When I peeked into the living room, Yume was trying to bring something up to Komugi's mouth from behind the sofa. Her eyes met mine.
"...! I-it's nothing!"
She snatched her hand back and pretended to whistle. She was terrible at it.
The next night, it was Mahiru. Halfway up the stairs, she quietly called Komugi over and was about to take something out of her pocket. When I poked my head out of the kitchen:
"Th-that's not it! This is just, it's for dogs... oh, no, it's nothing..."
She fumbled her words and fled.
Rui was even bolder. Late at night, stuck on her manuscript, Rui showed up in the kitchen claiming she needed "a change of pace," slipped past me while I wasn't looking, and crept up to Komugi's bed. There, she stopped dead. She had noticed the sign I'd left beside the bed.
Treats are banned for now. It's a promise I made to the vet. —Komugi
Next to it was stamped a print of Komugi's front paw, made by inking his paw pad and pressing it down.
"...Not fair. That move is not fair," Rui groaned, staring at the sign.
"How am I supposed to give him anything after seeing this..."
I listened from the back of the kitchen, trying not to laugh.
The crowning moment was the night all four of them ended up together. When I came back from shopping, the four of them were huddled in front of the living room door. Mahiru was on lookout, peering down the hall; Yume had a scrap of cheese in her hand; Ms. Tono had stepped forward saying "Leave this to me"; and Rui was saying something like "Codename: Operation Rescue Komugi."
"...What are you doing?"
When I spoke, all four of them jumped.
"M-Mr. Manager! You're back early!"
"No, this is, um, Komugi looked lonely, so..."
"W-we just happened to all be here..."
They all made excuses at once. But the cheese in Yume's hand wasn't quite hidden.
The spy-movie standoff went on for three whole days. Around then, I realized something.
The one who went softest on Komugi late at night was me.
After cleaning up, Komugi would come to my feet and look up at me with those eyes. He'd let out a soft whine. My hand would start reaching for the cupboard, all on its own, and then, no.
I stopped my own hand.
That's right. That day the vet pointed out his weight, the vet had added: "It's especially the person who spends the most time with them who tends to give them food without realizing it."
For a while, I stared at the palm of my hand.
...The one who'd been giving him the most was probably me.
"...Sorry, Komugi," I apologized quietly.
Komugi didn't seem to mind at all, and flopped over belly-up.
The next day, I stood in the kitchen.
I'd decided to make safe treats for dogs. Steam sweet potatoes, slice them thin, and dry them slowly in a low oven. No sugar, no salt, nothing. When you cook sweet potato slowly at a low temperature, the starch turns into maltose. So even without adding anything, it gets faintly sweeter the more you chew. A sweetness that's gentle on dogs and people alike.
Behind the oven door, the sweet potatoes shrank little by little and turned the color of amber. Drawn by the warm, sweet, mellow smell leaking out, Komugi had planted himself in front of the oven and was waiting patiently. His tail was wagging with anticipation.
"Almost there, Komugi."
When I said that, Komugi answered with a soft whine and went back to staring at the door.
While I was at it, I made pork miso soup for the residents. It was a chilly night in the rainy season, a little cold. The vitamin B1 in pork is good for a tired body. Daikon, carrot, burdock, konnyaku. I stir-fried the root vegetables one after another, poured in dashi, and let it simmer. I dissolved the miso just before turning off the heat. So the fragrance wouldn't cook off.
Steam spread through the whole kitchen.
Lured by the smell, the residents gathered in the living room, one, then another.
"Smells so good..."
Mahiru narrowed her eyes.
"Pork miso soup? Yes."
Yume eagerly took her seat. Rui came out too, dragging her blanket.
I ladled out pork miso soup for everyone. Then I put some of the finished sweet potato chips for dogs on a small plate and set it in front of Komugi.
"Komugi. From today on, this is yours. No sugar, no salt. You can eat as much of this as you want."
Komugi sniffed it and gobbled it up.
His tail wagged furiously.
"...He's happy," Ms. Tono said, laughing.
"Good for you, Komugi."
Then, sipping pork miso soup, the residents confessed one after another.
"I was trying to sneak him something yesterday, too," said Mahiru.
"Me, three times," said Yume.
"I got stopped by the sign," said Rui.
"..."
Everyone's eyes turned to me.
"What about you, Mr. Manager?"
Still holding my bowl of pork miso soup, I looked away.
"...I'm sorry. After I went and banned treats like I was so high and mighty... when I really think about it, the one who was giving him the most was probably me."
The living room burst into laughter.
In the middle of that circle, Ms. Tono had a much softer look on her face than usual. Someone without a single chink in her armor at work. Someone who, even at home, had seemed somehow strained when I first came. That same person picked up one of Komugi's sweet potato chips (people can eat them too) and said, with feeling:
"...This house, kind of..."
Behind the steam from her bowl, Ms. Tono smiled faintly.
"It makes you want to come home."
Without a word, I ladled another helping of pork miso soup into her bowl.
Komugi was asleep belly-up, looking satisfied.