Chapter 11: Supply Room and Wrapped Bento

Supply Room and Wrapped Bento

When I arrived at the office in the morning, I received a message from Miyuki on my phone. She said she’d hand me my bento in the supply room.

Oh? So I’m about to meet the woman I kissed at work? And in a place that’s usually deserted, no less.

This feels like something straight out of a cheap novel or a TV drama.

What should I do? Pull her into an embrace and give her a light kiss? Or maybe… take things a step further?

But if I do that, it’ll be a straight shot to marriage.

Sooner or later, I need to decide where this is heading. And that moment is creeping up fast.

“Ah, you really came.”

Hey, now—you’re the one who told me to come here.

The bento Miyuki handed me was a rectangular aluminum lunchbox.

It was decently sized, noticeably heavy, and above all, ridiculously retro.

“Hehe, it was my dad’s. But it’s still brand new, you know?”

“Thanks. Sorry for making you go through all this trouble.”

Her father… didn’t he pass away when she was little? Just how old is this thing?

And seriously, this pink wrapping? Give me a break. It makes it painfully obvious that a girl made this for me.

Even after handing me the bento, Miyuki didn’t make a move to leave the supply room.

Then again, neither did I. I just stood there, staring at her, thinking, Her lips are red today.

The way she fidgeted, shifting her weight from foot to foot—it was obvious she was waiting for me to make the next move.

Well, guess I have no choice. I made a flimsy excuse in my head, then gently pulled Miyuki into my arms and pressed a light kiss to her lips.

“Fwah… Kissing at work… We’re such delinquents. You absolutely can’t tell anyone about this, okay? It’s our little secret. Ufufu.”

Leaving me with those words, Miyuki strutted out of the supply room, her navy-blue office uniform hugging her hips in a way that practically dared me to keep watching.

…I’ve done it now.

I’ve completely fallen for Miyuki’s seduction.

I know it’s a lie, but I still find myself believing she’s a pure-hearted girl with genuine feelings for me.

Shaking my head furiously, I heaved a sigh and dragged my heavy steps out of the supply room.

When lunchtime rolled around and I was about to open my bento, a swarm of miserable office drones gathered around my desk.

Seems they’d caught sight of the pink bento wrap amidst the dreary, soul-crushing reality of this company.

Like hyenas closing in on a lion’s kill, they were itching to steal a piece of my moment.

They weren’t here for my lunch—they were here to tease me and vent their pent-up frustrations.

Even Manager Machida, our decrepit old baboon of a department head, wandered over to see what all the fuss was about.

He was probably paranoid that we were all badmouthing him behind his back.

And he’d be absolutely right.

That’s exactly what we spent last Friday doing. Haha.

“Oh ho, so it’s not your usual cat-rejected bento today? A homemade one?”

“A pink bag? Heh, heh. Looks like someone’s got a girlfriend.”

“Whoa, I didn’t expect this from you. You’re doing better than I thought.”

“I see, I see. Win a man’s heart through his stomach first, huh?”

But the moment I lifted the lid of my bento, the sad office drones who had been lying in wait scattered all at once.

Even Manager Machida muttered, “Ugh, it’s all brown,” before spitting out another nasty remark and slinking off. A most welcome departure.

They must have assumed, judging by the overwhelmingly brown contents, that the bento wasn’t from a girlfriend but either homemade or packed by my mother.

Brown food… Thank you, Miyuki.

Now I can finally relax and enjoy my lunch in peace.

Inside the bento, there’s spicy-sweet kinpira gobo, homemade croquettes, and crispy tatsuta-age chicken. And on top of the rice, a generous sprinkling of delicious-looking okaka.

This is good. Really good. Damn, this is amazing.

After finishing my meal, I head back to the supply room to return the empty bento box.

“It was delicious. Thanks.”

“I’m so glad to hear that! But… I have a small request. No, a huge request. No matter what, I want to visit your (anata) apartment.”

Even after I praised her cooking, Miyuki barely acknowledged it. Instead, she stared at me desperately, practically pleading.

Is coming to my apartment really that big of a deal?

And what’s with her calling me ‘anata’ all of a sudden? That’s throwing me off too.

“Huh? You want to come over? Why?”

If I wasn’t suspicious, I wouldn’t even bother asking for a reason. I’d just spread my arms wide, flash a huge grin, and say, “Anytime, babe!”—because this is a golden opportunity.

But instead, I hesitate.

“Umm, well… Ah! I want to help you clean! You live alone, don’t you?”

That took way too long. She was definitely scrambling for an excuse.

Any reason that needs that much thinking is a made-up one. What’s the real reason?

…No way. Is she planning to take this whole seduction act to the final stage?

If I look at it optimistically… that means I could sleep with her, right?

I hesitate for a while before finally answering, “Sure.”

Even if we sleep together, it’s not like I’m obligated to marry her. They say, “A man’s a fool to pass up a meal that’s served to him,” right?

It’s her fault for having such a perfectly round a🬀s. I’m completely innocent here.

“Yay! Thank you! I’ll come over tonight then.”

Wait, tonight?! Work is almost over, so that means she’s coming over in about two hours? I haven’t mentally prepared for this at all.

“Wait… Tonight?”

“Oh… is that bad?”

Do I even have time to go buy c🬀🬀doms? I should be able to manage somehow.

“…It’s fine.”