Our Life That Begins with a Convenient Relationship - Chapter 8

Once I started cleaning, which is something I enjoy, I didn’t really mind the muscle pain anymore. I suppose it’s because while my body is moving, my focus shifts to the rhythm of my hands rather than the pain.

With every movement, the cleaning bag rustled, and the plastic bottles rolling on the floor were cleared away one by one. That rhythm felt surprisingly good, and I found myself getting absorbed in the task.

Well, I can already tell that once I’m finished, the pain will come back twice as hard but I’ll just let her massage chair heal me completely later. It wouldn’t hurt to enjoy a luxury like that once in a while.

“I won’t throw away any work-related documents since I can’t tell what’s important, but I’m tossing everything else that is clearly trash. Got it?”

“Yes! I’ll leave it to you! I’ll do my best too!”

Sakura-san replied with unusual energy. Her spirit was impressive, but she was quite clumsy when it came to actually doing the work. This was already the third time I had to stop her from throwing empty bottles into the same bag as ones that still had liquid inside.

The difference in our skill levels was so vast that I couldn’t help but smile.

To think that this woman, who seems to have everything I lack, could show such a clumsy side. She was like a completely different person from the woman in a suit I usually saw at the izakaya.

As I continued cleaning efficiently, the bag was full in no time.

Even so, the room was only about one-third finished. At this rate, it would take another hour.

Out of curiosity, I peeked into the kitchen, and my eyebrows narrowed at the sight.

“…This is, in a way, more than I expected.”

There was only a single cup in the sink. I couldn’t even find a bottle of seasoning. It was like a display model with no sense of daily life; there was no sign that anyone had ever cooked here.

When I looked at the drain, there was almost no water buildup.

She probably doesn’t even use the water much, let alone cook.

“This kitchen looks like it would be great to cook in. I wonder if she never cooks at all.”

Even the kitchen in my tiny apartment is packed with knives and seasonings. For someone who makes meals every day, a kitchen this empty is unbelievable.

Still…

She has a large, impressive room in a high-rise (even if it’s on a lower floor) and pays generously at the izakaya. On the other hand, she has a mountain of convenience store trash here. The way she chooses to spend her money is so inconsistent.

Well, I don’t intend to judge how others live. Still, it’s actually impressive that she manages to get by like this.

I was thinking about that as I went back to the living room to tie up the bulging trash bag—when it happened.

“Hieee!”

Suddenly, a high-pitched scream rang out.

Before I could even think “Huh?”, I felt a warm impact against my back, and a bit of trash spilled out of the bag. I was hugged tightly from behind, and although I almost lost my balance, her thin arms were locked firmly around my waist, saving me.

“…Honestly, what was that all of a sudden? You’re getting in the way of the cleaning.”

“U-um, that! T-t-t…!”

“T?”

I wondered what kind of code she was speaking in—then, her trembling voice finally managed to continue.

“A r-r-roach…!”

“Oh, a cockroach?”

In this mess, it would be a miracle if they didn’t show up. They appear in my cheap apartment, too. It doesn’t matter how much you clean; they sneak in from somewhere the moment there’s a gap. When they appear, you just have to deal with them. I’m used to it by now.

“In a disaster like this, it’s not surprising to have a cockroach. It’s your fault for not tidying up.”

“Why are you so calm?! Also, please don’t say its name!”

I wasn’t sure what she meant… that was the first time I’d heard someone ask not to say the name. Maybe she believed in a superstition that calling it makes it appear.

More importantly…

Sakura-san’s arms were still wrapped around my waist, trembling and not letting go. I could feel her body heat through my clothes—it was quite ticklish.

“Hey, let go now. You’re in the way of me getting rid of it.”

“I-I can’t…! Please don’t abandon me!”

“If you don’t let go, I won’t be able to catch it, and it might fly toward us, you know?”

When I smiled and teased her a little, Sakura-san’s shoulders flinched. However, a moment later, she slowly and reluctantly let go of my waist.

“So? Where did you see it?”

“O-over there! It’s definitely still there!”

Sakura-san pointed toward the corner of the living room with a shaking finger while looking away. I looked in that direction and there it was.

A dark shadow was crawling slowly out of the gap between the wall and the shelf. It was a well-grown one. At that speed, it wouldn’t be able to escape easily.

“Alright…”

Luckily, a can of bug spray was lying nearby, so I sprayed it without hesitation. If that hadn’t been there, it would have been a pain to deal with.

After about ten seconds of it struggling and slowing down, it finally stopped breathing.

“There we go.”

I let out a breath and used some nearby trash to wrap it up, put it in a plastic bag, and tied it tight. Then I tossed it straight into the big trash bag.

Even for me, grabbing it with my bare hands is impossible. No matter how used to them I am, I’m not that brave.

“It’s over.”

When I turned around, for some reason… she was looking at me with sparkling eyes.

“S-so cool…!”

“Yes, yes. If you hate them that much, let this be a lesson to at least clean every day.”

I spoke with a bit of exasperation and went back to sorting the trash.

“…Yeah, Ms. Sakurai really is the only one for me.”

I heard a small voice behind me, so I stopped and looked back.

“Hm? Did you say something?”

“N-no! It’s nothing!”

After that, she took one deep breath as if to compose herself and I heard her mumble quietly but clearly.

“…Okay, I’ve decided. I’ll tell her later. I’ll definitely convince her.”

Those words melted into the air and just barely reached my ears. But I didn’t really understand what she meant.

“…What? Did another cockroach come out?”

“No! And please, I’m begging you, don’t say the name!”

“Fine, fine.”

I smiled to myself as I tied up another trash bag.

Lately, I feel like my hearing has been getting worse. Maybe it’s my age, or maybe it’s from working in a noisy izakaya every day.

I should go to an ear doctor on my next day off—I thought idly as I finished clearing away the bulging trash bags.