The Tale of a Century \\ SoraMafu

> Seven <

"Welcome back, Mom."

"I'm home! Is Dad back, yet?"

"No."

"Is Mafumafu-kun doing okay?"

"Yeah, he is. He's in our room right now."

"Oh, I'm going to be making dinner, so tell him to come down when it's ready."

"Sure."

Soraru's mom disappeared into the kitchen, and Soraru headed back upstairs to where Mafu was. When Soraru opened the door, Mafu quickly scrambled with something, slammed his newly bought journal shut, and turned to face Soraru. Eyeing the journal behind Mafu, he asked, "What were you doing?"

"Nothing much," Mafu replied, slowly making his way towards the window. Soraru walked over to the bed, throwing glances at the journal on the table. "Mom said that dinner will be ready soon," Soraru continued.

Mafu was leaning against the window, eyes focused on somewhere outside. Soraru took a deep breath, "Are you getting used to living here?"

"Yes," Mafu said, still not looking at Soraru.

"What do you think about Amatsuki?"

Mafu thought for a moment. "I don't think Amatsuki-san is a bad person," he said.

Soraru only nodded.

There was nothing eventful until dinner, as per usual. Mafu went downstairs first. Soraru followed, but not before throwing one last look at the journal lying on the table. When he entered the kitchen, Soraru spotted his dad sitting down at the table. He must have gotten back when Mafu and he were upstairs.

Soraru looked down at the platters of food, and his eyes landed on one in particular. "Hey, Mom?" Soraru called.

"Yes?"

He pointed down at the plate, "Isn't that dish supposed to be spicy?"

She sighed, "I know you don't like spicy food, but..."

"I'm okay with it," Mafu said.

Soraru stared at Mafu, "Are you a masochist?"

Soraru's mom set down her things, "Soraru!"

He held up his hands, "Well, people who like spicy food must be weird or masochists, right? And I don't think Mafu-kun is weird..."

"How many times did I tell you not to say things like that out loud!"

"Well, I'm sorry that my logic is different?!"

A soft chuckle cut off both their bickering and Soraru turned to where the sound came from. It was Mafu with his hand covering his mouth in attempts to hide his laughing. Finally, he lowered his hand and let the laugh spill out.

"Sorry," he said. "You can continue."

None of them did.

And although the hint of sadness could not be overlooked, with a smile like that, Soraru thought that Mafu was at the most beautiful he had been.