Exciting and Thrilling Home Meeting
“What would you like to drink? For cold drinks, we have oolong tea and apple juice. For hot drinks, there’s tea, coffee, and cocoa.”
Surprisingly, our home has quite an extensive drink selection.
“Wow, that’s fancy. In that case, I’ll have apple juice.”
I opted for oolong tea. With snacks arranged on a tray, we began our meeting in the living room. I brought my laptop from my room and displayed the printed stack of project ideas I’d prepared.
“Did you really make all of this in just one night!?”
“Yeah. Back in the day, I could churn out dozens of proposals in one night. This time, I only managed ten. Sorry about that.”
Honestly, I’d been too exhausted lately and could only produce ten ideas. Each plan was about 1,000 words, totaling roughly 10,000 words. During my busier times, I could handle this volume. However, I wanted to hear everyone’s opinions and avoided locking into one direction too early. That’s why I kept these ideas flexible.
“That’s way too much!”
“Huh!?”
“What?”
Back in school, even filling a 400-character manuscript was torturous. Writing a 1,000- or 2,000-character book report could bring me to tears. But in the working world, you write so much that filling 400 characters becomes second nature.
Reports, meeting notes, business plans, thank-you letters—the administrative tasks of a CEO can be overwhelming. In large, publicly traded companies, someone else might handle those. But when stabilizing your own business, you do it all yourself. I found I was better suited to back-end support work than the creative side, often leaving the creative leadership to Katsuya, my vice president, while I focused on the admin grind.
“Still, it’s amazing how you can just come up with ideas like this. It’s definitely a talent.”
Katsuya used to say the same. He’d claim my strength was setting a clear direction for the experts to execute: “You handle the vision, and we’ll create the best product.”
But this time, it’s a school club, and I plan to actively participate in the creative process. It’s high school—I want to enjoy it. Even if the results aren’t perfect, we can refine them together.
“This is just a rough draft. Feel free to throw in your ideas.”
Among my strongest ideas were:
—A horror game where players must escape from a ghost-infested old school building.
—A quiz game with three NPCs giving hints, but one always lies. Players must choose the correct path repeatedly.
—A mystery visual novel centered around a werewolf theme: uncover hidden identities.
I aimed to minimize the need for custom artwork, relying on default assets or minimal new illustrations. I excluded standard RPG ideas because balancing stats and levels can be too complex, often leading to burnout.
Designing games gives you newfound respect for how polished major RPGs are. Starting with something overly ambitious often leads to failure. It’s better to build experience with simpler projects first.
Rika looked at me with admiration as I explained, making me a bit self-conscious. I quickly brushed it off and showed her videos of free game playthroughs for reference. My concepts were more about blending existing ideas and adding desired features than creating something entirely new.
“I think the quiz game sounds great.”
Rika’s choice matched one of my top picks. Perfect—we had a direction.
“Alright, let’s go with that.”
“Are you sure about deciding so quickly!?”
Smiling at her surprise, I reassured her, “Yeah. This is something we can manage, even with just the two of us. Instead of overthinking it, let’s dive in. Can I assign roles?”
“Of course!”
And with that, our two-person project officially began.
“I’ll handle setting up the game mechanics and designing the field. That requires software on the computer.”
“Got it.”
“Rika, I want you to expand on the puzzle elements and flesh out the characters based on this material. You don’t need a computer for this. Be creative, and don’t hesitate to tweak the initial plan. If you’re stuck, I’ll send you reference videos—they’ll help.”
“Thank you so much!”
Thus, our fun, unofficial club took its first steps.
The meeting went smoothly. After assigning roles, we watched a few reference videos. Playing games would’ve been ideal, but I hadn’t prepared for the variety Rika might choose.
Later, I planned to install some games on my laptop for hands-on experience. It’s always more effective than just watching.
“Misato will be home soon. Why don’t you stay for dinner, Rika?”
Kaede-san had a late meeting but was thrilled when I mentioned making curry doria.
“Thank you! You even made lunch for me earlier…”
“It’s no big deal.”
Rika’s family was busy, leaving her to handle most household chores. It’s impressive how well she balanced that with school. I’d invited her to this club partly because, in my first life, she’d been part of the “go-home club” like me. I still remembered her wistfully saying, “I wish we could’ve joined a club together.”
When I lived alone, I learned how deeply you appreciate food made by others.
“Can I help with anything?”
“It’s fine. I just need to make the white sauce. The rest is straightforward.”
Cooking doria was simple: rice, white sauce, curry, and cheese layered in a dish, baked for 20 minutes. As long as the sauce didn’t burn, it was foolproof.
Spotting a can of tuna in the pantry, I decided to use that too.
I tore up some lettuce and added broccoli for a salad. Paired with curry doria, it felt like a restaurant menu.
The kitchen smelled inviting, and I felt a sense of satisfaction. Adding a tablecloth might even make the setup feel like a café.
Rika stood behind me, curiously watching as I worked.
Honestly, I could’ve used some leftover nikujaga to make croquettes, but frying food was a hassle, so I decided against it this time. I’d save that challenge for another day.
“Your cooking skills are really impressive.”
I almost replied that in our dual-income household, the first person home cooked dinner—but stopped myself just in time. It would’ve sounded odd for a high schooler.
“I like watching cooking videos. I’ve been secretly practicing,” I said instead.
That wasn’t entirely true, but it was the best explanation I could come up with.
“Really? Sounds suspicious. Did you learn to cook in high school just to impress girls?”
“Th-that’s not it at all…”
I dodged the question with an awkward laugh. Somehow, lying about such things made me feel a little sad.
“Hmm, but it’s so like you, Senpai. Most high schoolers would pick up a guitar or something. Cooking isn’t exactly the usual choice unless you’re already close to someone. It feels more like a skill to keep a girlfriend than to attract one.”
Well, I had just ended a long relationship in my previous life. Maybe I was trying to impress Rika now.
“In that case, only family and you will benefit from my cooking, so it’s fine,” I joked.
We both laughed, sharing a moment of lightheartedness.
“It works perfectly on me, though,” Rika said softly, her expression turning serious.
For a moment, her words caught me off guard, and my heart skipped a beat.
If I confessed now, I felt sure she’d say yes. But something held me back.
“Pfft, I was joking! You looked so serious for a second there,” Rika added, breaking the tension with a laugh.
“Well, you looked serious too, Rika. That’s why I got flustered.”
Thankfully, I managed to regain my composure.
“Teasing you is so much fun, Senpai,” she said with a mischievous grin.
The dynamic of a high schooler teasing someone with a much older mindset was oddly amusing.
“Alright, as payback, I’m adding extra cheese to this.”
Back in high school, I never worried about things like heartburn, so bring on the cheese!
“Wow, that’s a lot of cheese!”
For Kaede-san’s portion, I decided to use less. I understood now why adults preferred moderation.
“It’s fine. We’re young, so we can handle it!”
Somehow, the excitement made cooking even more enjoyable. Pizza cheese was hard to finish quickly anyway, so using it generously felt satisfying.
After layering the ingredients, I placed the dish in the oven.
The scent of curry and melted cheese soon filled the kitchen, a rich and indulgent aroma.
“Wow, it smells amazing! I’m home! Oh, Rika-chan, you’re here. Welcome! Are you staying for dinner?”
Misato returned home, full of energy, and quickly started chatting with Rika. Their lively exchange was endearing—and, truthfully, a bit enviable.
Rika seized a quiet moment to lean toward me and whisper in my ear, “This almost feels like we’re newlyweds. It was fun.”
Her sweet voice and the faint scent of her shampoo wrapped around me.