All Beautiful Girls Want to Stick with Me

”Are you upset?” Izumi Kotomi asked.

Aimi nodded firmly, not needing words to convey her feelings to Kotomi.

Seeing her sister’s displeasure, Kotomi sighed softly and said, ”Even if you are upset, there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ll likely be spending most of my weekend in Tokyo.”

Even as the older sister, Kotomi knew she couldn’t always let Aimi have her way.

However, to be fair, compared to the little sisters in other anime, Aimi was already quite obedient and considerate—always looking out for her Onee-chan.

At least, unlike some sisters in anime and light novels who could be quite frustrating early on, Aimi, while showing occasional signs of being a bit of a ”little rebel,” was ultimately a very thoughtful, not-tsundere, and unspoiled good little sister.

Hearing Kotomi’s words, Aimi puffed out her cheeks slightly and said, ”Onee-chan, you’re working too hard. Do you really need to push yourself like this?”

”Tired? I don’t really feel that way,” Kotomi replied.

Maybe to Aimi, it seemed like Kotomi was always busy and tired, unable to properly rest even on weekends.

But Kotomi herself didn’t feel exhausted. She had always loved creating things, even in her past life. Now that she had the chance to turn her passion into a career, how could she possibly waste it?

Even though she was busy on weekends, Kotomi felt fulfilled. She was investing her time and effort and reaping the rewards through her creative work.

Whenever she thought about it, she didn’t feel tired at all.

Sometimes, it’s not the effort that’s exhausting, but the fear of putting in the time and energy without receiving the proper recognition or reward.

”If you don’t feel tired, Onee-chan, then I guess it’s okay. Just make sure to take care of yourself,” Aimi said as she gently squeezed Kotomi’s soft, delicate hand, marveling at how such small hands could type so quickly on a keyboard.

A tentacle monster... and it turns out it’s my Onee-chan!

As they walked into Anjima Yakiniku, the air was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of grilling meat and sizzling fat. The sound of meat hitting the grill, with its signature sizzle, was like an invisible hand, stirring up the hunger in their stomachs.

Even if you weren’t hungry, the sound alone could make you crave food.

For example, Kotomi had thought that after eating two yakisoba bread rolls at school, she wouldn’t be able to eat much at dinner. But yakiniku once again proved that no matter what or how much you ate beforehand, the sound and smell of grilling meat would make your hunger rise with the flames.

As two guests entered the restaurant, a black-haired girl in a deep blue cheongsam paused her work and approached them with a smile.

”Welcome! Is it just the two of you?” Sakura Adachi asked warmly.

Compared to her high school days when she was so aloof and cold that even the teachers mistook her for a delinquent, Sakura had become much more cheerful in the 13 years since she started living with and dating Hougetsu Shimamura. Her teal-green eyes seemed to always be quietly hoping that Shimamura would appear at any moment, even while working.

Her little ears twitched occasionally, as if she was eagerly waiting for Shimamura to call her name from behind.

A loyal dog... or perhaps Shimamura’s faithful Adachi-ken.

”Yes, just the two of us,” Kotomi replied first, and Sakura led them to a quieter table.

Though there was some noise in the restaurant, it was much quieter than before since fewer people had come for yakiniku tonight.

”One plate of pork belly, one plate of beef brisket... No, it’s too much trouble to order plate by plate. Let’s go with the extra-large meat platter. Onee-chan, you can order the rest. I’ll have oolong tea for my drink,” Aimi said simply as she ordered the extra-large meat platter and then handed the menu to Kotomi.

”Going for the platter, huh? You sure know how to make things easy,” Kotomi said, taking the menu.

”You’ve ordered most of the meat already, so I’ll just add a plate of beef liver, beef tongue, beef tripe, beef pancreas, beef sweetbread, beef heart, some cabbage and onions for wrapping the meat, and six pasteurized eggs. For the main dish, two bowls of rice, and I’ll have oolong tea with extra ice,” Kotomi added.

”Alright, let me confirm your order,” Sakura said as she jotted down the items, then repeated the order to make sure it was correct before taking the menu and walking away.

She soon returned with two glasses of iced water and wet towels.

”Onee-chan, do you like eating offal?” Aimi asked curiously, noticing that Kotomi had ordered mostly offal.

Kotomi always looked so happy when she was eating, as if it was the most joyous thing in the world.

Though Aimi found her foodie sister endearing, it also left her wondering what exactly Kotomi liked to eat the most.

Was it that she just loved all delicious food?

”Recently, I’ve been thinking about a short novel. I haven’t decided whether I’ll write it yet, but I wanted to try out some of the main character’s favorite foods,” Kotomi explained.

”What kind of novel would involve offal? Um... Onee-chan, you’re not planning to write a horror novel, are you?” Aimi asked, instinctively shrinking back a little. She was terrified of anything horror-related.

Whether it was novels, movies, comics, anime, or games, if it was scary, Aimi couldn’t handle it.

”Don’t worry, it’s not horror. I haven’t thought about writing horror stories yet. This idea is more of a romantic, light literature piece,” Kotomi reassured her.

”Romantic? Light literature? Have you thought of a title?”

”I Want to Eat Your Pancreas.”

”...Onee-chan, that sounds like a horror novel!”

”It’s not! I know the title might be a bit misleading, but I promise it’s going to be a heartwarming and emotional love story,” Kotomi said, waving her hand in assurance.

Heartwarming?

Emotional?

How come these perfectly good words suddenly sound off when they come out of Onee-chan’s mouth?

As they were talking, their iced oolong tea was brought to the table, followed by the meat platter that Aimi had ordered, along with the offal Kotomi requested, cabbage and onions for wrapping, pasteurized eggs, and two bowls of white rice.

As she began to think, Aimi couldn’t help but find it odd—why were the utensils at yakiniku restaurants always made of cold steel? The spoons, chopsticks, and rice bowls all had that slightly clinical look.

The beautifully arranged fresh meat on the platters looked expensive and delicious. The marbling on the meat was so vibrant and appetizing that it seemed like you could enjoy it just by looking at it, without even grilling.

”Enjoy your meal. If you need anything, just call me,” Sakura said after helping them get the grill started before stepping away.