Hanamana's Invitation (1)
"Sion! Director! I've been waiting for you!"
As we entered the restaurant and were led by a staff member into a lavish private room with an elegant table, Hanamana, who had arrived first, stood up from her seat and greeted us warmly.
After work ended and she woke from her nap, Hanamana had suggested we three have dinner together, so we'd agreed.
"Come on, sit down quick! The food will be out any second."
Hanamana hurriedly guided me to my seat, then wheeled Sion's chair to an empty spot where a chair had already been pulled out. Once Sion and I were settled, Hanamana returned to her own seat at the head of the table, welcoming us with a smile.
"Thank you so much for today… Ow!"
Hanamana had sat down and was bowing her head in thanks, but she couldn't even finish before letting out a yelp and jerking her head back.
"My hair got caught in the chair…"
Apparently, her right twin tail had snagged on the chair's decoration. Hanamana twisted around to the right, checked the backrest with a pouty face, then awkwardly bent her waist, grunting as she struggled to free her hair from between the chair's frame.
"Jeez, Hanamana. Just sit still and face forward."
"Ah, ouch!!"
Unable to watch any longer, Sion moved beside her and freed the hair. Hanamana straightened it out, pulling it forward, then bowed again.
"Thank you so much. And sorry…"
"That 'sorry' of yours…"
I was tempted to tell her the same thing I'd said to Sion—save the apologies for later—but…
"No, it's fine. Hanamana really does need to feel a bit sorry sometimes."
"Right? That's just how Hanamana is…"
I decided to let her apologize. Hanamana wouldn't be someone we'd see often after her business trip ended anyway. No need to go out of our way for someone we wouldn't run into daily like Sion.
What worried me more was Hanamana's condition. Humans need about three days to recover their sleep rhythm after pulling an all-nighter, dragging through with fatigue. Did elves suffer the same?
"Hanamana."
"Yes?"
"Did you get some good rest today?"
"Yes! I feel so refreshed. It's been forever since I slept so soundly without a care."
She beamed, shaking her head happily. No signs of exhaustion—good. Elves stayed youthful even at two hundred, so maybe they bounced back better than humans.
"Glad to hear it."
As she said, the food arrived quickly, filling the table in a lavish setup. I'd tried plenty of high-end cuisine in this world, but the Holy Nation of Praine was known for its unique food culture, developed in isolation due to its rugged terrain and difficult access. I was looking forward to it.
"I actually wanted to cook for you myself…"
"Please spare us."
"I'll pass, thanks."
Hanamana sulked while Sion looked horrified. I politely declined as well. Hanamana's cooking was infamous as a meme in the original story. She loved cooking and always put in her best effort, but her dishes didn't just taste bad or weird—they often failed to become food at all. Explosions, fires, unrecognizable masses, or total disasters yielded to the floor… Experiencing those book memes in real life might be novel, but I had no desire to be ground zero.
"Huh? Even Director?"
Hanamana tilted her head as I refused too.
"Have you ever seen Hanamana cook, Director?"
Oh right—only Sion knew I'd been part of the hero party originally. To Hanamana, we met yesterday, so acting too familiar would raise flags, like now.
"Sion told me."
"That's mean, Sion. What did you say to make Director react like that…?"
"Uh… the truth?"
"Ugh."
Fortunately, Sion played along. While we chatted briefly, the staff finished serving and left the room. Hanamana clasped her hands, glancing between Sion and me.
"Let's pray before we eat."
This was the Holy Nation of Praine, invited by priestess Hanamana—prayer was natural. Matching her closed eyes and bowed head, Sion and I did the same. Her solemn prayer voice filled the room, different from her usual demeanor.
Lord of Creation, we receive Your creations. Through this daily bread, let our bodies and souls grow strong.
Here gather three who perform unparalleled righteousness for the world and humanity You created. Look upon us mercifully, that our injuries may not halt our deeds of justice.
Finally, for Sion here and the countless adventurers and veterans bearing war's wounds, we pray they shake it off soon and walk Your world by their own strength.
We thank You for hearing Your creation's earnest prayer today. All this, from Your creation Hanamana.
We opened our eyes as the prayer ended, meeting each other's gazes. The mood had turned solemn. Truth be told, Hanamana's unexpected side had caught me off guard.
"Alright, dig in!"
And just like that, she reset the atmosphere in one line. With her signal, we finally smiled and began eating.
Since we three were together for a pleasant meal, some conversation seemed fitting.
"Hanamana."
"Yes, Director."
"I scolded you pretty harshly, didn't I?"
"Ugh. Hanamana fell short, so… Sorry for getting scolded so much…"
This girl. The conversation just wouldn't flow as planned. I'd meant to praise her, but she deflated again. Normally, wouldn't someone say, "No! I don't think that at all!"? Admitting the scolding and diving into negative mode—what a response.
Maybe I should skip the buildup with her and get straight to the point next time.
"I was trying to say don't get down on yourself, but you beat me to it."
"W-was that it?! Sorry, Hanamana's so oblivious!"
"It's fine. Anyway, from reviewing yesterday's charts and today's patients…"
Hanamana watched me tensely.
"You're doing great. Even with a brand-new center swamped by patients, your charts are spot-on, and patients and staff alike trust and follow you. Or… worry about you and look after you? Either way, those bonds help treatment."
That was my honest assessment of Praine Holy Nation Rehab Center Director Hanamana. Not flattery—just the facts, to encourage her.
"Direeeector…"
Her eyes welled up, on the verge of tears.
"But you need to fix that habit of crying or yelling at the drop of a hat. Doctors need to be dependable for patients. Right now, it feels like the patients are the ones taking care of you."
"Sniff, got it."
At the note about her crying, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve, forcing a mature expression as she looked at me.
"Sh-should we eat now? The food here's delicious."
"Oh, yeah? I ordered all your favorites, Hanamana!"
All this was Hanamana's favorites? She couldn't cook, so maybe she loved eating out. Or the restaurant was just top-tier. Either way, the variety was impressive, every dish high quality.
The dinner flowed warmly. Mostly Hanamana and Sion chatting happily about old times or Nao, until Hanamana stepped out briefly for something, leaving Sion and me alone for a moment.
"Um… Director Hope."
"?"
As Hanamana left, Sion spoke up right away. Her expression and tone suggested some worry.
"Something wrong?"
"I was thinking… maybe tell Hanamana you're her old comrade?"
Introducing myself as a former hero party member to Hanamana… It made sense, but…
"You didn't tell the princess."
I hadn't told Nao, another comrade. Probably because she was injured, and I wanted her out of the next fight. Did uninjured Hanamana not count?
"Nao's hurt, but Hanamana isn't. She could fight with us. Her power might… come in handy someday."
"Hm…"
From my perspective rehabilitating Sion, Nao's injury was milder—she could at least support herself and started rehab far earlier. She could finish sooner and fight, yet Sion didn't want her in the next Demon King battle.
So I'd assumed we'd keep the next gate secret from Hanamana too, rehabbing without it. But Sion thought we should tell her now?
"What do you think, Director Hope?"
"Sion, that's not for me to decide…"
"Truth is, I'm torn. Thinking I have to fight again… go back to that battlefield… it terrifies me. No, I'm still on that battlefield. Maybe fighting is my fate, something I can never escape. But you two are different. Nao… Hanamana… I don't want them facing this fear."
Sion trembled, head bowed. I stood, moved beside her, and gripped her shaking hands tightly.
"Sion. Calm down. I'm right here."
"But facing the Demon King without even Hanamana scares me more. I'm not strong, I'm weak—I held my comrades back so many times, failed to protect them. I… I don't know what to do!"
As her trembling intensified, I pulled her into my arms. When fear gripped her, this was all I could do now. But it worked; she leaned into me, relying on my hold to steady herself. A moment both grateful and heart-pounding.
So fragile, so afraid, yet always striving to be the hero—that's what made Sion irreplaceably special to me.
"So you decide, Director Hope. What should I do? Will you tell Hanamana your secret too?"
"It's okay, calm down, Sion. I…"
Of course, I had no intention of lying to Hanamana too. Secrets like that only complicate things with more people in the know. So…
"To Hanamana…"
—Slide.
"How's the meal?"
Just as I was about to tell Sion I wouldn't reveal it to Hanamana, the sliding door to the private room burst open, and Hanamana strode back in.
"Huh? Sion? Director?"
Sudden silence. I was crouched before the huddled, trembling Sion, holding her tightly in my arms.
"……."
Hanamana met my eyes, her face blank with confusion, clearly not grasping the situation. What perfect timing…