Chapter 227: Two-Person Dinner
Turning toward the voice, Kouya saw a familiar middle-aged woman carrying a shopping basket, her round face glowing with warmth and satisfaction. She smiled with that unmistakable look—the kind that said, "I knew it!"—the expression of a self-proclaimed matchmaker whose prophecy had come true.
For a brief moment, Kouya froze before recognition hit him. Of course. It was that same auntie from the supermarket—the one who'd met Gabriel on her first day of school. The same woman who had "kindly" forced him to help carry Gabriel's groceries, inadvertently kicking off a whole string of troublesome events that had yet to stop.
The woman glanced at Gabriel, who was crouched near the produce section picking out vegetables with surprising focus. Her eyes gleamed as she turned to Kouya with a grin. "Young man, I knew from the very first time I saw you two that you'd end up together. You match perfectly! So... are you dating now?"
Kouya almost choked on air. 'Where exactly did you see any chemistry?! I definitely didn't!'
He tried to hide his grimace, but the woman wasn't done. She leaned closer and added in a proud, conspiratorial whisper, "My husband and I always watch the news. They keep saying Japan's aging because young people don't get married early enough! So if I can bring even one couple together, I'm doing my part for the nation."
Kouya rubbed his temple. 'Lady, your patriotism is terrifying. They should give you a medal for "Romantic Intervention in the Name of the Nation."'
The woman continued beaming like she'd just saved the world. Meanwhile, Gabriel was still blissfully focused on picking out the perfect autumn mackerel, completely unaware that she was being shipped by a random supermarket lady.
Before the conversation could spiral any further, Kouya grabbed the grocery basket and Gabriel's wrist and made a hasty exit. "We'll, uh, be going now! Have a good evening!"
Outside, the air had cooled, the evening sky glowing with layers of deep crimson and gold. The sunset stretched endlessly across the horizon, and the first city lights began to twinkle beneath it. The smell of street food drifted faintly on the breeze.
Gabriel tilted her head, her golden hair catching the dying light. "Who was that lady? She kept staring at me like she knew some embarrassing secret."
Kouya exhaled and briefly explained what had happened that day. Gabriel listened quietly, then let out a long sigh and muttered, "So that's what it was. No wonder you suddenly decided to help me carry my things. I thought you were being nice for once—but you were just following orders! Figures."
Kouya raised a brow. "Helping a total stranger without a reason would've been weird, wouldn't it?"
Gabriel pouted and folded her arms. For some reason, that answer made her glare at him. Then, without warning, she shoved her bag toward his chest. "Hey, carry this."
He blinked. "Why? I've already got the food and the drinks."
"It's heavy."
Kouya stared blankly at her. 'Heavy? That tiny bag weighs less than a cat.'
Gabriel looked away defiantly. "You carried it once before, didn't you? Then you can do it again."
He sighed but took it anyway, muttering under his breath about spoiled angels and their royal attitudes.
By the time they reached the apartment complex, dusk had deepened into a soft indigo. The streetlights flickered to life as the world grew quieter, their shadows stretching long behind them. When they finally reached the door, Kouya tried to hand her bag back, but Gabriel waved lazily. "Let's eat first. It's not like we've got anything better to do."
"Fine," he said, unlocking the door.
As soon as the lights came on, Gabriel strutted in like she owned the place—switching into house slippers, strolling straight to the fridge, and pulling out a drink without even asking.
Kouya's mouth twitched. 'Whose home is this again?! How are you this comfortable here?!'
He sighed. "What about the drinks you bought earlier?"
Gabriel blinked, looked at the can in her hand, and froze. "Ah! I forgot those existed! I saw your fridge and just... reacted."
He thought, 'That "instinct" needs serious retraining.'
After thinking for a moment, Gabriel shrugged. "I can't drink them all anyway. I'll just leave them here in your fridge. Next time I want one, I'll come get it."
Kouya deadpanned. "Wow, how convenient—for you."
A few minutes later, the lazy angel had already claimed the computer chair. She turned it on, crossed her legs, and called out, "Hurry up and make dinner! I'm starving!"
Kouya gave her a side-eye. 'You know you're hungry, yet you won't even move? You think food magically cooks itself?'
Still, he wordlessly reached into a cabinet and pulled out a neatly folded apron. The soft fabric smelled faintly of detergent and lavender. Vigne's handiwork, without a doubt. For a brief second, he pictured her working at the café, still in her uniform, focused and graceful. The image made a pang of guilt tug at his chest. Here he was, wearing the apron she washed, cooking dinner—not for her, but for this lazy, freeloading angel.
Shaking his head, he rolled up his sleeves and got to work. He wasn't one for traditional Japanese dishes—too mild for his taste. Instead, he preferred the richer flavors of the Chinese-style recipes Vigne had learned online and taught him to make.
Tonight's menu: stir-fried pork with green peppers, grilled mackerel with salt, braised mushrooms and pork, and tofu fish-head soup. A modest but hearty spread.
As the first sizzle filled the kitchen, the air grew thick with the scent of garlic, soy, and sizzling oil. Soon, the savory fragrance spread through the apartment like a warm blanket, irresistible and comforting. In the other room, Gabriel's game controller clicked slower and slower until finally—silence.
She peeked around the corner. "Is it done yet?"
"You've asked that three times."
She grinned. "That just means it smells too good."
He rolled his eyes. "It's ready."
Within seconds, she had washed her hands, grabbed the chopsticks, and helped set the table with surprising efficiency. When she finally sat down, she picked up a piece of stir-fried pepper pork, blew on it, and took a bite.
Her eyes sparkled instantly. "It's... amazing!"
Kouya raised an eyebrow. "What, did you expect me to cook like Satania?"
Gabriel swallowed and nodded solemnly. "Honestly, yeah. But this is as good as Vigne-san's cooking! I've decided—I'm eating here from now on!"
Kouya's face darkened. "Not happening."
She pouted, but it didn't stop her from cleaning her plate. She finished her first bowl of rice faster than he could blink, then froze mid-reach, torn between pride and hunger.
He smirked. "If you want seconds, there's more in the rice cooker."
She bit her lip. "No... I shouldn't. I drank too much juice earlier, and I'm supposed to be dieting."
"Then don't."
Her eyes darted to the cooker, then back to him. "But... if I don't, it'll go to waste. You wouldn't want to waste food, right?"
Kouya rubbed his forehead. 'This angel could argue her way through the gates of Heaven.'
After a long pause, she sighed and scooped herself half a bowl. "Fine. I'll run it off tomorrow morning."
Kouya chuckled. "If you wake up early for a jog, I'll start believing in miracles again."
Dinner ended with both of them leaning back in their chairs. Gabriel rubbed her stomach happily, looking blissfully full. A tiny grain of rice clung stubbornly to her lip.
Kouya squinted. "..."
"What?" she frowned, leaning back defensively. "Don't look at me like that. It's weird."
He pointed toward the sink. "Go wash the dishes."
Gabriel froze. "Wait, what? Oh—uh... right, I said I'd do that."
Her laugh was nervous, her movements slow. She glanced at the door, at her bag, then back at him. "You know, I should probably put my stuff away first—"
She tried to slip away quietly, tiptoeing toward the exit.
Thud.
Kouya's hand landed flat against the door, blocking her path. His shadow fell over her as he looked down from above, eyes calm but firm.
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