2.69: Shopping and Stewing

“Do you want to come to my place tonight?” Aoi-chan asked once we’d finished training. We’d taken an extra hour so my progress wouldn’t be derailed by the rehearsals.

I was almost too tired to fully process her invitation. I’d been a step behind her today. I still hadn’t improved enough.

Then her words finally caught up with me, and heat rushed to my face.

Is she…?

“Assuming your parents are okay with it,” Aoi-chan added casually.

My body ached from training. Even though she’d been warmer with me again, she hadn’t let up at all, she was just as intense as ever, but far gentler at the same time.

I fidgeted before answering. “Y… yes.”

“Good.” She slipped an arm around my sweaty shoulders, pressing into a spot that still ached from one of her strikes. I winced, then smiled. “I think you said something about wanting to be on top, Susu.”

“Y… yes…” I answered, my ears burning. I glanced around to make sure no one was listening. Thankfully, neither Riko or Yuna were anywhere near us today.

Aoi-chan smiled, and then realized she was blushing too, which made her blush all the more.

Maybe they’re working on the play.

“I really want to go home with you,” I said quietly.

“I look forward to it, then.” Aoi-chan giggled and led the way away from our training spot behind the gym.

My heart was beating fast in anticipation of what we’d be doing.

DOKI-DOKI

We changed back into our uniforms after cleaning up in the locker room.

When we left, Aoi-chan put her hands on my bike’s handles and smiled at me.

“I’ll pedal so that you’ll have plenty of energy later,” she’d said lightly, “in case your parents agree to let you stay with me.”

I blushed, my heart racing.

Aoi-chan waited patiently as I fumbled for my keys. I’d added her spare apartment key to them. There were only two others: one for my parents’ front door, and one for the lock on my bike chain.

“If we’re going to your place—unless you want to stop at my house and eat there, we’ll need to shop for whatever we’re having for dinner. I’d honestly prefer cooking you dinner myself.” I blushed at the thought of showing her how well I could cook. I was in a hurry to get to her place.

“Sounds good to me.” Aoi grinned. “Hop on.”

I felt anxious and keyed up, almost like on our date.

We stopped at my house to grab a few things and ask permission, my mom and dad exchanging a look and hedging. They murmured back and forth for a bit before finally agreeing on one condition.

“You must go to school properly the next day any time you spend time at Kurobane-san’s apartment,” my mom said. “And let us know by text.”

They didn’t comment on all my blushing.

It was more than obvious what we intended to do. It didn’t need to be said out loud. I didn’t explain that I wanted to spend as much time with Aoi-chan as I possibly could while she was alive.

I didn’t have the courage to tell them that part directly.

They’d try to protect my heart if they knew. And if Aoi-chan was right, she would die sometime in the next month.

We didn’t know when.

All I knew was that every second with her was precious. If I hesitated, if I held back, I’d drown in regret later for not using what little time we had left the right way.

So I had to move forward.

I knew my daydreams of living together like a married couple wouldn’t come true. Aoi-chan wouldn’t last that long.

Just thinking about it made my heart nearly stop.

I didn’t want to spend what time we had crying. So I chose to be happy instead. As happy as I could be for her, for as long as possible.

When they finally waved us off from the doorway, Haru watching quietly from where he leaned against the wall outside the door, we took off on my bike with a bag of my things slung over my shoulder.

“Let’s go get our groceries,” I murmured against Aoi-chan’s back, hugging her waist as I rode the bolts behind her.

I waved to Haru, offering him a smile as Aoi pedalled us outside the gate.

“Right.” Aoi nodded.

“How much do you have for food?” I asked, my voice firm despite the flutter in my chest. “I want to make a proper meal for you first thing.”

Aoi-chan glanced back over her shoulder, looking faintly disappointed, as if she’d hoped we might skip straight to the part that occupied our minds so relentlessly.

“I have money for groceries,” she said softly, “if you really want to cook.”

“I do.” I nodded against her back. “I noticed you haven’t been taking care of yourself lately. That’s not okay. So we'll make sure you eat well…”

I hesitated, then blushed harder.

I felt like a hypocrite saying that to her. I’d skipped too many meals myself while she was pushing me away.

“But what do you want to eat?”

“Hmmm…” Aoi-chan thought it over. “Something quick to make would be fine.”

She rested a hand on mine for a moment.

My blush deepened even more.

“How about yakisoba?” Aoi-chan asked.

I thought about it, then shook my head.

“I can make it, but let’s save your craving for festival food for Saturday. And we still need to arrange for yukatas for it,” I said.

“True,” Aoi-chan nodded.

“I’ll ask my parents for help with that. Have you thought about what you’ll do?” I asked.

“I’d be fine wearing what I always do,” Aoi-chan hedged.

“…Tsch! You’d look so good in a yukata,” I complained, pressing my cheek against her shoulder.

“Is that so?” Aoi-chan laughed. “I think you’d look better in one than me.”

“Wrong,” I said firmly. “We should get you one that matches your new ribbon, and you’ll look absolutely stunning. When we watch the fireworks together, I want it to be one of those magical moments.”

“So selfish,” Aoi-chan giggled.

“We need to make every moment count,” I insisted. “So let’s do everything right from today.”

“Whatever you want, my princess.”

“Good.” I giggled, snuggling closer against her back.

“Aoi-chan… Do you like cream stew? I make it better than most anything else,” I suggested.

Aoi-chan considered it for a second, then nodded. “Sure, that sounds yummy to me.”

We stopped at a small neighborhood supermarket a few blocks from Aoi-chan’s apartment. It was also close to my home, the one that Mom liked to shop at. It had narrow aisles, handwritten sale tags, and a bell that chimed softly whenever the door opened.

When we entered, warmer air and the scent of produce and seafood washed over us.

Aoi-chan grabbed a basket automatically, then paused.

“Since you’re cooking for us… lead on. I’ll follow and carry things.”

I nodded, seriously. “I can help with that part too,” I added.

“No way. I don’t want you too tired to play later,” Aoi winked with intention.

DOKI-DOKI

“Fine.” I muttered, blushing. “Um… first, we need to think about what you already have in your kitchen,” I mumbled.

She laughed quietly. “My little housewife.”

“Fweh…” I blushed. “Th-that’s right! There’s no way I’m going to miss out on playing housewife with you,” I said, puffing my cheeks. “So you’d better love every moment of it!”

“I already am,” Aoi said seriously.

I blinked, then flushed even harder.

“...I’ve noticed you’ve been living on convenience store bentos,” I said, wagging a finger at her.

“It’s an efficient way to get by when you live alone,” she protested weakly.

“It’s lazy,” I corrected, steering us toward the produce section, “and not nourishing enough.”

“Have it your way, my wife.” Aoi smiled fondly.

DOKI-DOKI

Whenever she says that, I can’t help feeling so happy!

I ran through the ingredient list for fresh cream stew, mentally checking things off to see what we still needed to distract myself.

“What did you have in your kitchen? You didn’t answer.” I asked again.

“Sorry.” Aoi laughed. “I have cooking oil, salt, milk and miso paste,” Aoi said, her eyes lifting slightly as she searched her memory. “I sometimes make a bowl of soup with some eggs for breakfast before rushing out.” She paused, then continued more slowly. “There’s soy sauce, mirin, and vinegar in the cabinet. Instant dashi packets. A half-used bag of rice, obviously. And some yogurt that I keep forgetting about. There’s also some butter that I barely use and a few puddings. There’s several bottles of tea and I might have some wilting green onions that I use to garnish what I make… but that’s only if I still have some from my breakfast the other day.” She thought for a moment and laughed. “Oh, and there’s some frozen gyoza. I don’t remember when I bought them.”

I stared at her.

“…I’m a little horrified,” I admitted. “We’ll definitely need to check the expiration dates before we eat any of that.”

She looked faintly sheepish, rubbing the back of her neck.

Somehow, that made me feel happier. She wasn’t perfect. She was just… human. And that made me feel needed in a way I hadn’t realized I wanted to be.

“Do you know how old the milk is?” I asked, switching back into focus.

“Easy! I bought it just a few days ago,” she said. “There’s still most of a carton left.”

“Good.” I nodded. “That takes care of some of what we need.”

“And Mom bought me a starter kit for my kitchen,” Aoi-chan said. “All the basic spices I’d need… so you can cross those off the list too.”

“Okay! Which spices are in that kit?” I tapped my lips thoughtfully.

“Salt, pepper, and paprika,” she said after a moment. “Cinnamon, nutmeg, curry powder, shichimi and dried basil. Garlic powder and… chili flakes. I’ve never opened those.”

I nodded slowly, picturing it.

The starter spice set her mom had bought her felt like it had been chosen with a lot of hope and optimism, tempered by realistic expectations.

I paused, thinking a little more.

“By the sounds of things, we’ll need most of the rest of the ingredients,” I muttered.

Aoi leaned in beside me, peering into the vegetable bins with open curiosity. The way she tilted her head, scanning everything so seriously, was almost childlike, like a kid shopping with her mom and trying to look helpful.

I couldn’t help giggling. Then I looked up and spotted the bin I’d been searching for.

“Onion,” I said immediately, selecting a firm one without any mold on the stems or under the onion paper, not that that was usually an issue here, and turning it in my hands. “We’ll use half of one of these today, but we’ll use the rest later on for something else. We’ll need some potatoes too… the waxy kind if they have them.”

She watched me with quiet interest as I chose two good looking potatoes, then a few carrots. I tested their firmness without really thinking, then dropped them into the basket Aoi was holding.

“You look like you’re in your element,” she said.

I blinked, looking over my shoulder at her. “Mm?”

“It really surprises me.” Her lips curved slightly. “The old Susu would’ve looked so lost doing this.” She giggled. “I really like this part of you.” She tilted her head, studying me. “You handle it so naturally, like you were born for it. Shopping, planning and taking care of your family.”

Heat crept into my cheeks.

“Someone has to take care of you,” I said, half-mumbling, half-defiant.

She smiled then, not teasing, nor playful. It was just warm.

We added white button mushrooms next. Garlic went in after a quick sniff test. I hesitated beside the broccoli.

“This one’s actually optional,” I murmured, then added it to the basket anyway. “Since we’re doing this properly, we’ll get it.”

Aoi snorted. “Just don’t break the bank, wife.”

I giggled. “Should we put the broccoli back then?”

“No. I like broccoli.” Aoi smiled.

“Okay.” I moved on.

The meat counter came next. I asked for some deboned chicken thighs and watched as it was weighed and wrapped, my attention following every step.

“Weirdly you seem like you’ve done this before,” Aoi said.

“I have,” I replied quietly. “I help Mom with shopping and fill in when she’s tired or sick. Or when one of us caught a cold and I wanted them to feel better I’d cook rice porridge or something else nourishing.” The last time was when I was back in middle school. I remembered it vividly. Everyone had caught a bad cold and I was the least sick, so I took responsibility for cooking. Everyone was feeling better the next day.

She didn’t answer right away. Her grip on our shopping basket shifted as the weight increased bit by bit. That reminded me of how shamelessly Riko teased Haru about being a man as we loaded him up. I giggled softly.

In the wine aisle, I stopped and scanned the labels.

“We’ll need some white wine,” I said after a moment. “The kind for cooking, not drinking. I don’t think they’ll stop us from buying it, but we’ll have to hope they don’t.”

Aoi raised an eyebrow. “Does it taste as good without the cooking wine?”

I shook my head gently. “It’s flatter. You can fake it with stock and a little extra acidity from something else, but the wine gives it more depth. It cooks off in the process and the flavor stays. We won’t get drunk eating it.”

“Hm.” She nodded, thoughtful. “So it’s not optional.”

“Yeah.” I glanced back at the shelves. “Three tablespoons for the chicken,” I added, counting on my fingers. “Three more for the sauce. We’d be incredibly thrifty if we could buy only that much cooking wine.” I laughed.

She laughed with me. “Maybe I should start carrying an eyedropper for shopping for cooking wine.”

I covered my mouth. “Pft.”

We wandered a bit until Aoi reached up and took a bottle down.

“Sumire, is this it?”

I smiled and took it from her, turning it slowly in my hands as I read the label. After a moment, I nodded. “Perfect.”

From there, things moved a little faster. Bouillon powder, butter, flour, heavy cream. Cheese… Parmesan would do just fine. Pepper. We skipped the nutmeg since she already had some at home in her starter kit.

When we reached the bakery section, I slowed and hesitated again.

“…How about a baguette?” I asked.

Aoi-chan leaned in close, her voice low and amused.

“Are you trying to seduce me with carbs?”

“Yes,” I said honestly, blushing.

It went into the basket with the rest.

By the time we reached the register, the basket was full, and my heart felt strangely light. Thankfully, the cooking wine wasn’t confiscated. While we technically could drink it, they trusted that we wouldn’t.

As we stepped back outside into the cooler air, Aoi held onto every bag, leaving me to push my bike with the basket rattling softly in front with our school bags in it.

“I’ll hold onto these,” Aoi said.

“At least hang a couple off my bike’s handlebars,” I complained. “You’ll tire yourself doing that.”

“Nah.” She grinned. “Maybe I want to impress you with my strength.”

“More than crushing two smartphones in one hand and training me into a martial artist?” I pouted with a raised eyebrow. “You’re plenty strong enough, Aoi-chan.”

Aoi giggled. “I’ll let you cook for us, wife. Just let me play at being the strong one tonight.”

I watched her as we walked. Her posture was relaxed, her steps unhurried, the steel-blue ribbon in her hair swaying gently with each stride.

She just wants to be part of everything in ways she can. I should be more considerate.

I smiled warmly and my stomach growled and Aoi noticed.

“…I admit that I’m really hungry,” I mumbled.

“Like in the ramen shop?” Aoi teased.

“Y-yeah…” Heat crept into my cheeks. “I meant more that I skipped meals too…” I added quietly as we kept walking.

She slowed just a little.

“…I know,” she said. “I’m sorry that I hurt you so much.”

I gasped realizing that I’d unintentionally said something that made her feel guilty.

I bumped my hip lightly against hers. “It doesn’t matter. I’m just happy that we’re together now. Tonight we eat properly! We celebrate!” I declared.

She giggled and glanced down at me, her eyes soft.

“Yeah,” she said. “Here’s to life together.”

The bags rustled as we walked home, heavy with ingredients, ready to be turned into a delicious pot of cream stew.

Dinner wasn’t just about food tonight.

It was about love and care.

Aoi-chan’s kitchen felt small with both of us in it.

We took off our seifuku before cooking and Aoi loaned me one of her shirts and a pair of shorts.

It wasn’t really that cramped… it just felt intimate. The counter barely fit the cutting board she had and the bowls I’d laid out, and every time I shifted my weight, I was very much aware of where she was behind me. She stood too close… definitely on purpose.

I tied my hair back first, copying the way I’d seen my mom do it a hundred times. I washed my hands, dried them carefully, and took a calming breath.

I tied an apron over the teeshirt that I’d borrowed from Aoi like it was battle armor.

Okay. Focus!

I set a nonstick pan on the stove and turned the flame down low, letting it warm gently before adding a small swirl of oil to it. When it shimmered, I placed the chicken thighs skin-side down, sprinkling salt over the top using my fingertips.

A soft sizzling noise filled the room, the aroma of pan-roasted chicken skin rising.

“…You look so adorably serious,” Aoi-chan said from behind me.

“I am,” I replied, watching the color of the meat. “This part matters a lot when it comes to the flavor of our stew.”

“Wow.” Aoi’s eyes widened.

She leaned her elbows on the counter beside me, where there was barely enough space, close enough that I could feel her presence. Even though I was cooking, the heat radiating from her affected me far more.

“It’s kind of like going into battle,” Aoi-chan giggled. Then her expression darkened just a little. “Well… not like we do more than sparring, except for kicking those jerk senpai’s asses who tried to blackmail you.”

She glowered for a moment, clearly replaying their stunt in her head.

“I think we scared them enough that they won’t try anything like that again,” I said, smiling faintly.

“Yeah… They know you aren’t as vulnerable as they thought.” Aoi’s voice turned thoughtful. “But be careful. People like that don’t always stop. Sometimes they look for revenge or see you as a challenge.”

“I don’t care whatever they do,” I said, keeping my eyes on the pan and my hands steady. “I want everyone to know about us. If it’s public, they don’t have anything to use against us anymore, except for fake pictures.”

Aoi-chan was quiet for a moment.

“…Between the beating you gave them,” she said slowly, “and the one I gave them, I doubt that’ll be a problem.”

There was no humor in her voice this time. Just grim certainty.

I flipped the chicken once I judged enough time had passed. It had turned a pale beige, exactly how I wanted it, no browning, no rushing. I cooked the other side the same way, then nudged the pieces aside to clear space in the pan.

I peeled the onion quickly and sliced it, then did the same with the mushrooms. I broke apart the garlic bulb, crushed a clove under the flat of the knife, leaned my weight into it, and rocked the blade back and forth until it was finely minced.

As I worked through the vegetables, Aoi drifted closer, her chin coming to rest on my shoulder.

“Careful,” she murmured. “If you slice that quickly, you’ll cut yourself.”

“I won’t,” I said, even as my heart skipped a beat over her worry for me. “I’ve been doing this since I was little.”

“Mm. So cute and wifely,” she said, clearly pleased.

Heat rushed to my face, but I kept stirring, pretending very hard that I wasn’t being praised into helplessness.

The onions softened slowly, turning translucent as I stirred.

Mmm… Very fragrant!

When they were ready, I poured in some white wine. The sharp scent bloomed, then mellowed as it reduced.

Then I turned off the heat.

That was when Aoi-chan chose to strike as though it was by instinct.

She slid her arms around my waist from behind, nuzzling at my neck and nipping at it. I froze, the spoon I held dangling mid-air.

“Aoi-chan,” I warned weakly.

“You looked like you were done for now,” she said softly.

I blushed. “T… True… it does have to reduce some now but…”

Her tongue caressed from my neck up to my cheek where she kissed, making tingles shoot up and down my arms and my spine. Once. Twice.

My vision went fuzzy and spots below my stomach started aching.

“…I’m trying to be a good housewife here,” I complained.

She laughed against my sensitive neck. “You already are.”

She kissed me then, slow and lingering, giving me just enough time to melt before pulling back. My knees went weak.

I barely managed to turn off the burner so that nothing would burn.

After a bit, Aoi-chan stopped kissing me. I was getting really steamed now. My panties were damp just from that much kissing and rubbing against her.

DOKI-DOKI

“Baka… let me finish,” I protested, wriggling out of her reach, laughter spilling out before I was fully clear of her arms.

“Okay,” she said, pouting exaggeratedly as she clasped her hands behind her back, a satisfied smirk tugging at her lips.

She looked perfectly composed, but her breathing was just a little too heavy.

So was mine.

In the other pot, I added water, wine, bouillon, salt, and the bay leaf.

I quickly peeled the potatoes and carrots and cut them, wiping away the smear of starch off the knife and then carefully dropped the potatoes and carrots into the pot. When it reached a boil, I lowered the heat and let it simmer.

I poured the contents of the pan into the pot, stirring it gently and covered it.

“Just five minutes for this part… and then,” I muttered.

So that Aoi wouldn’t think I was free to mess around more, I immediately started mixing the butter, flour, and miso into a smooth paste, working the spoon in steady circles. My hands shook just a little, my ears burning.

“Impressive,” Aoi-chan teased. “You can still focus after all that?”

I huffed softly. “You make that very difficult.” There was a soft ache low in my stomach, a pull that wanted me to stop and turn around, to steal yet another kiss. I resisted the urge, just kept stirring.

I will feed her better than she has been eating in a long time.

After that, we can…

When the vegetables were tender, I turned off the heat and whisked in the paste, half of it at first, then the rest—bringing it back to a low flame until the sauce thickened properly. I added the cream and milk slowly, stirring until everything came together smooth and warm, then fished out the bay leaves one by one. I added a few careful dashes of nutmeg, then the cheese.

“Perfect,” I grinned. “We’re almost there.”

“Great,” Aoi said, her hands brushing against my bottom teasingly as I finished, just enough to make my grip on the spoon tighten and shivers went up my lower back. I really wanted more of that, but I didn’t say anything.

While the stew rested, I microwaved the broccoli and toasted slices of baguette in her toaster oven. By the time I ladled our stew into bowls, my chest felt warm and my skin was still tingling from Aoi’s implacable quiet teasing.

We carried the food out to the living area and set it on her low table. We sat close as we ate, our knees resting against each other, steam curling up between us, carrying warmth that had nothing to do with the cream stew.

“…Thank you… It looks delicious and smells even better,” Aoi-chan said quietly, shaking her head.

“I never would have thought you would be such a good wife.”

I blushed, but smiled. “Thanks.”

She leaned in and kissed me again, softer this time. We kissed for a long period, letting the stew cool a little. I ended up in her lap, breathing hard when the kiss broke.

She’d made it hard to even focus on eating, but the stew was every bit rich as I worked to make it. A comforting flavor.

And for the first time in a long while, it felt like we were exactly where we were meant to be.

I managed to generate this picture after finishing editing this morning.

<3 I was surprised at how competent it is today. <3