Ichinomiya Megumi picked up her spoon
and dug into the omurice.

A bead of sweat trickled down my temples
as I awaited her opinion.

Ah, geez...

what am I getting all nervous for?

It's not like she's a food critic or anything...

She's just a hikikomori!

--albeit an extremely pretty and rich one

whose words could deal some serious damage on my heart.

To further add to the pressure,
Ichinomiya would take little swift glances at me as she ate.

Uwah,

just as I thought...

She's the type to properly chew her food...

"So...

how is it?"

I asked tentatively,
making sure to speak
only after she had fully gulped down her first bite.

"It's..."

Ichinomiya Megumi's voice faded away,
leaving her sentence unfinished.

And without a single warning,

moisture began to

drip

down

the

side

of

her

face.

Are those...

.

.

.

tears?