What Are We Searching For, Really?

9.

—12:41pm.

I shut the door behind me, feeling every part of my body shake violently. Can it seriously get any colder than this?

"December is fucking freezing," I muttered to absolutely no one at all, shuffling out of my snow boots.

"Yes, it is."

I almost dropped my shopping bag, stumbling over my woolly cat socks. "Oh, Mr. Takashiro. You just woke up?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck before rubbing his eyes. I set down my shopping bag, shaking off my down jacket and draping it around the wooden dining chair. Gently, I shook the snowflakes out of my dark locks of hair.

"What do you have there?" Mr. Takashiro asked, a curious look on his face.

"Your lunch." Biting my inner cheek, I hastily dragged out the takeaway box. "I hope you like bibimbap."

"Oh, kimbap? Is that korean pot rice or something?" He took the chair out and casually slid into it, taking the box into his hands.

"Uh...something like that Do you like it?"

He frowned and mused to himself for a moment. "Hate to break it to you, but no."

"Oh, great. This just makes things awkward now."

"Just kidding! I love this stuff," he said cheerily, opening the box and taking chopsticks out of my bag. "Your reaction was priceless."

"I didn't even have one," I mumbled under my breath, opening my own box. Anyhow, I couldn't help the smile growing on my face.

As we were eating, I kept glancing over at Mr. Takashiro across the table. I noticed how he was gripping the chopsticks a little too tightly and how difficult it was for him to swallow.

He also kept sipping at the tall glass of iced water I gave him, finishing it in less than five minutes. I tried to stifle my laughter because it was nice watching him try hard for something so small.

"You don't like this, do you?" I asked, finally letting out a laugh.

"H-hah. You got me," he stuttered, returning my laugh with his own rich one. He puffed out his cheeks, fanning at his face. "Oof. This is damn spicy."

"Ohh, so you can't take spicy stuff. Sorry, I eat it on a regular basis." I stood up. "You don't have to force yourself to eat it. I'll make you something else...from what I can find."

"No no no, you bought it for me. With your own money. I'll have to finish it."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Serious. Just chuck it, I don't mind that much."

"See, you didn't say mind at all. You said don't mind that much which means you do mind a bit. So let me finish it," he insisted stubbornly.

I exaggerated a wince. "I really don't want to see you suffering every time you eat something I buy you, sir."

"Trust me, I'll live. Unless you have any sweet drink in your fridge...?"

"Wait. I think I have some leftover strawberry smoothie I made yesterday," I said, diving behind the island and taking the bottle out of the fridge.

"Oh wow, no coke?"

Flustered, I put back the bottle. "I can find some coke if you really want it."

"Just kidding. I'll take the smoothie. I'm trying to be on a diet."

"Why?" I queried, confused as I poured out the drink into my dad's gray cup. I'm pretty sure dad wouldn't mind.

"I looked at my weight a few days ago." He covered his face, groaning. "I gained 7 kg ever since 3 weeks ago.