her computer—too small for even an external keyboard.
She usually eats at the tea table, mostly convenience store bentos or instant noodles, which don’t take up much space.

“She seems so icy but is weirdly forward…”
Cola props her cheeks, sighing.
“Ugh, I’m terrible with people like her. Can’t read what she’s thinking…”

As she ponders dinner conversation—maybe a joke to lighten the mood—the door gently opens.
Yuki steps in with a plate, scans the room, and settles her gaze on the tea table.
She doesn’t ask, but Cola nods instinctively.
Yuki sets the dish down naturally.
More plates follow, filling the small table to the brim.

Unlike the classic Japanese meal at Liuli’s, Yuki’s dishes use large plates with generous portions but fewer varieties.
Five dishes in total:
Fried chicken nuggets, braised shrimp, fried mushrooms, stir-fried cabbage, and a big bowl of creamy clam chowder.
Fried foods seem simple, but frying them to be non-greasy and tasty takes skill.
Clearly, Yuki’s got that skill.

“No rice, so I made extra dishes. Eat more vegetables.”

“Thanks… but isn’t this too much?”
Cola coughs.
“Can we finish all this?”

“…How many meals have you eaten today, Quantum-san?”

“Uh… huh…”
Cola counts on her fingers, then blinks.
“No wonder I’m tired. I… haven’t eaten a proper meal today! If that morning toast doesn’t count.”

“Then eat more to get nutrients.”

Despite her mom’s mantra that “fried foods have no nutrition,” the spread before Cola is undeniably appetizing.
It smells amazing.
Cola swallows hard, nodding.
“I’m starving, so I’ll eat more than usual, but… I probably can’t eat that much.”

“Leftovers can go in the fridge. Re-fry them tomorrow. I’ll store the oil in the fridge too.”

“Sounds like a hassle…”

“Then microwave them.”

“Don’t have a microwave…”

“…You should’ve bought one at the store. Cheapest was 2,000 yen.”

“Cough, n-next time!”
Cola, who overspent today, coughs.
“Anyway, thanks. We’ve only met a few times, yet you’re cooking dinner at my place. Honestly, I’d just grab a bento if I were alone…”

“Come to my place next time. My kitchen’s better equipped.”

“N-Next time, definitely…”
Cola nods like a bobblehead.
“Alright, I’m digging in!”

Yuki doesn’t respond, just closes her eyes, clasps her hands, murmurs “Itadakimasu,” and eats quietly.
For dinner, it’s quite a feast.
But Yuki’s silence leaves Cola unsure how to start a conversation.
She tries, “The fried chicken’s great,” but Yuki only adds another piece to her bowl without a word. Later, Cola says, “The sunset’s pretty today,” and Yuki just looks up to admire it silently. Near the end, Cola cracks a joke about mushrooms making you see subtitles, but Yuki pauses, thinks, and replies, “Today’s mushrooms aren’t poisonous,” leaving Cola so embarrassed she wants to crawl into a hole.

“I’m full.”

“Uh, m-me too…”

“Mm, I’ll pack the leftovers for the fridge.”
Yuki starts to stand.

Cola instinctively presses her shoulder.
“Wait, sit for a bit. Rest after eating.”

“…Okay.”

“No problem eating here instead of home?”

“Mm, no problem.”

“Uh… you’re surprisingly warm, huh?”

“The teacher asked me to look after you.”

“Oh… like that…”

“I’m Matsuhiwa Yuki.”

“Huh?”

“No need to keep calling me Class President.”

“Oh, got it. Matsuhiwa-san then?”

“Mm.”

“Oh, since you play drums, do you have a band?”

“Had one.”

“Eh, it broke up?”

“Mm.”

“Why? Uh, you don’t have to say if you don’t want…”

“Lost motivation.”

“Such a normal reason. Thought it’d be some band drama… but losing drive after no results is pretty real…”
Cola racks her brain for topics to keep the mood from freezing.
“Actually, Liuli and I were thinking of starting a band.”

“Sakuratsuki-san?”

“Yeah, she’s on keyboard, I’d be vocals, but I don’t play any instruments…”

“You can learn.”

“What do you think I’d suit?”

Yuki answers instantly, “Bass.”

“Eh, bass? Why?”

“…You talk a lot, so you’d make up for the bass’s lack of presence.”

“Feels like a subtle jab!”

“…What’s the band’s name?”
Yuki shifts topics abruptly.

“Huh? We haven’t started yet, just an idea… Name? Maybe… Quantum Band?”

“Mm, I’m in.”

“Huh?!”

Cola’s mind goes blank.
She was just tossing out a topic, not expecting Yuki to decide on the spot.
Honestly, when she pitched the band to Liuli, she sounded confident, but the thought of actually being the vocalist makes her want to back out.
Deep down, she figured with just Liuli, the band probably wouldn’t happen, so she acted bold…

“Uh, w-well… we’ll talk later? It’s still early stages…”

“Contact me when it’s set.”
Yuki, expressionless, hands over her phone.
“My LINE.”

“O-Okay… adding you now…”

“Mm.”
Yuki nods, starting to clear the dishes.

Cola can’t just watch, so she grabs some plates, following Yuki to the kitchen sink.
As she wonders how to help, Yuki suddenly looks up, serious.
“…Definitely bass.”

“Huh…?”

“Drummers like bassists.”

“…What’s that mean?”

No answer. Yuki focuses on washing dishes, lost in her own world.