Translator: Cryus
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The bell rings at the end of lecture, waking me up from my sleep.
The projector is already turned off, and the students around me are getting ready to leave. I open my notes and am impressed by the pictographs I drew.
Thatâs bad. I fell asleep, and I donât know anyone whoâs willing to lend me their notes.
I canât believe I fell asleep in a situation like this.
I blame the professorâs monotonic voice and prepare to leave, when someone grabs my arm.
ãWhoa!ã
I prepare myself to counterattack.
ãIâve been waiting!ã
Itâs an annoying voice, but one Iâm used to hearing. I relax myself.
I know who it is without looking.
ãDonât scare me like thatâ¦. What are you doing hereâ¦?ã
Mizuhara has dark circles under his eyes. He looks a little upset.
ãIâve been waiting for you! You were sleeping in class. What a waste of school fees.ã
ãâ¦â¦â¦How long have you been watchingâ¦? Also, werenât you supposed to be back tonight?ã
I ask him why he came back earlier than planned.
ãTheir snacks were awful!ã
So he says.
It wasnât a trip he was expecting.
He had jet lag from his 13 hour flight, and he took a walk from his hotel to buy some sweets, but the store he went to wasnât good.
After gathering more information, he went on a longer trip to counter his disappointment. After a few hours he finally reached his destination, but the pastries served there were insanely sweet. All of his excitement was gone.
The awards ceremony was boring, and at the party at night he was shocked by the guys he met laughing for no apparent reason. The only dessert he could enjoy was a few blocks of sugar.
The next day, he tried to regain his hope once again, and went to town looking for sweets and looking for souvenirs for the Underground Sweets.
He thought that Americansâ sense of taste was too different and hence didnât trust their reviews, instead relying on his own instincts.
He was wrong.
He assumed that his failure lay in choosing a snack that appealed to adults, so he picked a cake called âForest Siestaâ because it sounded gentle, and bought it to go.
When he opened it up at the hotel, he saw a cake that looked like it was made by a mountain witch. The taste lived up to its appearance.
Because of that, he had a nightmare and didnât get much sleep.
Unable to take any more, he took the first flight out of America.
His bad luck didnât end there. He ended up getting sandwiched by his neighbors on the flight.
The person in front of him made it worse by reclining his seat all the way back. He couldnât sleep at all, and came back to Japan just like that.
I feel sorry for Mizuhara, but his story makes me want to laugh.
ãI get it. You werenât satisfied with American sweetsâ¦â¦ but did you just come here straight from the airport?ã
I point at his huge suitcase.
ãIf I didnât, I wouldnât have made it for todayâs lecture.ã
ãYou couldâve sent me a message.ã
I state the obvious.
He always sends his requests by message.
ãSo, what are your plans today?ã
ãIâm free. â¦â¦â¦Iâll make you something, so why donât you get some sleep? At least get rid of those panda eyes.ã
Iâm surprised he can think about what snacks I should make despite his 13 hour flight, jet lag, lack of sleep, and the overall fatigue of the trip. He should be at his limits.
I take him to his place, offering to carry his luggage besides his suitcase. I notice a box thatâs specifically for souvenirs.
ãHuh? You have some tasty looking snacks.ã
What kind of American pastries is that? Iâm curious.
ãDonât touch it. Youâll die of disgust.ã
He takes it from me.
ãThen why did you buy itâ¦ã
Weâre heading to the elevator. The rumbling of Mizuharaâs suitcase is really attracting attention.
ãOh? Mizuhara-kun.ã
An elderly professor calls out to him. I think heâs a macroeconomics professor.
Mizuhara tries to hide his frown by adjusting his glasses, and keeps his head slightly lowered.
ãI didnât know you had returned already. How was the awards ceremony? There were many outstanding professors, so you must have spent your time well.ã
ãIt was certainly meaningful.ã
Itâs so monotonous that anyone could tell heâs lying.
I can tell that Mizuhara attends this professorâs lectures. Mizuhara offers him the pastries.
â¦Heâs going to die of disgust.
The professor submitted Mizuharaâs essay without consulting him, so Mizuhara was already angry. On top of that, he almost forced Mizuhara to attend the awards ceremony.
Those pastries are probably for revenge.
The professor invites Mizuhara to chat in the research lab, but Mizuhara turns him down.
ãI shall report to you another day.ã
Mizuhara ends the conversation abruptly, then takes his suitcase with his right hand, and tug my arm with his left. Weâre headed to the elevator again.
ãHey, watch it.ã
I tell him to be careful not to catch his leg on the suitcase and trip.
ãItâs light, so itâs fine.ã
I try holding it, and it really is lighter than it looks.
Heâs swinging it too much though.
I ask him whatâs in it, and he replies that itâs nothing.
Two thirds of the suitcase was supposed to be filled with sweets from America, but since he barely bought anything, itâs mostly empty.
He had some slight expectations, but since they were completely dashed, I change the topic.
ãWhat about souvenirs for Microwave and the others?ã
ãI bought parfait flavored toothpaste.ã
3 sets of travel sized parfait flavored toothpaste.
ãâ¦â¦â¦â¦ã
ãItâs really sweet and refreshing.ã
ãâ¦â¦Hmmâ¦â¦ã
I always pick mint for toothpaste, but the rainbow colored pack catches my eye.
The character on the packaging also looks weird. He looks like heâs too muscular because he drinks protein all day.
But Microwave and the others are fond of sweet things, so I think it may be a good choice. Mizuhara says that he has some for me too.
Well, I guess I can try a different flavor once in a while. He hands me an American sized toothpaste.
ãâ¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦â¦ã
Itâs huge!
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