Omelette Rice-chan

Masao, 52 years old Masao loved omelet rice more than anything. Since he was a child, he ate it at least once a week. His mother used to make it for him. That’s why he had never eaten omelet rice at a restaurant— omelet rice was his mother’s flavor. But now that his mother had passed away, he often wondered what he should do. Ding-dong. Who could that be? Ding-dong, ding-dong. He opened the door. Standing there was… not a person. It was Omurice-chan. “Hello. You’ve been longing for omurice from the bottom of your heart, haven’t you? I came because I heard that wish.” “Now, take this spoon and eat me.” She handed him a spoon. “Ah… thank you.” Masao began eating Omurice-chan. “Ahh… it’s delicious.” “When you feel like eating omurice again, I’ll come back.” “Thank you.” From then on, Omurice-chan came almost every day. But that wasn’t what Masao wanted. He got tired of eating omurice every single day. Yet Omurice-chan still came. Ding-dong ding-dong ding-dong!! Bang bang bang!! Heavy knocks on the door. Clatter clatter. Someone was turning the doorknob. Thud! Something was dropped into the mail slot. The sounds stopped, so Masao went to check. Inside the mail slot was ketchup. Brrr— his phone vibrated. A LINE message. Somehow, Omurice-chan had been added as a friend without him noticing. “Hurry and eat.” That was all it said. As he tried to close LINE without replying— hurry and eat hurry and eat hurry and eat hurry and eat hurry and eat Message after message kept pouring in. Scared, he shut his phone off completely. He thought he heard a noise and turned around. No one was there. Or so he thought. On the table sat— an omelet rice. Size: height 67 mm