Shall We Eat Together?

"I found it, Grandma! It ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was right next to you the whole time. I think it was just hard ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to spot with so many people around."

"Oh my…! Thank you, dear."

Sugar came scampering over and pressed the wallet into the old woman's hands.

"I'm so grateful I don't know what to do. I haven't got a thing worth giving you…"

"Ehehe. Ahem. Hehe."

She giggled slyly and cleared her throat. I never asked for anything, you know. I didn't do it expecting a reward.

Of course, if you're offering, I'll take it.

Had that sentiment somehow reached the old woman?

"That's right—let me at least give you some money so you can buy a snack. There are so many stalls out because of the festival."

"Oh, you really don't have to! Though of course, if you insist, I'll gratefully accept…"

"Yes, yes."

And then she pulled out a coin—a whole 10 Til piece.

"Yahoo! Thank you so much!"

Sugar hopped at the fortune. Of course, it was only a large sum by a child's standards, but it was enough to buy something from a stall. To press money like this into the hands of two grimy kids she didn't even know—what a kind soul.

"Enjoy the festival, you two."

What a cute pair… Watching the old woman's hunched back as she shuffled slowly away, Sugar was overcome with emotion.

"Ugh… such a kind grandma… I knew my instincts were right."

"About what."

"Just look at her—she looks like the type who'd bake cookies for her grandkids the second she got home. I figured if I helped someone like that, I'd get something in return."

She flashed a V-sign, her smile equal parts childish and sly.

"Alright, let's buy something with this. Anything you want?"

"Not really…"

"Don't dodge it—just tell me. I want to cheer you up."

"What? My mood is… even if it were, why would you want to cheer me up in the first place."

"Because we're friends. You've looked like you've been having a hard time lately."

"…"

"Hm? So come on, just tell me."

It almost sounded like she was the one begging to be treated, but the meaning was the complete opposite. The offer to cheer him up, the way she said it—Ryly found himself at a loss for words.

She always came at him so familiarly. Crossing the line so casually, so shamelessly. He knew why she fussed over him like this. He hadn't at first—it had made no sense at all—but he understood now. He'd reached out a helping hand to Sugar when she wanted to stand against adversity, so she was doing the same for him. She treasured the precious knowledge of magic, the effort he'd put into teaching her, the kindness—I never did any of that?—and that was why.

At her core she was overflowing with affection; this was just her way of keeping her relationships warm. It got on his nerves sometimes, but as far as she was concerned, this was how she showed she cared.

He knew all that perfectly well.

Does she do this with the other kids too…?

Suddenly, a question rose about everything he'd experienced so far. Sugar had so many friends. Did she act like this with them, too? He knew she was on good terms with all the kids at the orphanage. She'd greet them over meals. Wave as she passed by. Occasionally get into a scrap if someone picked a fight. Then make up and greet them again.

That sociable girl had called him her "most trusted friend," but what did that even amount to? She'd never said anything like I only do this with you or I only do this with my most trusted friend, had she?

Meaning—trying this hard to cheer him up. Stroking his hair. Hugging him. Holding his hand. Blowing, blowing air into his ear. K-k-kissing him on the forehead. Th-th-th-the candy, the candy she'd been eating, putting the candy in his m—

"Haa… Tommy."

He snapped back to reality with a jolt.

"Let me give you some life advice… When someone offers to buy you something, turning them down like that actually hurts their feelings more. Hm? You don't have to stand on ceremony with me."

He'd just been replaying those, uh, heated moments with Sugar, but from her perspective it must have looked like he was agonizing over how to wriggle out of it. But he genuinely didn't want anything. Thinking about Sugar and her friends just now had left a tightness in his chest, and being surrounded by this many people only made it worse. So he answered halfheartedly.

"…Anything's fine."

"Hah?!"

The forbidden words. Sugar leaped as if he'd just uttered a terrifying curse.

"Hey, pal. How could you spit out something that terrifying…"

"What are you talking about…"

Watching his blank stare, Sugar clicked her tongue. This friend of hers would grow up someday, turn into a tall handsome guy, and get a girlfriend. He needed to know this.

"Honey~ where should we go eat?"

"Sure. Anything. Whatever you like is fi—"

"Ha! Always making me choose. I can't stand a man with no backbone!"

Disaster. Utterly terrifying. She sincerely hoped he'd never meet a woman that prickly—but you never knew, did you? Maybe she'd be pretty and a great cook and make good money, except for that one thing. People always had a flaw or two.

"Tommy… anyway, I just want you to be happy…"

"What are you even talking about…"

"I want you to meet a nice girl and live ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠happily ever after, all cozy together… and for that, you need to put in some effort too…"

Being good-looking wasn't everything. Sure, it seemed like that got you most of the way there, but married life was a whole different story. In the world Sugar had lived in her previous life, even those gorgeous celebrity couples got divorced like it was nothing. So it was time for some early education.

"Listen carefully. Someday you're going to grow up, get a girlfriend, and go on dates, right? When she asks what you want to eat and you say 'anything,' you'll look like you have no backbone, and she won't like that."

"You're worrying about the weirdest things… What if the food I pick is something she hates?"

"Then it's important to find a woman who'll go along with it…"

What was he supposed to do with that… Ryly stared at her like she was some kind of weirdo. A woman like that probably wouldn't care if he said "anything" in the first place.

She was playing at being a grown-up, but in the end this was the limit of someone who'd never dated. The conversation was going somewhere very strange.

"…I suppose it would also be good to figure out your girlfriend's favorite foods in advance?"

She quickly added that under her friend's dubious gaze. Now that she'd said it, she felt like a love expert. I might actually be a genius? If you want to win a woman's heart, call me.

She was a child who occasionally had the most ridiculous thoughts. A shame she hadn't been born a man, or so she seemed to think. Regardless of how Sugar actually behaved day to day, that was how she saw herself.

Anyway.

"Favorite foods…"

The young boy seemed to find that part reasonably worth considering, and he murmured it back to himself. Whenever he glanced at Sugar mid-mutter, she nodded back at him with complete confidence, as if to confirm it. Credibility was something you had to manufacture yourself. You had to project that kind of attitude. And so she'd flash a reliable smile—only to go slack-faced and goofy a second later.

"Haa… but this isn't the real thing anyway. Just pick whatever you actually want to eat. Don't overthink it."

She'd said it because, well, what was she even doing lecturing an eleven-year-old about this. Talking about this kind of thing between friends would only make things awkward. She felt like she'd put her foot in her mouth. He just needed to treat his future girlfriend well. That was all.

Whether he understood that sentiment or not, Ryly pointed at one of the stalls.

"Oh, you want ice cream?"

She wanted to applaud the excellent choice. Cold and sweet was the best thing in the world. She'd had an awakening once, shoveling parfait at a café. Ah, this is the truth, she'd thought. After that, she'd sung the praises of ice cream, pudding, parfait—every cold dessert under the sun—to Ryly more than a few times. She was looking at him fondly, thinking he must have been inspired by all that, when—

"…Hm?"

In other words, it was a food Sugar had mentioned she liked.

It would also be good to figure out your girlfriend's favorite foods in advance?

When she looked at Ryly, he quickly averted his eyes.

"…It's hot. It's really hot. Hot."

He added that even though nobody had asked.

"Hmm…"

Well, well. The corner of Sugar's mouth twitched. Excellent form. Already putting it into practice. If he kept this up, his future girlfriend would surely be delighted. He'd become a good man, meet a good woman who matched him, and live well.

For this wounded child, a warm family of his own would be the greatest happiness of all. Sugar sincerely wanted this friend of hers to be happy, and she always prayed for it. She couldn't stay by his side forever. She'd do everything a friend could do. They'd stay connected even after they grew up. But anything beyond that… well.

And so Sugar nodded in satisfaction at her friend, whose follow-through was a pleasure to behold.

"I'll give you credit for that. Well done."

"…I picked it because I actually want to eat it."

"Sure. Even better if you actually want it. Come on, let's go."

She led Ryly along, practically skipping with delight.

Unfortunately, however.

"Fifteen Til."

"Pardon? Not ten Til?"

"Fifteen Til. Do you have any idea how much the upkeep costs?"

"Huuuh…"

The stall owner was as cold as the goods he sold. Half again as expensive as the other stalls. At that price, there was no way to even ask for a discount. Sugar's shoulders slumped.

"Hey… forget it… let's get something else."

"But you went to the trouble of picking it…"

She glanced up at Ryly. He used to be the shorter one, but at some point he'd grown, and now there was just enough of a height difference that Sugar had to look up at him. She looked up at him apologetically, then rolled her eyes sideways to look away.

But then a gleam flickered in those eyes. As if she'd spotted something, they went wide. Those mysterious irises that shifted color depending on the light were on full display.

"Tommy… do you trust me…?"

"What?"

The words were directed at Ryly, but her gaze was somewhere else entirely. There was something off about that look. The way her eyes glittered, locked onto something—it didn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠feel quite right. Alarmed by the strange shift, Ryly followed her gaze—and found the cause.

He realized what was swirling in Sugar's eyes. Madness. The look of someone who'd lost their mind.

"You trust me, right?"

"No. Absolutely not. Let's just go buy something else."

"No. I have a duty to buy you ice cream."

"What duty. I don't even want it that badly… Don't waste the money for nothing. Let's go somewhere else."

"No. You thought about it and picked it. So we have to."

"I just picked it at random—"

"It's okay, Tommy… I believe in you, so you just have to believe in me. Just believe… if you just have faith, everything will be fine…"

The more calmly she spoke, the thicker the nonsense got. Watching her, an old memory surfaced. The slums where he'd once lived. That man who'd dumped every day's earnings into gambling, muttering this time, this time for sure—he'd had those same eyes, hadn't he.

If he left her like this, she was going to dump their entire fortune—10 Til—into that thing. A chill ran down his spine and he quickly tried to stop her. This was precious money.

"Hey…! Snap out of it! We don't need it! Don't do anything stupid!"

"I can do this…! If it's me! For you!"

But those madness-lit eyes wouldn't settle. Was it an excess of devotion to her friend, or did she just want to gamble. At this point, it was impossible to tell.

"Don't be ridiculous! Drop it!"

"Just watch me!!"

"You just want to do it yourself!!"

In that instant Sugar launched herself at the roulette stand. The force of her push-off cracked the brick path. Truly explosive mana. All Ryly could do was cover his eyes and sigh.

"This is good for one, right?"

"Yeah. That'll do it."

She handed over a little ticket, and the stall owner piled a mound of snow-white milk ice cream onto a cone.

"Oh…"

Sugar came back and flashed Ryly a thumbs-up. She puffed out her chest proudly, holding up the ice cream in one hand like a trophy.

"See? I told you to trust me."

As expected, she hadn't won the second prize. Instead, she'd gotten the fifth prize—a Street Stall Voucher (Single Use)—and with it, the snack she'd been after. Somehow, she'd actually pulled it off.

"Well? Amazing, right?"

"Amazing in several senses of the word…"

He scuffed at the crack in the ground with his foot, then looked at Sugar—who was thrusting the ice cream at him. He had no choice but to take it.

"…"

He took a bite, then immediately held it back out to Sugar.

"Why? Eat the rest."

"That's enough for me."

"Uh…"

A body like a white snowball, rough yet soft. A faintly sweet fragrance. A food that made your mouth water all on its own—but Sugar held firm and shook her head.

"No. I got this for you to eat, so you should finish it. Just forget all that stuff I said earlier about favorite foods… I really don't need any."

"Wipe your drool and then talk."

He held it right up to her face, just as she had done to him a moment ago, and she took it the same way.

"But…"

"It's fine."

She clutched it in both small hands and looked back and forth between the ice cream and Ryly. Uncharacteristically, she seemed completely at a loss. Was it okay to take this. He'd gotten it for his friend, so was it okay for her to eat it. She wanted to, but was that really all right.

Watching her fidget with that exact look on her face felt like he'd landed a solid hit. Ryly was feeling rather satisfied with himself when—

"Then… shall we share it?"

"…What?"