Broth trickled down the bluestone steps.
It was greasy, with a layer of oil shimmering on top.
Several pieces of golden-fried pork cutlet had rolled into the grass.
They were covered in mud and bits of leaves.
Sen stared at the mess on the ground, his head buzzing.
Hinata was crying so hard she could barely breathe.
Both hands clutched the hem of her clothes, her knuckles turning white.
Her large, pure-white eyes brimmed with tears, droplets clinging to her lashes.
They hung there, threatening to fall. She looked pitiful.
"Teacher Kurenai... Sen... how could you..."
She stammered, unable to get a single complete sentence out.
Her shoulders shook with each sob.
Up on the second-floor balcony, Kurenai burst out laughing.
Far from looking embarrassed, she adjusted the bath towel around her chest.
She leaned halfway over the railing and looked down.
"What are you imagining, little Hinata?"
"Think you're in some tragic romance?"
"I quit my job and came here to be his unpaid housekeeper."
"Coming here in the middle of the night with a lunchbox weighing dozens of pounds-don't your arms ache?"
Hinata froze.
A tear that had slipped from the corner of her eye still hung from her chin, threatening to fall.
She sniffled, the tip of her nose bright red.
"H-housekeeper?"
She looked at Sen in his flip-flops, then at Kurenai on the balcony.
Sen hurriedly nodded like his life depended on it.
"Right, right! She's just here to help me pull weeds."
"She worked up a sweat and took a shower afterward."
"We definitely weren't doing anything else!"
As he spoke, Sen crouched down to pick up the lunchbox.
It was made of fine rosewood and was quite heavy.
Now a huge crack ran through it.
Broth had splashed straight onto Sen's flip-flops.
It was