My Seatmate is Apparently My Wife from My Past Life; She Still Loves Me in This Life as Well

“Here you go, brother. Please enjoy your meal.”

“Oh… Th-thank you.”

After my exchange with Kamidama and her return to the kitchen, some time passed. Just when I started feeling hungry, lunch was ready.

Aika brought me a one-plate meal with a rather tense expression. As I faced it, mixed emotions welled up inside me, causing a subtle sigh to escape as I clasped my hands together.

Freshly cooked white rice from this morning, tofu and wakame miso soup likely made just a moment ago, grilled salmon, grated daikon, and tamagoyaki. Additionally, a small plate of simmered Chikuzen was included, almost as an afterthought.

It looked delicious. If judged by appearance alone, it would score a perfect hundred. Although it seemed more like a proper breakfast than lunch, that’s subjective.

Aika probably considered this as a protest against my usual habit of quickly settling for a pastry for breakfast, which, in terms of cost-effectiveness, is quite good… despite my countless explanations, she simply doesn’t like it.

That’s fine. Siblings don’t always have to agree. Even family, when you boil it down, are still fundamentally other people. This kind of thinking might be my problem, but…

If Kamidama knew, she’d probably smile knowingly and say, “You’re still so twisted.” My imagination’s too vivid for its own good. Why Kamidama, of all people? Because there aren’t many others to compare with.

Feeling nervous, I returned my gaze to the lunch before me. Honestly, I wasn’t confident I could eat it. I hadn’t even taken a bite yet, but being presented with this formal setting made me hesitant.

The intense stares from the two were nerve-wracking. It would make anyone nervous. If I couldn’t eat it, the atmosphere would turn sour.

The more time passed, the more my anxiety grew. There was only one way to stop it.

…I had no choice. Time to brace myself.

I’ve managed to swallow Sanae’s food with determination before. The same resolve should get me through this.

Alright, here goes! Just as I reached for my chopsticks,

“Oh, brother, you’re hopeless.”

Aika’s trembling voice reached my ears. What?

Looking up, Aika, face bright red, was holding her chopsticks towards me, hands shaking. Clearly not as a weapon but to feed me. In other words,

“Say ‘ahh’.”

That’s what it meant. No way!

“…Wait, Aika. You’re mistaken.”

“No, I’m not. I heard that you’ve been fed like this before.”

“That’s a misunderstanding! Stop spreading everything around, Kamidama…!”

“I wanted to boast.”

“That’s not something to boast about…”

If anything, I should be the one boasting. Despite her quirks, Kamidama is a famous beauty at school.

Though Aika is no less beautiful… What’s she trying to compete with?

This might seem enviable, but it’s more nerve-wracking than pleasant.

“Well, I thought I could eat on my own, but…”

“Is it that uncomfortable for you if I feed you?”

“I thought it would be, but being fed by my sister isn’t so bad after all. We just decided to get along better, so it’s a good opportunity!”

“You’re so easy…”

Too noisy. I’m trying to convince myself here, so some quiet would be nice.

Even if it’s a bit forced, I have to push through. This is what being a “brother” means… I silently praised all the brothers out there.

Resigned to my fate, I took a bite of the food Aika offered, feeling a bit hesitant but finally accepting it.

In an instant, my body almost reflexively prepared to vomit.

My brain screamed, “This is wrong!” with a reaction I had grown accustomed to. But seeing Aika’s anxious face calmed me.

Chewing, I found the sweetly flavored salmon oddly nostalgic and surprisingly tasty.

“Hmm… It’s good. I can eat it—yeah, it’s fine. I was a bit worried, but it was needless.”

“R-really? You’re not lying, right, brother? If you’re just tolerating it, please tell me honestly. That would help me more.”

“Help you… It’s really fine. I’m not good at lying. It’s genuinely delicious.”

“Ehehe, I’m glad.”

Aika’s tense expression relaxed, revealing a youthful innocence not often seen in her anymore, which made me smile too.

“Still, the recipe is from your wife—me, that is!”

“Suddenly boasting, huh… Oh, come on, let me eat by myself! I can handle it!”