Does This Love Suit Your Taste? - Volume 1 Chapter 1.3

Terrine 3

 

Time passed, and as the day turned to dusk, the floor of a bustling bistro at its peak was filled with the scent of wine grapes and alcohol so strong it could turn you into a tiger just by smelling it, and the savory aroma of meat from the main course being expertly grilled.

(TN: Idk what turn you into a tiger means.)

 

“Excuse me. Here is the appetizer, the ‘Spring Vegetable Terrine’.”

 

The cross-section of the colorful vegetables was like a rainbow after the rain.

This square-looking dish, the ‘Terrine’, made a couple look curiously surprised when brought to their table.

 

“Wow, amazing… So what’s a ‘Terrine’?”

“Ah, well, I’ve heard of it but… what is a ‘Terrine’?”

 

The man, cornered by the woman’s question, deflected the question to me.

 

“‘Terrine’ in French refers to a container. It’s commonly used in French cuisine and sweets, where the dish is made in a container or mold. Originally, it was a cooking method used in medieval Europe for making preserved food. This Terrine is made by lining a mold with vegetables and setting it with seasoned jelly to form its shape.”

“Wow… I see…”

 

The male customer uttered as he looked at the dish.

Seeing his interest in my explanation made me feel a little happy.

 

“Vegetables are usually just chopped into easy-to-eat sizes and served on the side or just thrown into a bowl, so having them well-arranged like this makes them easier to eat and preserve. It’s actually easy to make, so I recommend trying it at home.”

 

The couple’s eyes widened at my explanation.

 

“Wow, Onii-san is amazing!”

“Ah, you stole the show, Onii-san.”

 

The female customer clapped her hands lightly and playfully exaggerating her praise for me.

I didn’t forget to support her boyfriend, who smiled wryly as if he didn’t know where to put himself.

 

“No-no, not at all. It’s your boyfriend who has a great taste for finding this bistro.”

“Wow, Onii-san is so kind… well then, itadakimsu! Mmm——”

 

Moved by my encouragement, the man took a bite of the Terrine. He chews thoughtfully with his eyes closed.

I held my breath waiting for his reaction.

 

“How is it? Does it suit your taste?”

“…Delicious! It’s really good!”

 

Seeing his smile, I breathe a sigh of relief and bow deeply.

 

“I’m glad to hear that. There’s more to come in the course, so please enjoy at your leisure.”

 

Crossing the wooden interior lit by soft lighting to head to the back, a female colleague dressed the same as me then stands by my side.

 

“…The gap with school is crazy. You seem like a good young man, huh?”

“Mind your own business…”

 

Her name is Kaburagi Ichigo.

Due to certain circumstances, we work at the same place, attend the same school, and are in the same class.

Her distinctive feature is her medium-length red hair, which is now tied up high in a style suitable for work. She has big, round, adorable eyes. She’s wearing a white dress shirt with black slacks and a black salon apron.

Although she looks cool in the same garson uniform as me, as far as I know, all her friends are gyaru.

And now, the restaurant where Ichigo and I are working, the not-so-busy French bistro ‘Maison (メゾン)’, is owned by my father.

(TN: メゾン, mezon, derived from the French word maison, which means house or home.)

 

“So? Why did you mess up the class and leave early by yourself?”

“…Shut up, it’s not like I did anything wrong.”

“Geez, it was a mess, you know? All my friends were like, ‘Isn’t that guy dangerous?’ ‘Yeah, dangerous.’ ‘Super dangerous.’ So I just went along with them saying ‘dangerous’ too!”

 

As I listened to this incomprehensible gyaru language from the Kingdom of Gals, I reflected on my day, and naturally, the incident with that short-haired blonde girl came to mind.

There was no particular connection or grudge between us. It was strange that she had left such a strong impression even though we had only exchanged a few words.

 

 

“Hey… Toui, are you even listening?”

 

A face with puffed cheeks closed in on me.

Despite looking kind of silly, she’s actually been popular with the guys since way back, thanks to her well-defined features.

I feel a bit overwhelmed when her face is this close.

 

“I’m listening… You’re just saying ‘dangerous’ over and over. What’s the big deal about that?”

“What’s with that… Ah, Toui, you don’t have friends at school, so you don’t understand?”

“Yes? It’s not that I don’t have any, I just haven’t made any, that’s all.”

 

Despite my denial, Ichigo doesn’t seem to be listening and is fidgeting while looking down at the ground.

 

“Besides… pretending to be a stranger to you, Toui… I hate that.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“…don’t ask, idiot.”

 

I’m confused, but Ichigo seemed somewhat upset and abruptly ended the conversation.

 

“…Seriously, you’re so stubborn. Toui, you should just get along with everyone.”

“It’s fine… That kind of thing doesn’t suit me.”

“There it is. Toui, you always say that when you deny something. You’re claiming it doesn’t suit your taste without even trying it.”

“What are you trying to say…”

 

While we were forgetting about work and getting caught up in conversation, the main dish suddenly appeared through the small window that connects to the kitchen with the chef.

 

“Hey Toui, stop flirting and take this to table three.”

“Mabuchi-san… Okay…”

 

That was Mabuchi-san, the chef of the restaurant.

Although I can’t see him, I can hear his voice coming from beyond the small window.

 

“And you, when you’re serving customers, use ‘desu (です)’ instead of ‘ssu (~っす)’, okay? Don’t make me say it over and over again. You’re planning to take over this restaurant, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yes…” (う,うっす…)

“Hey.”

“d-desu, desu!” (で,ですです!)

 

As if running away from various things, I dash out to the floor with the dishes.

 

I’ve been asking Ichigo, who I’ve known since junior high school and who went to the same high school, to keep it a secret that we knew each other and to avoid associating with me as much as possible. The reason is simple: I want to maintain my solitude at school.

If it were known that Ichigo is associated with a delinquent like me, it would surely be annoying for Ichigo. I would also find it bothersome to act differently at school because of my association with Ichigo.

There’s no need for me to take on someone else’s risk. Nor is there a need for someone else to shoulder my risk.

I am me, others are others. That kind of distance is just right.

 

That’s what I thought.

 

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