I decided to take a seat on a chair in the kitchen, watching Kimura go about making the burrito.
After cracking the eggs into the bowl, he placed it on the counter and went to the fridge to take an avocado.
"Huh? Why are you sitting there?" he asked, noticing me sitting down. "If you're going to sit there, you might as well help me make this burrito."
"Sure."
"Well, start by grabbing the spoon then."
I stood up and walked to the utensil drawer, grabbing a spoon.
"Peel and dice the avocado, or do you know how to make a burrito bowl?"
"I do."
"Alright, you work on the avocado and the eggs. I'll make the tortillas."
I grabbed another bowl, peeled the avocado with the spoon, and cut it into small cubes. I placed the avocado in the bowl and discarded the skin. I then took the bowl of eggs that Kimura had cracked earlier and placed it next to the avocado bowl before grabbing it again.
With the spoon, I began whisking the eggs together, the metallic clink of the utensil against the bowl echoing through the kitchen. The mixture slowly turned from liquid to a pale, frothy yellow.
"You're done with them?" he asked, turning to me, before turning back to the countertop where he was kneading a ball of dough.
"Yeah." I nodded, placing the bowl on the counter beside the diced avocado.
"Well, I guess now… can you take the sausages out and shred some cheese?"
I stuck around for a while, giving Kimura a hand with the cooking. I wasn't particularly enthusiastic about it, but I didn't really mind either way.
**
As we placed the burrito bowls on the plate, Kimura's stomach growled in anticipation, while I remained stoic. The aroma of the burrito wafted through the air, and I do acknowledge that it smelled appetizing, despite my lack of hunger.
As Kimura took the first bite, he let out a satisfied sigh.
I observed him quietly, noticing the way he closed his eyes in pleasure as he savored the flavors. Although the meal was nothing extraordinary, it seemed to have hit the spot for Kimura.
As for me, I simply continued watching him eat without any particular emotion on my face.
"You can, eat some, if you want," Kimura offered, his mouth half-full with the scrumptious contents of the tortilla.
As I declined Kimura's hospitable offer, he persisted.
"Come on, have a bite. It's the least I can do for the help."
But, my hunger had not yet arrived, and I refused once again.
"In that case, why don't you sit down for a moment?" Kimura suggested, as he continued to savor his burrito.
I agreed, taking a seat and observing him. But my respite was brief, as I suddenly remembered that I have to do something.
"Actually, I have to go out," I announced, already heading towards the door.
"Oh, alright. See you later then," Kimura called out, his mouth still full of food.
Grasping the handle, I turned the door handle and left the room, my thoughts already shifting to my next task.
I fished my phone out of my pocket to check the time. Glancing at the screen, I saw that it was already 11:36 AM. The realization didn't come as a surprise, given the multiple failed attempts at cooking breakfast.
However, it wasn't my fault. Every mistake was made by Kimura. He had spilled the mixture a few times and dropped the tortilla twice. He even took a break here and there, stretching out his arms or rubbing his eyes, which explained why he was savoring the burrito with such satisfaction.
As the old adage goes, 'you can taste the effort in your own cooking.'
But that didn't apply to me, as I didn't feel anything - not even a hint of hunger.
As I stepped out of the dorm room, I pondered over Kimura's recent clumsiness. He wasn't the type to fumble, so there had to be some other explanation. Perhaps it had to do with the temperature of his hands - when I handed him the carton of eggs earlier, I couldn't help but notice how his skin felt hotter than normal. Or maybe it was the way he was carrying himself, slightly hunched over and with a hint of fatigue in his eyes.
I quickly deduced the possible cause for Kimura's clumsiness - he must have been running a fever. With that realization, I didn't dwell on it any further, and so I made my way down to the reception area, taking in the quiet emptiness of the place.
It wasn't surprising - this area was rarely visited by anyone.
I scanned the reception area, my eyes landed on a plush sofa tucked in the corner. Without hesitation, I made my way towards it, feeling the softness of the fabric beneath my fingertips as I settled into its cushions.
Surprisingly, the sofa was immaculate and free of dust, proof of the meticulousness of the cleaning staff. I couldn't help but wonder how often they came to maintain this area, though it seemed somewhat unnecessary given the lack of visitors.
The only ones who frequented this space were either coerced or the guards responsible for its upkeep, probably.
I sat poised on the sofa, gazing absently at the surroundings. I wasn't exactly thrilled about the upcoming date with Kinoshita, nor was I looking forward to it with bated breath, but I couldn't bear the thought of being late.
My mind was flooded with various scenarios, such as being sidetracked by taking a stroll at the schoolyard, only to be met with yet another unforeseen obstacle that could potentially impede my timely arrival.
Each moment trickled by. The soft tick-tock of the clock mounted on the wall in the reception area was a constant reminder of the seconds slipping away with each passing moment.
My gaze was fixated upon a single point - the wall.
Unlike most people whose eyes would wander around and whose bodies would fidget as they waited, I remained as still as a statue, my body frozen in place and my eyes didn't wander on the unremarkable surface before me.
"..ah, Mizuhara."
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