Incidentally, in order to “destroy the evidence” she’d crammed them into Ryuuji’s mouth. It was because she had made some sort of palm-sized blunder misreading the oven scale. Of the ten she secretly baked, six of them burned black. The plan was to give them to Kitamura casually, saying, I had leftovers, so would you like some? All this was to help make a better impression on him. It was a class for both boys and girls, so it didn’t really feel too much like a present from a girl to a guy, but there definitely were boys who wanted the extras the girls made, and there were some who specifically made cookies to give to their boyfriends.Īisaka, working sneakily so no one could see (sometimes using Ryuuji’s body as a shield), had baked slightly complex cookies with a checkered pattern. In her tiny hands, she held a package of precious, handmade cookies that she’d made during the afternoon cooking class. Yes, he nodded at her, and finally, managed to slightly ease Aisaka’s tense expression. He’s not the type to turn up his nose at handmade stuff-and at the very least, he doesn’t seem to not like you.” There’s practically no guy alive that wouldn’t be happy getting homemade cookies from a girl. “What are you saying that for? Trust in yourself. “I-I’m starting to feel nervous… I wonder if this will just be a nuisance to him.” Guilt wrapped heavily around his whole body, like Shun’s nebula chain from Saint Seiya. In a corner of the tumultuous classroom, Aisaka’s face was the very definition of serious. It was homeroom, right before school let out. Even if it were only slight, they wanted to leave some sort of impression on Kitamura’s heart. PE, lunch break-they had to rise above those two bitter failures they couldn’t allow the last chance of the day to escape them. Neither Ryuuji nor Aisaka had paid any notice to the classroom’s atmosphere. A peculiar atmosphere remained in the second-year C class, but time flowed on and soon enough, the end of the day arrived.
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