Chapter 12: Snow White’s Nursing

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Translated and Edited by: ynlucca.

“Shira… Yuki? Why’re you here?”

“Got a call from Yui and came to visit you. Was I bothersome?”

“No, no. I’m just a bit surprised,” Yup, haven’t expected this situation at all. “Guh… I’ll be fine, Shirayuki. Go home before you catch my cold.”

“It’ll be fine, I’m a very sturdy person. Also, I made you dinner, are you hungry?”

“Oh well… A bit.”

“I’ll bring it now then,” She said and walked to the kitchen.

That apron looks… Amazing on her.

As my absent mind thought these things, Shirayuki nimbly prepared dinner.

“Looks great…” The boiling pot in front of me encased a scrumptious egg porridge. She served it on a small plate and gave me a spoon.

“Here you go, watch the heat… If your tongue is sensitive, I can blow on the food for you.”

“Yes please.”

“Of course, I was just jok—Eh?”

“It was a joke.”

“P-Please don’t startle me like that.”

“Sorry. Oh well, itadakimasu,” I took a mouthful of warm porridge and the rice gruel before it got cold.

“How is it? I hope it’s to your tastes.”

“Mhm, it’s delicious. It’s Shirayuki’s signature taste,“ It has the same signature feel like the food I eat every day at lunch. It’s comforting.

Wait a second… Is my stomach being seduced? …Nah, I’m just overthinking this. Overly doubting people is not a healthy thing — Really though, it’s delicious.

Fluffy, supple eggs; the flavor of that ivory soup stock with its slight scent; and above all, the pulp of dried plums, cut into small pieces, gave the whole dish consistency. It refreshed me and stimulated my previously barren appetite in a great way.

“Fuh… Thanks for the food.”

“Don’t mention it,” Shirayuki stood up and put away the dirty dishes.

“Let me clean up the mess, at least.”

“You’re sick, so you need to rest.”

“… Sorry for your inconvenience, thank you,” I thanked her.

She rolled her eyes and smiled with a giggle.

“Something on your mind?”

“Nope. I thought it was just like Yui said.”

“And what’d she say?”

“Hmm, let’s see…” She coughed, clearing her throat. “‘When my big bro catches a cold, he turns unusually honest. None of that cynical nonsense! Furthermore, according to my research, it’s the only time his photographic memory doesn’t work properly,’ — That’s what she told me.”

“Goddamn it, she’s talking nonsense again…”

Oh well, she’s really good at imitating Yui’s voice, isn’t she?

After that, I tucked myself into my futon again to try and recover my strength. Shirayuki, however, sat at the foot of the bed, knitting something I couldn’t properly see. In any case, it seemed like she’d stay here until Yui came back home.

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“… Do you like knitting?”

“Yeah, well, it’s just a little hobby.”

“Hmm~, what are you knitting?”

“… It’s a secret.”

“Oh well.”

We chit-chatted. I also wasn’t going to pry that much into it.

“Your photographic memory doesn’t work when you have a fever?”

“Ah, it’s the only time I can forget anything at all.

“I see… If it’s against the current you, I might just be able to win.”

“Don’t beat a sick ol’ dude.”

“Fufu, just kidding.”

She’s been laughing a lot lately.

“Does Sakura know you’re visiting me?”

“No… Just between you and me, that girl is a love-brained idiot, so I’d appreciate it if you could keep quiet about this visit.”

“Mhm, okay.”

We kept repeating these one-shot conversations. It was a good way to pass time, a good distraction, and frankly very helpful.

However… I could barely keep my eyes open.

“… Hey, Shirayuki.”

“Yes?”

“Sorry, I need to hit the sack…”

“Well then, good night Kuzuhara-kun.”

“… Aah, good… night.”

My heavy eyes shut close as I entered into a deep slumber.

“—Thank you for helping me yesterday, I hope you feel better soon.”

When I woke up the next morning, Shirayuki wasn’t there. The room felt… a bit too big.

I didn’t feel as bad as yesterday. My fever decreased to 35.6ºC (TL: Approx. 96ºF)

“Well then… Let’s take a bath.”

I got out of bed and stretched my body, and I caught a glimpse of something unfamiliar sitting on my desk.

“… A glove?”

It was beige, and strangely enough, it was missing its pair. I picked it up — it was neatly woven — and found a small note underneath.

The rest will be done someday.

“… That reminds me, she was knitting something yesterday.”

I’m not sure if that ‘someday’ will arrive, but it’s free, so I’ll gladly accept it.

I’m a poor man to the core, huh…

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