The Morning of the Grim Reaper and the Saint
Eventually, the Saint pulled away from me only after a long while had passed. Thanks to that, the bread that had been piping hot when I first took it out of subspace had gone completely cold.
...If I had known this would happen, I should have put it back inside the subspace.
I let out a small sigh and sliced off a piece, offering it to the Saint.
“It has cooled down, but it should still taste good.”
“...This looks incredibly delicious.”
The Saint murmured softly as she accepted the bread. Soon after, she took a bite with a quiet ahm, and both her cheeks puffed out.
“Sho gooood!”
Even though her bangs covered them, I could clearly see her eyes sparkling brightly. Watching her, I smiled faintly.
“That’s because it’s bread made by Hestia, the Goddess of the Hearth. Among all the gods I know, her cooking skills are the best.”
“...The goddess gave you food as a gift?”
The Saint stared straight at me as she asked. Her mouth was so full of bread that her words came out slightly muffled.
“Well, I suppose you could call it a gift. Or perhaps repayment. It was something I received after doing a favor for Lady Hestia. It’s been about five years now.”
“...It’s been five whole years since you received it?”
“Probably? ...Or maybe not. Was the item I received five years ago something else? Did this bread come from eight or nine years ago? When exactly did I get it?”
I murmured, searching through my memories. Lady Hestia had given me so many different foods that I was beginning to lose track of precisely when I had received each one.
...I think the most recent gift was yakgwa.
Lady Hestia, much like me, had a deep interest in human food. She would often buy whatever was trending in the human world and bring it to me. That large castella cake, for instance, had been popular at the time, and she later tried recreating it herself before giving it to me…
When exactly was that in vogue?
While I was lost in thought, my eyes met the Saint’s. She kept glancing back and forth between me and the bread, tilting her head in confusion.
“What’s the matter? Oh, is it stuck in your throat? Shall I take out something to drink?”
“...No, I was just amazed that bread from several years ago still tastes like it was freshly baked.”
Her eyes had been full of curiosity, but they suddenly widened in a fluster as she waved her hands dismissively.
“I-if this is something difficult for you to talk about…!”
“No, I can answer this.”
Still, there was always the chance I might accidentally reveal confidential information again. After calmly organizing my thoughts, I spoke slowly.
“Items created by gods do not break easily. They are infused with divine power.”
“Then… does this bread contain divine power as well?”
“Yes, that’s correct. And…”
I reached out with one arm and pulled a bottle of white milk from subspace. This too had been bought well over a year ago, but that didn’t matter. To be sure, I opened it and took a sip. As expected, the milk had not spoiled in the slightest.
“This milk was purchased over a year ago, yet it hasn’t gone bad at all.”
“...Um, is this milk also something sold by gods?”
“No. This is something I bought in the human world.”
A faint trace of puzzlement crossed the Saint’s face. Seeing her hesitate, clearly debating whether or not to ask, I added an explanation.
“The subspace I use to retrieve items is actually my own domain. It is a space where only my authority exists, so anything placed inside is unaffected by anything except death.”
The moment she heard my explanation, the Saint shot up from her seat.
“T-then if I went inside there, I could finally die…!”
“You were repelled earlier, weren’t you? It is absolutely impossible.”
“What if I tried to force my way in harder…”
“You would simply be thrown out even farther.”
The Saint hung her head, looking utterly crestfallen. The sight displeased me so much that I flicked her forehead with an audible thwack.
The Saint rubbed the spot with one hand and looked up in bewilderment.
“...Huh?”
“Could you please refrain from treating another person’s domain like a tool for euthanasia?”
“S-sorry…”
The Saint hunched her shoulders, looking thoroughly dejected. She seemed to want to apologize further; she pressed her lips tightly together and kept glancing at me hesitantly. Then she cautiously tapped my hand with a soft tap and gazed up at me.
“...I was wrong. I won’t do it again.”
“You truly must not. Please do not even entertain such thoughts in the future. That includes any ideas about wanting to die.”
The Saint flinched, her gaze slowly dropping downward. Not content with that, she suddenly began fidgeting with her fingers and pretending to be distracted.
“Eh?!”
Finding her behavior quite impertinent, I grabbed both of her cheeks and stretched them out as though lecturing a wayward soul.
...Huh. They’re much softer than her soul.
It was strangely entertaining to watch her cheeks stretch. I pulled them out, then squished them gently. A soft, plush texture spread across my fingertips.
This feels far better than her soul. And it’s warm, too…
The Saint made muffled noises with a wronged expression, but she offered no real resistance.
“Mmph…”
Instead, she simply left my hands on her cheeks and gently closed her eyes. It almost seemed like she was giving me permission to continue, but…
Still, I ought to stop tormenting her now.
“Repeat after me. Cherish life.”
“Wuv wive.”
“Please do not make such sounds come from a grim reaper’s mouth, all right?”
“...Mmm, wuv wive.”
When I finally released her cheeks, the Saint clutched them and stole a cautious glance at me. The sight was so amusing that I burst out laughing without meaning to.
“Hahaha!”
“...Eh?”
The Saint, who had been pouting with her lips pursed, widened her eyes and stared at me intently.
“...Sashin smiled.”
“Ah… I don’t think so?”
“You did. Just now, you smiled so brightly.”
The Saint whispered without once looking away from me. Her gaze grew increasingly intense, making it impossible for me to turn aside.
...Why does my throat suddenly feel so dry?
I awkwardly turned my head and took out a water bottle from subspace.
“It seems you must have been mistaken.”
“No. I saw it clearly. You smiled with such a gentle, radiant expression.”
At the Saint’s resolute tone, I fiddled pointlessly with the lid of the water bottle and mumbled.
“I told you, it was a mistake. And even if it happened, it would not be a big deal.”
“It is a big deal!”
The Saint cupped her own cheeks with both hands and beamed.
“When Sashin smiles, it makes me so happy.”
“...Th-that!”
I felt a rush of heat flood my face in an instant. My mouth opened and closed repeatedly until I finally covered my face with one hand and bowed my head.
“...Just eat your meal.”
“Can’t you smile for me one more time?”
At the Saint’s words, my entire body stiffened and I could not respond. After a brief silence, I barely managed to speak.
“No.”
“Why not? I want to see it again. ...Your smile, Sashin, was truly beautiful.”
The moment those words reached me, an overwhelming feeling surged up inside, and I gripped the water bottle with all my strength.
“Ah! Sashin, your sleeve got wet!”
“...Whose fault do you think that is?”
“Huh?”
She tilted her head as though she had no idea she was the cause of everything.
Somehow, I feel like I’m about to burst…
I considered pinching her cheeks again but lowered my hand. Instead, I sliced another piece of bread and placed it directly into the Saint’s mouth.
“Eat quickly. The bread has gotten even colder and stiffer than before.”
“Mmph ish goo.”
“I’m glad it tastes good. ...Oh, right. It might get stuck in your throat. Have some milk as well.”
The Saint’s face turned visibly red. Fidgeting restlessly, she accepted the milk I offered and hung her head deeply.
...Why is she acting like this all of a sudden?
Even the nape of her neck, barely visible, had flushed bright crimson. Could it be lactose intolerance… or whatever it was called? Was that the condition that turned someone red just from touching a milk carton?
No matter how much I thought about it, I could not figure out the reason, so I asked carefully.
“Saint, are you feeling unwell somewhere? ...Or perhaps you cannot drink milk.”
“N-no! I’m fine. Really!”
The Saint shook her head vigorously while clutching the milk tightly, as if startled. Yet her face remained scarlet.
Her voice is trembling, so she does not look fine at all…
I watched her with concern. In response, the Saint gripped the milk with both hands and lowered her head even further. Soon, a tiny voice emerged.
“I-it’s just… I’m a l-little… embarrassed…”
“...About what?”
When I gave her a puzzled look, the Saint hid her face even more and fidgeted helplessly.
“Saint?”
“...U-uuu.”
The Saint, who had been groaning in distress, suddenly lifted her head. Then she downed the milk in one swift gulp.
“I-I’m done eating!”
“...Ah, yes.”
“W-well then! ...I-I’ll be going now!”
“Yes. Take care.”
The Saint nodded and hurried away as if fleeing. I scratched my cheek while watching her retreating figure disappear down the corridor.
...What was that about? Could there be something wrong with the milk? Strange. It tasted perfectly normal when I drank it earlier.
I turned the empty milk carton over in my hands, but no problems were apparent.
“What exactly is the issue?”
No matter how much I pondered it, I could not understand. In the end, I set my worries aside and decided to tidy up the items I had laid out in the hallway.
I had the distinct feeling I was missing something important, but I could not begin to guess what it might be.
...Let’s just clean.
That haunted-house-like room, the kitchen, even my own domain. There was a mountain of cleaning to do.
It would be best to start with the shared spaces first.
After neatly organizing the hallway, I headed toward the kitchen.