45. Booze and Flowers
I gazed at the disaster unfolding before my eyes and thought to myself.
The nabe, the side dishes, the whole table—everything was soaked through with the sake Tyranno had spewed out, mixed with his spit. At least it didn't splatter too badly, so I could just wipe it up. But the real problem was something else entirely.
"Huuhe... heeeek... my tongue's sworn enemy... take this, yap yap!"
The culprit who'd ruined the table by vomiting up his sake was gripping his chopsticks like a dagger, battling the corn cheese again.
"Hieeek, don't flick my forehead... it huuuurts..."
And he even lost?! I had no idea what was going on, but Tyranno got a knuckle flick from the corn cheese with a spoon and hunched over, crouching down with his head tucked in.
"Kuh... kill meee... my heart may submit, but my body won't suuuubmit..."
This kid's been spouting nonsense lately. Maybe I should ban YouTube for a while.
"Aigoo, aigoo. That's why you don't chug a whole glass in one go. It's not water, you know."
I wiped the sake splattered across Tyranno's body with some tissues. Because of the flowers infused in the sake, a pleasant fragrance wafted up every time I dabbed at him. What kind of flower was it again? Mokoko or something like that.
"Ueeek... my face... stop touchinggg..."
I was just rubbing his face with tissue to clean off the sake, but apparently he didn't like it. Jeez. I should've stopped him when he poured a full fist-sized glass. I figured he'd sip a little, of course. Who knew he'd down it in one shot?
If I'd known it'd turn out like this, I would've let Tyranno drink whenever he wanted beforehand. He's legally an adult, but honestly, he's only adult in age—mentally, he's still a kid. His body grew up, but his brain stayed childish. That's why I banned alcohol, worried about the accidents he'd cause if I let him drink. But the second I lift the ban, he goes and causes one. Is this mess because the Doctor and I banned it, or did the ban at least prevent worse? Who knows.
"I'm thiiirsty... water..."
"Here, drink some water first."
I handed him the cup of water I'd poured, and he gulped it down nicely.
Who'd have thought one glass would get him this smashed? Even if he drank a full cup, most of it came back up, so he probably only got a sip or two down. To get totally wasted on a few sips of low-proof sake...
"Ooh... angels flying on the ceiling... loser angels♥ struggling with their loser wings♥"
"What're you even saying?"
I stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, but no angels in sight.
"Loser angels deserve to get shot down and deep-fried into crispy loser fritters♥ Take thiiiis, yap♥"
Tyranno hurled his chopsticks at the ceiling. They spun in the air before plopping right back onto his head.
"Nyaaat... ouch... the angel flicked my forehead... Lion, punish the angel..."
"What a mess this is."
He's properly drunk. Properly wasted.
Why does he turn into this? I shouldn't have given him the booze.
I'd deliberately gotten Tyranno drunk on purpose. Just kidding—don't misunderstand. I had zero plans to get him drinking today. We were just gonna eat, watch a movie, buy a phone on the way home... nothing special, I swear.
But the sake came out, and with me right there, I figured I could cover any mishaps. Plus, I was feeling generous toward Tyranno today. So I let him have some. Who could've predicted he'd get smashed into a puddle like this?
"Jeez. Who am I even explaining myself to?"
Excuses need an audience, right? Muttering to myself in an empty room—what's the point? The water's already spilled.
First things first: sober up this plastered Tyranno.
"Tyranno. Tyranno, snap out of it. You okay?"
"Nyaaak... Nobelpia server... total loser♥ hehehe total loser♥"
Tyranno stared into space with completely unfocused eyes, the mark of true inebriation. His cheeks flushed rose-petal pink, his pupils glazed with booze. And that sloppy drunk grin—pure, innocent, utterly clean. Not the kind that pissed you off, but the real deal.
...Ah, shit. Not now. Can't react right now.
"Here. Drink some water."
I filled a cup and handed it over.
"Nooo! Don't want water! Not drinking this loser water crap!"
He clamped his mouth shut like a fussy baby, shaking his head side to side. If he weren't drunk, I'd give him a knuckle flick. But you can't hit a drunk kid.
What now?
"Um... is everything okay in there?"
The noise must've drawn the server to the door.
"Oh, it's nothing. My companion's just a bit tipsy. Sorry for the worry."
"Yes... please be mindful, as it might disturb the other guests."
"Got it. Sorry. We'll keep it down."
The server left, but honestly, I had no clue how to handle Tyranno.
"Nyaaat... loser... scaredy-cat pussy-whipped to a door♥ poor loser kitty♥ loser loser♥"
"Pussy-whipped to a door? Oh."
The server's behind the door.
Did he mistake what I said to the server for talking to the door itself?
"Puhuhu♥ Loser kitty losing to inanimate objects now♥ Hng♥ I thought she was just a total breeding-reject loser shut-in loner bitch, but turns out she's a full-on breeding-reject loser shut-in loner living thing♥"
"Wait! Shh! Quiet! Be quiet!"
He's yelling so loud, everyone's outside hearing this! I pressed a finger to my lips, desperately shushing him, but Tyranno just grinned wider, more wickedly.
"Hnghung♥ So what if they hear♥ Gonna hit me♥ Hit meee♥ What're you gonna do about it♥ Whatcha gonna do♥ What're you gonna do Tyranno♥ Whatcha gonna do Tyranno♥"
Tyranno shook his head smugly, that provoking look on his face. Gotta shut this mouth first. Food can wait—quiet him down, no matter what.
Tyranno quiets down if you stuff something in his mouth.
Something to shove in there... Aha. Got it.
I scooped a big spoonful of corn cheese. It'd cooled to lukewarm, but a touch of magic heat fixed that. Perfectly warmed, steaming just right.
He'd thrown that fit just to eat this, so feeding it to him should calm him, right?
"Here, Tyranno, say ahhh. Corn cheese airplane coooming in, shwoooosh~"
The spoon swooped around. Tyranno's eyes followed it back and forth.
"Hey, loser cheese-con♥ Get in my mouth already♥"
"Shh! Shh! Quiet! No quiet, no plane~ shwoosh~"
The spoon pulled away, and Tyranno pouted, mouth shut.
"Now, ahhh~"
"Ahh~"
The corn cheese slipped perfectly into his small, cute mouth.
"Mmm... mmhmm... tasty..."
"Phew. Good."
Tyranno chewed away, finally quiet. I caught my breath—then the server knocked again.
"Excuse me. Sorry, but you're disturbing the other guests. Please keep it down."
"Yes, yes, sorry. It's all sorted now."
I'd just wrapped it up when Tyranno, mid-bite, shot up from his seat.
"Hey! Loser door!"
"Y-yes?"
"Youuu! Yeah! Don't talk smack to Lion, door!"
Oh god, not again!
"Tyranno! I'm fine! And that's not a door, it's a person!"
Tyranno ignored me completely.
"You! Even if loser kitty is a loser kitty, that's no excuse! A mere loser door! No, a loser-loser door worse than loser kitty, mocking Lion! Youuu, then I'll flick your forehead over and over!"
"Sir, you can't do this here."
"Hnghung♥ What're you gonna do loser♥ Whatcha gonna do loser♥ You can't mess with our loser kitty like that! Loser loser loser door that you are! Apologize! Apologize now!"
"Tyranno..."
It was sweet, him defending me with corn kernels flying from his mouth... but that's not a door...
In the end, we got kicked out of the restaurant.
The sun had set, and the streets had turned chilly. Tyranno, still flushed and unsteady, wobbled along.
"Hwaaaang! A mere loser-loser restaurant dares kick me out! I'll smash it to bits later!"
Whoosh whoosh—fists flying through the air. In his imagination, he was probably boxing that naughty door silly.
"Sigh... what can I even say."
All my fault. Shouldn't have given him the booze.
"Loser kitty too!"
Tyranno grabbed my sleeve, stopping us.
"Don't lose to loser-loser doors! When a loser picks a fight, hit back with 'What're you gonna do mekitty♥ Whatcha gonna do mekitty♥' Got it? I won't forgive loser kitty getting beat up!"
"Uh...?"
"C'mon, repeat after me: 'What're you gonna do Lion♥ Whatcha gonna do Lion♥'."
"Uh... uh..."
Do I have to? Middle of a crowded street—super embarrassing to repeat that.
He'd already yelled his "what're you gonna do mekitty" loud enough to draw stares. If I said "what're you gonna do Lion" now, I might not show my face tomorrow.
"C'mon, quick! Quiiiick!"
But he wouldn't budge without it. Shaking my sleeve like crazy. One word, or we'd be stuck here an hour, two hours.
No choice. Good thing I wore the perception-lowering necklace out. I muttered as quietly as possible.
"Wh-what're you gonna do Lion whatcha gonna do Lion..."
So embarrassing. My face feels like it's gonna explode.
Never thought I'd say that out loud in my life. How does Tyranno spout this stuff all the time? No mirror needed—I know my face is redder than a ripe persimmon.
"Heehee! Suits you! Next time someone messes with me, say that!"
But seeing Tyranno's beaming grin... well, I could manage it.
We walked on. Wobble left, wobble right. Tyranno, swaying like a reed, went quiet. Staring at the ground, trudging along.
He'd been chattering nonstop before. Guess the booze is really hitting now.
"You okay?"
"Uwuk... stomach feels bad... Kitty, my tummy's weird... some evil loser demon snuck in and's poking my guts with a pitchfork..."
Tyranno looked pale. Bad sign.
"Lion, my stomach huuurts... legs too... let's rest somewhere... yeah?"
"Eugh..."
That line, right here? Hearing it in his sweet, drunken voice sent a jolt straight through my brain, down my spine, shocking my ass.
Way more potent than expected. Especially from someone as cute as Tyranno.
"Legs huuurt... Hey Lion. Motels are for sleeping, right? Wanna crash there."
He pointed at a motel in the alley corner. No way our mesugaki has the smarts to seduce anyone. He thinks motels are purely for sleep. "Rest" means literally rest.
But even without realizing it—or because he doesn't—the words, every syllable, dripped seduction.
"Ugh, whatever. My feet hurt. Gonna rest here!"
Tyranno finally plopped into a convenience store chair. Limp as a soaked rag, refusing another step with every ounce of his will. Can't drag him.
"Fine, fine. Short break, then we go."
I hauled Tyranno into the motel. Dim lobby with dark red tones. Unmanned desk guided us to room 302.
Simple setup: big bed, some furniture, vanity with knick-knacks. Only weird thing: bathroom walled with frosted glass.
"Ungh."
I laid Tyranno on the bed and sat beside him.
"Hihi... bed's so comfy..."
"Hoo. Why'd you get so smashed? Why?"
One sip, and this? The "short rest" too...
...Is he seducing me?
"Nah. No way."
No. He's not. Our Tyranno lacks that brainpower.
I repeated it a dozen times, shook my head—but the thought lingered.
What if he is? What if booze is bringing out his true feelings, and I'm missing the signal like a eunuch? Crushing Tyranno's bold step forward, this golden chance?
Motel. Rest. Booze. The words spun in my head.
Real? Fake? True? Lie? Am I dumb? Or smart?
Head's gonna explode. Haven't drunk, but heart's pounding.
"Nyuu, loser kitty♥ Where's kitty♥"
Frustrated, he'd loosened his clothes, searching for me. Pale skin peeked through the gap.
"Wanna hug kitty to sleep♥ Squeeze super tight♥ Fluffy fluffy kitty♥"
Arms flailing, he grabbed my clothes, yanked me into his chest.
"My kitty♥ Hehe loser kiiitty♥ Kitty I reeeally like♥"
Ah, fuck it.
"Tyranno. Say no if you don't want it."
"Hweee... don't hate my kitty... mwah!"
I pressed my lips to Tyranno's. His saliva tasted of sweet flowers.