The Cultural Festival 4
The vibrant yukata, with its red-toned obi and ribbon, suited her perfectly.
However, Chika herself was blushing profusely and seemed quite embarrassed.
“Um, this might be a bit too bold…”
There was a reason for her concern: the hem of her yukata was incredibly short, revealing her thighs quite liberally.
It was the kind of mini-length yukata often associated with the image of something a gal might wear.
Sōma had seen Chika in revealing outfits plenty of times, so he had assumed it was her choice, but apparently, it wasn’t her decision.
Miki, trying to encourage her, patted her blushing best friend’s shoulders.
“It’s fine, it’s fine. It looks great on you, Chika.”
“Really…?”
“I guarantee it. It’s a festival, after all. It’s more fun to go all out.”
It turned out to be Miki’s choice.
To his further surprise, Miki herself was wearing a similarly short yukata.
Her tall stature made it look quite fitting in a different way from Chika’s.
“Plus, the cuter you dress, the more people will compliment you.”
She added, glancing his way for a moment.
…Was she telling me to compliment Chika?
The scenario where a guy praises a dolled-up heroine is all too common in shoujo manga. It seemed she was telling Sōma to do just that.
It was a hassle, and he wondered why he had to do such a thing, but then he remembered their recent date.
When he complimented Chika on her outfit, she was incredibly happy.
Her smile full of joy was very cute and seeing that smile again wouldn’t be a bad thing.
“…Well, if the opportunity arises,” he muttered quietly to himself.
While he was absentmindedly watching the group of girls, Shōhei shook his arm vigorously.
“Hey hey, do you think we could somehow take a picture of Saito-san in that outfit?”
He tried to appear calm, but his eyes were bloodshot with excitement.
It was a bit creepy.
“I get where you’re coming from, but that might be difficult.”
Sōma replied, slightly taken aback, pointing to the “No Photography” sign on the wall.
It seemed they had put up such notices to prevent trouble, given the number of high school girls in yukata.
“I can’t imagine Saito leading the charge in breaking the rules.”
“That’s too bad.”
Shōhei lamented, his voice filled with disappointment.
Sōma understood his feelings. It was rare for Miki to dress so revealingly.
She had been dressed in a neat pantsuit when she had barged into Sōma’s house last month and during the autumn festival.
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“Hey, what if you ask Satomi-san to take a ‘two-shot’ photo with Saito-san?”
Shōhei plotted.
“That way, it would be natural to take the picture, and Saito-san wouldn’t say no. Then we can edit the photo to keep just Saito-san’s part.”
“That’s too complicated. Besides, why are you asking me? You should ask Chika yourself.”
“I’m asking you because you have a much higher chance of success than I do. If you get the photo, I’ll treat you to something. Please? Please?”
Shōhei, who said he has feelings for Miki to Sōma and Chika, was desperate and unreserved.
Now that he no longer needed to hide his feelings, it was natural for him to want to make the most of it.
“Alright, alright. If I have time, I’ll ask for it.”
“You promised! It’s a deal!”
Overwhelmed by Shōhei’s persistence, Sōma nodded, feeling a profound sense of how things had changed with Shōhei that he would ask such a favor.
***
Unfortunately for Shōhei, there was absolutely no time to take photos.
The “Matsuri-ya” run by Class 1-4 had turned out to be unexpectedly popular.
“Welcome! Please take a seat over here.”
“I’d like two sets of Mini Americans, please.”
“I’ll have one cheese.”
“Alright, please wait just a moment.”
The number of boys lured in by the girls in yukata, including Chika, was significant, but the baby castella were also well-received.
Repeat customers brought in new ones, and the number of customers steadily increased.
“It’s amazing how many customers we have, right, Ichinose?”
While busily baking baby castella, Wakui, who was next to him holding a pick, spoke with a happy tone.
“It’s thanks to your suggestions, Wakui. It wouldn’t have been like this with just my single variety.”
“There you go again. It wasn’t just me, you know.”
The variety of baby castella that everyone in charge of baking had discussed and decided on the day before were all highly praised.
Sōma’s plain variety researched and perfected with a ratio of soy sauce to mirin.
The Mini American that Wakui came up with.
A combination of cheese and mixed vegetables that a classmate suggested.
And ones that contained small cut pieces of gummy candy.
“But I never thought the ones with gummies would sell the best…”
“Could it be that you’re a bit jealous?”
“Just a little.”
Originally, it all started when Sōma suggested repurposing Chika’s arrangement by adding anko.
However, the idea of scooping the soft anko with a spoon was immediately rejected for being too troublesome.
Then, he proposed using small cut pieces of yokan instead, but it evolved further—why not gummies instead of red bean paste?
Thus, the idea strayed far from Sōma’s initial suggestion.
And yet, it was the best-selling item.
The gummies softened by the heat turned into a delicious melty fruit sauce.
As someone aspiring to be a patissier, it would be a lie to say he wasn’t frustrated. But at the same time, it also renewed his determination to strive even harder.
“Two sets with gummies and one American set, please.”
Chika, in her yukata, came bustling over with a tray.
“Roger that.”
Using a pick, Sōma quickly transferred the steaming baby castellas from the hot plate to paper plates, then placed them on a tray.
“Thank you very much!”
She took the ordered items and hurriedly turned on her heel to deliver them to the customers.
It had been like this since the opening.
They exchanged words, but they weren’t really having a conversation.
“Thank you for waiting!”
While casting a glance at Chika, who was cheerfully serving customers, Sōma felt a tinge of loneliness.
It was good that they were both busy with work, and since they had to keep their cooperative relationship a secret within the school, it was correct not to converse too familiarly.
However, since they had gone to the autumn festival together and sampled baby castella while discussing the flavors, it was only natural that he wanted to talk more.
…If we have the same break time, maybe we could sneak off somewhere to eat something.