My Husband is Nanami Kento

11- Making a bento box

I was currently in the break room. I was seated at the table and munching on my muffin. I grabbed a blueberry muffin from the bakery near the station.

I was not alone. Nadia and Aster sat opposite me. Each one was busy with their lunch. Nadia had a bento box, while Aster was eating a sandwich from the company's cafeteria.

We had lots of pressure this week, trying to finalize the script for a book. It was a team effort.

We were silent, the air punctuated by our bites and chewing sounds.

Halfway through our meal, some energy returned, and we engaged in brief conversations.

"That's a pretty bento box you've got there, Nadia," I said.

"Thank you," she replied, "I made it myself."

"Really?"

"That's impressive!" Asterand, I exclaimed.

"I thought it was store-bought," I added in wonder.

Nadia's cheeks turned pink at the compliment, "It's just my hobby, nothing professional."

"You are selling yourself short," Aster rushed to interject, "if you sold those, you would be a successful businesswoman."

"Especially here at the company, many would love to have a home-cooked meal."

"Yeah, you could start small, then expand."

We chatted excitedly.

"Oh, you guys," Nadia sighed but with a smile on her face, "I don't want to monetize it, I like it as just a hobby."

"Yeah, you have a point," Aster said.

I nodded in agreement, "I would love to learn some skills, though. It's always been my dream to create a lovely bento box for work."

I often see Nanami grabbing a quick lunch from the convenience store and I'm worried about his health. I want to make a tasty and balanced bent box for him. He works hard, and having a lunch made with love was sure to give him energy and soothe some of the pressure on his shoulders.

Aster caught on quick, "For you or someone else?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

I was thrown off guard by her sudden question, and I struggled to form a coherent response, "...I. For me, of course."

"Are you sure?" Nadia drawled.

"Well, for me and someone else, I suppose," I admitted.

"Omg! Who? Who?" Aster said, her interest piqued.

"No one at the moment," I lied smoothly.

"Ugh, what a bummer," her fall fell, "our unit is so peaceful, we need some drama."

"I would rather not," Nadia said.

"Same," I said, "I like this the way they are."

A couple of days later, on a Sunday afternoon, Nadia had invited me and Aster to her house. We were having a cooking section. More precisely, Nadia was teaching us how to make the perfect bento box.

"I've prepared a simple menu," she was saying, "how good are your cooking skills?"

"I know how to make Noodles!" Aster exclaimed, lifting her hands proudly to answer.

"Instant noodles do not count," Nadia replied, her earlier skepticism proven.

"I would like to think I'm fairly good," I said, "I make sandwiches, eggs, and pasta sometimes."