Translator: Cryus
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Mizuhara signals with his fingers for me to follow him where we could talk in privacy.
I hesitate a little, but go after him without a word.
I have absolutely no clue how he found out, but things would be bad if I refused and word got out.
Mizuhara is leaving the school building and entering the library. Iâm not interested in reading text, so I havenât been here since orientation.
Mizuhara is going to the third floor, skipping past the second floor which was saturated with bookshelves and serious students.
ãThere are research labs on the third floor of the library. This is my lab.ã
Mizuhara unlocks the door and welcomes me inside.
Only a handful of outstanding students are allowed access to the research labs in the university. I enter nervously, thinking that his smart appearance isnât just for show.
Mizuhara turns on the lights.
The lab is about six j? in size and is overflowing with objects, making me feel claustrophobic.
1
At the end of a room is a desk with a computer on it. There are racks stuffed with books on both sides of the desk. Thereâs also a large trash can as well as three cardboard boxes.
On close inspection⦠I became speechless.
Itâs the first time I went into a studentâs lab.
From what I imagined, report papers with complicated phrases and math equations written on them wouldâve been scattered around the room, and the bookshelves wouldâve been lined with technical books.
There wouldâve been a foreign thesis paper on the computer screen. On the desk wouldâve been be a cold can of coffee and a bento box.
Compared to the shabby image I had, Mizuharaâs lab is a little too personalized.
On the desk is a cake box, cookie crumbs, and chocolate stains.
The racks are stuffed with books about snacks, guide books on delicacy stores, and national confectionery magazines.
Looking at the trash can, there are tall bags for tasty looking snacks.
As for the cardboard boxes piled up in the corner, they look like packages for snacks from overseas.
ãâ¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦ã
ãYou could probably tell from one look. Iâm a Sweets Detective.ã
ãâ¦Thatâs a genre Iâve never heard ofâ¦ã
Mizuhara is pouring some black tea from a relatively small teapot into a mug.
It looks like he had prepared the teapot beforehand. Mizuhara rummages the drawer and pulls out a paper cup, which he fills with some more tea.
ãIâll formally introduce myself. Iâm Mizuhara Eiichi. Weâre in the same department, and on Monday mornings I sit behind you in General Economics class. It looks like youâve never noticed though.ã
ãâ¦â¦â¦â¦Even if you say thatâ¦ã
General Economics is a mandatory class, so there are over 100 students during lecture. There are no seating arrangements, so students have to secure the front seats if they are serious about the class.
Credit is given as long as students attend lectures, so I always sit at the back even if I get here early.
My seat is different every day, so Iâm tempted to ask, when exactly did you sit behind me?
ãFor over a year, I have been waiting for you to show up in class so I could sit behind you.ã
ãâ¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦ã
He passes the cup of tea to me.
I know the cup is hot, so I use the sleeve of my shirt to hold it.
ãOh, donât take it the wrong way. I havenât stooped so low as to have fallen in love with you or anything. Iâm more interested in the tasty looking snacks in that bag of yours.ã
ãâ¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦ã
Heâs putting marshmallows, chocolate, and macarons onto a paper plate and eating them.
Normally, wouldnât you ask me if I wanted some too?
The plate is out of my reach, so it looks like Mizuhara isnât planning on sharing the snacks.
ãThereâs always that captivating smell from your bag. Maybe I should try asking, gimme one~. No, I canât possibly do something as shallow as coaxing her. Or maybe I should try stealing one⦠no, thatâs indecent. God knows how much Iâve been distressing like this.ã
Stealing is indecentâ¦
Forget about decency, itâs actually a crime.
ãThe Sweets Princeâs Search for Miss Chocolat became news. I saw the sweets bag that the Sweets Prince was holding, and knew right away. Itâs the same bag of sweets that Iâve always seen, that always has the fragrant smell of snacks that you put in. I did some investigating and found out that the bag isnât mass produced. It has a unique Northern European design with a double ziploc that prevents moisture, and is only sold in certain kitchenware stores. Itâs the same bag that was in the posted photo. Ah, I canât hold it any longer! Itâs the same bag that I thought about stealing from.ã
ãâ¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦ã
Who wouldâve thought someone would actually look into someone elseâs bag for snacks.
As a college student, Iâm busy with my studies and club activities, so I make snacks on Sundays. Since I canât finish all of it in one day, I bring the leftovers to school and eat it when I feel peckish.
I donât do it every time, and I never thought that the bag would blow my cover.
ãI also knew that you were hiding the fact that you were Chocolat. Anyone in your position would predict that coming forward will eventually lead to a huge scandal. In this whole Chocolat case, I stand to gain the most. Without having to resort stealing, I can get the snacks I want through coercion instead.ã
ãUh, I think coercion is just as bad.ã
ãI have only one demand. If you donât want this to spread, you will bring me the snacks. Youâre the one making them, right?ã
ãYeah, but⦠Didnât it occur to you that someone else could have made it?ã
I bring the snacks to school, but it doesnât necessarily mean that Iâm the one making them.
ãItâs easy to figure out after observing for over a year. Also, youâve been writing recipes in class instead of listening to the lectures. What are you taking classes for? Do you feel no shame for wasting the school fees your parents are paying for you?ã
ãSame goes for you for watching me all the time.ã
Iâve been writing recipes and drawing decorations in class. To think heâs been paying attention not only to the bag of sweets in my backpack, but also to what Iâve been doing.
ãHmph. Iâm on a totally different standing compared to you. Iâm exempted from school fees, and the class is basic enough that I can afford to sit out. Iâm only there for the attendance.ã
What a sarcastic guy.
Using my superior athleticism, I snatch a macaron from the paper plate.
I stuff it into my mouth and eat it while Mizuhara uncontrollably yelps in shock.
ãHey you! That macaron is one of the top in the National Sweets Ranking. I wonât let someone like you have it!ã
ãâ¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦ã
That pissed me off even more, so I snatch a marshmallow. Mizuhara contorts his face in frustration, complaining that the marshmallow took a monthâs reservation.
After letting out a huge sigh, he puts the paper plate into the drawer and locks it, then puts the drawer key into a safe deposit box with a dial lock.
Thatâs going a little far⦠Iâm more amazed than surprised at his obsession with snacks.
ãBut even if it smells tasty, it doesnât mean it actually tastes good. Are you gonna tell me that youâll spill the beans if it ends up tasting bad?ã
Making snacks is a simple task.
Even if it tastes good, itâs probably only above average. Obviously, I canât hold a candle to a real professional. The quality of the ingredients is different in the first place.
I get the flour, sugar, and butter when they go on sale in the supermarket.
Thereâs no way I can compare my snacks with national gourmet sweets.
ãNo, Iâll stop getting involved with you if it tastes bad, and I definitely wonât tell on you or cause you any trouble. Itâs nothing personal, Iâm only interested in your snacks. In the worst case scenario, Iâll simply curse my luck for wasting my time on a worthless person like you.ã
ãYou wonât complain about me to your friends either?ã
Iâm relieved that the condition is simply to make the snacks regardless of taste, but at the same time, Iâm annoyed with Mizuharaâs attitude.
He wonât tell on me or be mean as long as he gets his snacks, so heâs not really trying to be enemies, but his personality is still irritating.
ãNope. I donât have friends anyway.ã
ãAh, thatâs why you have a messed up personality, huh.ã
I donât know if itâs because he has no friends that he has a messed up personality, or if itâs because he has a messed up personality that he has no friends. Itâs a chicken and egg dilemma.
ãThat kind of relationship is beneath me. Bring the snacks to General Economics class next Monday if thatâs okay.ã
ãThatâs fine, but are you okay with anything? Tell me if thereâs anything you donât like. Itâs not an issue about the taste, but thereâs no point if you wonât eat it in the first place. So do you have a preference?ã
Reacting strongly to what I said, Mizuhara took a sketchbook from the book rack.
There are scrap drawings, photos, and packaging of various sweets in the sketchbook. He has 3 of these sketchbooks.
ãYouâre⦠insaneâ¦ã
Mizuhara scrutinizes the book, flipping the pages vigorously.
I wait while drinking the tea.
20 minutes have passed.
ãCould you please decide soon?ã
I snatch the sketchbook from Mizuhara as heâs taking forever to decide. I randomly pick something that looks easy to make.
ãWell, I wonât expect too much from you. Itâs highly possible that youâll make something of your own caliber. Oh yeah, hereâs the money for ingredients.ã
ãThatâs strangely righteous for an arrogant and sarcastic guy like you!ã
He gives me an envelope that says 3000 yen.
2
ãItâs fine. Youâre helping me keep it a secret after all.ã
I wave my hand and reject the envelope. Mizuhara gives me a questioning look.
ãArenât you wearing those washed out shirts and reusing the same pairs of jeans a few days in a row because youâre using the money for ingredients instead?ã
Heâs the worst! Mizuhara. Has been looking at my snacks and also my clothes.
ãI just find it a pain to go shopping for clothes! How obsessed with snacks are you to think that Iâm poor because of ingredients?!ã
In any case, I donât need the money so I return it.
If anyone asks me if my snacks are worth 3000 yen, Iâll deny it outright.
Itâs hard to understand a twisted guy like Mizuhara, but doesnât it look like heâs having some expectation for my snacks?
Heâs wanted to try my snacks for over a year. His feelings about it may have grown stronger than he expected.
Imaginations get inflated after all.
Dreams get bigger after all.
Looking at his research saturated with sweets, I sigh from the intense pressure.
Thereâs no benefit or loss whether the snacks are tasty or not. But it feels bad when I imagine Mizuhara compliment my snacks with a straight face on Monday.
Heâs definitely having expectations!
Ugh⦠Itâs the first time Iâm stressed out about making snacks.
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