The morning air was crisp, like someone had taken a deep breath and held it just long enough to make the forest still.
Birds chirped. Firewood cracked. And I stood in front of the campsite kitchen station with one terrifying realization:
I was about to cook with Shinbou Ryusei. Alone.
Our group had been assigned breakfast duty.
Hinata had volunteered for "supervising from a distance" (a.k.a. gossiping with Itsuki by the campfire).
Everyone else? Mysteriously vanished.
Which left just me and Shinbou.
At the stove.
With eggs.
---
"Can you crack those?" I asked, holding out a carton.
He stared at them like they were nuclear devices.
"I've never made eggs before," he said.
"Never?"
"I don't think so."
"…You're kidding."
"I'm not."
I handed him one slowly, like I was handing a toddler a sword. "Well… let's learn."
---
CRACK.
Shell exploded everywhere.
I burst out laughing. "Okay, not like that."
His lips twitched. "Too much force?"
"It looked like you punched it."
He picked up another egg, slower this time. Concentrated.
This time, a clean crack.
I clapped. "Wow. Growth."
He actually smiled , smiled and said, "Thanks, Coach."
I blinked.
Was that a joke?
From Shinbou?
---
We moved through the motions.
Oil sizzling, toast burning (just once), eggs scrambling in lumpy yellow chaos.
I passed him the salt. Our fingers brushed again brief but electric.
He didn't pull away.
Neither did I.
---
"So…" I said, stirring a pot of rice porridge, "What do you usually eat for breakfast?"
He tilted his head. "Not sure."
"Not sure?"
He shrugged. "I… don't really remember."
My hands froze around the spoon.
"Is that… normal for you?"
A beat passed.
Then:
"I get fragments. Feelings. Like I've done things before, but I can't place where or with who."
I looked up at him.
And for the first time maybe ever he wasn't guarded.
He wasn't blank or cold or pretending.
He looked…
Lost.
---
"I had a dream last night," I blurted.
He glanced at me. "What kind?"
"I was standing in a field. There was a swing set. A toy train. And laughter."
He didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Then quietly asked, "Did someone disappear?"
My heart skipped.
"Yes."
Neither of us said anything after that.
---
The rice bubbled softly. The eggs had cooled. The toast was… toast.
But something else simmered between us unspoken and unfinished.
Something that felt a lot like remembering.
---
When we served breakfast to the rest of the group, Hinata took one bite and gasped.
"Okay, I take back everything. This is edible. Good job, power couple."
I nearly dropped the ladle. "We are not!"
"Sure you're not," she winked.
Shinbou didn't say anything.
But when he handed me the dish towel to dry the plates, our hands touched again.
And this time…
He didn't look away.