My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As Expected

Page 658

"People who catch a cold in the summer...hehehe♪" (Note 21)

She seemed to have thought of something, but quickly swallowed her words halfway through, smiling happily. That smile was so meaningful that Yui looked puzzled.

"...Huh, what's that?"

"fine--"

"You definitely didn't finish your sentence!"

Yui came over from the kitchen and pressed her for answers, but the wife just said, "It's nothing—" and rolled around on the sofa, trying to get away. Then, the two of them started playing around on the sofa.

His wife lay down on the sofa, and Yui put her arm around her waist and leaned against her.

It looks so much like how Yui and her wife used to act cute together a long time ago, right after Yui recovered from a cold. I still remember it clearly. It was so adorable, so I took a picture. I also want to preserve as many little things as possible in our daily lives, which has resulted in an astonishing number of photo albums in the Yui family. Photography isn't my hobby, but I'm confident that I'm the person in the world who can take the cutest pictures of my wife and Yui.

Therefore, I felt increasingly regretful that I didn't get a picture of the fruit tart that Yui had worked so hard to make.

"It would be great if we could take a picture of that peach tower..."

"It's okay~ I remembered to take a picture~"

Really? Hooray! As expected of Yuihama's mother. As expected of Yuihama's mother! My wife beckoned to me, and I obediently walked to the sofa.

"Huh—you took a picture? It didn't turn out very well, I'll be embarrassed..."

The three of us sat side-by-side around my wife, our faces close together as we looked at our phones. Yui looked quite dissatisfied, but in the photos I saw, the fruit tart was beautifully decorated.

The tart crust appears to be a commercially available ready-made product. Cream cheese is piped evenly in a circle, and the amount of brightly colored fruit, including peaches, is deliberately controlled, presumably to avoid the fruit being too eye-catching, and they are carefully arranged together. The pectin is also glossy and shiny, like lip gloss.

"No, it's beautiful. Look, this part is very detailed..."

At that moment, I suddenly remembered the fruit tart I ate in early spring.

...No, wait a minute? The shape of the tart I'm eating seems even more distorted. Yes, it's like the fruit tart on the right, where the peach has fallen off, the cream cheese has undulating curves like a dry landscape garden, and the crust has chips along the edges.

Thinking back, the fruit tart I ate was decorated in an impressionistic style, with a very avant-garde shape. There was a bit too much glossy pectin, which made the texture strange. Simply put, I remember it was an attempt to create a strong handmade feel. Wait, what? Has my memory been altered? How terrifying… Could it be the Summer of the Ubume (Note 22) state…?

I trembled with fear when I saw something else trembling too. Upon closer inspection, it was Yui's finger. Yui's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she awkwardly shrank back, pointing to the ugly fruit tart I had just been looking at.

"...What I made wasn't that, it was this."

"Oh, I see! Wow, this one looks beautiful too, and it tastes amazing! ...So the other one was made by Mom to demonstrate?"

I tried my best to lie and asked about the fruit tart I had just praised so lavishly. Yui instantly stopped trembling. Her hand, which had been pointing at the phone screen, quickly reached for the bun on her head.

"Ah... uh, um, maybe, perhaps."

"Yes, yes, that's probably it..."

Yui fiddled with the bun on her head, turning her head to the other side, her movements so stiff that her neck seemed to creak. Her wife gently stroked the bun tied at the back of her head, smiling broadly. Because she was smiling so happily, her eyes were squinted, making them completely unreadable.

This reaction was clearly not something the wife would have done...

No, I noticed that a long time ago too!

Upon closer inspection, the colors are a bit too muted for her. If Yui had made it, the colors would be too vibrant, and the tower in the photo somehow feels pretentious.

Telling a designer with poor taste "I want to say that simplicity is the best" is nonsense, and they end up just copying your work. Simplicity is what truly needs aesthetics; I've said that countless times.

The fruit tart was rather elaborate overall, but it subtly revealed a twisted thought like "taking things too seriously is embarrassing..." It also conveyed a sense of pride and shame, or perhaps vanity, stemming from a feeling of "it's so shameful to embarrass myself..." It was clear the person was uncooperative and didn't know how to let loose and play freely. What is this? Is this the work of one of my young employees? Does this young man look down on his manager?

However, I've always been a pretty capable boss. Of course, I've long since learned how to handle situations like this. Our company's approach is to praise young people a lot so they can improve!

"Great job! This template is very well done! Amazing! You can tell the person who made it is gentle and meticulous! Dad likes this kind of thing!"

Although no one knows who did it, let's just rave about it for now, and Yui, who was gazing into the distance, slowly turns her face around.

People become more open-minded when praised. If the praise is excessive, they become humble and readily admit to minor mistakes. Heh heh heh, there's a reason I've survived workplace politics this long.

As I expected, Yui touched her bun and shyly began to tell her story.

"Y-yes...no, not really...it's less about being serious and more about being stubborn...but being gentle is definitely a good thing..."

"Yes, I can tell you were sincere when you made it, I think it's great, and Mom likes it too!"

"Is that so? Really... I think so. Hmm, the fruit colors aren't very appealing, they're rather unremarkable, but you can tell he put a lot of effort into it..."

"Yes, yes, yes! That's great! Who made it?"

Yui smiled shyly and said, and I smiled back, casually asking as if it were perfectly natural. Yui, who had been talking non-stop, suddenly fell silent, then stiffly turned her head away.

"Friends..."

I doubt--!!!!

Judging from this way of covering up, they're not just friends...

"Yeah, we're still friends."

As I hesitated about whether to delve deeper, my wife chuckled and uttered a statement that should not be ignored.

"Ah, it should be almost done baking!"

Yui's tone was so fake and unnatural. She got up from the sofa and fled to the kitchen. I completely missed my chance to ask her questions and could only stand there dumbfounded.

Not long after, Yui came back with a tray, clattering along.

"Come on, try some."

She handed me the freshly baked pie. Incredibly, although the shape was a bit rough, it had a strange sense of familiarity. It brought back so many memories… As I looked at it, I suddenly realized it looked a lot like the apple pie my wife used to make. It seemed Yui had adapted the recipe herself.

However, the aroma was slightly different. Upon closer inspection, the filling didn't seem to be apple either. The fruit underneath the pie crust looked very soft and crumbled from the cut surface.

What is this? I picked up a piece and enjoyed it. The crispy crust crumbled in my mouth, releasing the aroma of fresh peaches and a rich sweetness that then spread throughout my mouth. Oh, it's a peach pie. And just like my wife's recipe, it has rum in it.

"...Is it good?"

"It's delicious. Everything Yui makes is delicious."

I gave Yui a thumbs-up, responding to her uneasy gaze. However, this didn't seem to be the answer she wanted to hear, and Yui sighed deeply.

"No... I want to know if men can accept this taste."

"Hmm... this pie is delicious, I really like it, but Dad prefers a lighter flavor."

"Uh, I wasn't asking about Dad's preferences."

Yui dismissed the question with a wave of her hand.

Hmm—so cold again. A cold attitude. But newcomers more than twenty years younger than me have treated me like this before, so I'm used to it!

My wife probably felt sorry for me and tried to smooth things over with a wry smile.

"Hmm~ because Daddy isn't a sweet tooth~"

Haha, this kind of sweet life is enough! Look, my wife and daughter are so beautiful and cute, right? Let me tell you, isn't her cold tone when she thinks I'm annoying amazing, and her sweet tone when she calls me "Daddy" just so endearing? More importantly, after all that complaining, she still makes desserts for me and even asks for my opinion. Living a life like this, how can I possibly become a sweet tooth?

At that moment, Yui, who was deep in thought, suddenly looked up.

"I see... If it's not a dessert-oriented food, then it probably can't be used as a reference... In that case, we don't need Dad."

I was suddenly abandoned. Hmm... Dad has never been abandoned by a company before, so he's a little unsure how to react.

Ignoring my bewildered state, Yui rushed to the kitchen and returned with a plate.

"This is what I just made. It's not sweet... but I just made it for practice, so it's a little sweet."

She handed me cookies.

Star-shaped, heart-shaped, round, triangular, square—the shapes were varied, but they had no toppings or icing; they were extremely simple, thin cookies. I stared at the plate and Yui on the low table. Yui, probably shy, quickly sat back on the sofa and hid behind my wife.

She glanced at me through her wife and muttered:

"...I'll make it for you properly next time."

What? What did that child say? So cute!

"W-Is it okay? To make this for Dad? A homemade dessert that I specially adjusted the sweetness for Dad? To make it for Dad? Is it really okay?"

I was so moved that I couldn't help but cry out loud. Yui fiddled with her bun and turned her face away.

"There's nothing wrong with this... You can treat it as practice. Stop talking so much and eat."

She looked sullen, puffed out her cheeks, and changed the subject, rudely handing me the plate. I took it respectfully and immediately turned to look at my wife.

"Honey, do we have a shrine at home? No. We don't. Shall we make one? Now? And then put it on display?"

"A Buddhist altar should be fine too, but it might smell like incense."

"Okay, hurry up and eat."

Yui squinted at us, her tone tinged with impatience. Urged on by her, I hurriedly put the cookie in my mouth.

The moment I bit into it, the cookie crumbled, filling my mouth with a subtle sweetness. It melted in my mouth, and its low sweetness made me want to grab two or three more.

"Mmm, this is delicious. I like it."

I don't have a sweet tooth, but objectively speaking, these cookies are still quite delicious. Hearing my honest opinion, Yui breathed a sigh of relief and smiled.

"Looks like everything's fine. Here, have some pastries too."

Yui took a few cookies from the plate in front of me and gave them to the shortbread that was lying at my feet.

Hmm? Hmm? I looked at the cookie in my hand, then at the cookie that was jumping up and down and I was eating it with a smacking sound. They all looked the same.

"Huh... He gets the same treatment as Crispy... Does that mean Daddy... is loved by Yui just like Crispy...?"

"Dad's optimism is the best thing about him!"

My wife applauded me. Haha, right? I climbed to the manager position just by virtue of my ability to adapt to the atmosphere! That being said, I'm still a little worried.

"Is it okay to give this to the shortbread?"

"Of course! I checked online—it says cookies made with tofu dregs are very nutritious!"

My wife scrolled through her phone, showing me a website she'd been using as reference material. It clearly stated "Homemade Dog Biscuits." Hmm—the more I looked, the more it seemed to be mainly for dogs…

Well, this recipe is probably meant to be enjoyable for both people and dogs. Since that's the case, I shouldn't have any problems eating it. My wife and I ate with great relish, almost as if in competition, or rather, wolfing it down, while my wife smiled happily.

"Great! Now we can feed it to them!"

"Mom, Mom, you don't need to say anything about that..."

The wife put her hand on her cheek and smiled brightly, but Yui hurriedly stopped her.

Indeed, I absolutely love these cookies and shortbread. We can share them with other people too. My wife couldn't be more right.

But who is she planning to give it to...? Judging from her wife's tone and Yui's panicked look, it's clearly not me... She didn't even consider me! It's like a subordinate inviting someone out for drinks after get off work!

In such situations, managers generally have three ways of responding.

The first option is to pretend you didn't hear it. This is the most standard way to respond.

The second approach is to say something like, "You should drink in moderation, so it doesn't affect your work tomorrow," playing the role of a sensible older man. If you want to maintain a minimal level of interaction, this is the most appropriate choice.

The third type involves clearing your throat or talking to yourself to indicate you're listening, thinking, "Will they invite me too? I'm so nervous!" while waiting for an invitation. This is the worst. Regardless of whether your subordinates invite you or not, there's a high chance of a drinking contest ensuing: "The manager was so obvious..." "Yeah. He kept looking at us." "The drinks tasted worse when that person was around—" "If he could at least treat us, it wouldn't be a problem." "Taking money from an old man to chat with him, what kind of nightclub is this?"—becoming the topic of conversation during drinks. Then you can only convince yourself, "Being disliked by subordinates is part of a boss's job!"

However, don't underestimate me, Manager Yuihama.

"Great idea! How about going to the pet park? Dad can drive! We can also do some shopping at the mall on the way back! A soak in the hot springs on the way back would be nice too!"

Based on ample funding, highlight benefits that competitors shouldn't have! Deliberately raise your level of enthusiasm and speak with a touch of excitement to demonstrate approachability! Even if subordinates reject your invitation with a joke—"Uh, we didn't mean to invite you, Manager"—you can laugh it off and say, "Aha! Oh, they didn't want to invite me!"—to cover up your embarrassment. It's a high-level skill to gracefully navigate through such situations!

Alright, how was it? My dad's long-trained "hahaha uncle's proposal technique"... I observed Yui's reaction; her face was serious, and she was completely dumbfounded.

"Uh, I'm not going with Dad..."

Aha—! So you weren't going with Dad after all—! I laughed and slapped my forehead, but my wife grabbed my hand as I raised it. She pulled me close and whispered in my ear:

"Yeah, how could we interfere with someone's date?"

A sentence that cannot be ignored, accompanied by a sweet fragrance and sensual breath, enters your ears.

I was so shocked I couldn't utter a sound. I looked at her, asking, "What do you mean?!" My wife frowned, raised her index finger, and scolded me. Haha, isn't my wife too cute? So cute, she almost made me give her a perfunctory answer. So, what's a date like? What does it mean?

My mouth opened and closed, searching for an answer, my eyes darting left and right. Then I saw Yui squatting on the ground, touching a shortbread and muttering to herself.

"Desserts are really hard to make. I don't even know what kind of flavor is good."

Her expression could be interpreted as worry, enjoyment, or longing for a loved one; it was a faint smile.

Ah, I see. That was the only thought in my mind.

I thought it would evoke more emotions, and I was worried that I probably wouldn't be able to stay calm. But I had no intention of getting to the bottom of it, no intention of strongly opposing it from the beginning, no intention of beating up that guy I didn't know, and no intention of teasing her.

Seeing that sad, peaceful, happy, and gentle smile, I couldn't say a word.

—I see. You really, truly fell in love with someone.