Before Sato Chinatsu entered his life, Genji had never experienced such intimate contact with a woman.
His closest female acquaintance had likely been his forty-five-year-old female teacher at school.
Now, cohabiting with a beautiful and wealthy female professor in the same apartment, Genji found it somewhat incredible.
The deeper his gratitude for Professor Sato grew, the more profound his regret over that drunken incident became; if not for that accident, would he have—
Carrying such questions, Genji drifted into slumber.
This time, it was a nightmare.
****
The quiet and peaceful weekend saw the apartment wrapped in silence.
When Genji saw the time on his clock from bed, he practically sprang up.
‘Oh no, oh no, oh no, I didn’t make breakfast for the professor this morning, so she must be hungry! They wouldn’t deduct my salary for this, would they? No way.’
Dressing quickly, he pushed open his door, only to be met by a dark hallway.
Genji tiptoed to the entrance, his heart sinking when he saw Professor Sato’s slippers, only to remember she hadn’t worn shoes yesterday, and then looked at the shoe cabinet.
‘Thank goodness, thank goodness, she’s still home.’
He hurried into the bathroom to wash up, then gently pushed open the apartment door and swiftly walked toward the supermarket.
****
Sato Chinatsu had not slept well.
She had eaten a delicious late-night snack, bathed away her exhaustion, and applied a face mask recommended by her beautician for skin care, expecting a good night’s sleep.
Yet, she suffered from insomnia, sleepless until dawn.
Her plan for today had been to exercise at the fitness club, then visit the beauty salon for treatments in the afternoon, and finally, relax by strolling around in the evening.
But as the first ray of sunlight attempted to pierce through the heavy curtains, she tossed and turned in bed, sinking into a state between waking and sleeping.
In her dream, past memories replayed like a film, interspersed with the figures of different people, until the scene froze on a terrible night.
Under the anesthesia of alcohol, she remembered little of that night, only a sense of pain, as if she were floating in mid-air, rising higher and higher, like looking at flowers through a fog, leaving a vague, frustrating feeling that made her want to tear at her hair.
The quilt lay kicked aside, her legs unconsciously entangled, as though struggling against something unseen.
Her long, dark hair fanned out across the pillow, strands subtly curled, outlining her fair neck and collarbone, with a few unruly wisps clinging to her cheeks, obscuring her tightly furrowed brows.
Her expression was weary, yet it exuded an unconscious allure.
The faint sound of the door opening roused her light slumber.
Opening her eyes to the dark room, she knew Genji hadn’t intentionally woken her, but she was still furious.
Once again, she felt the taste of loneliness, a sensation that made her anxious.
She felt like a lonely soul abandoned by the world, drifting in this boundless darkness, unheeded, with nowhere to rely on.
It was as if a cold hand had gripped her throat, making her gasp for breath; she detested this feeling, detested it so much she wanted to scream, to smash something, yet she could only lie in bed, her fingernails digging deep into her palms.
‘I have to remain calm, I have to remain calm, I can’t let my emotions control me.’
Clutching the quilt to her chest, she sought a measure of security.
Soon, she sank back down, wondering how long she would continue to drift in this state of despair.
****
Genji, while picking ingredients in the supermarket, calculated in his mind.
‘Professor Sato came home very late yesterday, not arriving until the early hours, her steps unsteady. Since she slept for so long this morning, she’s definitely not in good spirits.’
‘For the sake of this long-term meal ticket worth 270,000 yen monthly, I have to work hard; I can’t let my patron think I’m slacking off.’
He stood before the vegetable section, knitting his brows as he contemplated a lunch that would help relax her mind.
He remembered Professor Sato liked dishes with distinct flavor profiles, so this time he would put in extra effort.
He chose fresh pumpkin and salmon, then bought some lemon and sesame sauce, and, carrying the bags, headed back.
Upon returning to the apartment, he deliberately lightened his steps, opening and closing doors like a thief, terrified of waking Sato.
After busying himself quietly in the kitchen for a while, a fragrant aroma soon wafted out.
The sweet aroma of pumpkin soup was gentle, the freshness of salmon carried a hint of lemon, and the spinach, mixed and sprinkled with white sesame seeds, gleamed a vibrant green, exuding an elegant touch.
‘It seems a bit warm today?’ He wiped the fine sweat from his brow.
He gazed at the nearly prepared lunch and nodded in satisfaction.
****
Sato Chinatsu was roused by this aroma, like a sleepy little beast, clutching the quilt tightly.
Between waking and sleeping, her nose caught that warm scent, gently pulling her up from the haze.
She furrowed her brow, opening her eyes to find the room still oppressively dark, the thick curtains, like a wall, separating her from the outside world.
The aroma pierced her nostrils, like a soft wisp of vapor, cool and crisp, dispelling the restlessness in her heart.
She grabbed the hair tie from her bedside and casually tied her loose long hair into a low ponytail; a few strands still rebelliously fell down, but she paid them no mind.
Stepping out of bed barefoot, the floor was so cold her toes curled, yet unable to find her slippers after a while, she simply walked barefoot into the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face.
The person in the mirror had faint dark circles under their eyes.
She wore no makeup, her bare face revealed, yesterday’s delicate facade having long been removed.
Pushing open the kitchen door, she saw Genji bowing his head, arranging the plate, his fingers carefully adjusting the salmon’s position.
A small bowl beside it held orange-yellow pumpkin soup, steam curling upwards.
She crossed her arms over her chest, saying nothing, just standing at the doorway, staring at him; the palpable tension emanating from her was undeniable.
‘Frying fish and simmering soup so early in the morning, for her sake, is this young man trying too hard?’
‘This is the first time I’ve encountered such an enthusiastic male like Genji,’ Sato thought, suddenly feeling a sense of unease.
‘Does he really want to please me that much? It’s the weekend, he could sleep in, yet he’s still toiling away in the kitchen for me.’
Sato Chinatsu’s gaze was scrutinizing, just as it had been when she found that sticky note with the same name in her attendance register.
At that time, she felt great disappointment and dissatisfaction.
But there was no pain or hatred.
Rather, it was a surge of anger at the ethical breach between a teacher and student, directed not only at Genji but also at herself.
Since things had come to this pass, a ‘broken pot, broken lid’ mentality (TL Note: A Chinese idiom meaning ‘since things are already bad, might as well make them worse’ or ‘a resigned, devil-may-care attitude’) led her to suggest Genji move in.
She had originally intended only to monitor and observe Genji’s daily life.
In fact, for the first few nights, she kept scissors by her bedside and her phone ready to call the police at any moment.
However, things had turned out somewhat unexpectedly.
The raging anxiety in her heart had lessened a fraction.
Genji turned to retrieve the serving tray, his gaze colliding with Sato Chinatsu’s, and the soup ladle in his hand almost slipped.
Sato Chinatsu was wearing that pink and white nightgown, so thin it was hard to tell she was a serious university professor; she looked more like a homely older sister.
‘Especially, ahem, isn’t Professor Sato wearing no underwear?’
Genji looked into the pot, his voice faint, “Professor, you’re awake? I… I’ll be done soon. Lunch, do you have an appetite to try it now?”
He paused, then added, “If you don’t have an appetite, there are other dishes, nothing too greasy.”
After speaking, Genji secretly glanced at her again, fearing her dissatisfaction.
Sato Chinatsu remained still, her eyes lowered to the food on the table.
This was no casual, makeshift meal, but the result of considerable effort.
Glancing at Genji, his youthful smile inadvertently brightened her mood; the torment brought by insomnia was thus chipped away, layer by layer, all because of his presence.
‘Having someone care for and look after you feels rather nice.’
Sato Chinatsu couldn’t help but look at him again, seeing Genji’s awkwardness, as if his little secret had been caught.
She lowered her eyelids.
“It’s alright… Let’s eat together.”
She pulled out a chair and sat down, picking up her chopsticks.
‘She could consider him a decent student; though he didn’t study hard enough, being good at managing daily life was a skill, even an advantage if he were to marry into a family in the future.’
‘But the two of them were impossible; she had no interest in Genji.’
‘However, given his diligent preparations, she could give him a pleasant expression.’
‘This is as far as it goes.’
Sato said in her heart, though she knew not to whom.
Genji, oblivious to her complex thoughts, could only feel a long sigh of relief in his heart upon seeing her willing to pick up her chopsticks.
‘Good, good, the patron didn’t blame him for slacking off this morning, and her willingness to eat meant she wasn’t angry.’
‘His job was safe, and so was his money.’