Tofu Pilgrimage - 3

I could only stare blankly at Ryutis's back. He was rummaging through the shelves without the slightest attempt to hide what he was looking for.

So it really was there. I had thought he was just cleverly playing along with a terrible joke. But no. It was real.

Why does he even have that?

The fundamental question kept rising, unbidden. Why on earth would anyone keep something that hideous?

Truth be told, across both my lives — before and after possession — I had never even heard of tofu cake until my first detention. Rice cake, sure. Ice cream cake, fine. But tofu? Who would invent that?

And now a food I had never known existed was about to pass my lips three times in a single month. I had never eaten real cake that often.

"Um, Brother… in Armein, it's also considered a restorative dish."

Luise edged closer and whispered, as if trying to read something into my hollow expression.

I already knew. I had heard it during my last detention. Ryutis had explained it with such thorough kindness that I still remembered every word.

"I think Ryutis prepared it because he was worried about you…"

Even Luise seemed to find the situation awkward; her voice trailed off at the end.

Right. In the Armein Kingdom, tofu cake counted as a restorative. They often gave it as a gift to released prisoners.

I was a released prisoner, so accepting it was fine. Technically fine. But…

It just feels like teabagging.

If I had never received tofu cake during detention, I might have taken it as pure comfort.

But I had received it. In my mind, tofu cake was already branded as the symbol of teabagging. Ryutis knew that too — which was probably why he hadn't dared hand it over right away.

"Here it is."

Having finally unearthed the abomination, Ryutis approached.

Looking at it again.

The white tofu cake in his hands. Yet somehow it looked blacker and more sinister than any object I had ever seen.

Something felt incomplete, though. It hadn't looked like this last time.

Ah. No prisoner number written on it.

A final act of mercy, then.

I glanced at Ryutis's face and found him wearing an awkward smile.

Yeah. You must have agonized over this too. Writing the prisoner number on top would have felt like executing the confirmation kill.

"…Thanks."

After a long internal struggle, I accepted the tofu cake. The last round of teabagging had only happened because I got detained, and I had gotten detained because I slammed Ryutis into the ground. All of it was my own doing.

Honestly, if Erich hadn't called me over for no good reason, or if Ryutis hadn't stacked up karmic debt with that devil mouth of his, none of this would have happened. But still. My own doing. I decided to think of it that way.

"There's too much for one person. Let's share."

"Ah, yes."

Ryutis nodded obediently. The other club members, taking the cue, picked up their forks.

The third tofu cake I ate was unbearably soft. So this was the taste of a tofu cake soaked in tears.

Fuck.

A flavor I never wanted to experience again.

The moment club time ended, I headed straight for the principal's office. The principal would have been shocked by my detention as well. I owed him a face-to-face report of my return.

"Ah, Audit Department Chief."

The moment I stepped into the office, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠an awkward ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠exchange of looks settled between us, followed by a suffocating silence.

"You've been through a great deal."

It was the principal who broke the brief quiet. He seemed to have concluded that a short word of comfort was better than drawn-out fretting or inquiries after my health.

The right call. If even the principal had looked at me with a face full of worry, the burden would have been worse.

"You must have had a harder time than I did, Principal. I'm sorry for leaving my post so abruptly."

"It's quite all right. You gave me advance notice, so there were no problems."

The principal smiled faintly, and I returned an awkward smile of my own.

I had, in fact, given him a heads-up after the Red Wave suppression. That some cleanup remained and I would need to step away for a while.

I just hadn't expected that "cleanup" to mean detention.

"I know perfectly well how much you devote yourself to the Academy and to the Empire. So please don't take it too much to heart."

"I'm grateful for your words."

His warmth only made me more self-conscious.

The principal would simply think I had been detained because of an unfortunate accident while protecting the Academy. As the Academy's head, gratitude and comfort were the only response available to him.

He wasn't entirely wrong. An unfortunate accident had, in fact, erupted while I was defending the Academy from the Red Wave.

Unfortunate only for me, though.

Tragedy from a distance, comedy up close.

If the principal ever learned the details of that "unfortunate accident," how would he react? He might laugh. Or he might simply be left speechless…

Either way, it would hurt just the same.

I paced the room, casting sidelong glances at the communication orb. More than once I picked it up and fretted over it, half-convinced it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠must be broken.

Each time, I only confirmed that the orb was perfectly fine. Built by the Magic Tower — sturdy stuff.

"Nia. You're fretting too much."

Laura frowned at my behavior and spoke.

"……"

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"It's nothing. Nothing at all."

When I stared pointedly at Laura's legs, she snapped back, flustered.

For some time now her legs had been shaking as if an earthquake were rolling through them. Who exactly was fretting, I wondered.

Still, I understood. This was Laura, who had raised Karl and Erich in place of a mother who had been no mother at all. Who had cared for Karl like her own child after the hollow loss of her own.

"…It's today, right?"

"It is."

Even Laura could no longer bear the waiting; anxiety had crept into her voice.

Today was the day. Erich had said so clearly.

"Still, maybe we should at least go visit…"

That conversation with Erich, three days ago.

Every instinct had screamed at me to run to Karl at once, but Erich's restraint was the only thing that held me back.

I could not simply sit still knowing my precious son was in a cold prison. Yet hearing that the son himself was exhausted made me hesitate. What if my selfish longing only became a nuisance to him?

So I waited, just as Erich said. Released today. He would contact us first. I believed it and I waited.

I've been waiting since morning.

With trembling hands I touched the communication orb again.

Today I had carried it with me while washing, while eating, while working.

"I'm sorry, Brother. What were you saying?"

Even while speaking with other people, I had been anxious that Karl might call in the gap between one sentence and the next.

And as if to mock that anxiety, no call had come at all.

"Should we have gone to visit after all…?"

"You can't even stand up, and you think you could have gone?"

Laura's blunt words made my face burn. Truthfully, even if Karl had wanted a visit, I was in no condition to make the trip.

When Erich had suddenly requested a teleportation mage, and when I learned the reason was to visit Karl in detention — the world in front of my eyes had gone black.

"Are you awake?"

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in bed.

"Laura…? Why am I here…"

"You fainted. For six hours."

For a long while after that, strength refused to return to my body; I could only lie there. It was bad enough that Billy came home early from the Assembly.

If I had gone to visit in that state, I would only have worried Karl. Or rather, as Laura said, I wouldn't have managed to go at all.

With that bitter thought, I kept fretting over the communication orb. As if touching it would make the call arrive any sooner.

And in that very moment, as if it were a lie, the communication orb lit up.

…Does fretting actually work?

Now that the call had finally come, my mind went blank. What was I supposed to say? That he had worked hard? Was he all right? Why had he taken so long to call?

"Nia."

Laura's voice beside me snapped me back.

What was I doing? Even if the words tangled, I had to answer first. What if the connection dropped while I sat here frozen?

I hurriedly activated the orb, and Karl's face appeared.

"Karl."

Tears threatened to spill, so I clenched my fist tight.

His face has gone so thin.

He couldn't have eaten properly on prison food. At the age when he should still be growing — still just a child — forced into such a harsh place.

How hard it must have been for him. How frightened he must have been.

"…Are you… all right?"

At those words, the tears I had barely held back threatened to surge again. Such an obvious lie. There was no way he had been "doing well" in prison.

He must have been suffering himself, yet he was still considering this worthless mother. Why did such a good child have to be in prison?

But I could not bring myself to open my mouth. Any question would only tear open the chest of the son who was forcing himself to smile.

"It's all right. A call is more than enough."

I could not properly remember the conversation after that. Clenching my fists, biting my lips — I could barely hold myself together.

Still, Karl's expression hadn't looked bad, so I must not have said anything strange. That was enough.

At those words, Laura's face beside me brightened all at once.

"Yes, I'll be sure to pass it on, so don't you worry."

Billy would be glad, too, when he heard that Karl had asked after him.

I ended the call with Mother as quickly as I could. It was the kind of behavior that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠made me look like a flaming filial son, but I simply could not bear to look at her face any longer.

Just as I expected.

A sigh escaped me on its own. Of course. What mother would be fine after hearing her son had been locked up?

She had tried her best to hide it, but the body does not lie. Eyes strained with unnatural force. Reddened lids. Lips that trembled faintly.

…Better stop there. If I thought any further, I would evolve from flaming filial son into a charcoal-blackened one.

I should have called sooner.

Seeing Mother's condition, the triangle of priorities in my head started spinning again. Margeta, the club, the principal. I had been so busy filing return reports one after another that I never managed to contact Mother.

At least I had reached her within the day. Otherwise she might have stayed up all night.

And the next morning.

"The madam said she hopes you will wipe away all ill fortune and fill your days with nothing but good things."

A teleportation mage from the family politely offered me a box.

Inside sat a freshly made tofu dish, along with a carefully written handwritten letter.

Wow.

"…Please tell her I am truly grateful."

Wowww…