The Top Idol Next Door Can't Help But Crave My Guilty Pleasure Meals-Chapter 1Volume 2 .2 - From Now On, I Will Be Yuzukis Caretaker!

ROUND 1 – From Now On, I Will Be Yuzuki’s Caretaker! 2

“Prepare yourself for a special dish tonight!”

“You seem quite confident. But I have no intention of losing today!”

There hasn’t been a single day when Yuzuki has won against my guilty pleasure meal. Though she verbally rejects it, she inevitably gives in—that’s the usual pattern. She must be aware of it herself.

However, Yuzuki’s expression remains full of confidence.

“It’s been a week since I last ate your cooking, Suzufumi.”

“I last ate… I mean, we couldn’t find the right time because of your busy schedule.”

“That’s right. In other words, I’ve successfully detoxed myself from your immoral meals!”

Yuzuki puffs out her chest with a triumphant “hmmph.”

“Even now, with Suzufumi’s Okamochi right in front of me, my heart isn’t the slightest bit disturbed. I could even skip dinner tonight without any problems!”

“There’s no way you’d be fine. Suddenly cutting down on your meals would shock your body.”

“It’s not sudden. After all, I’ve barely had anything but nutrition bars and protein for the past week.”

“…”

This girl. She’s gone back to her extreme dieting the moment I took my eyes off her.

“Thanks to that, I feel light and everything is going smoothly. I’m not foolish enough to jump at Suzufumi’s cooking when I’m in such perfect condition!”

What do you mean by ‘not foolish enough’? You’ll surely collapse from hunger again if you keep living like that.

No, in a way, I’m relieved. Now I can serve dinner without any reservations.

We head to the kitchen at the end of the hallway.

Despite her resistance to my cooking, Yuzuki always ends up letting me into her room one way or another.

Whether that’s being polite or just easy to sway, I’m not sure.

The dining kitchen is very simple. There’s only the bare minimum of furniture and almost no sign of personal tastes or hobbies.

The reason isn’t just Yuzuki’s lack of interest in interior decorating but also because she decided to declutter following a near-attempt at moving out of the apartment.

I helped out with that and even did a thorough cleaning while I was at it.

Thanks to that, room 810 is as sparkling clean as a new home.

“Just wait at the table, Yuzuki.”

“Well, whatever you make—my victory is certain!”

Yuzuki sits down on the cushion in front of the low table and crosses her arms.

I’m curious to see how long she can maintain that composure.

I start taking out ingredients from the Okamochi.

The main components are beef, lettuce, tomato, onion, cheese, and buns.

One look at these and it’s clear what I’m about to make.

“Heh, so it’s hamburger today?”

“It’s something a top idol like you would never get to eat at a restaurant, right?”

It’s the most accessible and top fast food for us high school students. A fitting dish for Yuzuki, who holds the unshakable center position in her idol group.

First, let’s start with the preparation of the meat patty, the core of the hamburger.

The cut of beef we’re using today is the shoulder loin. The meat is finely textured and lean, allowing for a robust flavor. I’ll finely chop it with a knife.

“Huh, wasn’t there any ground meat available?”

A question flies in from the living room.

“It’s intentional. Sure, using ground meat would make the patty’s texture uniform and less likely to have unevenness. But this time, I’m pushing the meatiness to the forefront by mixing finely chopped and coarsely ground meat.”

“Hmm, I see.”

I casually glance back to find that Yuzuki, who was supposed to be sitting at the table, had moved about fifty centimeters closer to the kitchen.

This scene feels familiar.

“Of course, there will be no breadcrumbs or eggs as filler. The seasoning will be simple: salt and plenty of black pepper. We’re going wild.”

From the living room, I hear the sound of someone swallowing their saliva.

The cooking has just begun.

The formed patties are thoroughly well-seared. The chunks of meat sizzle and roar as they’re placed on the frying pan.

At the same time, I heat the split buns in the oven toaster. The tomatoes are sliced one centimeter thick, and the lettuce is torn into bite-sized pieces

Suddenly, I sense a presence at my shoulder.

I might suspect a ghost if I were at home, but this is my neighbor’s place. The culprit is obvious.

Lured by the smell of meat and oil, Yuzuki is watching the cooking process right behind me like a cat drawn to food.

“I-I’m just watching! It’s called scouting the enemy!”

Yuzuki’s expression is fierce, but there’s a somewhat fidgety air about her.

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Now, perhaps it’s time to make my move. I release a square of the Yellow Devil onto the browned patty.

Its true identity is a carefully aged cheddar cheese.

As the heat transfers, the thick slice of cheese slowly starts to lose its shape, merging with the patty as if it had been there all along.

I pick up a bite-sized chunk of meat that I had been frying on the edge of the pan with chopsticks.

“Want to try a taste?”

“…As if I’d eat that.”

“Is that so? Then I’ll have it myself.”

As I casually bring it to my mouth, Yuzuki makes a small “ah” motion.

“Yeah, I have to say, it’s quite good.”

“Grr…”

Yuzuki shoots me a resentful look before returning to the cushion in front of the table.

The buns seem to have toasted nicely. When I open the oven toaster, the scent of wheat and sesame wafts gently through the air.

Everything is ready. All that’s left is the final assault.

I sit down across from Yuzuki while holding a tray with the ingredients.

“No matter how much you tempt me right in front of my eyes, the outcome won’t change.”