The Unseen Moment

The warm glow from the living room lights softly illuminated the floor, creating an atmosphere of quiet, almost languid tranquility.

Genji stood in the kitchen, emptying out the now-cold miso soup before beginning to prepare a fresh supper. The steam wafted onto his face, a comforting warmth that prompted him to turn his head and let out a soft yawn.

Sato Chinatsu, rather than retreating to her room to change, remained in her expensive evening gown. Showing no concern for wrinkles, she simply lifted its hem and knelt upon the sofa. The elegant gown, paired with her serene, domestic posture, created an unexpectedly harmonious picture, though it went unappreciated.

Genji rarely stayed up late, which was precisely why he lacked the confidence to take on a part-time job as an internet café attendant. He certainly wasn’t in the mood to sneak glances at what his landlady was wearing that day, and the ’emotional value’ of such a peculiar service was something neither of them had ever broached.

Rubbing his eyes, he felt weariness creep up from his soles, yet his hands moved with practiced efficiency, swiftly preparing the late-night meal.

Tonight’s supper was crab porridge. The ingredients had arrived a few days prior in a package addressed to Professor Sato, the sender’s identity unknown to him. Judging by her reaction, the sender must have been an acquaintance; otherwise, no one would have gone to the trouble of sending such plump Hokkaido hairy crabs.

The rice grains had softened and bloomed beautifully, with delicate strands of crab meat nestled within, releasing an aroma so rich it was utterly tantalizing. It was neither scorched nor scalding, its texture perfectly balanced, making it ideal for eating.

He caught the faint scent of Professor Sato’s perfume, mingled with the distinct aroma of alcohol. Unfortunately, crab meat was considered ‘cold’ in traditional belief, and he had no alternative ingredients to prepare a different dish, making this an unexpected predicament. To ensure Professor Sato’s meals were always fresh, Genji personally purchased ingredients daily; any leftovers would then become his own lunchbox for the following day.

While Genji’s back was turned, Sato Chinatsu stealthily slipped off her nude-colored stockings, then, with a complete disregard for ladylike decorum, began massaging her alabaster feet. Those five-centimeter stiletto heels had been an absolute torment.

The savory, sweet aroma of the crab porridge wafted over, stirring a pang of hunger in her stomach. Turning her head toward the kitchen, she saw Genji emerge, carrying a porcelain bowl.

Noticing her gaze, Genji announced, “It’s ready. Come and have a taste.”

No sooner had he placed the crab porridge on the dining table than the soft pad of bare feet sounded beside him. Genji instinctively glanced down, his eyes falling upon crystalline toes adorned with vibrant red nail polish, and he hastily averted his gaze.

“Why aren’t you wearing shoes?” Genji asked, a hint of resignation in his voice. “You’ll catch a cold.”

‘She can’t blame me for taking advantage again, can she?’

“It hurts,” she replied simply.

The unfamiliar perfume wafting from Sato Chinatsu permeated his senses, and Genji felt his drowsiness deepen further. He blinked, watching the professor settle into the opposite chair. Beneath the living room’s incandescent light, her light makeup accentuated her captivating, elegant beauty.

He was utterly stunned, his burgeoning drowsiness suddenly vanishing.

Noticing her curled legs, he couldn’t help but inquire, “Do you need some ointment?”

Sato Chinatsu shook her head, her weariness evident, with a faint redness beneath her eyes. She hadn’t even registered Genji’s gaze. She peered into the porcelain bowl, then slowly, almost languidly, picked up her spoon, appearing to have little strength.

Watching her slowly consume the porridge, mouthful by laborious mouthful, Genji quietly retreated, not wishing to disturb Professor Sato’s “relaxation time.” He returned to his desk, settling back down to continue the unfinished work he had left earlier.

The crisp clinking of the porcelain spoon against the bowl echoed faintly, while the delicate fragrance of the crab porridge mingled with Sato Chinatsu’s perfume, swirling gently as mist beneath the incandescent light.

Before long, Genji found himself yawning again. His eyelids felt heavy, so he decided to rest his head on the desk, intending to relax his taut nerves and clean up after Professor Sato finished her supper. However, the moment his eyelids fluttered shut, his breathing softened into a gentle, rhythmic sound.

The pen remained clutched in his palm, while the adjacent pages of paper were crumpled beneath his arm, their corners subtly curling.

Having completely devoured the crab porridge, Sato Chinatsu felt her spirits lift considerably. She turned, intending to say something, only to realize that Genji had fallen asleep. He was sprawled across the table, his hair a disheveled mess covering his forehead.

Upon seeing this, she rose silently, then, carrying the bowl, quietly began to wash it. It was a rather strange sight: a woman in an evening gown with light makeup, skillfully washing a porcelain bowl. Yet, there was no one else around to witness it.

Gazing at the impeccably clean kitchen, a faint hint of satisfaction crossed Sato Chinatsu’s face. Wiping her hands, she turned and, observing the slumbering Genji, approached him with a touch of hesitation. She intended to rouse him, urging him to return to his room to sleep, knowing that falling asleep there would surely lead to a cold.

Yet, she found herself unsure how to begin. Never before had she shown such concern for another person; her only thought was to move closer and gently awaken Genji with a pat.

Her gaze, however, fell upon a crumpled piece of paper resting near his arm, and she paused. The notebook itself was heavily creased, and one particular crumpled sheet lay partially unfolded, revealing its contents. The handwriting was somewhat chaotic, as if scrawled in haste.

Under the soft light, she read a few lines, her brow slowly furrowing.

“‘…That day, I stood by the door, my bag heavy in my hand, the wind making me pull my neck into my shoulders.'”

“‘My shoe soles were almost worn through, and there was a hole in my sock. Looking down, I felt utterly useless.'”

“‘I knocked for ages, but no one answered. Standing there, my heart felt hollow, and I had no idea where to go…'”

Her eyebrow twitched, and a surge of irritation flared within her.

‘Was he mocking her? What did he mean, “knocked for ages, but no one answered”? He had clearly been waiting at the door when she’d unlocked the downstairs intercom.’

‘Was he portraying himself as a street vagrant just to paint her as some kind of villain?’

She stared at those lines, a fleeting image of his earnest, somewhat clumsy face as he carried plates, and his simple words, “You’re back,” flashing through her mind.

Her anger flared, then just as quickly subsided, and she gritted her teeth.

‘It was just a story, after all. She had been so good to him; he surely couldn’t be thinking such things. Otherwise, why would he care for her so diligently?’

As Sato Chinatsu inwardly reasoned with herself, Genji stirred, shifting his position. The jacket hanging over the back of his chair slipped silently to the floor.

She glanced at Genji, noting his deep slumber, then, with a slight frown, bent to retrieve the jacket. The elegant gown stretched tautly against her figure as she did so.

The moment her hand brushed the fabric, Genji stirred, his body tilting, and he leaned directly toward her. As Sato Chinatsu straightened, she found herself face-to-face with Genji’s profile.

They were suddenly quite close, and the familiar scent of Genji’s presence drifted towards her. It was the kind of scent that promised a good night’s sleep.

Even as she pondered, her movements didn’t cease. The strap of her gown slipped slightly, revealing her collarbone, and a cool breath of air brushed past, just before his sleeping cheek. Only after she had fully straightened did she realize what had just happened, holding her breath.

‘How could she have been so unguarded?’ Sato Chinatsu thought, warily observing Genji. Only when she saw no signs of him stirring did she finally exhale in relief.

Gritting her teeth, Sato Chinatsu inwardly cursed, ‘That annoying brat.’

Her cheeks felt warm, and her heart beat a few extra rhythms.

“Sleeping so soundly, how impressive,” she muttered, the words escaping her lips with a faint, almost imperceptible sourness in her tone.

Pulling the jacket over his back, Sato Chinatsu, a hint of fluster in her movements, swiftly exited the living room. Moments after the master bedroom door clicked shut, the faint, almost inaudible sound of running water could be heard from within.

Genji, who had been seemingly deep in slumber, suddenly opened his eyes, an embarrassed expression on his face as he sat upright.

In truth, he had woken the moment he stirred, initially mistaking the sensation of the falling jacket for a draft. He hadn’t anticipated hearing such distinct breathing so close when he turned his head. And there was that fragrance, already etched into his memory.

At first, he hadn’t known what Professor Sato intended to do, but to prevent any awkwardness between them, he could only remain perfectly still, feigning sleep. It wasn’t until Professor Sato had gently draped the jacket over him that Genji’s heart swelled with genuine apology.

He had actually been worried about what Professor Sato might do to him. What kind of person was Professor Sato? She cared for her students, possessed vast knowledge, and her appearance and figure were beyond reproach. Though her personality could be a little distant, she was by no means difficult to get along with.

How could he have harbored such suspicions about his perfect benefactor? It was utterly shameful.

Genji lightly slapped his cheeks, then gazed out the window. It wasn’t even summer yet, but he suddenly felt a distinct warmth.