“So, you picked up this walking stomach, huh?” Kumokari remarked, referring to Shiga, who had devoured most of the shop’s snacks.
Shuou thought Kumokari’s description couldn’t have been more accurate.
As night fell, the dim lamplight in the closed shop cast long shadows over the stack of plates Shiga had emptied.
“I’m sorry, I’ll definitely pay for this later,” Shuou apologized.
Kumokari waved his large hand across the counter. “I have no intention of squeezing money from the person who saved my life.”
Though Kumokari said this, Shuou wasn’t in the mood to accept his words at face value. If it had been just one or two servings, he might have taken advantage of his generosity, but Shiga had consumed two days’ worth of the shop’s ingredients.
“Thank you, just let me owe you for a little while,” Shuou insisted.
“Really, don’t worry about it,” Kumokari replied. “Though I might have you accompany me for restocking early tomorrow morning. But you haven’t changed, have you?”
They looked at each other and laughed.
The warm atmosphere between familiar faces, along with a comfortable distance, strongly reinforced the sense of friendship.
“So, what are you going to do with this Mr. Stomach?” Kumokari asked, poking at the sleeping Shiga.
“What should I do?” Shuou echoed.
Kumokari laughed. “You’re the one who picked him up, right?”
“He seemed appealing on the battlefield, but—” Shuou began.
“Now that you’re back in a peaceful world, that appeal has faded, huh?” Kumokari finished for him.
Shuou nodded magnanimously. “We’ve seen different things, have different ways of thinking. We don’t get along in conversation, and sometimes he looks like a talking bear or something.”
Kumokari smiled wryly, looking at Shiga. “You shouldn’t say such things. He’s still a noble, isn’t he?”
Shuou flicked the colored miracrystal on Shiga’s left hand and sighed deeply. “His language is rough, and he doesn’t look like a noble.”
“Oh my, his build might not show it, but his features are actually quite refined and elegant,” Kumokari countered.
“Elegant… really?” Shuou questioned, finding it hard to agree with Kumokari’s assessment as he watched Shiga create a puddle of drool in his sleep.
“To think that you, who was getting harassed by drunks not long ago, are now accompanied by a dark-skinned noble… You caused a ruckus in the neighboring country, saved Princess Adulelia, captured a castle on the battlefield, and received a medal directly from that bloodsucker Gwen… Hey, Shuou, are you really human?” Kumokari teased, counting off on her fingers as she recounted Shuou’s recent exploits.
Shuou shrugged playfully. “As you can see — but sorry, I wanted to show my face properly at least once.”
Kumokari waved his hand in a feminine gesture. “It just means you’ve been living such an intense life.”
“Has anyone else come by?” Shuou asked.
“Those silly girls have shown their faces a few times. Thanks to them, the shop’s gotten a reputation for catering to nobles,” Kumokari replied.
Shuou chuckled. It seemed that Aise and Shitori, two girls with contrasting personalities, were maintaining the connections from their journey.
“What about Jiro?” Shuou inquired.
“That frog is a traveler, so I have no idea where he’s gone since then. I thought about sending word to the old man, but I had no way to contact him. But you’ve met him, right?” Kumokari asked.
Shuou nodded. “Yeah, he helped me a lot after I was assigned to Ode.”
Kumokari furrowed his brows like a writhing snake. “That drunkard?”
Shuou affirmed, “Yes, but he doused me with alcohol again.” As he said this, stroking his hair, Kumokari burst out laughing.
“How are those two — Aise and Shitori — doing?” Shuou asked.
“Oh, you know. They show up and all they do is fight. I can’t tell if they get along or not,” Kumokari replied.
“They did have completely different personalities,” Shuou remarked.
“I don’t think that’s the only reason,” Kumokari said, his words carrying a somewhat deeper meaning.
“Is there something else?” Shuou probed.
Kumokari let his gaze wander upwards, then tilted his head and looked back at Shuou. “When do people fight?”
Confused by the vague question, Shuou tilted his head. The word ‘fight’ made him think of the war in Ode, which had started over territorial disputes.
“When they’re… competing for something?” Shuou ventured.
Kumokari nodded, seemingly satisfied. “That’s right. Especially when there’s only one of that thing to compete for, it can get out of hand.”
“I see… What are you getting at?” Shuou pressed.
“Oh, nothing. Just consider it idle chatter from a person with too much free time,” Kumokari dismissed.
Shuou, who had been tilting his head throughout the conversation, indicated that he somewhat understood and didn’t pursue the matter further.
“By the way, do you have a place to stay tonight?” Kumokari asked.
“Well, about that…” Shuou trailed off, scratching the back of his head.
“Oh, come on, don’t be so formal. If you don’t have a place, just say so. There’s a rest room in the back of the shop. Feel free to use it if you’d like,” Kumokari offered.
“Thank you, that’s really helpful,” Shuou said gratefully.
“But aren’t you a proper squire now? The military is so stingy, not even providing you with a place to sleep,” Kumokari remarked.
“They did offer to prepare barracks for me. But I declined,” Shuou explained.
“Oh? Why’s that?” Kumokari inquired.
Shuou pointed his thumb at Shiga and said, “I have an outsider with me, and also—”
His gaze wandered as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Seeing this, the perceptive Kumokari broke into a wide smile.
“That means you wanted to rely on me, right?” his teased.
Shuou averted his gaze from Kumokari, desperately trying to hide his embarrassment as he gave a silent affirmation.
“Hey, let’s drink tonight. I want to hear more, much more,” Kumokari said excitedly.
Her bouncy voice lit a vibrant flame of color in the quiet shop.
*
Shuou pondered the concept of daily life.
It was supposed to be peaceful, unchanging days.
If so, the past few days Shuou had spent could truly be called daily life.
Waking up without fearing for his life, eating prepared meals, engaging in monotonous work.
Spending calm and uneventful time that made the bloody days at the fortress seem like a lie, his mind and body were ruthlessly leaving behind those harsh days, immersing themselves in the present everyday life.
In the damp morning mist, Shuou stood before a tall, imposing gate.
After spending several days with Kumokari, Shuou had received orders from the First Army. He had accepted them promptly and set out for his new assignment, leaving the slumbering Shiga behind and arriving there alone.
He double-checked the map in his hand, confirming the location once more.
An old stone pillar beside the gate had the words “Gemstone Academy” carved into it.
In the pale white mist, a young girl stood there.
The girl, wearing a familiar light blue uniform, made eye contact with Shuou and bowed deeply. Even as she raised her face, Shuou couldn’t quite remember who she was.
Sensing Shuou’s confusion across the latticed gate, the girl spoke first.
“I’m Yuuhina Adulelia. Do you remember me? You saved my life,” she said, bowing once more.
Hearing the girl’s name, Shuou inadvertently let out a sound of recognition.
The girl, with a deep purple miracrystal glowing on the back of her hand, stood in front of an antiquated building that exuded an atmosphere like a ruin in a remote area.
On either side of the girl stood armed guards with stern faces, glaring at Shuou with scrutinizing gazes.
Looking at the scene before him, Shuou had an intuition.
Beyond this gate, the ordinary would transform into the extraordinary.
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