Himegi-san a Bride from the Future Begs Me to Confess My Love to Her Again - Volume 2 Chapter 1.2

Me, Princess’s Sister, and a Bunny Suit 2

“Are we done with this stupid conversation? I want to eat my lunch now.”

“Kanako, I never told you, but now I can say it sincerely… congratulations on becoming Takakyun’s girlfriend.”

“Ah, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Then, I’m going.”

As she said that and was about to head towards Takakyun, I grabbed Kanako’s wrist tightly.

“——Ow, ow, ow! Hey, what are you doing?”

“Kanako, congratulations.”

“Thank~you! Now, can you let go of my hand?”

“Kanako, congratulations. I think you and Takakyun are the second most compatible couple in the world.”

“…Ah, congratulations to you too. Aren’t you and Himegi-san a perfect match?”

“Thank you. Hearing words of blessing from a childhood friend makes me happy.”

Having received words of blessing from Kanako, I decided to release my childhood friend with a warm smile.

Grumbling a bit, Kanako headed towards her boyfriend, Takashi Harukawa.

For the record, I force those two to say words of blessing to us every day.

After all, they are the only ones who recognize us in this school.

Himegi-san and I have become a couple. There couldn’t be anything more wonderful.

If possible, I’d like not just my childhood friend but everyone to celebrate this with us.

With that thought, I spoke to the bespectacled male student eating his lunch next to me.

“Hey, Nakajima-kun. How are you doing today?”

His name is Nakajima-kun, a high school baseball player affiliated with this school’s baseball club. He clearly looked displeased.

It seems he doesn’t like me very much.

“…What do you want?”

“Is baseball fun?”

“…Well, practice is hard, but… it’s fun.”

“That’s great to hear… I’m praying you get to compete against Isono in Koshien.”

“Hey, stop making that joke just because my name is Nakajima.”

“What?! You’re going to win against Isono and propose to his sister Wakame, right?”

“——As if!”

(TN: I don’t get this reference.)

That’s what he said. It seems this Nakajima is not the Nakajima I know very well.

“By the way, you don’t look so good. Are you sick? You’ve hardly touched your lunch…”

“I had to listen to you talk about poop next to me.”

“…I’m sorry.”

“I’m kidding. I just don’t have an appetite because I didn’t get enough sleep.”

“Lack of sleep?”

“Yeah, we’re supposed to have a practice match at this school today, and the opponents are regulars at Koshien. It’s embarrassing, but I’m feeling a bit intimidated.”

“I see. You couldn’t sleep because you were thinking about the game…”

“Yeah, something like that. To think I’ll have to stand on the mound in this condition——”

“—Ah! it’s Himegi-san!”

“—Hey, listen to me!”

Ignoring the infuriated Nakajima-kun, I returned to the classroom and waved at my beloved honey.

Our eyes met and she rushed over to me.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

This sparkling beauty with black hair—Touka Himegi.

She’s one of the most stylish people in the school, and amazingly, she’s my girlfriend.

In Himegi-san’s hands are two lunch boxes. One of them is mine.

Actually, After school yesterday, she made me an offer that I couldn’t believe my ears: ‘Tomorrow, I’ll make a lunch for you, Ouji-kun.’

Naturally, I accepted the proposal with great enthusiasm.

I couldn’t help but drown in happiness just imagining that I’m eating a homemade lunch filled with love from her.

This is precisely the couple-like event I had been looking forward to.

Perhaps she might even feed me a bite saying, “Aaah.”

“So, where shall we eat this?”

“Why not here?”

I move Kanako’s desk and chair closer to mine.

“Please, go ahead.”

“Well then.”

Saying that, Himegi-san takes a seat on Kanako’s chair.

I also sit down in my chair, eagerly awaiting Himegi-san’s homemade lunch.

By the way, the students in the classroom are all staring at us.

Apparently, we’re the center of attention.

“Don’t be in such a hurry; the bento isn’t going anywhere.”

“Hehehe… I was so excited; I only got seven hours of sleep last night.”

For context, I usually only sleep eight hours.

“…I see. I hope it suits your taste.”

Huh? Was there a pause just now?

Oh well, it doesn’t matter. Then I received a black bento from Himegi-san.

“Can I open it?”

“Go ahead.”

Having received Himegi-san’s permission, I opened the bento lid.

“Wow—! This looks incredibly delicious!”

The contents of the bento were… apart from one particular item, all very appetizing.

Two rice balls wrapped in seaweed, bright red sausages, fried chicken, mini tomatoes, and broccoli.

Up to this point, everything seemed perfectly normal and very delicious.

The problem was this turquoise-colored food. …Wait, is this even a food???

“Um, what is this Hatsune Miku-hair-colored food, Himegi-san?”

Nervously, I pointed to the oddly vibrant object in the bento and asked its creator what it was.

“Ah? Oh, that’s tamagoyaki.”

“…Tamagoyaki…you say…”

Apparently, this ominous object is called tamagoyaki.

If this is tamagoyaki, then what was that delicious yellow thing I ate this morning?

“…it’s not a macaron?”

“You think this looks like a macaron? You say some funny things sometimes, Ouji-kun.”

Well, what the heck… it must contain matcha or perhaps some green to light blue food coloring.

Yeah, let’s go with that explanation.

“…Himegi-san, may I?”

“Go ahead.”

With permission granted, I put my hands together and said, ‘itadakimasu,’ then picked up my chopsticks.

To be honest, I’m starting to doubt Himegi-san’s cooking skills.

I mean, turquoise tamagoyaki? How do you even make an egg roll that color?

However, I’ve been eating the cooking of Touka Himegi, who is sitting right in front of me but six years into the future every day.

Yes, every dish Touka-san makes is of a high level, always impressing the palate of the Ouji family.

The girl in front of me is the same person as that Touka-san.

Six years may have passed, but it’s hard to believe her skill would change that much.

——Therefore, this bento has to be delicious.

Convincing myself of this, I picked up the relatively normal-looking red sausage with my chopsticks.

With resolve, I popped it into my mouth.

——Crunch, crunch, crunch… gulp.

“Well, is it good?”

“…Y-yeah. It’s really… delicious… incredibly delicious.”

I lied. My parents always told me never to become a liar, but this time I blatantly went against their advice.

I concluded that lying was the best way to make everyone else happy.

Let me be honest. This bento is beyond the level of ‘bad taste.’

If I had to explain how dangerous this lunch is, even eating surströmming—the world’s smelliest fish, which Kanako once bought on a whim in middle school—wasn’t as bad as this.

That’s how bad the food in this bento is.

No, can we even classify this red devil as food?

What world produces a wiener with such a crunchy texture?

This is my first time encountering such a badly textured object. And to make matters worse, the taste was neither good nor bad; it tasted like banana for some reason…