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“I can’t eat this,” Nanako whispers, her voice so small it’s nearly inaudible. Suguru realizes, when he turns to find her leaning in towards Mimiko, that she likely hadn’t intended for him to hear at all. A complicated expression rests on Mimiko’s face as she stares down at Nanako’s bowl.
“Let me try to pick it out,” she offers, pulling Nanako’s bowl closer to her. She takes her own chopsticks and begins flicking bits out of the fried rice.
Suguru frowns to himself. He’d asked girls if fried rice was okay—it was something he could make with the food in his parents’ fridge and something that wouldn’t take long—and they assured him they would eat it. He’d left them to finish cleaning themselves in the bathroom while he disposed of the bodies that had once been his parents, then changed clothes and proceeded to begin making dinner.
The girls are clearly smaller than they should be; their ribs poke out, skin pressed taut against them. They are nothing but skin and bone, and Suguru doesn’t want to know how long it’s been since their last full meal, so his top priority had been feeding them.
He supposes, though, he should have thought to be more specific—to run through all the ingredients on hand and make sure everything would pass the taste test of two young girls.
But he hadn’t been thinking, because if he thinks for too long, he’ll crumble under the weight of what he’s done. He’d simply put his mind to the task at hand, and he’d let the scent of the sizzling ingredients in the skillet overtake him.
He brings two glasses of water to the table, setting one down in front of each girl. “Is there something you don’t like in the rice?” he asks. They can try to pick it out this time, but in the future, Suguru figures it will be easier to just avoid it entirely.
The future.
Assuming these two will stay with him?
It’s not like they have anywhere else to go. Suguru doesn’t trust any monkey to care for them, not after what they’ve been through. And he can’t very well take them back to Jujutsu High. It won’t be long before they declare him an enemy of jujutsu society, and the only people at that school Suguru trusts are no more suited to care for children than Suguru himself is.
The girls both look up, eyes wide and frightened.
“It’s fine,” Nanako says quickly, taking her bowl back. “I’ll eat it.” She moves the food closer, curling her arms around it protectively. Mimiko stares down at the table, shoulders hunched.
Suguru is not qualified for this.
“Okay,” he says hesitantly. “But…if there’s something I put in it that you don’t like, could you tell me, so I can avoid it next time?”
Assuming there is a next time. Assuming someone from Jujutsu High isn’t already on their way here, prepared to kill the girls alongside Suguru, framing them as his accomplices though they can’t be older than six.
The girls look at each other, both still tense. They seem to have a silent conversation, speaking without making a sound. As if they can read each other’s minds.
Finally, in a voice so quiet Suguru has to strain to hear it, Nanako admits, “I’m not supposed to eat eggs.”
Suguru blinks.
Eggs.
He’d added eggs for protein, and because he figured he might as well use them before he and the girls leave this place behind and the rest of the food in the fridge rots. He’d expected Nanako to be picky about one of the vegetables—he remembers all too well his own distaste towards peas as a child.
But…
“What do you mean ‘not supposed to’?” Suguru asks.
Nanako shrinks back, and Suguru reminds himself that speaking with children is not at all like speaking with Satoru and Shoko. He has to watch his tone, especially with these two. He can yell at Satoru until he’s lost his voice, and Satoru will just laugh in his face.
That is not the case with Nanako and Mimiko.
“I’m not angry,” Suguru explains, “just confused.”
“It makes my throat feel weird and itchy, and my tongue swells,” Nanako informs him. “But— it’s okay. I can still eat it. I’m used to i—”
“No,” Suguru says very decisively. He wishes he had the power to resurrect that village full of monkeys just so he could slaughter them all over again, more painful and drawn out than the first time around. Because Suguru does not have much experience with allergies, but even he would not be heartless enough to feed a starving child something that could kill them.
Nanako’s eyes widen in fear.
“I’ll make you something else,” Suguru adds quickly. “But I can’t let you eat that.”
Nanako’s shoulders slump. She pushes the bowl away from her, across the table, towards where Suguru is standing. “It’s okay. I don’t need anything.”
Suguru closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath, and counts backwards from ten in his head. He’s already done all he can in terms of enacting revenge; what Nanako needs right now is food that will not turn her body against itself. She needs to know that she is allowed to eat, regardless of any dietary restrictions she may have.
“How about a sandwich?” Suguru suggests, because he knows he saw meat and cheese, at least, in the fridge. And it won’t take long to make, so Nanako can still eat at the same time as her sister.
Nanako nods, and some of the tension finally evaporates from her shoulders.
A small step in the right direction, but little progress is better than none. Suguru just hopes he has enough time to help these two heal.
(He hopes he has the capability to help them heal, even if he can’t help himself.)
— —
As it turns out, eggs are in just about everything.
Suguru learns this the first time he takes the girls grocery shopping, when they both pull things from the cart and inform him they’re pretty sure Nanako cannot eat it.
Suguru obediently reads over the ingredients list, and when he inevitably realizes that it does, in fact, list eggs, he places it back on the shelf.
Baked goods, breaded foods, certain pasta dishes, even some bread. Why does bread need eggs? Isn’t it just flour, milk, and yeast? Why must the world be so adamantly against allergy-friendly foods?
Why must parenting be so hard?
Still, Suguru pushes through. He learns which foods Nanako absolutely cannot have. He learns which stores sell egg-free alternatives. He learns to search for restaurants with vegan options, on the rare occasions they go out to eat.
He learns there are still things left to learn in this world—and that new knowledge can come from unexpected places.
— —
As a thank you for curing her ailment (see: removing a cursed spirit from her shoulders), an elderly woman presents Suguru with a box of cookies, fresh from the bakery she owns. Sugar thanks her politely, and once she’s gone, he makes to dispose of the food entirely. He doesn’t particularly trust food handmade by monkeys and gifted so willingly. For all he knows, she could be lying about owning a bakery.
Besides, they can’t eat cookies unless said cookies are vegan, because cookies are made with eggs.
“Wait!” Mimiko calls out, just before Suguru can dump the box into the trash. “What’s that?”
“Cookies,” Suguru answers simply. “Unfortunately, I’m sure Nanako won’t be able to eat them…” his voice trails off when he sees the pleading expression on Mimikoo’s face. She won’t outright ask to try one, but it’s clear she wants to.
However, it wouldn’t be fair to Nanako if Mimiko gets cookies while she doesn’t. Suguru has been very particular about ensuring they all follow Nanako’s dietary restrictions, so Nanako doesn’t feel left out. And because the one time Suguru tried to fry eggs for he and Mimiko, Nanako complained about the smell making her feel sick.
So, to be safe, Suguru has simply eliminated eggs from their diets entirely. There are other ways to get protein, and the girls’ safety is his top concern.
But the despairing want in Mimiko’s eyes gives him pause. There is no truly fair solution in this situation—either Mimiko gets a cookie while Nanako doesn’t, or Suguru keeps the cookies away from Mimiko for something that isn’t her fault.
“It’s okay,” Nanako pipes up, having suddenly appeared next to Mimiko. “You guys can eat the cookies. The lady was really nice when she gave them to you, so it would be bad to just throw them away.”
Suguru relents.
“You’re right,” he agrees. He returns the box of cookies to the table, then beckons Mimiko over. “You can have one right now,” he tells her. “But you still have to eat dinner tonight.”
Mimiko nods obediently. Carefully, she selects a chocolate chip cookie, then settles down in her seat and begins to eat. She takes small, slow bites, clearly savoring it, and Suguru knows she isn’t trying to rub her good fortune in Nanako’s face, but that doesn’t stop the pained longing filling Nanako’s eyes.
So, Suguru makes a decision. He knows vegan cookies aren’t as good as the real deal, but they’re always safe for Nanako. However, she doesn’t need cookies to omit all animal products; only eggs. So if Suguru can find a recipe somewhere that is merely egg-free instead of entirely vegan…
It might be tricky—Suguru has never been particularly skilled in baking, though he can prepare meals for himself and the girls well enough—but it certainly wouldn’t hurt to try. And he has a feeling the girls will enjoy the process regardless of how the cookies turn out.
All he has to do now is find a recipe that suits his needs and collect the necessary ingredients.
— —
Suguru stares at the ingredients laid out on the counter.
Nanako pokes the bag of sugar. “Do you really think this will work?”
No. Suguru does not have much faith this will work. His recipe is from some monkey with a “mommy cooking blog” that was last active six months ago, with no pictures of the final product or explanation of how the cookies are successful even despite the lack of eggs. But it was the only recipe he could find, and he promised the girls they could at least try.
He doesn’t want to get their hopes up, but he also doesn’t want to bring the mood down before they’ve even started. So he tells them, “I’m not sure if it’ll work or not, but all we can do is try and see what happens.”
Mimiko nods. “We can have fun making the cookies even if they taste bad!”
Nanako seems to find this acceptable, because the hesitation in her expression melts into excitement, and Suguru breathes out a silent sigh of relief. He’s still trying to figure out this whole parenting thing, and every time he manages to make the girls happy is counted as a victory in his mind.
Suguru looks over the ingredients, then checks what he has against the recipe he printed off, making sure everything has been set out. The butter has been thawing since this morning, since the recipe claims room-temperature butter works better. Everything else was retrieved only a few minutes prior, just before Suguru called the girls out to the kitchen, so he wouldn’t have to worry about them insisting they could find the ingredients only to wreak havoc while searching, leaving the kitchen a disaster before the baking even began.
Once he’s satisfied he’s gathered everything they’ll need, he turns to the girls. “Can one of you turn the oven on for me? We want it at 175.”
“I’ll do it!” Nanako volunteers.
“Perfect. Mimiko, can you grab a butter knife from the silverware drawer?”
Mimiko nods dutifully before setting off to accomplish her given task.
Suguru has the girls take turns adding ingredients to the bowl. When they have to use the mixer, Suguru splits the time between them, and keeps his hands firmly over theirs as he guides the mixer around the bowl, explaining how to keep the dough from splattering up. Nanako begs for a chance to try the mixer without Suguru’s help, but Suguru does not particularly feel like cleaning the butter-sugar mix off the floor, the cupboards, and out of their clothes, so he shuts that request down firmly, trying to remain as gentle as he can.
Thankfully, Nanako doesn’t seem too upset.
The recipe only calls for about a half a bag of chocolate chips, but Suguru knows both Nanako and Mimiko have a sweet tooth, so he lets them both pour some into the dough until they’re satisfied—though he prevents them from going too overboard with it. He’d rather not eat cookies that are more chocolate than cookie, and it sort of defeats the purpose of making egg-free cookies in the first place if all you can taste is the chocolate.
Suguru folds the chocolate chips into the dough, trying to emulate the actions and proper mixing form he remembers from when his mother made sweets. He doesn’t bother offering to let the girls try this part, simply explaining that the dough is thick and therefore hard to mix the chocolate chips into—but when they get older, they’ll get stronger, and then they can help Suguru mix cookie dough.
Nanako frowns and mumbles something about already being strong, but other than that, they’re both content to just watch.
Once the dough is ready, Suguru shows the girls how to scoop it from the bowl and roll it into a ball before placing it on the baking sheet. Then, he steps back and lets them make the balls of dough on their own.
They all turn out lopsided, and Mimiko somehow ends up with cookie dough in her hair while Nanako keeps “sampling” the dough left sticking to her fingers. But they’re laughing and having fun, so Suguru allows it, stamping down the urge to scold them for the mess like Suguru’s mother would have done to him. He is not going to be his mother, and he is not going to let these girls feel unloved ever again.
Even if it means he’ll have extra cleaning to do after this, and both of the girls will need a bath tonight.
After all of the dough has been rolled into balls and placed on the baking sheet, Suguru puts the tray into the oven and starts a timer. He takes a deep breath before turning to face the girls.
“Okay,” he tells them. “Now we need to wash your hands. …And your faces.”
They both giggle. Suguru sighs, but it sounds unbearably fond, even to his own ears.
— —
The four minutes Suguru makes the girls wait after the cookies are out of the oven, giving them a chance to cool, are the longest four minutes of Suguru’s entire life. Truly, Suguru did not know just how long even a single minute can stretch on for until he had two girls staring at a tray of freshly-baked cookies, mouths watering, asking over and over when they could try one, as the chocolatey aroma swirled through the air.
To their credit, though, the cookies do look good. Suguru can not remember the last time he ate cookies like this—warm, homemade, straight from the oven, and by the time the four minutes he allotted for cooling time have passed, he’s desperate to try one as well.
He moves three cookies onto a plate, then sits down at the table with the girls. The plate goes in the middle, positioned so they can all reach, and Suguru warns them to be careful because the cookies may still be hot.
His words go unheard, but at this point, he’s fairly certain neither of the girls care if they burn their mouths so long as they finally get a taste.
Their first bites are taken in unison, and Suguru braces himself for disappointment.
It never comes.
“Oh,” Nanako whispers. She looks at her cookie with wide eyes, then over at Mimiko. “Is this— This is what cookies taste like?”
Mimiko nods emphatically, taking another large bite of her cookie. With her mouth full, she exclaims, “These are sooooo good!!” She swallows, then adds, “Thank you so much, Geto-sama!”
The tension Suguru hadn’t realized he’d been holding in his shoulders dissipates. The cookies are good, and both Nanako and Mimiko can enjoy them, and he isn’t a failure of an adoptive father.
“Try it!” Nanako insists, pushing the plate towards Suguru before devouring the rest of her cookie.
Suguru chuckles as he picks up the remaining cookie. It’s warm and gooey, and when he takes a bite, he’s surprised at how…normal it tastes. If he didn’t know it was made without eggs, he never would have guessed it was safe for Nanako to eat. The texture is only slightly off, but other than that, Suguru can’t find a difference between this cookie and his memories of cookies bought when out with Satoru and Shoko on their rare free days.
He had fully intended to limit the girls to one cookie each for the time being, but Nanako’s pure, unbridled, excitement at finally being able to eat something she’d previously only been able to look at from afar sways Suguru into allowing them both a second. It won’t hurt them, and it’s worth the gleeful cheering and smiles as Suguru lifts two more cookies from the tray.
And maybe, he thinks, they can try making something else next time. Some other type of cookie, or maybe cupcakes—something else Nanako hasn’t ever really been able to eat, so Suguru can offer her at least one childhood normalcy.
Even if it’s the only one he can manage.