Chapter 12

Being able to respond kindly to questions at any time is, I think, a difficult thing.

If you're a teacher and teaching is your job, then of course you’d respond with a smile. It’s work, after all.
But if it’s not your job, then that kind of response isn’t something just anyone can manage.

Once or twice, sure—anyone can do that.
But what if it’s ten times? Twenty? What if you're in a bad mood? What if it’s something you’ve already explained before?

I’m no different. Back when I was in the military in the other world, there were times when new recruits would come to me with questions.

At first, I really did try to be kind—as a senior soldier, I wanted to respond gently.
I didn’t have any seniors who ever answered my questions kindly, and that’s exactly why I thought I should be different.

But I’m sure I wasn’t a great senior. Maybe I was better than some, but I know I can’t say I was a good one.

There were times I snapped when asked something on a bad day.
There were times I shouted at a recruit for asking something I’d already explained.
I should have known that one explanation wasn’t always enough for someone to remember.

Of course, I had my reasons. The battlefield situation was dire. My superiors were giving me hell.
...But still, those reasons had nothing to do with the recruits I yelled at.

Yeah, I was probably a lousy senior.
Well, those same recruits did end up calling me a monster not long after, so I don’t feel too guilty about it now.

...Anyway, what I’m trying to say goes back to my original point.
Normally, being able to answer questions kindly no matter when or how many times you’re asked—that’s not something easily done.
Only in very specific cases is it even possible.

In my opinion, there are three such cases.

The first: the person teaching is just an incredibly good person.
That one’s straightforward. No need to explain.

The second: the teacher is in a position where they can’t go against the one asking.
Again, pretty self-explanatory.

And the third... is when the person teaching genuinely cares about the one asking.
Like how a mother doesn’t get mad when her child keeps asking questions.
It’s because they care. That’s why they don’t get angry. That’s what I think.

“It’s okay. Nothing’s broken. Just click OK and it’ll be fine.”

Shin said it with a smile.
That smile, and his words, brought genuine relief to my heart.

I’d honestly been worried.
If the computer had broken, there’s no way I could fix it, and I didn’t have the money to pay for a replacement.

And I know this computer is something important to Shin.
If I’d broken it, even he would’ve been angry.
Naturally, I don’t want to be yelled at.

“R-Really? That’s a relief…”

I let out a soft sigh of relief without meaning to. Even I was surprised by how relaxed and unguarded my voice sounded.
What was that just now?

…Ever since I realized Shin was looking at me with such kind eyes two weeks ago, something’s been off with me.
I’ve been letting my guard down more and more.

It wasn’t like this when I first arrived here.

It’s not good.
I’m someone who tricked Shin into letting me live in his house. I have no business getting comfortable here.
I should be keeping my guard up, making sure I never do anything that might undo the brainwashing.

…And yet, even though I know all that, I can’t stop myself.
What’s going on? I’m supposed to be able to control my emotions.

“…Haa.”

A small sigh escaped me.

When I looked up, Shin was a short distance away, lost in thought.

…Brainwashing, huh.

…When I asked my question earlier, Shin was smiling. He answered me kindly, with that usual gentle expression.

Come to think of it, he’s been like that this whole past two weeks.
Even when I asked him the same thing ten or twenty times in one day, even when I repeated myself over and over—he always answered with a smile.
It’s not even his job or anything.

That’s not something people can just do.

So why can he do it?
Probably because Shin sees me as a “close friend”… because he thinks I’m important.

…Because he’s brainwashed to think that way, he can do it.

“…Ugh.”

A sharp pain stabbed through my chest.

…No. That’s not what this is.

This isn’t guilt. Absolutely not guilt.

There’s no way I—someone who survived that hell—would feel something like guilt over this.
No way I’d feel anything like that toward Shin, someone who’s being used by me.
I threw away anything like a conscience a long time ago.

“…"

I glanced at Shin again.
He had that usual dumb, carefree smile as he stood there thinking about something.

A guy like that—how could I possibly feel guilty?

…Seriously.

Seriously, Shin is way too cheeky.
He’s supposed to be the one getting used by me.
People who are being used are supposed to feel trapped, stifled, angry. There’s no way they should be smiling.

And yet Shin, even though he’s the one being taken advantage of,
always has that dumb, cheerful face.
Always looks like he’s having fun.

…Even though he’s the one being used.
…He’s oddly kind.
…And weirdly quick to praise me.

“…"

I felt heat rising in my face and shook my head slightly.

R-Right. I need to get back to the computer.
That popup wasn’t a big deal, so I should keep going.

I turned back to the screen and grabbed the mouse.

“Yuu, hey—”

“Hmm? What is it?”

Just as I was settling into the chair, Shin called out to me.

When I turned around, he looked oddly surprised.

“What’s wrong?”

“N-No, it’s nothing.”

“Really?”

Looking flustered, Shin lowered his gaze and hurried off toward the kitchen.
…What was that about?

“…Hm?”

When I turned back to the screen, I noticed something odd—
Somehow, a recipe file had opened.

I must have accidentally clicked on it when I turned around earlier.

Cookies, cakes, pancakes, cream puffs.

A list of various dessert recipes filled the screen.

“…Desserts, huh.”

Come to think of it, I never thanked him for helping me with the computer.

Showing gratitude when someone helps you—it’s important in maintaining smooth relationships.
Even if the gesture itself is small, what matters is that you did something.

I don’t have money, so I can’t do anything extravagant.
That’s why making something from this list and giving it to him feels just right.

…For some reason, I could clearly picture Shin with that dumb smile of his, happily munching on cookies.

Yeah, I think this’ll be good.

I’ll do it soon.

And with that, I printed out the recipe using the method Shin had taught me.