Am I The Only Male Tenant Here? Chapter 2 2: She Wore That Just to Cook...!?

Evening fell on Tokyo with the soft glow of spring, the golden hour casting long shadows over sidewalks scattered with drifting sakura petals. The warm wind carried hints of flowers and fragrant rain.

I stepped out of the apartnt with a mission: don't arrive empty-handed for dinner. It's my first al with my apartnt manager, and I was raised with manners. As a man of culture, I am aware that showing up empty-handed is akin to forgetting one's pants.

In short, a personal failure.

You don't mooch without an offering—especially not when your host is a bombshell in her forties.

What do I bring, though?

Luckily, I rembered seeing a wagashi shop nearby when I first arrived. My village sotis received confectioneries as gifts from the tourists at nearby lodges, so I knew how delectable they could be.

Most wagashi shops doubled as stands at roadside temples and shrines, where anyone could buy for reasonable prices—around ¥1000 for 11 types. There were red bean jellies and soft mochi, along with sweeter rice flour or chestnut cake topped with chocolate frosting. There were all manner of savory, nutty, or mild delicacies that wouldn't be overwheldwith the introduction of spices, unlike your local convenience store snacks.

Bingo.

I could already imagine walking in and seeing Tomoko's big brown eyes go wide in surprise and delight, and sothing tingled inside my chest.

Smiling with delight, I entered the shop, which was tucked behind a vending machine and half a noodle shop, and was an old-fashioned confectionery store that looked like it had survived three eras and a kaiju attack.

As I had suspected, the vast majority of its souvenirs and sweets were sold on the front, but in the very back was a glass refrigerated case cramd with cakes, fresh crepes, and other goodies.

I was surrounded by colorful eye candy and slled the exotic scents wafting from them. What was a guy like to do? Maybe I could get Tomoko to choose for . That way, she'd feel involved and wouldn't feel like I didn't trust her opinion.

So, I took out my phone.

From: , To: Matsumoto-san: How do you feel about strawberries?

A little while passed before a response ca back. The dots whirling left and right were agonizing.

Finally, a text.