Oregairu (Indonesia):Jilid 4 Bab 4
Bab 4: Tiba-tiba, Ebina Hina Memasuki Mode Mendakwah
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Kalau berbicara soal berkemah, kari segera muncul di pikiranku.
Itu wajar bahwa seseorang yang berimpian menjadi bapak rumah tangga akan mampu membuat satu atau dua jenis kari. Malah, tidak peduli apa yang coba mereka buat, masakannya akan jadi kari sebelum mereka menyadarinya. Sebenarnya, memasukkan saus kari akan mengubah segalanya menjadi kari, jadi itu tidak berlebihan untuk mengatakan bahwa semua masakan mengandung bahan kari. Kalau membicarakan soal kari Chiba, Sitar itu restoran yang cukup ternama, tapi di Desa Chiba, tentu saja, kamu harus memakai peralatan masak kemah. Dan juga, apa aku ada bilang bahwa makanan Sitar benar-benar lezat?
Tidak usah dibilang lagi bahwa makan siang hari ini adalah makanan pokok berkemah – kari.
Untuk memulainya, Hiratsuka-sensei menghidupkan api arang para guruTo start things off, Hiratsuka‐sensei was lighting the teachers’ fire on coals, which would serve as a model for the elementary schoolers.
“For starters, I’ll show you a demonstration.” No sooner did she say that than she started stacking up the coal. She had placed a firelighter and some dishevelled newspaper clippings below that. The moment she ignited the fire, the newspaper clippings burst into flames.
Just as I thought she’d shift the flame to the coals and fan it awhile with a paper fan, she seemed to decide that was too tedious for her and suddenly splashed salad oil over the fire.
All of a sudden a pillar of fire soared. Please don’t try this at home; it’s honestly dangerous.
Cheers and shrieks and bored mumbles arose. Yet an unperturbed Hiratsuka‐ sensei pulled out a cigarette from somewhere and held it in her mouth, a nihilistic grin on her face. With the cigarette sticking out of her mouth, she brought her face close to the fire and inhaled deeply.
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She moved her face away and let out a long, satisfied sigh. “That’s more or less how you do it.”
“You seem ridiculously used to this.” Her movements were quick and sharp, not to mention she had rushed to use the underhanded trick known as the salad oil.
With a somewhat faraway look in her eyes, Hiratsuka‐sensei explained. “Heh, I used to do this all the time when I did the barbeques for my university club. While I was lighting the fire, the couples would get all touchy feely.” She scowled. “Now I’m in a bad mood.”
Hiratsuka‐sensei recoiled from the fire as if it held bad memories for her.
“The boys will prepare the fires while the girls bring over the ingredients,” she said as walked away with the girls. Was some bitterness over her past slipping into her motive for splitting up the kids here? Was she all right?
Totsuka, Hayama, Tobe and I remained.
“Then shall we get the preparations done?”
Hayama and Tobe put on some cotton gloves and stacked the coal, while Totsuka prepared the firelighter and the newspaper.
…crap, I was off to a late start.
The preparations themselves progressed smoothly, and all that remained was the menial job of fanning the flames over and over.
I could hardly believe that in this situation I didn’t have the heart to sit around and do nothing. To be honest, I would have been fine with a “’kay, I’ll leave the rest to you” if it was just Hayama and Tobe, but I was afraid of what Totsuka might think of that, predictably enough.
Resignedly, I put on some cotton gloves, took the paper fan and ushered in the wind, the way they often did it with eels dipped and broiled in soy‐based sauce. Pata pata pata.
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“Looks hot…” Totsuka called out, sounding concerned for me.
“I guess…”
Plateaus are supposed to be cool, but it was still midsummer. Working right beside the fire caused the sweat to drip liberally off me.
“I’ll get some drinks for everyone,” Totsuka said as he left the place.
That prompted Tobe to follow him. “If you’re getting one for everyone, I’ll help out, yo.” Contrary to my expectations, he might be a nice guy. That or maybe it was chivalry, not wanting to make Totsuka carry heavy things with his slender arms. Ahem. Go forth and complete this task in my stead.
That just left me and Hayama.
“…”
Pata pata pata pata.
“…”
Pata pata pata pata.
I turned off my emotions and focused on nothing but fanning, free from obstructive thoughts. After a while, it became fun to watch the pitch black coals steadily become tinged with red.
Only, my eyes began to water from the heat in the fire and the sky. When I rubbed my eyes with my cotton gloves and lifted my face, my gaze met with Hayama’s. That meant that he had been looking at me. If Ebina we’re here, we’d be in trouble.
“…what?” I asked.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Hayama said evasively.
Silence.
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Without stopping my work, I glared in Hayama’s direction. That prompted Hayama to open his mouth and utter those slippery words again.
“Really, it’s nothing.”
It’s nothing, it’s nothing, he says. What was he – a broken record? I’ve never seen anyone who actually had nothing on their mind insist so much that it was nothing.
As I was performing the rather irritating action of glaring at Hayama every five seconds, Hayama shrugged and spoke up resignedly.
“…Hikitani‐kun, about Yu‐”
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Hachiman.” Totsuka pressed a chilled paper cup against my cheek, interrupting Hayama’s words. My heart jumped at the cold sensation.
When I looked up, Totsuka had a pure, innocent smile on his face, happy that he’d successfully pulled off his prank. He was panting a little as if he’d hurried back. His flushed cheeks were so adorable. If you exchanged his cuteness for heavenliness, that would bolster his angelic qualities even further.
My heart was pounding heavily as it usually did in these situations. I fought to contain my alarm. Eventually, I came to my senses and mustered a quiet murmur.
“Oh, thank youuuu.”
Since I was shaking so much, the last part of my voice extended a little. Tobe, who had been clutching a bunch of clear plastic bottles behind Totsuka, heard that and grimaced somewhat.
“…I’ll take over,” Hayama suggested, flashing a smile.
Since he was so nice and all, I took him up on his offer to switch places. I passed him the fan and took off my cotton gloves before taking the barley tea from Totsuka. “’kay, I’ll leave the rest to you.” I paused. “So what were you talking about before?”
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“I’ll tell you later.” Instead of being offended, Hayama smiled brightly and turned back to the fire. He started fanning. Pata pata.
Man, was I beat.
As I slurped my barley tea, I had my eyes on Hayama’s crouched back. I wondered what Hayama was trying to say to me earlier. Well, I could think of about two things. Still, I couldn’t figure out exactly what Hayama was about to ask.
I sat down on the sun‐baked bench and drank my tea, resting like a stereotypical senior citizen.
That was when the girls returned.
Noticing how the preparations for the fire were thoroughly under control, Miura let out a shout of delight. “Hayama, you’re the greatest!” she sang.
“Oh, you’re right. Hayato‐kun is the outdoors‐type!” Ebina chimed in with great admiration.
Then, the sideway glances were on me. Why’s Hikitani‐kun avoiding the work? I sensed the unspoken question keenly.
“Hikitani‐kun pretty much did all the work.”
Wow, what a casual interjection. Hayama really was a nice guy.
The problem was that Hayama’s interjection had produced a “Hayato’s so nice, always sticking up for others… teehee,” sort of vibe in the air.
Well, that’s how the world works, I guess.
“Hikki, you worked hard. Here you go.” Yuigahama, who had come back with Miura and the others, handed me a face‐washing paper towel. There was no trace of sarcasm in her voice.
“Ah, Hachiman, you really did work hard! Really, you did,” Totsuka insisted as he clenched his fists tightly against his chest. Come to think of it, it would only look like I was avoiding work if you had just walked in.
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“I could totally tell. Hikki, you’ve got this weird serious look in your eyes.” Yuigahama burst out laughing.
Behind her, Yukinoshita peered at my face. “Besides, you can tell by looking. Stop wiping your face with your gloves. It’s unseemly,” she said as if she had been watching me this whole time.
Ah, so I’d dirtied my face. Understanding now the purpose of Yuigahama’s face‐ washing towel, I helped myself to it gratefully.
“…thanks.”
Even as I uttered those words, I got the feeling they weren’t aimed at any particular person.
