The layer of cheese on top of the seafood baked rice was still bubbling. Yuki Kurokawa carefully scooped a spoonful from the edge of the dish, blew on it twice, and then popped it into her mouth.
She chewed, her eyes narrowing slightly as her eyelashes cast a small shadow on her cheeks.
“Is it good?”
“It is,” she nodded, resting her spoon against the edge of the plate. “There's plenty of cheese, and the shrimp are bigger than they look in the menu pictures. The batter on the fish and chips is just the right thickness, and the fish seems very tender—should I squeeze some lemon for you?”
“Please.”
Yuki Kurokawa picked up the lemon wedge and squeezed it gently, letting the juice drizzle evenly over the fried fish.
She set the leftover lemon on the edge of the plate and raised her eyes, just about to say something.
Qiluo noticed her pupils contract slightly. The hand holding the lemon froze in midair, and her breath caught for a second. Her contract mark was burning hot.
“...Kurokawa?”
Yuki Kurokawa gently set the lemon on the edge of the plate. Her movements were slow, as if she had suddenly remembered something. “I just remembered—when we passed the first floor earlier, I saw a limited-edition jellyfish bookmark in the souvenir shop. It might sell out by the time we finish eating. I'll go buy it and be right back.”
She spoke a bit faster than usual, weaving a complete lie in just a few seconds.
Did anyone think it was easy for Yuki to lie? No, it was just that no one ever paid enough attention to notice.
At home, there was no need to lie because no one asked where she was going. At school, there was no need to lie either because no one would press for details.
When her mother asked, “How was school?” she only had to reply, “Fine,” and the conversation would end.
Being dismissive and lying were two different things. Being dismissive meant not wanting to talk, while lying meant wanting to go somewhere but not being able to tell the truth.
The latter required courage, as well as the self-awareness of knowing “no one will worry after I say this.”
Yuki Kurokawa didn't want to leave... Her very first time having a meal with a friend was about to be interrupted by something like this.
Yuki Kurokawa kept her head lowered. She had only taken two bites of her baked rice, and the pudding hadn't even arrived yet.
She didn't want to go, but she had to. She gripped the strap of her crossbody bag tightly, a mix of bitterness and anger choking her throat.
She could endure many things. She could endure her mother's lecturing, she could endure being alone, and she could endure never having been invited out by anyone.
But this time was different. Why did this have to happen now, of all times...
Then, she heard the soft scraping of chair legs against the floor. Qiluo pushed back her chair, stood up, walked over from the other side of the booth, and stopped right in front of her.
This distance was closer than at any other point today, closer than she usually stood with anyone.
Yuki Kurokawa felt that they were too close—so close that she might be found out. A thin layer of sweat broke out on the bridge of her nose from the lie.
Has she figured it out? Is she going to ask where I'm going?
“It's a limited edition, right? Once it's sold out, it's gone.” Qiluo leaned against the booth's divider, simply smiling as she patted Yuki Kurokawa's hand.
Yuki Kurokawa looked up at her. That smile seemed like indulgence, as if saying, “I know what you want to do, don't worry.”
Was she overthinking it? But that gesture just now—she was definitely smiling at her.
No, that was impossible. There was no way she could know about the Erosion Bodies.
Qiluo didn't have any transformed mana on her, and Star-trail had also said that she wasn't a Magical Girl.
“I'll wait for you to come back! I won't eat the pudding without you!”
Yuki Kurokawa blinked, then lowered her head, the blush on the tips of her ears quickly spreading down to her earlobes.
She adjusted her crossbody bag, turned, and walked toward the restaurant's exit. After a couple of steps, she stopped, glanced back at Qiluo, her lips moving as if she wanted to say thank you, but also sorry.
But saying sorry felt too unlike her usual self. In the end, she only spoke three words.
“...I'll be quick.”
Qiluo sat back down, watching the steam still rising from the baked rice across from her. Through the glass window, she saw a petite figure hurriedly bypass the penguin exhibit and slip into the alleyway leading to the staff passage.
How did this dummy forget that our booth is right next to the window...
Sigh, why do I always run into trouble whenever I go out to play? It was the same at the amusement park last time, and I even ran into trouble right when I was getting off work.
I clearly prayed to the gods of this world beforehand, just like people on the internet suggested.
I prayed that I wouldn't run into any Erosion Bodies today, and that I'd get to enjoy a perfectly ordinary day off.
Do the gods of this world just consume my faith and do absolutely nothing? How disappointing.
In the future, am I going to encounter an Erosion Body every single time I go out with a friend?
Qiluo sighed, idly playing with the rice in front of her with her fork.
I'll just pretend this rice is an Erosion Body and gobble it up in one bite later!
Qiluo Tian Gong was supposed to be just an ordinary student who knew nothing.
She now had two choices. First, she could run after her as Qiluo Tian Gong, ask Yuki Kurokawa if she needed help, and be turned away with even more carefully woven lies.
Second, she could stay put, let her go alone, and ensure her safe return in some other way from a corner where she couldn't see.
Qiluo chose the second option. She picked up the unfinished cup of oolong tea, took a small sip, set it back down, and leaned against the back of the booth. Closing her eyes, she switched her consciousness over to Star-trail.
Star-trail was currently huddled in the outer pocket of Yuki Kurokawa's crossbody bag, squeezed right next to the jellyfish charm.
Qiluo found it odd that it wasn't floating beside Yuki Kurokawa, looking through their shared field of vision.
Fearing it might accidentally say the wrong thing, it had quietly told Yuki Kurokawa that it wanted to sleep in her bag for a bit longer.
It was fine; after all, Yuki also knew this little lazybones did nothing but sleep—who knows who it got that from.
The charm's tentacles were wrapped around Star-trail's ear, the thin silver threads tangled with its silvery-white fur. It took some time to untangle the tentacles from its ear before poking half of its head out.
Yuki Kurokawa was walking very fast, crossing the aquarium's outdoor corridor and heading toward the river channel.
Star-trail slowly floated out, flying beside Yuki Kurokawa at head height.
Yuki Kurokawa noticed that the little Star-trail had woken up, showing no surprise.
If it didn't wake up now, Yuki Kurokawa would probably start questioning whether this Contract Spirit, tasked with protecting world peace, had any professional ethics at all.
“Star-trail,” she whispered, not looking back. “Do you feel it?”
“I do. There are three of them, moving slowly, drifting downstream along the river channel. They must have just spawned and haven't found an anchor yet.”
Qiluo hadn't been idle during this time either; she had done some reading of her own.
Erosion Bodies required a massive amount of mana to remain in the physical realm. When they first spawned, they would prioritize finding a location with a stable concentration of mana to anchor their cores.
This location was the anchor.
Once they found it, they would begin absorbing mana from the surrounding environment to strengthen themselves. It would be a huge pain to deal with them after that.
Rate on N.U.
