It was a quiet, golden afternoon when Sora arrived at Daichi's apartment, holding a warm bento box neatly wrapped in a yellow cloth. The corridor outside was lined with potted plants, their leaves spilling over mismatched pots, and somewhere beyond, birds chirped softly in the weekend calm.
Daichi opened the door, dressed casually in a plain white tee and black shorts, his glasses resting low on his nose.
He blinked in mild surprise, his expression neutral but not unfriendly. "Uehara-san…?"
"Good afternoon, Morikita-san," Sora greeted with a cheerful smile, lifting the bundle slightly. "I made some karaage earlier and thought maybe you'd like to try it."
Daichi's eyes flicked to the bento, then back to her. For a moment, it looked like he was weighing how to politely decline—but instead, a faint, genuine smile touched his lips.
"Thank you." He accepted the bento carefully.
"I'm not a great cook, but… making karaage is the one thing I feel confident about," Sora added with a light, self-conscious giggle. Somehow, her laughter was infectious; Daichi gave a soft chuckle in return.
It was a few beats before he spoke again, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "I don't really have anything to offer you… but, I can brew some coffee if you'd like." He hesitated. "Though… karaage and coffee probably taste awful together."
Sora laughed, the sound light and sweet, her eyes bright. "That does sound like a weird combo, but… honestly, it sounds kind of exciting. I'd love that."
Daichi gave a small nod, his smile deepening, and stepped aside to let her in.
The apartment was tidy and softly lit by the afternoon sun filtering through sheer curtains. The air held the faint scent of old books and something quietly woody—cedar, maybe. Against the window stood a tall cat tower, where Chobichobi, his long-time feline companion, stretched lazily before hopping down with delicate steps, the tiny bell on his collar jingling faintly.
"Don't mind him," Daichi murmured, carrying the bento to the kitchen counter. "He's… a bit extroverted."
"He looks so well cared for, Morikita-san." Sora smiled, crouching slightly to greet the curious cat.
Daichi quietly busied himself in the kitchen, setting the water to boil and carefully transferring the karaage to a clean plate.
"I should apologize," he called over, his voice calm and low. "Karaage's probably better with beer, but I've been cutting back on alcohol. And… I don't keep tea here either—I've never been a fan."
When he returned with a tray, balancing two ceramic mugs and the plated karaage, he set them down gently on the dining table.
His eyes flicked up briefly. "I guess… I'm not a very good host."
Sora, already seated with her hands folded neatly in her lap, laughed softly. "Not at all. It's kind of refreshing seeing this side of you, Morikita-san. You usually don't talk much at work, so this is nice."
Daichi paused mid-pour, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly before a quiet chuckle escaped. "Maybe… I just haven't gotten used to people there yet."
Sora giggled, her laugh warming the space between them. "But you and Hasegawa-san get along pretty well. It's like you two have known each other for years."
For the faintest moment, Daichi's expression flickered—just a blink of surprise, quickly covered as he cleared his throat lightly. "Our departments are interconnected," he said simply. "Besides, Hasegawa-san… he's a bright person."
"Uh-huh, that's him. He really knows how to make people feel comfortable." Sora nodded with an easy smile, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
Once the coffee was poured, she glanced down at the golden karaage resting on its plate, the aroma softly filling the room.
"I hope you'll like it," she said, a trace of pride in her voice. "I followed my boyfriend's recipe—it only took me three tries to get it right."
"Three tries?" Daichi lifted a brow slightly, picking up his chopsticks.
"Uhm," Sora admitted with a sheepish laugh. "The first time, I didn't marinate the chicken long enough and… I accidentally used powdered sugar instead of cornstarch."
Daichi blinked, then gave a quiet laugh through his nose. "That must've been… interesting."
"My boyfriend laughed for two straight minutes," she smiled fondly, shaking her head. "But he encouraged me not to give up. The second time, I messed up the oil temperature—it came out soggy and pale."
Daichi took a thoughtful bite, chewing slowly before speaking in his usual soft tone. "This is good. Tastes like something I've had before… reminds me of my friend."
"Your friend?" Sora tilted her head curiously.
He nodded faintly. "He used to teach me how to make karaage. Said it was the easiest recipe anyone could cook." His lips curved just slightly. "I still haven't succeeded."
They both laughed—a light, genuine laugh over harmless failures shared across time.
"So we both failed the easiest recipe," Sora grinned, sipping her coffee. "But at least you had someone to teach you."
Chobichobi, who had wandered off earlier, now padded over to the table and nudged Daichi's ankle with his small paw. Daichi glanced down and wordlessly reached to stroke the cat's head, earning a quiet purr before Chobichobi hopped onto the empty chair beside him, curling into a loaf shape as if claiming his place in the conversation.
"I guess… even failed recipes can hold good memories," Sora said softly.
Daichi looked at her from behind his glasses, his eyes briefly reflecting a rare, gentle warmth.
"…Yeah," he murmured. "They do."