Let the Academy Festival Begin! (2)
Thunk—
"Hup... there. That was the last barrel, right?"
"Yeah. Good work."
"Aigoo, my back."
The oak beer casks were the ones Brunok had hauled out of the storerooms at both the shop and his house. Even commoners who went to bed hungry made a point of visiting the Academy Festival at least once, and with no way to guess how many people would come pouring in, he had loaded every last drop of beer onto the wagon. I had only helped with the unloading, and already my lower back was throbbing. We still had to sell like madmen all through the festival, and I was already in this state.
"Jinwoo, are you all right? I told you not to overdo it."
"I'm fine... thanks for worrying."
Eilenna asked with her ears drooping flat. At this rate, weren't elves a kind of beastkin too, in their own way? Those external organs broadcast emotion as plainly as a puppy's tail. Well. All I meant was that it was cute.
Rattle, thud—!
"Careful, careful—set it down easy!"
"Hey! Get a proper grip on that side!"
"Ugh, this thing's heavy!"
We weren't the only ones throwing our backs into the preparations. Merchants up and down the street were at it just as hard. Dawn dew still clung to the ground; the festival opened in the morning, so if we didn't start now, we'd never have time to spare.
Brunok planted a hand on his hip.
"Still... didn't think it'd be this big. Bigger than it sounded, if you ask me."
"You think so? The menu's light, so we'll be fine."
"Even so, feels like we're gonna need more hands."
I had modeled the Academy stall on those night-market alleys back home, the ones where orange lamps flickered on at dusk and vinyl doors rolled up one after another. Not a single covered cart wrapped in vinyl, of course—more of an open-air night stall, with plain tables and chairs scattered in a loose scatter. A broad canopy would keep the sun off well enough by day, and once night fell, that was when things would truly begin.
I understood Brunok's worry. Running the place on just me, Eilenna, and Brunok really would be too much. But I had already planned for that and lined people up.
I looked down the street toward the Academy gates.
"Don't worry. They ought to be here any minute..."
"Jinwoo! I'm here-nya!"
"Eh—Ruri?"
Ruri had been craning her neck as if the Academy were entirely new to her. The moment she spotted me, she waved. Eilenna made no effort to hide her disappointment once she saw who our helper was. Well... everyone had made up, hadn't they? In a way, it was thanks to Ruri that they had confirmed how they felt. And she wasn't the only one coming.
"A pleasure to meet you. I'm James, of the Calius Merchant Guild. The friend beside me is Jerry."
"Oh, hello. I heard about you from Calius ahead of time."
"We've both worked restaurants before, so rest easy. We'll do the job right."
"Good. I'm counting on you."
The stall had grown large enough that I had asked Mister Calius to arrange extra hands as well. James and Jerry were guild employees sent over on that request. That brought the crew to six in all—more than enough for a festival stall.
"Mm. Now I can breathe easy!"
"Let's sell this properly."
I had already copied enough chicken through the Mana Market to last three days without anyone dropping. With a little help from spirit arts, it was frozen solid; I only had to thaw out each day's sales. Chicken skewers were a simple dish to begin with, so there wasn't much else to prepare. Salt for the seasoning, and clear rice wine to kill the gaminess—that was the whole of it.
Fermented rice wine, of course, couldn't be had in this world. In its place I had bought cider in bulk, a substitute some people might even find tastier. Plenty of folks think of cider as a sweet, fizzy soft drink, but its origin was the fermented apple liquor of medieval Europe. In the European cultures of modern Earth, cider still means apple wine, and American barbecue practically requires the stuff. The alcohol strips away off-flavors and keeps the meat from losing its juices, while the apple lays down its own sweet-tart aroma.
Even so, it was only meant to add a little fragrance. I wasn't boiling the chicken in cider, so the flavor didn't shift all that much. If anything, this world's native chickens carried a deep, meaty aroma, and the cider's freshness would balance them nicely.
"I'll assign everyone's duties. Gather round!"
"Yes, sir!"
The festival trade I had poured my heart into finally raised its curtain.
With the festival upon them, the Academy streets were packed with stalls run by merchants from outside. Merchants were not the whole of it, though. The heart of this festival was still Arcadia Academy. Each department ran an official booth, and the student clubs had thrown themselves into events of their own.
Ishilla and Kariel were in their fourth year by the calendar—upperclassmen among upperclassmen. No underclassman was bold enough to dump booth duty onto seniors about to graduate.
"Uuuugh... this is the last festival I get to enjoy as a student."
"Hehe. Once we graduate and come back, won't there be a pleasure all its own? I'd like it if we came together then, too."
"Mmm. But you're a princess, Kariel... after we graduate, I won't even be able to treat you this casually."
"I'd like to say that doesn't matter at all, but I can't deny it completely."
Ishilla and Kariel strolled the festival street, sharing sweet fruit candy. The noisy festival air, the sharp street food they would never have bothered buying on an ordinary day, that strangely buoyant mood—realizing this might be the last time she could feel all of it in full, the corners of Ishilla's eyes drooped.
Kariel smiled faintly at the wilted girl beside her. A few strands of the silver bangs Ishilla had so neatly arranged had slipped free. Kariel hooked her in close and tucked the silver hair back behind her ear with her own hand. Breath as hot as the sun blazing overhead lingered between them.
"Even so, I'll let you keep speaking casually to me, Ishilla."
"Hah. Really...? You're a little close, though..."
"Hehe. Why? Embarrassed?"
Ishilla's snow-white face flushed red. Kariel stared at that skin as if she might see straight through it, then let go.
Pwah— Ishilla let out the breath she had been holding in a rush.
It really is a shame... that I won't be able to tease her like this anymore.
Kariel believed their friendship would not change after graduation, but there were joys you could only have as a student. A joke like the one just now—catching Ishilla by the shoulders and staring her down—would become difficult. Better to enjoy the moment, so the regret could become a happy memory, than to hesitate over it.
With that in mind, she looked around. On both sides of the street, club students were pitching their booths with fierce enthusiasm.
"The culmination of the Free Alchemy Club's efforts! A love potion!"
"What?"
"Slip it to the one you fancy... and love just might come true!"
One alchemy-club student, looking thoroughly disreputable, was calmly advertising what amounted to a crime. Ishilla heard the pitch, furrowed her brow, and recoiled.
"Ugh, what even is that. That's a crime. How did something like that pass the booth review?"
"I-is it really possible? If I secretly slipped some into Ishilla's Milk Peach..."
"Hm? Kariel. Did you call me?"
"Ah. It's nothing."
Kariel waved her hands, badly flustered. Ishilla blinked her lake-clear eyes, puzzled—a look cute enough to rival a pure little puppy. Watching her, Kariel clutched at her own heart.
This won't do. Before we graduate, I have to make it a settled fact somehow...
While that great resolve was taking shape in the princess's heart, Ishilla glanced around.
"By the way... where's the stall Master said he was running? This is the main street, and I don't see it."
"Ah, ahaha. Right. I wonder what Jinwoo—that chef—has cooked up this time."
"Why are you suddenly so flustered, Kariel?"
"I'm not. I was just thinking about something else. Ah! Didn't they say he set up out on the edge?"
"Right! I think they did."
Kariel and Ishilla left the main street and walked on.
Two weeks before the festival, Kang Jinwoo had announced he was closing up shop. For the two of them, who had bought tteokbokki and Milk Peach from his stall nearly every day, it was news they could not welcome at all. So they had had no choice but to lean on their influence. From that day on, the moment his hours ended he bolted and rushed about. Every time they stopped in for tteokbokki he had looked more tired than usual, so it did seem he was preparing something.
"What do you think Master prepared? I was perfectly happy with just the tteokbokki."
"Who knows. He's impossible to predict..."
"That much is true."
Before they knew it, the gaps between the tightly packed stalls had widened. This was the outer district, away from the main street, which meant the competition for spots was lower. By all rights a less popular street should have drawn a thinner crowd. And yet the deeper they went, the thicker the crowd grew, until a long line blocked Ishilla and Kariel's way.
At the same time, a scent richly teased the lining of their noses. Ishilla sniffed and looked ahead. A long queue stretched out before them, and the farther they followed it, the thicker grew the rich, fatty perfume of the Maillard reaction.
"Haaa... this has to be..."
"Hnn. Yeah. Looks like the line for Master's stall."
Appetite—the most instinctive layer of human awareness. Kang Jinwoo's cooking goaded that appetite without mercy. A charcoal-grilled aroma so delicious it bordered on violence seeped into their bodies.
Grrrgle...
They had been snacking here and there, so they shouldn't have been all that hungry. The instant they caught the smell, their stomachs growled, low and shallow. The human brain is clever, and the brains of Ishilla and Kariel—exceptionally gifted in magic, and raised on a fine education—needed no further praise. Even so, those excellent minds had been fooled by the simple fact of being full. Because of the mysterious smell drifting from up ahead, their brains gladly turned foolish, and for one purpose only: to cram Kang Jinwoo's food down into their stomachs.
Ishilla and Kariel joined the line as if bewitched, the way people in old tales are lured along by a pipe or a trail of sweets. Drawn by the smell, the crowd held its place even while it baked under the blazing sun.
Hot. It's far too hot... and I can't step out of line.
I've smelled this somewhere before. Camping...?
Ishilla and Kariel endured the heat, trying to place the scent as they waited their turn. The line, though, shrank far more slowly than it had back when he sold tteokbokki and toast. Why? Festival food was mostly eaten while you walked, so once it was handed over, you simply left. Wasn't that enough?
Ishilla's thoughts reached that far, and she suddenly looked around. Then she understood.
Up ahead... no one is coming back out.
Kang Jinwoo's stall sat on a corner even within the festival's outer district. Once you had your food, the only way out was back the way you had come. And yet, set against the crowd waiting in line, the number of people emerging again was pitifully small.
Not a street stall. A restaurant?
He couldn't have raised a building in so short a time, so it would have to be a dining space of open tables, like a terrace.
Master isn't an idiot. He's really running a restaurant like that at a festival?
The festival was as grand as Arcadia Academy's vast grounds. The program was rich enough that you had to wander all four days to enjoy everything, so most eateries sold food you could eat on the move. Naturally, Ishilla had assumed Master would sell toast or tteokbokki with only a slight variation. Kariel's expectations were hardly different. She, too, tilted her head at a layout rarely seen at a festival and turned the question over.
At last, after the long wait, their turn came.
"Kaaaah!! That's refreshing!"
"Where in the city was a beer like this hiding?!"
The lot was plainly wider than the other stalls, and across it ran a stretch of simple tables and chairs. All that kept off the heat was a single awning, and yet there was hardly an empty seat. At every table, a large beer mug sat in someone's hand.
"You're drinking sticky ale in weather like this? Are you in your right mind?"
Ale—a bitter drink, cloudy and dark, with a hint of thickness to it. In Ishilla's understanding, that was the only beer there was. She couldn't hide her shock, and the thought leapt straight out of her mouth. A man who had been gulping from his mug snorted.
"Pfft. Student, does this look like ordinary beer to you?"
"Y-you're drinking it while calling it beer!"
"Haha... just order some first. You'll figure it out on your own."
At the man's loaded words, Ishilla and Kariel exchanged a puzzled look. He seemed a commoner, but they paid it no mind. At the festival there was an unspoken rule that everyone was equal.
"Oh, ladies! Sit in this empty spot-nya!"
"That way of speaking...?"
"Let's sit first, Kariel."
From the afternoon on, Kang Jinwoo's shop—already drunk and rowdy—was chaos itself. Standing there blankly was enough to make your head spin. Ishilla and Kariel sat where the suspiciously spoken waitress led them.
"Then I'll bring chicken skewers and beer-nya! Wait just a moment-nya."
"W-wait a minute! Chicken skewers? We haven't said a word yet."
"Nyaa? What are you talking about-nya."
The waitress tilted her head as if she were looking at strange people. Ishilla and Kariel felt much the same. They hadn't even ordered, and the moment they sat down she decided the menu on her own. What kind of house policy was that?
A brief silence passed, and then the waitress spoke as if something had just occurred to her.
"Ah! Sorry-nya. I forgot the explanation-nya."
"Ahaha... it's all right. So, the menu?"
A shop this busy—forgetting was understandable. Ishilla answered with a generous smile. The waitress answered just as brightly.
"Our menu is! Chicken skewers and beer-nya!"
"Eh?"
"You eating, or not-nya? For the record, one dish and one drink per person is mandatory-nya. Don't like it, and we can't take you-nya!"
That's just telling us to order chicken skewers and beer.
Ishilla turned the absurd house rule over in her head. Kariel, whose eyes she happened to meet, wore a look of equal disbelief. Once again, Kang Jinwoo's shop was shattering their common sense in real time.