After showering and changing into my pajamas, I saw Otoha rummaging through boxes, looking for her sleepwear and towels.
The sound of her pat-pat footsteps filled the room.
At some point, I must have dozed off.
I had no idea how long she spent in the shower or getting ready at her infuriatingly slow pace.
But when I woke up, the morning sun was streaming through a gap in the curtains.
“…Morning already?”
The other side of the bed was perfectly made.
I couldn’t even tell if she had slept there.
And from the kitchen, I heard another one of her mysterious noises.
Clatter… clatter…
Like a man peeking at the crane’s loom, I peered into the kitchen.
Clatter… clatter…
From the sound of it, she was chopping daikon radish.
In a normal household, you’d hear a crisp ton-ton-ton-ton from the knife striking the cutting board.
But with Otoha, it was clatter.
And there was an agonizingly long pause between each chop.
Curious, I watched her carefully.
She was checking the shape of the daikon after every single cut—
Meticulously, cautiously, with unwavering focus.
(Too slow!)
I wanted to shout, but her intense concentration made me hold back.
“Good morning, Otoha.”
I felt awkward standing there spying on her, so I finally spoke up.
I wondered if she’d be upset that I had gone to bed first last night.
“Good morning, Rentarō-san!”
Her face lit up with a bright crescent-moon smile.
Well… I don’t hate her smile.
It’s kind of… soothing. Cute, even.
“Sorry for falling asleep first last night. Did you sleep okay?”
“Yes, a little bit. But don’t worry about me! You have work today, after all. I spent a long time looking for my favorite face wash and lotion, so I didn’t get to bed until three in the morning.”
Good thing I had gone to bed first.
If I had waited for her, I probably would have lost my temper.
“You went to bed at three? And you’re up this early making breakfast? What time did you wake up?”
“I woke up at five. I take longer than most people to cook, so I needed extra time.”
…So she knows she’s slow.
“Five? That’s only two hours of sleep.”
“I’ll take a nap after I see you off, so I’ll be fine.”
Otoha worked as a freelance illustrator.
Because of that, moving hadn’t impacted her job much.
Not that it mattered—she didn’t seem to have enough work to be financially independent anyway.
Even at twenty-eight, she still lived with her parents.
She was basically a step above a shut-in.
That’s why she had been able to follow me so easily into this sudden marriage.
When I met her parents, they had simply smiled with the same crescent-moon eyes and sent her off with a cheerful “How wonderful, how wonderful.”
Thinking back, I should have realized it then.
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