Rainy Cafe with the Saintess
Rain pattered steadily against the window. Was this a date?
"It's really pouring out there."
"Yeah."
The spot where the Saintess and I sat was a tiny cafe tucked inside the Academy.
It was in a remote corner, far from the usual foot traffic. The Saintess herself—the star of the day—had recommended her personal favorite haunt.
I had to wonder why anyone would open a place like this... but hey, none of my business.
The interior had a cozy, atmospheric vibe. Warm brown wood formed the base, softly illuminated by lights that added to the charm.
Still, it felt less modern and more... medieval? Fantasy? That kind of sensibility.
It felt strangely familiar to me.
It was around 1 p.m. now. Downing caffeine on an empty stomach didn't appeal...
"We haven't eaten lunch yet."
"Right, that's why we're here to eat."
...Here?
She meant dessert or something?
...Well, fine. Today was about accommodating my benefactor, who'd fixed up my body.
"What'll you have?"
"Hm... not really craving dessert."
"Ah..."
Her expression shifted to one of mild regret at my words.
I'd seen more of her facial expressions today than usual.
"This place is a cafe and a restaurant."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah. That's why I came here for lunch."
"Didn't know."
A shop this small handling everything under the sun. Or maybe that's exactly why—doing whatever it took to survive.
"The food here's pretty good."
"Oh... looking forward to it."
If even the Saintess, who'd tasted every delicacy under the sun, called it good...
"Looking forward, huh... Suit yourself."
"...Your response feels kinda off."
"What do you mean?"
"...Nothing."
Normally, you'd either hype it up or temper expectations. One or the other, right...?
I always thought this about her—she was so set in her ways. Impossible to pin down, even mid-conversation.
"Menu?"
"Yeah, thanks."
This was my first time here, completely blind. No clue what they served. Menu was a must.
It had a wide variety. Pretty much all the Western staples, plus a few Japanese dishes like omurice and curry rice.
"Decided?"
"Hm... no, the menu's way bigger than I thought."
"Right?"
She looked amused watching me deliberate.
"I've already picked mine, so~ hurry up."
"...Yeah, yeah."
Man, pushy much.
Still, now I was curious what she would order.
What would this prickly Saintess go for?
"Plenty of time for daydreaming, so you've picked already?"
"...Sorry."
Just once, stop reading my mind. Anyone. It's creepy.
Respect some privacy, please.
But thanks to that, I had decided.
"Okay, got it."
"O~? And after all that agonizing, what's your pick?"
"Omurice."
"Omu... rice?"
Two items caught my eye right away: omurice and aglio e olio.
I waffled a bit, but today I was craving rice.
Her expression changed again at my choice.
The lazy, smug look from when she'd rushed me was gone. Now it was flustered, subtly complex.
...Had I ever seen her this rattled?
"Fits you perfectly."
"What’s that supposed to mean...?"
"Just... it does."
Like when we first met and she said I reminded her of her crush. Seemed similar.
Her face was different, but the vibe felt the same.
I'd sensed it before... Projecting someone else onto me was messy for both sides.
"Anyway, now let's hear the great Saintess's order?"
As always in our chats.
If she'd teased me first, now it was my turn to tease back.
Playful jabs that didn't cross lines always lightened the mood.
"Ha, copying me now?"
She let out a light, incredulous laugh and shot back.
Her face reverted to that lazy, smug expression.
Yeah, this vibe suited us.
"Whatever—spill what our esteemed Saintess is having."
"I always get the curry rice here."
Oh, curry rice...
"...Kinda disappointing."
"Why?"
I mean, shouldn't a saintess go for something fancier?
Not curry rice—more like risotto, right?
"...Nah, on second thought, this suits you."
"...What? My mood's all weird now."
Should've behaved better then.
"Karma, Saintess."
"Heh..."
She laughed it off disbelievingly but ordered unfazed.
As a regular, she clearly knew the owner.
He was a middle-aged man, probably retired early to open the cafe.
"...Interesting."
Watching her with the owner revealed a warmth I'd never seen.
The refined poise and considerate tone I'd expected. Quiet smiles, attentive listening.
...Do that with me too.
Anyway, they chatted comfortably. Small talk ended, and he went to cook.
"You two close?"
"Yeah... kinda."
"Didn't feel like just a regular customer."
He'd treated her like a superior. Like a boss.
"Ah, the owner was a priest in our church before retiring."
Oh, that explained the vibe.
"Retired pretty young, though."
"Huh? Oh... not exactly."
Hm?
Don't priests work till late in life? Retiring even sounds odd for them.
"It's not something outsiders know, but our priests retire surprisingly early."
News to me.
"Most think church work is just healing people."
"But on the job, faith gets shaken sometimes."
...Yeah, makes sense.
"Like seeing death tolls rise despite your best efforts."
"Or watching the light fade from a child's pure eyes, helpless."
"Or war casualties, starvation... that kind of thing."
"That's when you wonder... does God even exist here?"
Shaken faith...
Not something you'd expect from the Saintess, the church's pillar.
"Doubt is... a massive poison."
"Once it creeps in, it colors everything."
I knew that. Whole groups crumble to it overnight.
"That's why our priests retire early."
"Most are too kind. Well... not all."
"But most are idiots who care more for others than themselves."
Idiots, huh...
...If only everyone were that idiotic.
"They worry their doubt might harm others."
"The more they fret, the bigger it grows... until they can't work."
"...That's why we retire them even when they could keep going."
"Such fools, right? Caring about others when they should just look out for themselves..."
What to say to that?
She seemed utterly calm. Gestures, expression—all composed.
Maybe the rain. Her eyes glistened.
Staring into those sparkling eyes, the perfect reply came.
At the table's edge, I pulled two white napkins, stacked them, and handed one over.
She took it carefully, folding it aside. A soft, grateful snort followed.
Then she tilted her head back slightly, squeezing her eyes shut tight before opening them.
"Food'll be out soon. Eat and head back."
"Weren't you gonna drag me around all day?"
"...Turns out I'm kinda busy."
What a... willful woman.
"Whatever... works for me."
"Yeah, lucky you."
With that, we savored the quiet.
Even as food arrived, little talk.
Just sharing bites silently.
Then we left quietly.
Rain still fell outside. One umbrella.
"Umbrella's a bit small, huh?"
"Nah... not that small."
Shoulders get a little wet, big deal.
As I opened it casually, she sidled up close in front of me.
My chest to her back, exactly a finger's width apart.
"We'll go back like this."
"...Gotta?"
Awkward to walk.
"All part of our~ deeply considerate Saintess's grand plan."
Her pre-cafe expression back, she pointed at my shoulder.
...Sigh.
"Fine... it's your day, Your Holiness."
At her command, we stayed nearly pressed together under the umbrella.
That close, all the way to the Dormitory.
Puddles dotted the path home. Clear ones, unmuddied.
Passing over them, our reflections appeared—mine and the Saintess's.
Our faces in the water looked eerily alike.
Broken expressions, like gears jammed in a machine.