Chisato walked over and carried each of them to the bed one by one, but not a single one of them showed any sign of waking up.
Hitori, whether it was triggered by her subconscious or because she happened to be dreaming, instinctively wrapped her arms around Chisato when he picked her up.
She even pouted her lips as if asking for a kiss.
However, seeing the cream and cookie crumbs still around her mouth, Chisato had no mood for that.
Instead, he simply satisfied her with the back of his hand.
Nijika's bed wasn't particularly big, and it certainly didn't look like it could fit four people at the same time.
But with a slight change in perspective, having them sleep sideways worked just fine.
Either way, it was definitely more comfortable than sleeping on the floor.
Four people, four pairs of little feet dangling off the bed—it was an oddly amusing sight.
This would have to do for now. They could wake up on their own later.
Chisato turned and walked out of the room. Looking at the time, it was already past eleven.
The music festival was a two-day event. Although they had no scheduled performances for the second day, the original plan was still to go and watch.
After all, even if they weren't performing, it was a good opportunity to observe other performances and learn from them.
But looking at their current state, that plan was probably going down the drain.
Chisato headed to the kitchen. He had a solid grasp of cooking skills, his culinary level approaching that of a typical Japanese housewife—respectable, to say the least.
However, recently, due to living with Utaha and Eriri, he had been spoiled by these two girls, who looked like high schoolers but internally had already become little housewives.
Whether it was his daily life or his physical well-being, they had been taking care of him too well.
As a result, aside from simple tasks like frying an egg or boiling plain noodles, he hadn't properly cooked in quite a while.
Who would've thought that today would be the day he revisited that long-lost feeling?
Let's see what's left in the fridge. For now, I'll let them sleep a bit longer. If they're still not awake by the time lunch is ready, I'll have to wake them up.
Rolling up his sleeves, Chisato put on an apron with a supermarket advertisement printed on it and began washing the vegetables.
…
Something smells...
So good...
When Seika opened her eyes, the first thing she saw—besides her familiar bedroom ceiling—was a pair of chopsticks holding a piece of braised chicken.
The glistening piece of meat, coated with green onions and white sesame seeds, was still steaming.
The presentation was perfect. It was hard to imagine just how delicious it would be.
Gulp...
Saliva flooded her mouth. Since she had just woken up, she didn't even question the unusual scene before her.
She simply followed her primal instinct, opened her mouth, and slowly leaned in.
But the chopsticks moved away.
"You haven't brushed your teeth yet, Manager."
Then, a voice—both familiar and terrifying—sounded beside her.
Seika's alcohol-clouded mind snapped to attention. She jolted upright and turned to look beside her.
Chisato was pulling back the chopsticks from her lips, his cheeks puffed slightly as he chewed.
"Wait... why are you here!?"
"You all went silent the whole morning, so I came to check on you."
"Came to check... How did you get in?"
"The spare key under the potted plant."
"..."
"You all were sleeping so soundly that I didn't wake you. But now that lunch is ready, if you don't get up soon, it's going to get cold."
Chisato stood up.
"I'll go wake the others. Manager, go wash up first."
"Ah... oh, oh!"
Seika rubbed her still-groggy head, glanced at Chisato—who was wearing her apron—then at the prepared dishes on the dining table.
A strange feeling rose in her chest.
She shook her head vigorously, slapped her cheeks, and got up from the couch.
But as soon as she lifted the thin blanket, she noticed her bare legs.
Suddenly, she recalled how she had drunk herself to sleep last night without covering up.
Which meant... that uninvited guy...
He must have already...
Ugh!
Moving at lightning speed, Seika threw on a pair of pants and stumbled into the bathroom.
Waking up the rest of the band was a bit of a challenge.
Simply calling their names wasn't enough—it seemed that their first experience with alcohol had left them with quite the hangover.
A bit of shaking was necessary to rouse them from their slumber.
Chisato started with Ikuyo.
When she opened her eyes and saw him, her first reaction was to blush furiously and instinctively check her body.
Chisato's eyelid twitches. He felt like his integrity was being questioned.
If anything had really happened, you wouldn't be sitting here looking so composed.
"S-Suzumiya-kun? Why are you here?"
Ikuyo, with an extremely complex expression—somewhere between relief and disappointment—clutched her skirt while covering her chest and sat up on the bed.
"I'll answer that once for everyone after they wake up. Otherwise, I'll have to keep repeating myself."
"Haha, that makes sense."
"Your voice sounds a lot better now."
"Huh?"
"How are you feeling? It shouldn't be as bad as yesterday, right?"
"Ah, now that you mention it..."
Ikuyo touched her throat in surprise.
"It doesn't feel blocked or sore like yesterday... Just like Seika said, alcohol really does kill viruses!"
So last night, not only did their manager let loose, she even encouraged them to drink more.
Generally speaking, singers should avoid smoking and drinking to protect their voices.
But now wasn't the time for a lecture.
"Good to hear. I made a few spicy dishes today, so you should be able to enjoy them too. There's soup on the stove—I need to check on it. I'll leave the rest to you."
"Got it!"
Chisato turned and left the room.
"Having Suzumiya-kun home-cooked meal today..."
Ikuyo slowly raised her hands to cover her gradually reddening face.
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50 advanced chapters on p@t re on (.) com/SenatusTheta
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