A bear in springtime, but not Murakami’s.

In the empty cooking classroom, the girl pressed the switch on the wall. The overhead lights flickered slightly, illuminating the entire room.

“Are you sure it’s all right? Using the cooking classroom without permission?”

“It’s fine. I’ll just write a usage permit in a bit.”

“The student council president really is convenient.”

“I’d prefer if you called me capable.”

“The student council president really is capable, then,” Tsukimiya Jin murmured helplessly.

The girl immediately looked satisfied, clearly admiring the boy’s flexible disposition.

Without delay, Hoshinomori Hoshino directed Tsukimiya Jin to wash clean the ingredients they had just carried from the cafeteria storeroom.

Unable to refuse her, Tsukimiya Jin began rinsing vegetables and peeling potatoes.

Even now, he was still bewildered. He had only wanted to spend a quiet fifty minutes in the infirmary—how had he ended up in the kitchen with the student council president?

“Hm? Tsukimiya, your technique looks quite practiced. Do you cook at home?”

“…Occasionally.”

It was true, but only on occasion. On days when his mother was absent, the Sakurakoji family usually handled his meals.

If he couldn’t rely on the Sakurakoji family, only then would he consider cooking himself. More often, he just bought ready-made food from the convenience store.

“I see, that’s surprising. Ah… just peeling is enough; leave the rest to me. Thank you.”

Tsukimiya Jin had expected the girl to put him to work, but apart from carrying ingredients and peeling potatoes, he did nothing else—just sat quietly to the side and watched.

At that moment, Hoshinomori Hoshino tied up her smooth, azure hair, letting it fall over her chest. Over her uniform, she wore an apron printed with a rabbit, looking every bit the picture of domestic skill.

“Hey, Tsukimiya, since you’re just sitting there, why not tell a few jokes?”

She spoke as she chopped the potatoes and soaked them in water.

“Do I look like someone who tells jokes?”

“Well, you’re clever, aren’t you? Smart people tend to tell good stories, or at least they know how to keep the conversation from getting dull.”

“Are you talking about yourself, President?”

“Do I seem like that kind of person? It’s oddly refreshing to be complimented by you, Tsukimiya—it makes me a little embarrassed.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not the type who feels the need to liven up the atmosphere.”

“Oh?”

The boy pointed at himself and said coolly, “I have no friends.”

“I see.”

Though she agreed aloud, the girl deftly divided the chicken breast with practiced skill, her knife work impressive enough that Tsukimiya Jin imagined she spent rare weekends learning recipes from popular homemakers online.

“If you have no friends, just go make some. Ah! Or are you one of those who enjoy being alone? You don’t seem the type.”

“No one actually likes being alone,” Tsukimiya Jin replied.

The girl waited a long time, but when Tsukimiya Jin didn’t continue, she asked, “And the rest of the sentence?”

“Is it necessary?”

“I just think it would sound more poignant coming from you.”

“Meaningless.”

Seeing the boy’s lack of enthusiasm, Hoshinomori Hoshino was undaunted. She moved skillfully through the steps—prepping ingredients, heating oil, all in smooth succession.

Tsukimiya Jin, bored, leaned against the counter in silence, his gaze absent on the pan in Hoshinomori Hoshino’s hands.

It wasn’t long before a delicious aroma wafted through the air.

“Actually, I’m pretty confident in my cooking.” Hoshinomori Hoshino remarked.

Tsukimiya Jin knew that.

He also knew she could make sandwiches, wrapping them beautifully in food-grade paper, cutting them neatly in half, placing them in an intricately woven bamboo basket, and covering them with a floral cloth.

If sauce stained the corner of his mouth, she would dab it away with a handkerchief and tease him for being greedy.

Her sparkling eyes seemed to swallow all the light in the universe.

There were her homemade fruit drinks, that elegant white dress, the sun hat swaying in the wind.

Truthfully, the sandwiches only counted as delicious. But he’d once called them divine, just to please her.

She believed him without question—so innocent.

Now, Tsukimiya Jin found himself missing that taste, perhaps because he would never experience it again.

“Tsukimiya, why do you look so distracted? This is the first time I’ve cooked for someone alone—can’t you show a little more enthusiasm?”

“The first time?”

“Yes, the very first.” She nodded.

Ah, so she truly didn’t remember.

The boy’s gaze dimmed as he looked out the window. The sky, bright blue in the morning, was now overcast, thick with clouds.

“In the end, you just want to eat, don’t you?”

“Don’t put it so bluntly! I’ll share some with you.”

“Oh.”

“I said, show a little more enthusiasm! With that expressionless face, I can barely manage my usual eighty or ninety percent.”

“I think eighty or ninety percent is plenty.”

“When faced with a cute underclassman, how could I not give it my all?”

“Cute underclassman?”

“That’s right!”

“Who?”

“You, of course!”

As expected, he chose to ignore her.

“Hey! After what I just said, there’s no high school boy alive who wouldn’t blush. What’s with you?”

“President, do you often use that line to tease the underclassmen? That’s pretty mean.”

“I don’t! Today was my first time—I wanted to see how it would work.”

Hoshinomori Hoshino glanced at him. “Sweet curry okay? It’s my preference.”

“You didn’t pick up any spicy curry blocks just now, did you?”

“Ah, you caught me. How embarrassing.”

For once, Hoshinomori Hoshino looked playful. She dropped the curry blocks into the pot. All that was left was to let it simmer, so she pulled up a chair and sat beside the boy.

“So, how’s your mood now?”

“My mood?”

“Do you feel like going to class with everyone?”

“President, was this whole act just to get me to attend cooking class?”

“Not entirely. I really did want curry today. But if you hadn’t helped carry the ingredients, I wouldn’t have managed.”

“Too weak from your stomachache?”

“Listen, I am a girl in the flower of youth. Even if you hear certain things, you must pretend you didn’t. That’s called manners.”

“That’s the so-called maiden’s heart?”

“Exactly! Have you got it?”

“I’ll remember.”

“Good boy!”

She ended with a sudden laugh.

Time slipped by as he chatted idly with Hoshinomori Hoshino, the simmering pot bubbling contentedly.

At her direction, Tsukimiya Jin served up steaming rice on two plates, while Hoshinomori Hoshino ladled the finished curry over them.

“How does it taste?”

“Delicious.”

He didn’t lie—it was true.

“Can you describe it for me?”

The boy considered.

“A springtime bear.”

Hoshinomori Hoshino looked at him in disbelief. “What does that even mean?”

“On a sunny spring day, a fluffy bear tumbles down from the mountaintop, cradling a jar of honey for me. He points at my nose and asks if it’s delicious. If I dare say a single word against it, he’ll swat me dead with his paw.”

“So you’re that springtime bear!” The girl’s eyes widened at once.

Tsukimiya Jin nodded, and after a long pause, added,

“You’re the one who wanted a joke.”

“…………”