Notes: Very burnt out. This wasn't written recently. Inspiration will come when it comes, I suppose.

oOo

"Onii-chan?"

Komachi's voice broke through my concentration. I finished writing one last sentence and then stuck my pen between the pages of my journal to mark my place.

"What's up, Komachi?"

"I just wanted to let you know that the bath's free."

"Thanks. I'll be just a minute."

I thought that'd be the end of the conversation, so I turned back to my journal. Even though I'd already recorded most of the important events that had happened today, I hadn't finished. Even if they were inconsequential, I'd feel guilty if I didn't mention how great of a little sister Komachi was when she welcomed me home with lunch and a smile. Or the delicious chiraishizushi that Mom had made for dinner tonight. Since she really only had the time to make one or two meals for the family every week, Mom liked to go all out on those occasions, and I made sure to record what she made every time. There were quite a few pictures of our dinner now saved on my phone. [2]

I also noticed on my phone that I'd been taking more and more pictures recently. Even everyday activities that should be habitual and unchanging I'd record, if only because recognizing that same consistency across time was somehow just as important to me as documenting change. Indeed, today I felt weirdly restless if I didn't record everything that I'd experienced, no matter how mundane or ordinary. I'd get that feeling; the one where I'd feel like I was losing something I never really knew that I had. Maybe that was the new norm for my situation. But then, could the memories that I made each day really be considered "mine" if I could never remember them? If I didn't hold onto them tightly through meticulous records of what happened each and every day, then those memories would simply slip away. As if I was only borrowing them for a short period of time.

I was brought out of my thoughts by a thump behind me, which actually made me jump in surprise. I'd assumed that Komachi had already left my room. She normally wouldn't even come into my room once it got late into the evening, usually opting to bang on my door to let me know that the bath was ready. It was another thing that I loved about Komachi; she knew that I appreciated her presence, and that I loved spending time with her. But she was also conscious of when I needed some time alone. And so, usually after dinner, we'd both go back to our rooms to prepare for the next day, and get some time to ourselves.

So it was quite strange for me when I turned around to find Komachi sitting on my bed.

"Komachi? Is something wrong?"

She twisted a lock of her hair between her fingers as she considered my question.

"I guess… I guess I just wanted to see how you were doing, Onii-chan."

"What do you mean? I'm fine! I'm not even using the crutches anymore and I'll be out of this walking boot in no time. Everything should go back to normal soon." I said, trying for a laugh.

Komachi, however, didn't laugh.

"I meant your memories, Onii-chan," she said, and her voice quivered. "When are you gonna be able to remember things again?"

I dropped my hands into my lap and looked down at my feet. For the longest time, I wasn't sure of how to answer her.

"I don't know, Komachi. I don't know when I'll be better."

"Mom and Dad told me not to bother you about this stuff, you know?" Komachi began, and her voice was definitely shaky now.

Damn it. If there was one thing I had promised myself a very long time ago it was that I could not, under any circumstances, make Komachi cry. That was the duty of older brothers everywhere, after all. We were supposed to protect our little sisters; make them smile and laugh. But not cry. We were never supposed to make them cry.

I wrapped her up into a hug.

"Komachi, I'm sorry about all of this. I'm sorry that I haven't been able to be a great big brother to you since the accident."

"What are you apologizing for, you big dummy?" Komachi managed to choke out, the tears falling in earnest. "That should be me, Onii-chan. I'm being selfish and getting upset because you can't remember if we go out and do something fun together. I'm angry and frustrated because I don't know what I should be doing. I'm your little sister; I'm supposed to help you no matter what happens, but I feel so helpless. I feel so useless because there's nothing I can do to help you."

I gently stroked her back, whispering in her ear soothingly.

"None of this is your fault, Komachi. Why are you beating yourself up so much? I'm doing pretty well all things considered. I got hit by a car going close to full speed on a public road, after all, but there won't be any permanent damage. Even my amnesia; one day I'll be able to remember things overnight again. I've been keeping up with my journals and I've also been documenting everything that's been happening every day with my phone. Once my memory processing ability heals, it'll be like nothing's changed. It'll just be like I was away on a trip or something for a few months."

"But what if your amnesia doesn't get better? What if you're always going to forget everything that happens each day?"

"That won't happen," I said with more conviction than I actually felt. "The doctors said that this isn't a permanent condition. We just have to trust them and be patient. You're the greatest little sister in the world, so I'm sure that just being patient for a few months is nothing to you, right?"

Komachi hiccupped and nodded at the same time, which made her head jerk in a funny way.

It brought a smile to my face and Komachi must have seen it because she couldn't help herself either, a small smile working its way across her face.

We didn't say anything for a little while. I simply enjoyed being in her presence, holding her. My time with Komachi had always been precious to me, but this moment felt even more special.

"What are you going to do with all your free time now?" Komachi suddenly asked, raising her head from my chest.

"Hmm?" I was still a bit lost in my thoughts, and didn't expect her question at all.

"I mean, you're not really attending classes right? You're just sitting through them so that you can get credit for being in school. Since you don't really have to study anymore, or at least not in the same way that you used to when you were trying to get into Soubu, I'm worried that you're going to run out of things to do. How are you going to spend all of your free time?"

"Funny that you should ask, actually. I've been thinking of picking up a new hobby."

"Oh?" Komachi sat up, looking interested. "What hobby?"

"I've been thinking of learning how to play guitar."

Komachi's eyes widened. "Guitar? Music? But the only musical experience you've had was-"

"Yeah yeah, the school choir in grade school, which was a miserable experience all-around. I know I complained about it all the time."

"So then why…?"

I sighed.

"I was reading up some medical literature on my condition, and one of the things people mentioned was that, even though my memories are lost every time I fall asleep, there are some things that are retained across the days."

Komachi sat up looking interested and motioned for me to continue.

"Emotions are a big thing. Since emotions are the result of chemical reactions in our brain, they've got nothing to do with memory. If I go to sleep happy, I'll wake up naturally happier. And if I go to sleep upset, I'll likely wake up upset. Mom has stressed the importance of going to sleep in a good mood because of this. She's the one that has to break the news of my condition to me every morning. And if I'm already upset, I tend to take the news a lot harder."

"So you need to cheer up before you sleep, huh? And all I did was go and cry on you…"

I ruffled her hair. "Don't worry so much about it, Komachi. Spending time with you automatically means that I'll be happier before going to bed."

"Uh huh," she replied skeptically.

"Aw, don't be like that. I'm serious! I'm definitely feeling better now than before you came in."

She rolled her eyes, clearly not believing me. "Whatever, Onii-chan. You still haven't explained why you chose music."

"Oh, right. The other thing that people retain across days, even if they can't store their memories, is what's called procedural memory. It's an unconscious type of memory; it's not like I'm actively remembering anything. But I'm able to utilize my procedural memory to help me perform certain tasks automatically, and it's not affected by my condition."

"I don't really get it." Komachi said, her face screwed up in thought.

"Procedural memory is kind of like muscle memory; if you do something enough times it becomes ingrained in you and you know how to do it automatically. Think of it like knowing how to ride a bike. Once you learn it, you won't forget it. When you ride a bike, you're not actively remembering how to ride it through your long-term memories, you're just going off instincts. Does that make sense?"

"Oh, that makes sense. So you're trying to find something that you can learn and remember how to do without… like… actually remembering?"

I laughed at her description. "Yeah, pretty much. Music and art are the two main things that I was looking at. Apparently, my amnesia won't stop me from retaining some ability to play an instrument. Even if reading sheet music will be harder for me, since I'll only really remember what little we were taught back in grade school."

"But you think that you can learn how to play guitar? Why'd you pick guitar anyways?"

"I hope that I can learn how to play. And as for why guitar… to be honest I wasn't really sure what I wanted to play. So I was over in the music section of the library the other day and someone from school approached me. Apparently she's a guitar enthusiast and offered to teach me. I didn't really have any better ideas, so I guess I just went along with it."

Komachi perked up again at my words.

"She? So it's a girl huh? Are you sure that you're not trying to learn guitar just to impress this girl, hmmm?"

"Oi, Komachi. Do you really think so little of your brother that you believe I'd pick an instrument just for a girl?"

Komachi gave me a sideways glance. It was clear what she believed.

"That hurts, Komachi. That hurts."

oOo

With much effort, I managed to kick Nee-san out of the apartment before the time when Hikigaya-kun would arrive. Having Nee-san and Hikigaya-kun in the same room together… that just sounded like a disaster waiting to happen.

We had agreed that he would arrive at my apartment by one PM. He was running a little late. At least he'd had the courtesy to let me know over LINE.

Even so, I was nervous. Thinking back now, I wasn't sure why I had even approached Hikigaya-kun yesterday. And I definitely could not understand why I had decided to offer to teach him to play the guitar. It was quite unlike me. But somehow, I found that I wasn't too upset about the way things had turned out.

It wasn't until after I had gotten home the day before, safely ensconced in my room after locking the door to ensure that Nee-san couldn't barge in unexpectedly, that I pulled out my Martin and decided to just play for a little bit.

That was fun. There wasn't always time to play, especially during the weekdays. But after a while I put the guitar aside and rummaged through my storage closet until I found my older guitar. The first one that I had ever owned, purchased on a whim when I was just entering junior high. I tuned it carefully, playing a few bars of one of my favorite songs; Yanagi Nagi's popular single Yukitoki. It had been a little while since I had last used it, even if I held nothing but fond memories for it.

Hikigaya-kun didn't own a guitar of his own, although he had assured me that he would purchase his own soon enough. Still, in the meantime, I'd offered to lend him my old guitar. I figured there wasn't much point in asking him to spend upwards of tens of thousands of yen on a guitar if he quickly lost interest in it.

After I'd finished tuning the guitar, I then spent an hour or so yesterday coming up with a lesson plan. Since Hikigaya-kun was a complete beginner, I'd have to start at the very beginning. The first few steps were always the most difficult, probably because they were the least interesting parts of playing guitar. Nobody wanted to memorize guitar string names and the order in which they were strung, but that would have to be the first step in learning how to play. Finger positioning and how to strum would probably come next. I was a classically trained guitarist, so I only learned how to use a pick after I had already mastered finger-picking. But if Hikigaya-kun so desired, I could teach him how to use a pick as well. And then perhaps, by the end of our time together, Hikigaya-kun could play a few chords.

I knew that most people who desired to learn guitar had this rose-tinted image of themselves playing concerts or rock songs like some Western movie hero. But the process to reach that level of skill could take years of practice. It required more than talent; hard work was a necessity, as per usual. I wondered if Hikigaya-kun had the patience for it.

The intercom to my apartment buzzed. Hikigaya-kun must have been downstairs. I carefully placed my old guitar on the table and hurried over to the intercom, pressing the unlock button. I checked my appearance briefly in the mirror. I thought I looked just fine, so I quickly headed to the kitchen and put on the kettle. I wondered if Hikigaya-kun enjoyed black tea.

My doorbell rang soon after. Turning the heat all the way down to make sure that nothing would catch on fire, I quickly moved to the door and opened it. Hikigaya-kun stood in the doorway, a few notebooks in his hands.

We stared at each other at first, unsure of what to say. The silence grew awkward, until Hikigaya-kun broke it.

"Err, hi Yukinoshita-san. Can I…uh… can I come in?"

"Oh! My apologies, Hikigaya-kun. Please come in!"

I stepped back to let him in, and he gratefully crossed the threshold to my apartment. After setting down his notebooks carefully on the table next to the entrance, he took a quick glance around.

"Your place is nice," he said. "Do you mind if I take a few pictures?"

"Ah! Thank you for the compliments. Although, why would you desire to take pictures of this place? It is nothing special."

He shrugged, "It's okay if you don't want me to. But I like to document things. Places I've been and all that."

I laughed a little. "Well I'm not sure if my house qualifies as a tourist site or something similar where there should be a need to document it, but if you would like to take some pictures, please feel free."

The whistle of the kettle reminded me that I still needed to take it off the fire, so I quickly excused myself and left him to his devices.

When I returned to the living room with my serving tray, a teapot filled with carefully brewed Wakoucha, and two mugs, I found Hikigaya-kun sitting on the sofa. He was snapping what looked to be a landscape shot of the living room on his phone.

I set down the tray and carefully started pouring tea into the mugs.

Click!

I looked up to find him pointing his phone at me.

"Ah!" He noticed my gaze. "Sorry, I just thought you looked really professional and all, serving tea. Like a proper tea barista. I can delete the picture if you want."

I shrugged since I didn't feel particularly strongly either way. Ever since my youth, with all the galas that my family attended, I had learned to deal with the photos that people would take of us. I learned to always look my best. I had to admit, however, that in that moment I'd been completely caught unawares. I hoped that I didn't look too terrible in his photo.

"I wasn't aware that you also documented people," I quipped as I placed his mug of tea in front of him.

He murmured his thanks and took a sip. His eyes widened and he stared appreciatively down at his cup.

"This tea is really good, Yukinoshita-san!"

"Thank you for your compliments, Hikigaya-kun. It's Wakoucha tea, from Shizuoka. One of my favorites."

"I've never heard of it, but I'll mention it to my parents. I know my dad loves good tea," he replied, taking another sip.

We enjoyed our drinks in silence, before Hikigaya-kun's attention turned towards the guitar which I had carefully laid on the table earlier.

"Is that yours, Yukinoshita-san?" he asked carefully, admiring the instrument.

"My old one," I replied, picking it up with an air of fondness. "I played this for three years."

"Wow," he said quietly. "You must really love it, huh?"

I nodded. "I love the art of playing and creating music. It's a different form of creative expression. What I especially love, however, is that music is always open to interpretation and adaptation. The same song or the same piece, it can hold completely different meanings for different people And the truly great songs? They'll stay with you forever."

I stopped, wondering if I'd said too much. I was sure I was blushing once more, but Hikigaya-kun didn't mention it. Or perhaps he simply failed to notice. Instead, he asked a simple question. It was an innocent question, something that anybody probably would have asked. But I wouldn't realize for a very long time just how significant the moment would be.

"I know that I'm here to learn how to play, but… before we start… can I hear you play something?"

"Eh?" I was caught off guard. I hadn't prepared anything. I mean sure, I could probably play a few songs spontaneously. But I usually didn't play for an audience. Still, Hikigaya-kun was looking at me so expectantly, as if his most ardent desire was to hear me play.

I hummed a little to myself and strummed a few chords gently, then paused.

"I haven't… practiced this or anything, so please forgive my mistakes. This is Ref:rain, by Aimer."

And then I began to play. [1]

Raining… one summer afternoon, an umbrella kept us safe from falling rain

Kissing… gently, I kissed away all the tears that were streaming down your face.

I still can't let go of the memories of that rainy day

The first few chords weren't quite as crisp as I would have preferred. Ref:rain's verses generally followed the same five chords, although I had added a little bit of flair to the classic arrangement. The chords weren't meant to be played particularly loudly, but since each individual one needed to ring out, they had to be played with crystal clarity. Still, at least my voice didn't warble, and I hadn't forgotten the lyrics.

Miss you… outside my window pane, everything I see becomes a faded blur

Breezing… I saw a rainbow, but it vanished into the sky

I hope that it doesn't start to rain tomorrow

I remembered the first time I'd heard this song. It was during my last year of junior high, right after entrance exams were finished. My parents had been focused on Nee-san and her university exams at the time, so on weekends I was pretty much given free rein to wander Chiba, so long as I was home by seven. It was a rainy, dreary day, much as the lyrics themselves described, and I remembered that I had just finished reading Miaki's Three Days of Happiness. I never considered myself much of a romantic, but that story resonated with me so strongly that I spent days afterwards considering its message about alienation and the true meaning of happiness. I wasn't sure why it had struck a chord so deeply within me, but it had occupied my thoughts for some time after I had finished.

I no longer know what to believe

Filling my head with empty dreams

Nothing but you're a part of me

I'd spent a long time after finishing Three Days of Happiness reflecting on myself. I had convinced myself after the entire fiasco with Hayama-kun that I could rise above the need for companionship. That friendship was a luxury that wasn't required; that I could forge my own happiness and sense of self-worth in the world. I'd always excelled academically, and I knew I did well on my entrance exams. I knew that I was beautiful, and that the world was inexorably, inevitably attracted to my appearance. I had my hobbies, such as my music. I'd come a long way with the guitar in three years.

In short, I thought that I was happy. Until I realized that perhaps I had been wrong about myself.

Still, it's never enough

It'll never fade away

When I take your hand I still remember how we felt that day

On that particular, dreary day, I remembered visiting a cafe, the name of which I have long since forgotten, and ordering some tea. During these cafe excursions, I liked to stream some melancholic pop songs on Spotify. I hadn't made any specific playlist on the streaming service, mostly because I wanted to discover new songs. Sometimes, if I really liked something, I'd go home and look up the song before trying to play an arrangement of it myself on the guitar.

I'd chosen a window seat on that particular day and had been sitting at the table for quite some time, my novel for the day splayed out in front of me. But I hadn't been paying it much attention, instead choosing to stare out at the rain falling endlessly from the sky and wondering if the strange feeling in my chest could be attributed to a word that I hadn't considered in a very long time.

Loneliness.

I wondered if that was how Kusonoki also felt, walking through the rain after being rejected by the girl he'd considered his last hope. [4]

What a good thing we lose

What a bad thing we knew

These words I want to say are soaking through me like the rain

Ref:rain had started playing without warning, while I had been staring rather aimlessly out the window. The first few chords weren't anything special, but I could tell immediately that it was Aimer singing. Her voice was so distinctive. I wondered if my singing would ever reach that level where an audience could instantly recognize it as mine.

I wondered if, after today, Hikigaya-kun would be able to recognize my singing.

Still, it's never enough

I'm not brave enough to say

All the precious words I practiced in my mind each painful day

I fell in love with the song from that very first listen through. So much so that I quickly jotted down the title of the song in order to make it easier for myself to find later. That sense of longing for someone, that inability to say the words that I really wanted to say, combined with all the self-reflection and doubts that I'd had. It all came together in those few short minutes while the song was playing.

I remembered the barista coming over to check on me, a look of serious concern on his face; he'd asked if I was alright. I'd smiled and said that everything was fine, even as the tears had continued to stream down my face.

What a good thing we lose

What a bad thing we knew

If I'd never held your hand in mine would we be smiling now?

As the last chord slowly faded away into nothingness, I took a deep breath before I looked up at Hikigaya-kun. He was staring at me wide-eyed, as if in a trance. But the moment he caught my eye, it must have galvanized something in him because he began to applaud. It was quite an enthusiastic response.

"That was… brilliant." He gushed. "I didn't know that you were so multi-talented Yukinoshita-san. Your singing was so good, and the music was a perfect accompaniment."

I ducked my head with slight embarrassment at his high praise.

"Damn," he continued. "Now I really wish that I recorded that performance. Have you shared any of your singing or playing online?"

I shook my head. "I don't usually play for an audience, Hikigaya-kun."

His eyes widened. "You don't?"

"I prefer not to."

"So then why…-"

I hesitated, wondering the same thing. Why had I chosen to share something so personal with him? He was, after all, still practically a stranger.

"I supposed that since you would be my student moving forward, I should give you a glimpse of my abilities. But please refrain from expecting recurring performances, Hikigaya-kun."

In the end, I chose to give him another excuse. Once more, he bought it. But I still wanted to change the subject. And we had also been wasting time.

"Now then, Hikigaya-kun. Let's begin your instruction."

oOo

May 21

My first guitar lesson was today. I woke up early once more this morning and spent a couple hours reading through my journals. I don't think I ever anticipated learning guitar, much less as someone still suffering from amnesia. It felt like an irresponsible decision. I'd considered canceling on Yukinoshita for a brief moment, but quickly discarded that idea. After all, I'd agreed to these lessons, and she'd gone out of her way to help me, even suggesting we meet up after school each day so that I could play, since I'd be borrowing her guitar until I could afford my own.

After a quick lunch I'd sped off to Yukinoshita's apartment, but I probably miscalculated the travel time because I wound up a bit late. Her apartment really was quite posh though. I asked her if I could snap some pictures of the place. It had become a daily habit of mine to document places that I visited. I saved them under the places folder of my laptop so that I could "remember" them, so to speak. Even if I couldn't remember the moment I entered Yukinoshita's apartment tomorrow, I'd still know the general layout of her place. This would likely become relevant since I'd be spending quite some time there, learning guitar and all.

Before we started our lessons, however, I asked Yukinoshita if she could play a song for me. I'm not very sure where that request came from, but I wanted to hear her play. I guess a part of me must have wanted to see what I was getting myself into. But another part of myself, I'm ashamed to admit, was curious about just how good Yukinoshita was. So I asked her to play something for me and she obliged me with a cover of the popular singer Aimer's recent song Ref:rain. (This is a great song, by the way. Make a note of that on the laptop under music. Maybe I'll learn how to play it someday in the future, if all goes well.)

Yukinoshita was breathtakingly brilliant.

That's really the only way to describe it. Her voice was beautiful, and it was perfectly complemented by the chords she strummed on her guitar. She sounded like one of those acoustic cover artists that you could find on Youtube or NicoNico, except better. There was real emotion behind her singing; her voice held an indescribable sadness to it as she sang. It's pretty rare for me to pick up on all the emotions that are supposed to be conveyed through music. I've listened to quite a few online artists and while they had nice voices, their singing never really made me feel anything. But with Yukinoshita, I could sense the melancholic loneliness that she was trying to convey through the music wash over me. I felt sad, without any real reason why. It reminded me of a time in middle school, after that whole incident with Orimoto. When I'd felt more alone than ever.

It brought back those memories, and all of the emotions that came with them almost overwhelmed me.

I was in awe of her, and rendered completely speechless by the time she was finished. I had never seen something so gorgeous in my life. I'm very upset at myself that I didn't record it, I won't be able to remember how she sounded ever again. Maybe sometime in the future, I could convince her to sing that song again. But Yukinoshita had told me that she wouldn't be making a habit of playing for me, so it'll probably be a while before I get another chance to hear her play.

Still, hearing that performance made me really think, ah damn, I really want to learn to play like that someday. Even if I never get better… even if I never recover from the accident… if I can play music like her, I'll be able to remind myself of everything. I'll be able to remember all the feelings I felt, on any given day.

Yukinoshita began teaching me shortly thereafter.

I wasn't particularly sure how learning an instrument worked. I'd never really taken part in a band or choir as a kid. I was particularly nervous that I might just be terrible at guitar, to the point that Yukinoshita would simply tell me to give up hope of ever learning the instrument. What if I simply had no musical talent?

But Yukinoshita was a patient teacher. She started off by teaching me the names of the strings, as well as the order that they were strung. EBGDAE, top to bottom. Once I'd gotten that memorized, she then taught me the proper positioning for my hands on the guitar. Or in other words, she moved my hands and fingers around with her own until she was satisfied, and then told me to keep that position.

I asked her to take a picture of my hands' position after she was satisfied. It would make it easier for me to replicate it in our future lessons after all. Yukinoshita obliged after giving me another strange look. Sorry Yukinoshita, it's the only way for me to remember.

And then Yukinoshita taught me how to strum. She mentioned that there were two types of strumming. Finger strumming, or essentially playing the guitar with my fingers, was the classical way of strumming. This was the method that Yukinoshita had taught herself. The alternative was to use a pick; the contemporary style of play. Yukinoshita had apparently picked up how to use a pick later on.

She left the choice up to me. Both were perfectly acceptable, and there wasn't a definitive "right" way to strum. Since I had been given the choice, I decided to take the same path that my teacher had taken. That is, I decided to try finger strumming.

As it turned out, finger strumming hurt. My hands were very unused to the guitar, and the strings were made of metal. As I tried to strum a chord for the first time, my thumb cried out in protest at the sweeping motion it performed across the metal strings.

Yukinoshita had laughed a little bit at my expression and told me that it was normal to feel some pain, at least in the initial stages of learning how to play the guitar. She then held out her hands, palms up with fingers splayed wide. Her hands looked quite delicate, with long slim fingers that made me wonder if perhaps she should have chosen to play an instrument like piano instead of guitar. She then drew my attention to her fret hand, showing me the calluses that had formed around the pads of her fingers. That was the result of years of playing, she'd said and, for perhaps the first time, there was a hint of pride to her voice as she talked about her own experiences with playing the guitar.

Still, at least she sympathized with my struggles. She mentioned that some guitarists taped their fingers in order to minimize the amount of friction between the finger and the metal strings. She said that if finger picking was too painful at the start, she could give me some tape that I could use to try to minimize the issue while practicing.

After a few tries, I finally managed to strum a couple of chords. They weren't perfect and I'm sure that the fingers of my fret hand weren't perfectly fretting the notes, but at least I was able to produce a sound that was recognizably music. It had taken us hours to reach this point, but Yukinoshita seemed satisfied with my progress and decided to call the lesson there.

It had gotten quite late, and my stomach decided to announce its protests very loudly to the world, which was quite embarrassing. Yukinoshita didn't comment on it, but she hid a smile behind her right hand, although she couldn't conceal her twinkling cerulean eyes. But she also invited me to stay for dinner with her, which I gratefully accepted. And I suddenly found that I didn't mind her teasing quite as much afterwards. I'm a healthy growing boy, so free food would always be enough to win me over!

Since Yukinoshita apparently lived alone, I offered to help her with the meal prep, and she graciously accepted and asked me to chop the ingredients for a simple curry for her. In the meantime, she breaded and then carefully fried a couple of tonkatsu cutlets while the curry was cooking, before cutting them into strips and laying them over the rice. She then poured a generous helping of curry over top and dinner was served.

It was delicious; my plate was cleaned in record time.

It seemed as though Yukinoshita was unfailingly talented at everything she set her mind to. I was honestly a little bit envious.

I offered to help clean up after the meal as well, but Yukinoshita waved me off. By this point it was getting late, and she made a good point when she mentioned that I should probably head back home before my family started to worry.

I'm really, really lucky that Yukinoshita decided to offer to teach me how to play guitar.

I think I can put that down, even though it's only been a day.

oOo

1- Aimer. Ref:rain