Chapter 21 - A Certain Girl's Afternoon
“…Ngh, mmm…”
A slow ascent into consciousness. It seemed it would take a little more time to get used to the autonomous return from the world of dreams. A woman—a girl—stirred, gradually putting strength into her hazy limbs to sit up, and a machine detected the movement and raised her.
With its automatically opening lid and its simple, functional appearance, it still felt more like a medical device than a game console. Thinking this for the nth time, she sat up and checked the time.
Despite having experienced what felt like enough time for the sun to begin setting, the clock in the real world showed it was only just past three in the afternoon.
“…My mental age is going to get way ahead of my real one before I know it.”
No matter how many times the principle was explained to her, she still couldn't quite grasp the time acceleration technology. If someone were to do their real-world work or studies ‘inside,’ wouldn't that be obvious cheating from the perspective of non-Arcadia users—
“Ah, right… I have to hurry.”
This was no time to be lost in thought. If she didn’t start preparing soon, her turn would be taken from her again, just like yesterday.
The girl slipped a haori over her loungewear from the rack and hurried out of her room.
“Oh my, are you already finished for today?”
As she had expected, someone was already there when the girl reached her destination.
A woman stood before the stove, wearing an apron as if it were the most natural thing in the world, stirring the contents of a pot. Seeing her, the girl puffed out her cheeks in displeasure.
“Itsuki-san! I told you, I’m on dinner duty on my days off!”
When she complained, the woman—Natsume Itsuki—giggled and offered a playful, teasing smile.
“Fufu, I thought you might be engrossed in another adventure with yesterday’s knight.”
“Ah! Y-You’ve still got it all wrong! It’s really not like that, it’s just a game!”
She hated how her feelings showed on her face at times like this. She was well aware that blushing while making excuses only made her less convincing.
It was her own fault for grabbing Itsuki last night, still buzzing with the excitement of her first adventure, and telling her all about it. Resigned to being teased, she knew she had to get Itsuki out of the kitchen.
As she pushed her away from the pot, saying, “Move, move,” Itsuki simply replied, “Oh my,” and yielded the spot without much resistance. Her gaze, directed at the girl’s obvious glare, was one hundred percent warm amusement. It was the look of a mother or an older sister.
She was endlessly grateful to Itsuki for handling all the housework she couldn’t manage, but she wished Itsuki would stop usurping her roles and trying to look after her in strange ways.
Did Itsuki think she was such an easy girl that she would fall in love at first sight with a man she had only adventured with for a short time in a game? She wished she wouldn't underestimate her so much.
“Honestly… Is this dashi for miso soup?”
“Yes. Would you like to take over?”
“I wanted to make Western food today.”
“Oh my. Well, I shall make soup tomorrow, then.”
“It’s spring break, so I’m on cooking duty tomorrow too!!”
Her retort, meant as payback, lacked force and was smoothly deflected. Itsuki was in her mid-twenties, she recalled—could she herself acquire such composure in ten years or so? She sadly couldn’t imagine it.
Perhaps sensing the girl’s growing pout, Itsuki quickly dropped the teasing atmosphere and offered a gentle smile from the side.
“Don’t be upset. Please, tell me what happened. You had another lively adventure today, didn’t you?”
The girl had a weakness for this mood of hers. A gaze like a gentle older sister, or perhaps a calm mother. It was ticklish, embarrassing, and made her avert her eyes.
“Well… yes, it was lively.”
“Then, please tell me. You see, since yesterday, I’ve become a fan of my lady’s adventure stories.”
She said it without hiding her genuine excitement, which made it hard to dislike her. However, there was one point she couldn't overlook.
“I won’t tell anyone who calls me ‘my lady’.”
“My apologies. In that case—Lady Sora, would you please be so kind as to tell me your story?”
“I-tsu-ki-san?”
“Oh, Sora, you worry about such little things. Just tell me your fun story, won’t you?”
Unable to shake the feeling of being played with, the girl—Sora—huffed and, while looking away, said, “Fine…” and began to recount the adventure that followed last night’s.
A bit short. I’ll post a continuation later this evening.