Black Bullet, Vol. 1: Those Who Would Be Gods by Shiden Kanzaki Page B

noticed the piece of paper that said “You can peek if you want” in Enju’s messy handwritingtaped to the bathroom door, his strength left him all at once and he sank to the floor.
    He could hear a voice from the bath. “You are late. Were you doing something naughty with Kisara?”
    Rentaro plunked down and crossed his arms. “Shut up. She beat me up and told me to get to work.”
    Enju laughed. “She would. That’s what I thought happened, as well.”
    “You’re an evil freeloader.”
    “Anyway, is dinner ready yet? My stomach feels like it’s caving in.”
    Okay, okay,
he thought as he picked up the clothes Enju had shed with abandon and put them in the laundry hamper with his own dirty clothes, then took them to the coin laundry on the first floor. There didn’t seem to be anyone else around, so he decided to use the machine that worked the best, the newest one in the back.
    Rentaro thought that Enju wouldn’t want her clothes to be washed with his, but unexpectedly she had said, “Imagining you getting excited about wearing clothes that were washed with my underwear is fun,” and said it was fine. They were being washed with detergent, so there was nothing to get excited about, but it still meant he could wash them all in one load, so he let her believe what she wanted.
    Thinking there was no way anyone would steal their clothes, he went back to the room and opened the fridge. He lined up the ingredients they had, including the bean sprouts they had bought, and thought for a moment.
    Today, he would make egg-topped rice out of the eggs, braised burdock and carrot out of the burdock root and slightly old carrot, and fry the bean sprouts with the bit of cabbage that was left over. Once he figured out what to make, he knew the rest of the work would go quickly. He put a pink apron on over his school uniform and started cooking at lightning speed. Before he knew it, he was humming merrily away as he manipulated his long cooking chopsticks.
    There was one time when Enju pestered him into letting her cook, but the result tasted so bad that he’d wanted to spit it out, so he had firmly sworn that he would never let her in the kitchen again. Sumire’s cooking not only tasted bad, but she also used unknown ingredients that gave it an unearthly feel. When Kisara cooked, the kitchen went up in flames.
    Why did all the women around him completely lack cooking abilities? Just once, he wanted to meet a woman who could make a miso soup that tasted better than his.
    With those thoughts floating around in his mind, the sauce of the last dish, the braised burdock and carrot, turned golden. He turned off the heat, removed his apron, and looked at the clock. It was eight p.m.
    As he returned from getting the clothes downstairs, Enju had just finished her long bath. When she saw the kitchen, she said, “Ooh!” and jumped, reacting like the kid she was.
    “Wait, don’t eat yet,” said Rentaro.
    Enju turned to look at him like she was about to bite. “Why can’t I? When I came home, I gargled and washed my hands!”
    “That’s not it.”
    “I took the neighborhood circular next door like I was supposed to, and I didn’t doodle on it like last time.”
    “I said, that’s not it.”
    “I didn’t watch more than three hours of TV today!”
    “That’s not it, either.”
    “I’m not on trash duty today, am I?”
    “That’s not it, Enju. Please, just notice!”
    The small head couldn’t take it any longer and began to roar. “Just give me my food! Are you trying to starve me to death?!”
    Enju seemed to notice something at that point, and her face turned bright red as she looked at him with upturned eyes. “Don’t tell me you were thinking that an empty stomach would exacerbate my lust, and that this was a roundabout way to tell me you desired to have an ultimate fight with me?”
    Rentaro put both hands on Enju’s shoulders. “Just put on your underwear. We can start from there.”
    “Thanks for the