Sam rummaged through Mahiru's kitchen cabinets, trying to figure out what he could make. Most of her shelves were neatly stocked, but some things were missing—probably because she hadn't expected to cook much while sick.
He sighed. "Mahiru, do you even have anything I can make into soup?"
She was sitting on the couch, bundled in a blanket, watching him with tired eyes. "There's some miso paste in the fridge… and maybe some tofu?"
Sam checked. Luckily, she wasn't wrong. He pulled out what he needed and started preparing a simple miso soup.
Meanwhile, Mahiru watched him with an expression somewhere between amusement and disbelief.
"I didn't know you could cook," she murmured.
Sam huffed. "I can make simple stuff. I'm not completely useless, you know."
Mahiru smiled faintly. "That's unexpected."
He glanced at her. "What, you thought I'd let you starve?"
She shook her head. "No, it's just… I guess I've never had anyone cook for me before."
Sam paused. He hadn't expected that. "Not even your parents?"
She hesitated before answering. "…They were always busy. I got used to managing on my own."
His grip tightened on the spoon as he stirred the soup. The thought of Mahiru, all alone, taking care of herself—even when sick—didn't sit right with him.
A few minutes later, he placed a steaming bowl of miso soup in front of her. "Eat."
Mahiru blinked. "You sound like my mom."
"Then listen like a good kid and eat."
She giggled weakly but obediently lifted the spoon. As soon as she took a sip, her shoulders relaxed. "Mmm… it's good."
Sam smirked. "Told you."
She continued eating, and for a while, there was only silence. Comfortable silence.
When she finished, Sam took the bowl back to the kitchen. By the time he returned, Mahiru had dozed off on the couch, her blanket slipping off her shoulders.
He sighed and walked over, gently adjusting the blanket to cover her properly.
As he looked at her peaceful face, something in his chest tightened.
Softly, almost without thinking, he muttered, "You really should rely on people more, you know…"
Mahiru stirred slightly, but she didn't wake up.
Sam sighed and sat down on the floor beside the couch, resting his back against it. He wasn't planning to leave just yet.
After all, if Mahiru wasn't going to rely on anyone—then at the very least, he would stay by her side.
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