Hearing her teasing laugh through the phone, Shiro Sakamaki's temple throbbed with irritation. With a click, he hung up the call, a vein twitching on his forehead.
Sure enough, she's a hopeless older single... her thoughts are never pure.
Maybe it was the medicine starting to take effect, but the girl—Nanami Aoyama—soon stirred awake. Her eyes fluttered open, still dazed, as she took in her unfamiliar surroundings. Her gaze fell to the IV needle in her arm, and she jerked upright in alarm.
A sharp tug from the line pulled her back down—right into someone's chest.
"Relax," came a calm, gentle voice from behind. "The doctor said your condition's quite serious. I already spoke with your employer, so just rest here for now."
She looked up and recognized the voice—it was the same person who had accepted the takeaway earlier.
"Thank you for looking after me... but I have to return to my school dormitory. I can't trouble you any further."
Her words were resolute, almost stern. Shiro sighed. So she was the stubborn type.
From the way Hinata had called her "Little Nanami" earlier, her determined attitude, and that high ponytail—he was almost certain. Aoyama Nanami... from Sakurasou.
Still, he wanted to be sure.
"You're from Suimei High, right?"
She nodded. "Yes, I'm a student from the general department."
"Alright, that makes things easier. I'll handle it—just focus on getting better."
He stepped out onto the rooftop and called Chihiro, giving her a quick rundown of the situation. As flaky as she could be, Chihiro took student health seriously. Once she got Nanami's full name, she promised to take care of everything and told Shiro to keep her rested.
When he returned inside, the house had quieted down. The sisters had gone to their rooms, except for the energetic Yotsuba and the nurse who stayed behind to monitor Nanami.
"It's all settled," Shiro said. "Your school's been informed—you don't have to worry about anything. Just focus on recovering."
He glanced at the table. "Want something to eat? There's still a bit left from earlier. Nothing fancy, just some steamed chawanmushi."
Nanami hesitated, shaking her head. She was already uncomfortable being looked after—accepting food too felt like crossing a line.
She was proud and principled, someone who hated relying on others. Even now, sick and exhausted, she didn't want to appear weak.
Shiro read her thoughts easily.
"It's leftovers," he said flatly. "If you don't eat it, I'm throwing it away."
Yotsuba chimed in cheerfully, "Yeah! Don't worry, Aoyama-san! Shiro-kun's loaded!"
That last part earned her a sharp glance from Shiro. Why does she make it sound like I'm trying to buy someone off?
Nanami hesitated again, then finally nodded with resolve. "Okay... but I'll repay you for everything."
"Sure, sure. I'll warm it up. Yotsuba, can I borrow your kitchen?"
"No problem! I'll stay here with Nanami-san, You can rest in peace."
He blinked. Did she just say 'go in peace'? What is this, my funeral?
Shaking off the weird phrasing, Shiro stepped into the kitchen and got to work. He turned on the stove and the range hood, steaming the tea bowl over low heat. A layer of plastic wrap prevented water from dripping into the dish, preserving the flavor.
While waiting, his phone buzzed—Haruno Yukinoshita had sent a message.
Shiro Sakamaki: [???]
Haruno: [So? Am I cute?]
Haruno: [Excited yet?]
Shiro: [Heart's racing.]
Haruno: [Then... Shiro-kun, can you be my... >.< ?]
Shiro: [Sorry, I'm the man you can never have!]
Shiro: [Got something to do. Chat later.]
Back at the Yukinoshita mansion, Haruno—dressed in silky pajamas—smirked as she stared at the screen.
Shiro-kun, you'll be mine one day.
Back in the kitchen, steam was rising. He turned off the heat, unwrapped the bowl, and a warm, savory aroma filled the room. It might've lost a bit of flavor from reheating, but for someone sick, it was perfect.
When he returned, Nanami was sitting upright, sipping water. He placed the dish in front of her.
"Here. Eat while it's hot."
The smell tempted her immediately. Though it wasn't cooked by Chef Hinata herself, it still had the unmistakable signature taste of the Fog House.
And for someone who often skipped meals to save for tuition, it was practically a luxury.
Her eyes landed on the chawanmushi. She knew its price. Even a single dish cost more than her daily food budget. She made a silent vow to repay it all somehow.
Shiro noticed her conflicted expression but didn't say anything. He respected her pride and determination—it would be cruel to belittle it by telling her to "not worry about it."
Instead, he chose a gentler route.
"Nanami Aoyama, right?"
"Yes?" she replied, confused by the sudden formal tone.
"I just spoke with Teacher Chihiro. She told me a bit about your situation. I admire your dedication. Actually, I have a part-time job opening. Would you be interested?"
Her eyes widened. "Huh...? Me?"
"Just call me Shiro Sakamaki. I'm a first-year too—same as you."
"Wait... you're a student?"
She blinked at him, genuinely stunned. Given his looks, height, and where he lived, she had assumed he was already an adult.
It hadn't even crossed her mind they were the same age.
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