Four faces were lined up in the kitchen in the middle of the night.
The residents of the women-only share house Nightlight—Rei, Mahiru, Yume, and Rui. This is the story of one a.m., when those four came downstairs to me, the live-in house manager, each carrying her own "secret."
Let me back up a little.
That night, the first to knock on the door of the manager's room was Rei.
"Mr. Manager. Are you awake...?"
"Yes. What's the matter?"
"Um. Is there... any oden left?"
I laughed and warmed the clay pot back up.
On nights when work kept her late, she always came down like this. Daikon soaked through with broth, an egg, and chikuwa. And with them, just one sake cup of well-chilled sake.
"...I'm alive again."
Elbows on the counter, Rei narrowed her eyes.
"I think of this as my own special privilege."
"A privilege?"
"Right. Oden in the middle of the night. I don't want to tell anyone at the office. My own secret nighttime reward."
I gave a vague nod. She looked satisfied, splitting her daikon with her chopsticks. Amber broth seeped out of it.
A secret, huh.
At the time, I hadn't noticed a thing.
A while after Rei went back upstairs, it was Mahiru who timidly peeked in.
"Um, Mr. Manager... I got hungry."
"Shall we go with omurice?"
"...Is that okay?"
Her eyes lit up.
I laid a fluffy, soft egg over thinly fried chicken rice and split it open with the back of a spoon. The runny egg flowed down in a silky stream. The smell of butter rose with a sizzle.
"...This is like a dream."
Holding her spoon, Mahiru said it with feeling.
"Even on days when I get yelled at a lot at work, eating this brings me back to life. I think this is what gets me to work tomorrow."
Her cheeks were puffed out as she chewed.
"This is my own... special late-night meal, isn't it?"
"Special?"
"Because I'm the only one you're this kind to."
With that, Mahiru gave a soft, melting smile. Once again, I just nodded vaguely.
Thirty minutes after that, Yume came down on quiet feet.
"...Mister, you awake?"
"I'm awake. Want me to make toast?"
"...Yeah."
In sweats and glasses, Yume still wore a somewhat grumpy face. But her fingertips were already reaching for the honey jar.
A thick slice of bread, topped with melting cheese and toasted to a golden brown. To finish, a thin stream of honey drizzled over it. The aroma of bread toasted to a golden brown by the Maillard reaction mingled softly with the sweet smell of warm honey.
"...Haah. This is the stuff."
Holding the toast in both hands, Yume bit into it.
"When I'm doing assignments, I crave this in the middle of the night. Your toast, Mister. This is the one thing I haven't told anybody about."
"It's a secret?"
"Obviously. I mean, it's mine."
Yume gave a little huff. Her cheeks had relaxed, just slightly.
And then, one a.m.
"...Hungry."
Rui came down with the gait of a ghost. Deadline time, it seemed. Her hair was a mess, a pen still tucked behind her ear, her eyes unfocused.
"Can you handle a minced-meat cutlet sandwich?"
"A god..."
Rui put her hands together and bowed in worship.
When you knead ground meat well, the fat and meat emulsify and hold in the juices. I fried it crisp in two stages. Once, then let it rest so the residual heat could work its way in, then again. The batter danced and fizzed in the oil.
I sandwiched it between slices of bread toasted golden. One bite, and hot juices came gushing out. Since it could be eaten one-handed, she could bite into it with her pen still in the other hand.
"...Without this, I'd die."
Rui murmured it as she bit into her minced-meat cutlet sandwich.
"I think of being able to eat this in the middle of the night as my privilege. My comrade-in-arms on deadline. I'm not giving it up to anybody. Mine and only mine—"
She got that far. Then Rui stopped dead.
Three figures were standing at the kitchen entrance.
Rei. Mahiru. Yume.
All three had sneaked back down to ask for another round of their own late-night meals. And they'd run straight into one another.
The kitchen went dead silent. Four pairs of eyes slowly looked one another over. And finally, everyone's gaze settled on me, in my apron.
"...Mr. Manager."
It was Rei who broke the silence.
"You were just making that girl a minced-meat cutlet sandwich, weren't you?"
"Y-yes."
"For me, oden."
"...Yes."
"For me, omurice," said Mahiru.
"For me, toast," said Yume.
All four of them slowly narrowed their eyes.
"...In other words," Rei said in a low voice.
"It wasn't just me."
This is bad, I thought.
To be honest, I didn't really understand what was bad about it. Everyone was hungry, and I'd served everyone food. That was all. And yet all four of these women had gone strangely quiet.
"I just assumed," Mahiru said softly.
"That it was my own special late-night meal."
"Me too," said Yume.
"Me too," said Rei.
"...Me too," said Rui.
The four of them looked at one another. And then, for some reason, they gave me a long, reproachful stare.
"With girls other than me, too," Rei said with a sigh.
"You make that kind face."
"...Huh?"
I blinked. Kind face or not, if someone was hungry in the middle of the night, you made them food. Wasn't that only natural?
"Are you feeling unwell? You all look a bit—"
"We're fine!"
The four voices came out in perfect unison. At my feet, Komugi gave a soft whine and tilted his head.
The oden pot, back on the flame, began to simmer softly again. The smell of the broth quietly threaded its way between the four of them.
On the far side of that steam, the four of them exchanged a quick glance—and at the time, I still didn't notice.