Parfait Isn't Dinner
Was it Tier Snow? She's fighting like a beast. Honestly, that last move where she threw herself into the monster's embrace and jammed her staff in was pretty damn cool. This is kinda fun. Watching live beats videos any day—now I get why people shell out for baseball tickets despite the hassle.
"Mi-ir!"
While I was lost in admiring thoughts, Popo was yelling his lungs out behind me.
"What if you'd missed the timing! That girl burned all her magic power and was super weakened. It was the perfect chance to strike!"
He was pounding my shoulder with his cotton-candy paws like a flurry of weak punches. It didn't hurt, but it was annoying as hell.
"Too far away..."
What am I supposed to do about it? I peeked over the rooftop railing down below. High. Way too high. To get from here to that alley, I'd have to take the elevator down and cross two crosswalks. Popo was the one who suggested watching from a distance so we wouldn't get spotted. How the hell am I supposed to get there? Jump? I'd probably croak on impact.
"Just teleport! With Ker’s magic power, that's a piece of cake!"
"Teleport...?"
What the hell is that? How do you even do it?
"Ah."
Popo froze at my reaction, realizing something was seriously wrong. Well, yeah—even if magic power's overflowing like a waterfall, it doesn't matter if the owner doesn't know how to turn on the tap.
I stared blankly at the magical girl's retreating figure fading into the distance and muttered,
"...Popo."
"Y-yeah."
"Guess we gotta learn how to use magic power first."
"Yeah..."
The overeager cotton ball and the guy with zero ideas. Our first hunt ended in pathetic failure just like that.
*
"Alright, time to head down. Stick around here too long, and it won't be the magical girl coming—it'll be the cops."
"...Yeah."
We carefully made our way down from the rooftop and stood in front of the elevator to the first floor.
Ding-dong. Floor 24.
The doors slid open with a cheerful chime, and I stepped inside.
"..."
Was it lunchtime? The elevator was packed with office workers in shirts, all staring down at me. A cute white-haired girl in frilly clothes popping up out of nowhere in this drab office building elevator. I could feel their eyes twitching in real time at the weird combo.
Overwhelming pressure. Major social anxiety.
"Aw, kiddo. Here to visit your parents at work?"
"What floor? Want me to press it?"
The friendly voices from behind only cranked up the awkwardness. I wanted to snap that I'm not a kid, but I knew better—this body would just make it backfire. So I stayed dead silent, staring at the floor numbers.
There was a limit to how pathetic I could look. What the hell am I doing? Self-loathing hit hard.
Ugh.
Ding-dong. Floor 1.
Finally escaping to the open lobby and street, I let out a long sigh.
"Hoo..."
Office life sucks even in this body. Already wiped out.
"Popo, where should we practice?"
"Hmm, home's probably best, right? Least chance of getting caught."
Popo muttered while floating overhead.
"Yeah."
Back home it is. I turned toward the subway when—
Grrrowl...
My stomach announced mealtime loud and clear.
"Ah."
Come to think of it, I hadn't eaten since breakfast this morning. Not a single bite.
"...Popo, wanna grab food first?"
Popo's eyes lit up like he'd been waiting for it.
"Hehe, yes! My stomach's been glued to my back for ages! We click so well!"
"..."
Even that tiny body needs food, huh.
"Mir, why the stare? It's embarrassing..."
"Nah, nothing to see."
What misunderstanding is this?
"Hey! You're one to talk!"
"..."
Why did that piss me off? Like my male pride and girl pride both got scratched at once.
I pressed my puffed-up cheeks and scanned the restaurant strip.
"Anyway, whatcha wanna eat? Any place in mind?"
"I don't know human-world food well. Whatever you pick! Ahem!"
"Alright then..."
Not many options. Around here, my go-to treasures were everywhere. Zero-risk sure bets.
I strode ahead confidently.
"...Um, Mir."
"Yeah?"
"This place is a no-go, right...? The vibe's... off."
We'd arrived at a dingy seolleongtang joint. Even past peak lunch, salarymen with ID badges were lining up, glued to their phones—a legit hidden gem.
"Why?"
This place is fire. The broth's so spicy-rich, one slurp wipes out last night's booze and fatigue.
I tilted my head at Popo. He looked like he had a mountain of complaints, glancing between me and the shop.
"Ugh, Mir. I don't know humans well, but I get that you're... kinda unique..."
"Thanks."
"Not a compliment...?"
Popo clutched his tiny face with his paws.
"So, what'll it be? Sundae gukbap?"
Ah, he's small—might need a side plate.
"No, no no! You're seriously going in?"
"Duh."
Starving here. Popo seemed weirded out for some reason.
"No, but..."
Then he flailed his limbs and whined.
"This is total old-man taste!"
"What is."
"Look around, Mir! Everyone inside's sweaty dudes! That place with... ugh, it just doesn't fit!"
Popo gestured wildly at my outfit.
"Ugh, I figured you'd be at some sparkly cute café eating strawberry parfait or something..."
Ew.
"Popo. Listen up."
I fixed him with a dead-serious glare.
"Parfait's a snack. Not dinner."
"Well, true, but...!"
I grabbed the door handle, ignoring his protests. But he latched onto my bangs like a koala, forcing me to stop.
"No, seriously not! Please, Mir! Think of Ker’s dignity!"
"Dignity schminity, I'm hungry... How 'bout pork stir-fry? There's a killer place nearby."
"No!"
"Pork cutlet?"
"...No!"
Rejection after rejection. Every top office lunch pick got a world-ending grimace and headshake from Popo.
After endless compromise, we ended up at a generic franchise burger joint nearby.
"What's the difference... It's all familiar flavors anyway."
I grumbled, eyeing the clean interior through the glass.
"Huge difference, Mir! Vibe matters! This is me compromising big time!"
Who knows, but in Popo's head, burgers beat gukbap as proper meals. Food illiterate Popo. Fine, if he says so. Maybe the patty has secret magic-power recovery.
Inside, the familiar kiosk greeted me. What to get. Hmm, first—the premium hanwoo bulgogi burger. Oh, set meal too. Fries as seasoned...
"Mir, can you even finish that? Look at your stomach."
Popo fretted beside me, but I hit pay with confidence.
"Obviously."
Think I can't handle one burger? Worrywart.
Ding—fast food lived up to the name; the bell rang quick. I grabbed the heavy tray and claimed a corner seat.
On it: a burger the size of my head and a french fry mountain flexing hard.
"Popo?"
Gonna draw eyes if he just eats here. He scoped the room, then slinked tail-wagging into the fry bag.
"Don't worry! I'll snag 'em one by one from in here—no one'll know. Mmm, smells good...!"
Ignoring Popo's excited bag-muffles, I peeled the wrapper and hefted the burger. Been a while. This overflowing heft in one hand. Gonna be good.
I took a massive bite.
"...!"
Delicious. The hanwoo patty screamed big-corp money—pure bliss. Sweet-savory sauce, crisp lettuce. Cheese could've melted more, but finally, my empty gut from this rainy morning felt full. Portion was solid. Nah, almost too much?
Popo, scaring me for nothing. I smirked inwardly.
"Nom nom... This is insane! Humans eat this every day?"
Popo crunched fries from the bag in awe.
"That good too?"
Then—poke. Out popped his head, potato bits all over his mouth.
No need to say it. The bloat's gone.
"Tasty."
Plop—I tore off some bun bits for bag-Popo and chugged cola.
Passersby glanced at the window girl now and then, but burger time meant screw the stares. Eat up, home, practice magic power. Belly full = motivation rising.
Nom nom.
"..."
"..."
"Mir, didn't you say you could finish it all?"
"..."
"Then why's half left...?"
"Let's go."
What? Blame the soda.