Cooking King Shota (1)
Eri had picked out a decent harem rom-com manga. It was a solid, by-the-book kind of story that even got an anime adaptation. She was leaning right up against my body, flipping through the pages. Honestly, there were way too many scenes that felt embarrassing to share with a girl—like panty flashes and all that.
"Watching from the side hurts my neck. It's uncomfortable."
That's when Eri dropped her sudden bombshell.
"If it's that uncomfortable, just don't buy it."
I shot back without thinking.
"Don't buy it...? Uhuhuhu! Shota, you're so mean!"
Eri burst out laughing at my response and smacked my arm playfully, pat-pat.
"This position seems more comfy."
And just like that, Eri went into full wild mode. She plopped right down onto my lap.
*Squish-!*
The soft, heavy sensation of Eri's butt pressed through to my lower body. Her subtly warm body heat and sweet fragrance made it impossible to focus on the manga at all. But the real problem was elsewhere.
My third leg was going full Super Hardening mode. Whatever was poking out had to be jabbing right into Eri's butt. And Eri definitely knew something was prodding her from below.
".........."
But she just stayed frozen in place.
No way... she's embarrassed too.
Eri's ears were bright red. Was it pride? Was her ego keeping her from getting off? We both stared silently at the manga without saying a word, but the pages weren't turning. Manga time was already a lost cause.
"Aah... let's call it quits. Just quit."
Eri chucked the manga onto the corner of the bed.
"If we're not reading anymore, get off."
I said to her.
"No way. This is my house now."
Eri fired back with some nonsense I couldn't even parse.
*Rub-rub-!*
And then, like she was putting on a show, she ground her butt against me. It was like she was finding the perfect spot on my lap. I couldn't dodge the stimulation surging straight to my lower half. My junk hit peak Super Hardening.
"Anyway, Shota. Got any dreams for the future?"
Eri switched to small talk.
"Hmm... Novelist."
I answered straight.
Sure, solving Emoshita's problems alongside the protagonist didn't mean Arikiri Shota's story ended there. Since I'd transmigrated, I'd be living in this world for good. Even if I got reborn, I wanted to be a writer. Web novels like back in my old world would be ideal.
"Ooh... unexpected."
Eri said, then spun around to face me.
This put us in full face-to-face position... No. Think pure thoughts. Getting bad ideas about a classmate would just lead to massive self-loathing.
"Kinda cool, maybe."
Eri said, her cheeks flushing a bit.
Hey. That smile's straight-up foul play. I nearly fell for it right there.
"Got anything you've written? Lemme see."
Eri glanced around the room.
"Nah, nothing yet. Planning to start today. But then this unexpected guest shows up."
I sighed.
"What?! Treating me like an intruder!"
Eri jabbed my side in retaliation.
"What about you, Eri? What's your dream?"
I tossed the ball back. Even if she was messing up my schedule, I didn't hold any grudge against her. Eri was a good girl, and I wanted to get closer. Plus, in the game, we were both background extras with zero screentime—that made her relatable. Fellow extras just clicked.
"Me...? Secret."
Eri grinned slyly.
"Hmph. Playing hard to get."
I chuckled.
"Picking all the mean words!!"
Eri poked my side again.
"But I've dropped plenty of hints already, y'know? You should be able to guess, Shota."
She giggled.
Now I was curious. When did she drop hints?
That's when Eri looked at me and said,
"Why not just write your novel here? You've got the laptop right there."
"Even so, with a guest here..."
Leaving her hanging felt kinda rude.
"I don't wanna be the girl who bugs you!"
Eri declared firmly.
Well... if she put it that way.
"Fine."
Today I'd knock out three chapters, no prologue. I'd roughed out the outline already. Should be quick.
I started to get up and head to the chair.
That's when Eri beat me to it, plopping down first.
What the—?
She spread her legs and patted the space in front of the chair, tap-tap.
"Sit in front of me."
"You're gonna mess with me."
"Not messing! You're so rude!!"
Eri yelled, looking pissed.
"I'm your human chair."
"Just think of me as the chair back and write."
Eri said in a sultry tone, running her hands over her body.
Of course, as a guy, I couldn't help it. My eyes locked onto Eri's ample chest. Yeah... it'd make a damn comfy backrest.
No. Pure thoughts. Pure thoughts.
I shook my head desperately.
"Alright."
Stammering here would just bruise her pride more. Some stubborn fire lit in me, and I sat back against Eri.
*Squish-!*
The plush sensation against my back was distracting, but I cleared my throat and fired up the laptop. I'd already picked the site to serialize on, created an account, and even snuck in settlement info without Mom knowing. Her permission? Let's call it handled. Reviving my elementary school days of covert gacha spending—physical and mental stealth mode activated. Settlement account was my piggy bank savings.
*Tap-tap-tap-!*
It had been ages since I'd written, so yeah, I felt a little hyped. Forgetting the Other Side and game plot entirely, I dove in. Went with a trendy isekai trend-rider. Safe bet.
Eri seemed to be peeking at the screen from behind, but I ignored it. If you feared eyes on your work, you couldn't be a writer.
How much time passed?
I stretched after scheduling three chapters for auto-post, no prologue.
"Phew..."
Pretty confident in it. Hope it earns some pocket money.
"........."
Eri behind me was weirdly quiet, so I got up to check on her.
Had she gotten bored and fallen asleep? That was my guess, but no.
"........."
Eri's face was flushed, her expression a bit dazed.
"Eri?"
Calling her name snapped her out of it.
"Ah... sorry. Zoned out for a sec."
She shook her head, cheeks still red.
"Sorry. Must've been boring, huh?"
I said to her. Dragging in a guest and then ignoring her to work wasn't polite.
"N-no, actually thanks... Never mind!"
Eri shook her head vigorously.
Something felt... off in the vibe.
That's when—
*Clatter-! Clatter-!*
A noise came from the kitchen.
"Ah!! Mom's cooking! I gotta go help!!"
Eri bolted to head downstairs.
"Huh? Yeah?!"
A bad feeling hit me, so I followed her down.
"Oh my. You could've just waited."
Down in the kitchen on the first floor, Mom was cooking.
"I'm great at cooking! Lemme help!"
Eri declared confidently.
"For real?"
I gave Eri a skeptical look.
Maybe a prejudice, but a girl with manicured nails and rings dangling off every finger didn't scream "chef" to me.
"Rude! Totally for real!!"
Eri got mad right away.
"Hmph. Even if I'm bad, I'd still beat Shota. You can just taste-test."
Eri tossed her hair.
*Snap-!*
That broke my last thread of reason.
"Aah... wasn't planning to cook here, but no choice now."
I flexed dramatically.
Eri, you touched my reverse scale. A huge, delicate one at that.
"Cooking showdown!!!"
I pointed at her.
Five years of solo living experience. I had real chops in the kitchen. Unlike fake independents always eating out, I cooked daily. Proud of it.
"Time to show you the power gap."
Couldn't be helped. Eri poked the forbidden.
"Uhahaha! Sounds fun! Bring it!!"
Eri glared back fiercely.
*Click.*
I pretended to snap a photo.
"Huh? Whatcha doing?"
Eri tilted her head.
"That smug grin's a once-in-a-lifetime sight. Gotta preserve it for the album. Feed value."
I smirked.
"Shota!! So cocky!!! Get ready!! For real!!"
Eri bellowed indignantly.
"Ufufu. Looks fun, my boy."
Mom chuckled at me.
And so, the cooking battle began. Mom as judge.
I scanned the kitchen. Jackpot—everything I needed was there. Years of experience kicked in; menu decided.
Fried rice... and yakisoba.
Guy food. Simple too.
Start with cabbage. Grabbed the kitchen knife.
"This cool, hefty feel... been too long."
Solo-life memories flooded back.
"Uhuhuhu! No cringey monologues next to me! Can't focus from laughing!"
Eri snickered beside me.
Shut it. Psychological warfare included.
*Chop-chop-chop-chop-!*
I shredded the washed cabbage like a whirlwind.
"...Not bad..."
Eri muttered, staring in surprise at my knife work.
Hah. Don't get shocked this early.
I ramped up the cooking.