Although Kobayakawa-sensei had mediated a formal reconciliation between Kuroba Akira and Sumiya Ryouta, the aftershocks of the incident rippled quickly through the student body.
In just one afternoon, Akira was back to being isolated—only now, his label had changed. He was no longer "that unapproachable quiet kid," but had been upgraded to "that guy you don't mess with."
Not surprising. In his past school life, it had been the same. If there was a volatile classmate known for fighting, everyone else would just steer clear. Who knew when you might be the next one to get punched?
The only one who still spoke to Akira was Fujiyoshi Michio—maybe because he didn't belong to any of the "normie" groups or social circles.
Not that Akira cared what the rest of them thought. As long as Ryouta's buddies didn't come looking for revenge, he could live with it. Hopefully, Ryouta would keep his boys in check. If not, Akira was fully prepared to deliver a few more rounds of his "Personality Adjustment Punch."
In fact, this whole mess had an unexpected upside: none of the teachers tried to mess with him during afternoon classes.
Apparently, after witnessing the lunchtime beatdown in the staff room, they'd all decided Akira was not someone to toy with. No more pop quizzes, cold reads, or surprise callouts.
So things had returned to the original dynamic—only Kobayakawa-sensei still "singled him out with love."
Well, her and Anri Hitomi, who had consistently taken Akira's side.
Akira's stomach, however, wasn't quite as resilient. Growling with hunger after missing lunch, he barely made it to dismissal time. As the final bell rang, Anri appeared right on cue, standing before his desk.
"Kuroba-kun, it's club time."
"Oh… right…"
Akira replied listlessly, still mourning the lost bento. Anri had probably already shared it with the rest of the Literature Club by now.
But oddly enough, no one was coming over to start drama this time. Akira snuck a glance at Sumiya Ryouta, only to find the guy glancing back at him.
They made brief, awkward eye contact—Akira bracing for another outburst—but Ryouta simply flipped him the bird, then turned away, rounding up his friends and laughing as they made plans for after-school fun.
Wait… that's it? He's really letting this go?
Man… your loyalty as a simp is kinda shaky, huh?
Then again, when it came to simping, whether you end up with nothing or everything depends entirely on how your "master" feels. Maybe letting go really was the smart move—a chance to start fresh.
In any case, fewer problems for Akira. Tomorrow, he could eat Anri's lunch without having to sneak around.
With that comforting thought, he stood up and turned to Fujiyoshi, who was still packing his books.
"See you tomorrow, Fujiyoshi-kun. Thanks for still being willing to talk to me."
"Ah—yeah! See you!"
For some reason, Akira saw a glint of admiration in Fujiyoshi's eyes…
Huh. Is he the type who looks up to the strong?
You'd make a great little underling… too bad I gave up the gang leader life years ago. My dream now is to live off a woman's cooking.
"Let's go, Class Rep."
"Mhm. See you tomorrow, Fujiyoshi-kun."
Anri nodded with a gentle smile, also bidding Fujiyoshi goodbye.
"Y-yes! Take care!"
Ah… never mind. He's just super polite to everyone.
Once they stepped out into the hallway, Anri pointed in the opposite direction of the stairs.
"Kuroba-kun, let's swing by the home ec room. I got permission from the teacher earlier to use the microwave."
"Huh?"
Still not following, Akira blinked in confusion. Anri smiled playfully.
"The bento. You're not going to eat it?"
"There's still some left?"
"There wasn't any to share. I never went to the clubroom. I didn't give it to anyone else."
Then, after glancing around and confirming most students were headed downstairs with their backs turned, Anri leaned in and whispered in Akira's ear.
"Because this bento… was made just for you. I hid it in the home ec room."
"Oh!"
Bless! I still get to eat!
No need to go home to face Obaa-san's hellish curry tonight. Oh hell yes!
"Let's move!"
Akira took off like a man possessed, and Anri laughed as she followed behind him.
"Geez, don't be so desperate."
The two arrived at the home ec room. The three-tiered bento Anri had made sat untouched inside one of the kitchen cabinets, just as she'd left it.
As the microwave reheated the meal, Akira could hardly sit still. He was practically turning into a hungry ghost on the spot.
Finally… finally…
Finally, I get to eat something that isn't curry or hotpot!
When the food was ready, Akira opened the bento like it was a treasure chest.
In that moment, he swore he saw the sparkling light effect they used in gourmet anime.
One tier was rice—carefully shaped into four bite-sized onigiri, topped with sesame and seaweed flakes, adorned with little ham-and-egg flower rolls on shiso leaves.
The second and third tiers were split between meat and vegetables: crispy shrimp tempura, karaage chicken, thick slices of teriyaki beef, even crab legs and halved boiled eggs. On the veggie side, there was a fresh salad of mixed greens, separated by lotus root slices, and the dessert section had strawberries and apple bunnies for a sweet-and-sour balance.
It was clear she'd put thought into nutrition and presentation—protein, veggies, carbs, color balance. All done with care.
This is Lv2 home-cooking, baby! Absolutely demolishes Obaa-san's stuff!
Good thing Anri hadn't opened this in front of the class. There was no way anyone would believe this was "meant to be shared." It screamed single-serving—albeit large enough to completely fill up a growing boy.
Akira felt tears welling in his eyes.
Class Rep… I swear eternal loyalty to your cooking!
Still, a quick pre-meal hand clasp was a must. Akira had gotten used to this little Japanese custom.
Anri handed him a pair of chopsticks with a soft smile.
"Please enjoy."
"Thanks for the meal!"
Akira dug in like a man starved. Anri, watching him devour the food with gusto, pulled out a white thermos.
"Don't eat too fast, Kuroba-kun. I don't want you choking. I also made miso soup—it should be warm but not too hot now."
"Bless!"
Akira's mouth was stuffed, but he couldn't stop. He wanted to savor the flavors, but his stomach had other ideas.
And the taste—flawless.
Perfect seasoning, rich variety, fresh ingredients. On those merits alone, this bento was easily a 95 out of 100.
And most important of all—it was free. A gifted meal. A win by sheer charisma.
Food tastes better when you don't pay for it.
Ah… soft rice tastes better when it's earned with a soft smile.
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T/N: tsk kreuz quick make me a bento :sob: