Asking for a Date

The sounds of other people cooking make for excellent distraction.

Listen long enough and the thoughts melt away, leaving only a pleasantly vacant self behind. Not a bad feeling at all.

In a corner of the kitchen, Cream sat blankly, a refugee from the chaos. Amid the bustle of banquet preparations, she was the only one there, chewing listlessly on spinach.

She was scrubbing her mouth clean with the vegetable's distinctive bitterness. A cloud of fluffy white hair and a mouthful of greens — she looked for all the world like a little sheep.

Never eating that again. Never eating that again. Never eating that again.

It had tasted weird, too.

Just sweet.

Not particularly good.

She couldn't even remember it anymore—

She muttered the words over and over as she tore at the spinach, then felt around her own body.

"Ah…"

Regret settled over a face already full of resentment. In her rush to leave, she had forgotten to bring the puppy doll.

Once Cream formed an attachment, she could not bear to be parted from it. It was too precious, too dear — she simply could not endure it. Being away made her anxious.

The white puppy had been like that. So had her mother.

Especially the latter.

The one who held both Cream's love and her hatred in equal measure.

And yet the love had been greater, which was why Cream had chosen to remain in this desolate mansion.

The misanthropic girl was, in truth, a child overflowing with love. She had loved so much that she had crashed into the world and shattered, and so she had come to hate it.

Even so, the attachment already formed would not disappear. She was still smiling here in the mansion, playing the good child — solely for her birth mother.

Even the shabby treatment, even being regarded as a nuisance — she found it rather entertaining. If everything simply went smoothly, it would be boring. Better that the little rats put on a show for her.

She had roughly sketched out a plan.

The time was not yet ripe, so she had made no concrete preparations, but everything was only a matter of time.

…Or so I thought.

That tutor.

That tutor was the problem.

She had no idea what that insane man even was.

Why did he insist on involving himself? Why was he so desperate to leave Cream Holybell alone?

From the start it's been 'future funds this,' 'just bring your body that'… What even is he…

Don't tell me he actually looks at me that way—

The moment the thought crossed her mind, Cream narrowed her brow and chomped viciously on the spinach, as if the leaves in her mouth were a stand-in for the tutor himself.

Th-that's ridiculous. Even so, it can't be that. A p-p-proposal? No way. As a priest, he just saw a pitiful child and wants to play house. P-play house.

Right. That man was a clergyman.

No matter how many denominations there were, they were all people who fundamentally followed the saint's spirit of universal love.

Of course, thinking about it that way raised other odd points.

If he's a priest, shouldn't he be trying to stop me?

She had all but hinted that a witch was plotting something wicked, and he had asked to be included in the plan. Said he wanted to kick the barrel over himself.

She had thought it before, but he was a little — no, truly — insane. Not a normal person.

She had heard that people with strong divine power all had a few screws loose. Maybe that was it.

Or is everyone in his denomination completely mad?

The denomination he belonged to wanted a witch badly. Whether they meant to reform her and put her to some use, she couldn't say — but perhaps the tutor was one of the order's leaders.

Cream entertained the plausible theory and recalled the words he had spoken just earlier.

"When everything is over, you will come with me."

"With a refreshed heart, you and I will make a new beginning together."

"…"

A voice as bright and clear as birdsong in the forest.

As if a cool breeze had been blowing through it.

Her mouth kept tasting sweet.

Setting aside the order and the witch and all of it — simply remembering those words made it so.

She had eaten an armful of bitter vegetables, and yet that single drop of honey she had tasted earlier seemed to have erased everything else.

The more she turned it over, the more her heart stirred. Was it because she had heard that nonsense about living together, or because his expression had looked so terribly earnest?

Either way, it was an absurd story.

…Live together? Live together how.

Cream shut her mouth and sprang up from her seat. She slipped out of the mansion and slowly walked a circuit of the grounds.

A luxurious noble estate steeped in long history.

This place was Cream's destination.

The terminus.

The end of the road.

When the tracks run out, the train can go no farther.

Cream had no intention of going beyond this place.

She believed that was what her birth mother wanted.

Even though she had been abandoned long ago, she still would not let go of the hem of that skirt.

Or rather — perhaps she simply could not.

There had been good days with her. She remembered the hands that had soothed a child crying awake from nightmares.

It had been so, so sweet.

…I'm a bad child.

She was a bad child, and that was why her mother had left.

A child like this could not be happy. Did not deserve to be happy.

And yet that man who kept stirring her heart was, without a doubt, her greatest enemy.

In this mansion, Teacher is the most dangerous one.

The others only gave her certainty that she must take revenge. But that man alone poured expectation and hope into her, trying to pull Cream out of this place.

That was the most terrifying thing of all.

How could she not be afraid of someone who would turn her from a wicked, evil child into an ordinary, naive little fool?

The things he had described painted themselves unbidden in her mind.

A small, crooked house, because money was short.

And yet when she opened her eyes in the morning, egg toast with ham and a glass of milk would greet her warmly.

After her growth exercises, the bathroom would have warm water waiting. Soft pink foam would billow in the narrow tub.

And the teacher who had prepared it all would ask, with that same gently unchanging face, After lessons today, shall we go on a commission together? How does that sound, young lady?

That scene was truly, so very—

So very…

"…"

Cream immediately clutched her head.

Get out of my head. Stop invading.

Why did a being like him walk so casually, so easily, into someone else's heart?

This place was supposed to hold only resentment and hatred and wicked schemes. There was no room for cozy family games.

Please don't unravel me, Teacher.

The girl, her face crumpled, sent a plea that would never reach him, and walked alone toward the forest.

Early morning.

Andy sat at his desk, studying something intently. Lesson books were stacked around him, and among them, a single accessory gleamed.

The necklace that had somehow ended up in his pocket.

Looking at it, he summoned the familiar sensation of calling up a status window, and a description flickered into view.

Looking closely at the round, flat pendant ornament, he could see something like an intricate circuit engraved into it. Was that what allowed it to hide energy?

The overall design was dainty and delicate — clearly a woman's necklace at a glance. As if it were meant to be given to someone.

The peculiar description aside, it seemed he had received something good.

So it can give items as rewards, too.

He still had no idea how far the status window's authority extended.

The being Andy had originally called the "Author," he had decided to call the "Status Window" from now on. It was because of a hypothesis he had recently formed.

A world that existed somewhere beyond Earth.

The hypothesis that some being watching over it had brought Andy here to prevent its destruction.

The original novel had progressed more like an observation log than a work of fiction, and the method of salvation was far too cumbersome if this world were simply a novel or a game. If the Author could just rewrite the content directly, that would have been enough — but that was not what had happened.

Whether the hypothesis was right or wrong, he could not say. But since the being guided Andy through the status window, he would call it that.

Whether that being was this world's creator god, a passing traveler, or something else entirely, he had no idea.

Still, there was one thing he could know.

The status window wanted Andy to bring Cream to a perfect ending. For now, it seemed to be a being that desired Cream's happiness.

It had restarted a destroyed world and given Cream a penalty for it — but it had also given ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her a guide named Andy.

I still don't understand why it bothers ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to drive that 'guide' stake in so hard.

As if anyone didn't know that already.

Guide and protector was enough. What more could there be beyond that?

…Cream's protector.

Andy — officially recognized by the status window as Cream's protector, tutor, and father — shrugged his shoulders and thought it over.

What was a perfect ending, exactly?

If he lowered Cream's karma to zero and raised her morality and faith, would that bring them to a perfect ending?

Or was there some other route entirely?

But really… without overcomplicating it, isn't it enough if Cream is happy?

At least, that was how Andy saw it.

If she felt happy, if she felt glad to be alive in this world — wasn't that a happy ending?

Surrounded by people who supported her, precious friends, a trustworthy husband, smiling — that would be the perfect ending.

…Alright.

Well, that was still a long way off.

To get there, a tutor could only do what he could do right now.

Andy pocketed the pendant and stepped outside.

Come to think of it, he had not seen Cream's face since yesterday. He understood she had not attended the banquet celebrating the count's return, claiming she felt unwell.

He recalled the way she had left her room yesterday, on the verge of tears. Her face had gone bright red and she had trembled all over, as if tasting a single drop of blood had been some great outrage.

And yet her stress had gone down, so he still had no idea what was going on.

Even when I try to predict her, it's hard. Maybe because she's a child.

Thinking the same thing Cream had once thought about him, he was about to head up to the fifth floor when something caught his eye.

Looking down the stairs, he saw servants bustling about in the entrance hall. Each of them carried heavy loads out of the mansion.

Far too much to be simply moving the count's luggage.

Fortunately, Butler Albet was nearby, so he decided to ask.

"Butler."

"Ah, Teacher. Good morning."

"What are the servants doing right now?"

"These are the charity goods Young Lady Petunia has prepared."

"Charity?"

That young lady did charity work?

The same girl who treated Cream with such cold disdain, as if she were a nuisance.

"You know how it is. Every year-end, the local cathedral selects outstanding contributors, does it not?"

"Ah."

An outstanding contributor was exactly what it sounded like — someone who had devoted themselves to the cathedral's operations and the local community.

At year-end, on the Saint's Birthday when the most people gathered, the head priest would officially commend their contributions.

In this world, the cathedral's power was strong.

Corruption drifted through the air; monsters could appear at any time; and if a great rift opened within a region, disaster would begin that very day.

The cathedral was where such calamities were resolved through miracles granted by the gods, so its authority was inevitably great. Even high-ranking nobles could not treat senior clergy carelessly.

Earn the cathedral's recognition, and the residents' trust rose naturally as well.

Petunia was a young female heir.

She was no doubt trying various things to raise her standing.

Andy watched the servants hurrying about for a moment, then turned away.

"Young lady, it's Andy."

He went straight up to the fifth floor and knocked on the door.

And when he opened it — well now.

Cream was sitting on the bed wearing a mask, staring at him with a sullen look.

"Are you unwell?"

"…I thought it might be nice to catch rhinitis."

A strange thing to say. If she wanted to catch rhinitis, why wear a mask? People usually wore them to avoid pollen or dust — the very things that caused it.

"You're not actually sick, are you?"

"I'm not sick, so I'm fine."

Andy approached the listlessly speaking Cream.

"D-don't come too close."

"But I have something I'd like to give you."

"What is it…"

He drew the necklace from his coat.

The pendant said to hide the wearer's energy.

With this, purification commissions with Cream might go more smoothly.

A witch's blood.

A single drop was a deadly poison that made the air around it heavy.

If this could conceal that, it would be enormously helpful. He would need to test the limits, of course.

"Is that… a necklace?"

"A gift for you, young lady."

"Uh…"

"It has some kind of magic on it that can hide your energy. Would you like to try it on?"

"…"

"Just so you know, it doesn't have any strange curses on it. See? No problem even when I put it on myself."

"…"

As he tried it on himself and took another step closer, Cream, still seated, clutched the hem of her dress. Both small white hands, tight.

"Teacher…"

"Yes?"

"What have I even done to deserve… every time…"

She was muttering something, but Andy could not make it out well. She was wearing a mask, and her voice was small.

Then she lifted her head.

"Isn't there something you need, Teacher?"

"Something I need?"

"Yes. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Something you want, or whatever."

"If it's that sort of thing… right now, money and reputation, I suppose. And your trust? Your health? Your happiness?"

"N-not things like that."

Cream rushed over, took the necklace, and held it up for him to see.

"Like this. Something material that you can hold in your hands right now."

"Well. Aside from what I just mentioned, not particularly…"

It was such a sudden question that nothing much came to mind.

"Ugh!"

Apparently frustrated by that, Cream narrowed her brow and snatched Andy's hand. The moment she grabbed it, she startled at the warmth with a little hyak and shifted her grip to his sleeve instead.

And then she started tugging him along with little grunts of effort.

"Young lady?"

"W-we're going out."

"Young lady, I know you dislike me, but if you throw me out first thing in the morning—"

"That's not what I mean! I mean let's go out together today."

"Pardon?"

Cream thought.

She had received far too much ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from Andy. Looking back over their days together, all sorts of things came to mind.

Homemade snacks and a herbal dictionary, a storybook and a necklace.

Expectations and dizziness.

A sweet drop of blood.

Some of those she had not particularly wanted, but in any case, she could not remain in his debt.

She was going to drive this man out someday. If he refused to leave no matter what she did, she would have to resort to harsh measures to send him away.

In other words, he was someone who would leave eventually.

Fortunately, she still had money from receiving half the commission fee last time.

So this was a good opportunity to settle her debts in advance and earn some stamps.

"Th-the things you want, Teacher. I'll buy them all for you today."

If she bought him gifts, he would be happy, right?

He would stamp her praise card full of "well done" seals, right?

If she filled the stamp card completely, she could make a wish. She would be able to drive this enemy far, far away.

And more than anything — a tiny thought that had suddenly occurred to her.

…I'm always the one getting thrown off balance.

The hope that if she picked out a truly wonderful gift, she might rattle this man's insides in turn.

That the man who was always like a sturdy tree might show a side he never did — flustered, or embarrassed.

That the one who only ever shook other people's hearts might be shaken himself.

"So… would it be alright if we went out together?"

For Cream, that was all there was to it.