{Our Happiness 1}

When we got home, Miu immediately started making the beef stew.

Since it was already getting late, I decided to help her out. However, the key was to only do what she asked; if I helped too much, she might feel disappointed.

“Okay, Atsushi-kun, can you peel the potatoes for me?”
“Got it.”

Following her request, I stood at the sink and grabbed a knife. Meanwhile, Miu started frying the onions she’d already chopped. The sizzling sound filled the air, and her face looked surprisingly focused as she stirred the onions with chopsticks. I noticed her frown for a moment, so I asked quietly:

“Is it stinging your eyes?”
“Yeah.”

Miu squeezed her eyes shut and blinked a few times.
“Onions sting when you cook them too, don’t they?”
“That’s because the sulfur compounds spread through the air.”

“I see… I wonder if wearing glasses would help.”

Though she said that, I knew plugging your nose would actually be more effective, but I didn’t mention it. I knew she wouldn’t want to do that, and honestly, I didn’t want her to either.

“Cooking is harder than it seems, huh?”

As she resumed frying the onions, bearing the sting, she sighed as if she had just remembered something.

“Making a single meal isn’t too bad, but doing it every day is pretty impressive. I realize now how hard my mom worked.”

Miu’s mother worked full-time and often cooked dinner as well. Although Miu lived with her grandparents, their food preferences and meal times were different. Miu often helped, but it was still a challenge.

“You used to cook for yourself, right, Atsushi-kun?”
“Not every day. My parents were really busy sometimes, though.”

“Still, that’s pretty admirable.”

Hearing her praise me in such a serious tone made me feel a little embarrassed.

Back when I lived at home, I mostly cooked whatever I wanted to eat. The idea of balance or variety wasn’t really on my radar. There were even times when I made stir-fried vegetables and meat for three days straight, thinking as long as I ate some vegetables, it was fine. My parents would come home exhausted, but they never complained and ate whatever I made.

What I’ve learned since we started living together is that cooking for someone else is a lot more challenging.

For her sake, I have to prioritize nutritional balance, but at the same time, I can’t let her get bored with the meals or she might not eat them. Although I feel like she’d probably eat whatever I made without complaint, that’s exactly why I don’t want to push her too hard. I’ve secretly been expanding my repertoire, even buying recipe books—digitally, of course, so she wouldn’t feel like I was going too far out of my way.

Thanks to that, I can now make most basic dishes.

That said, I don’t have a wide range of recipes yet. I can handle planning meals for a week, but if you asked me to plan a month’s worth, I’d be pretty stumped.

“I want to be able to cook as well as you, Atsushi-kun,” Miu said as she added the beef to the pot.

It seems that in the Satou family, beef stew is always made with large chunks of meat. It’s hearty and really delicious.

As Miu started searing the beef, her face focused again, I popped the peeled potatoes into the microwave. This step was crucial to prevent them from falling apart during the simmering process.

By the time the microwave finished, Miu had moved on to frying the carrots.

“Should I get the water ready soon?”
“Yeah, please.”

After getting her confirmation, I measured out water in a measuring cup for half a box of beef stew roux. I handed it to her, and she poured the water into the pot, then covered it with a lid and let out a small sigh.

“Alright, now we let it simmer for a while.”

She said this like she was double-checking her steps, and her cheeks were already flushed red from standing in front of the stove for so long. It was only natural, given how long she’d been frying things. Her expression remained as serious as ever, and it was all I could do to keep from laughing. She looked so cute.