Unexpected Generosity and a Culinary Ambition

He had initially expected Professor Sato to reprimand him, considering the story’s framework was intertwined with their lives. Despite having changed their initial encounter into a familial relationship, a lingering apprehension remained.

Still, he found himself unable to dwell on such concerns at the moment.

Genji had once dabbled in writing, though his efforts were confined to a Mixi interest group. There, a dozen chuunibyou (TL Note: A Japanese slang term for adolescents who have delusions of grandeur, believing they have special powers or hidden knowledge) teenagers, all strangers, would independently weave outlandish stories, featuring dragon-slaying heroes or masterminds orchestrating world domination.

However, only he and one other kindred spirit consistently gravitated towards crafting something more sentimental.

As Genji lay in bed, a sudden impulse led him to redownload Mixi. The entirely revamped interface, however, still felt somewhat alien.

Thankfully, the service provider had not yet deactivated his account.

He then navigated to his long-neglected community page. The avatars of the interest group members were uniformly gray, a clear testament to their prolonged absence. Memories of those days seemed to flash before his eyes with startling clarity.

With a sigh, Genji cast his phone aside and drifted off to sleep.

The following morning, Professor Sato nonchalantly presented him with a surprisingly thick envelope.

The sight of dozens of high-denomination banknotes instantly caused Genji’s pupils to constrict.

“This… this much? Surely, just for cooking, it’s far too excessive…”

He was taken aback and immediately tried to refuse the offer. He had only anticipated a maximum of ten thousand yen, believing he could manage perfectly well with that. The professor’s generosity, however, was entirely beyond his expectations.

Sato Chinatsu sipped the hot milk Genji had prepared, her furrowed brows subtly beginning to relax. Having someone meticulously arrange her three daily meals offered her tightly wound mind a rare moment of reprieve. Indeed, meal times were progressively becoming her most cherished periods of relaxation.

“This isn’t merely for a single meal; it covers an entire month’s worth of expenses. Use it to make the dishes as delicious as possible.”

Setting down her cup, Sato Chinatsu cast a slightly displeased glance at the incongruous glass.

“Furthermore,” she added, “this sum also accounts for household cleaning and the replenishment of various supplies.”

“For instance, I no longer wish to drink milk from such an oversized glass; it’s quite peculiar,” Sato Chinatsu stated plainly.

“Consider the rest your compensation.”

Yet, those were the only beer glasses her apartment seemed to possess.

Genji, however, swallowed his retort. With his benefactress before him, offending her was simply not an option.

The dozens of Yukichi (TL Note: Refers to the portrait of Fukuzawa Yukichi on the 10,000 yen banknote, thus meaning 10,000 yen notes) nestled within the envelope would undoubtedly sustain him for a considerable period. Toiling diligently to write a book and even securing a prestigious newcomer’s award would barely cover a few months of Professor Sato’s meal expenses.

The sheer disparity in their lives was undeniably vast.

“Does that imply I’m also responsible for purchasing shampoo and shower gel?” Genji inquired, a hint of hesitation in his voice.

Sato Chinatsu hesitated, then coughed lightly as if to cover a moment of awkwardness.

“Indeed,” she conceded. “I’m not particularly adept at selecting such items; I’ve always just bought whatever. You, however, should be more proficient than I. Simply purchase them and place them on the table.”

Her voice, however, took on a sudden, sharp edge, her gaze hardening.

“But under no circumstances are you to enter my room.”

“Of course not.”

Genji vigorously shook his head, his perception of Professor Sato’s domestic ineptitude deepening considerably.

He briefly studied Sato Chinatsu’s features: her skin, fair and exquisitely delicate, contrasted with the sharp lines of her tailored black suit, which artfully accentuated her slender figure. Her voluminous hair cascaded loosely, framing her face before just brushing her shoulders. Clearly, she maintained a rigorous regimen of beauty salon visits, ensuring her most impeccable self was always presented to the outside world.

Should her colleagues at the university ever glimpse Professor Sato’s true domestic habits… Genji couldn’t even imagine it.

Sato Chinatsu, catching the fleeting hint of pity in his gaze, knitted her brows but remained silent.

The morning’s brief respite was fleeting. Sato Chinatsu swiftly collected her bag and departed the apartment, leaving Genji as its sole occupant.

His afternoon was packed with classes, which meant he would need to prepare the meals well before his lectures commenced.

‘Hold on, what about Professor Sato’s lunch?’

Genji, who had been on the verge of returning to bed for a quick nap, abruptly sat upright.

His gaze fell upon the thick envelope on his bedside table; he had meticulously counted its contents just moments ago—twenty-seven bills in total, precisely two hundred seventy thousand yen.

After a brief moment of contemplation, he extracted a single bill to tuck into his wallet, secured the remainder within a cabinet, then donned his jacket and hastily departed.

The abrupt alleviation of his financial burdens was entirely unforeseen.

Initially, his university attendance was contingent upon a scholarship fund from his hometown. After all, for someone from such a rural locale to gain admission to one of the nation’s top universities was genuinely a rarity. Nonetheless, he still had to procure his own living expenses, and the hometown aid stipulated that he must return to work there for a specified number of years post-graduation.

Now, with the esteemed Professor Sato’s grand gesture… Genji suddenly found himself questioning the very point of attending university.

Yet, this was, unequivocally, the sum Professor Sato had entrusted to him for managing her domestic life. Genji could never appropriate it for himself. Therefore, he resolved to dedicate himself wholeheartedly to his work for Professor Sato.

He made his way to a nearby supermarket, where he entered the produce section and commenced selecting the day’s ingredients.

The fair-skinned, delicate youth moved with practiced ease among the vegetables, occasionally pausing to meticulously compare prices. A short distance away, several full-time homemakers, pushing their shopping carts, frequently cast inquisitive glances at this youthful figure who seemed utterly out of place amongst them. Any young person shopping for groceries alongside them on a weekday naturally piqued their curiosity, especially given his remarkably fresh-faced appearance. It was easy to be reminded of their own youth.

Having meticulously chosen the day’s produce, he then proceeded to purchase numerous household essentials, including the very milk glasses Professor Sato had explicitly mentioned, alongside elegant, compartmentalized bento boxes.

By observing a few benevolent homemakers, Genji managed to procure an abundance of fresh produce, along with several high-value items currently on sale.

He was now brimming with zeal, determined not merely to succeed, but rather, to utterly capture Professor Sato’s palate.

At midday, Sato Chinatsu sat engrossed at her office desk, her gaze fixed on the computer screen as her fingers flew across the keyboard. Her brow was deeply furrowed as she meticulously processed supplementary materials.

Documents lay stacked high on her desk, and her coffee cup stood conspicuously empty.

A LINE message notification abruptly materialized in the bottom right corner of her computer screen. She cast a swift glance, then clicked it open.

The sender’s pink rabbit avatar pulsed with enthusiastic energy.

–Chinatsu, how is your search for a full-time housekeeper progressing? If you haven’t found anyone suitable, I’d be happy to introduce some options!–

Sato Chinatsu hesitated, her fingers suspended above the keyboard, as Genji’s slightly flustered face flickered through her memory.

A faint twitch pulled at the corner of her lips before she swiftly typed her reply:

–No, thank you. I’ve already found someone.–

A new message promptly appeared from the other end:

–Typical you, so quick! You’re far too decisive, shouldn’t you have taken more time to choose? Especially since you live alone and…–

The message devolved into a lengthy, rambling monologue, causing Sato Chinatsu’s brows to knit even tighter.

She could only offer a curt –I understand.– before promptly closing the chat window.

She leaned back in her chair, gently massaging her temples.

Midday was drawing near, and she still hadn’t settled on a solution for lunch. Instant bento boxes had grown tiresome, the nearby restaurants were too distant, and ordering delivery from her usual establishment seemed equally unappealing.

While she was still deliberating, a knock echoed at her door.

“Enter,” she called out, without lifting her gaze from the screen.

The door promptly swung open, admitting Genji into her private office. In his hand, he carried a large, multi-tiered bento box.

“Good day, Professor Sato. Your delivery has arrived.”

The young man was dressed in his unassuming casual attire, but his clean-cut, smiling face now bore a distinct air of confidence.

Upon hearing the familiar voice, Sato Chinatsu momentarily froze. She lifted her eyes to find Genji holding a bento box so exquisitely crafted it resembled a gift, its multiple layers emanating the tantalizing aroma of freshly prepared food.

“Is this…?” Her voice was laced with undisguised astonishment.

“Your lunch,” Genji said, placing the bento box on her desk. “I couldn’t prepare it for you this morning, so I brought it myself. Don’t worry, I was very careful on the way; no one saw me.”

Sato Chinatsu stared at the box, her expression unmoving for several seconds.

Aside from self-heating convenience store bentos, this was the first time she had ever eaten a meal prepared by someone else.

Opening the lid, she revealed a meticulously arranged lunch: pan-fried salmon, teriyaki beef, tamagoyaki, fried tempura, and blanched spinach. The bottom layer contained white rice with umeboshi, accompanied by a side dish of pickled gherkins.

It was nutritionally balanced, visually appealing, and so lavish that she found it almost dazzling.

“Are you serious?” She frowned, looking at Genji. “This much? How am I supposed to eat it all?”

Genji scratched his head. “I was afraid you might be hungry, so I made a little extra…”

This was a lie. He simply wished to showcase his skills and, incidentally, to discern Professor Sato’s tastes and preferences, thereby proving he was thoughtful and capable.

Sato Chinatsu narrowed her eyes, suspecting that perhaps she had paid him too much, causing this young student, whom she had just begun to trust, to entertain fanciful notions once more. She had merely paid Genji the standard rate for a full-time housekeeper, as advised by a friend. However, seeing each dish prepared with such evident care, utterly devoid of any perfunctory effort, made it impossible for her to voice her concerns.

She noticed Genji carrying his bag, which she knew contained textbooks.

“Do you have classes this afternoon?”

Genji nodded. “Three of them.”

“Then what will you eat for lunch?” she asked in turn.

Genji froze, only then realizing he hadn’t prepared anything for himself.

He immediately replied, “I’ll just grab something at the cafeteria.”

“The cafeteria?” Sato Chinatsu’s frown deepened, and she tapped her fingers on the desk. She had initially intended to express her satisfaction with his diligence, reiterate their respective roles, and then dismiss him. However, seeing the overflowing bento and Genji’s slightly flustered demeanor, she inexplicably felt that sending him off to the cafeteria would be rather harsh.

With a sigh, Sato Chinatsu pushed the bento box towards him.

“Sit down and eat with me.”

“Huh?” Genji’s eyes widened.

“Stop prattling,” Sato Chinatsu’s tone was cool. “How could I possibly finish all this by myself? Do you expect me to waste food?”

“But, what if someone sees…?” Genji hesitated.

“People don’t just randomly knock on my door. And even if they see, it’s nothing. I’m merely showing concern for a student,” Sato Chinatsu asserted, creating a perfectly plausible excuse on the spot.

“Oh, right, weren’t you planning to submit something for publication? Where is it?”