Serving Meals In Another World (Light Novel), Volume 1 Chapter 2

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Volume One, Chapter Two: Moonlight, Beer, and the Grill

Hoo, hoo—I could hear a bird calling outside.

The night sky through the window was cloudless, a huge moon pouring cold, pale-blue light down over the land. The air had turned crisp with a cold bite, and I sniffled a little. Pulling the collar of my pajamas closed with chilled hands, I slipped my feet into my fluffy slippers.

Then I quietly opened my bedroom door and stepped out into the dark, chilly hallway.

Ever since I’d taken over cooking for my sister, I’d moved my residence from the detached palace back to our house. Honestly, it made things much easier, given all the prep work involved in cooking. The detached palace was quite far from this house.

So, that’s how I came to be at the house tonight, but…

…Tiptoe, tiptoe. Slowly, carefully. I stepped cautiously across the floorboards.

It’s an old house—the moment you let your guard down, the boards creak right away.

Erasing my presence as best I could so as not to wake my sister, I made my way down the stairs from the second-floor bedroom.

Finally reaching the first floor, I slowly opened the old wooden door at the end of the narrow hallway.

Creeeak…—the old rusted hinges let out a groan.

I froze for a second and listened carefully, but there was no sign of my sister waking up.

Letting out a small breath, I slipped inside.

Fumbling in the pitch-black room, I found the switch. The old incandescent bulb flickered a few times before finally lighting the room.

This room is what our family calls the pantry—or the storeroom, depending on who you ask. It’s where my grandmother’s carefully hoarded dried goods and canned foods are kept, along with long-lasting root vegetables and the various liquors my grandfather and I used to collect together. Among the cluttered piles were things quite old by now, giving off a faint smell of dust.

I made my way to the back of the room, cluttered with all sorts of things, and rummaged through the shelves here and there.

After a while, I found what I was looking for, and—with an evil little grin spreading across my face—quietly slipped back out of the room.

The kitchen had grown quite cold after the heating had been turned off for the night, and despite spring being just around the corner, the chill was still intense. I brought out a small electric heater and switched it on. I wasn’t planning to stay for very long, so this should be enough.

…Still a bit chilly, though, so I pulled out my quilted vest and threw it on. Yeah, my nose was still cold, but it was a bit more bearable now.

I pulled out the "charcoal starter" from the back of a cupboard and loaded it with some leftover charcoal from last year’s barbecue, brought over from the pantry.

The "charcoal starter" was a device with a mesh bottom set inside an iron pot—mainly used to hold charcoal and light it over a stove burner.

Its trusty partner, the shichirin grill, was already standing by.

A grin bubbled up again.

My sister was fast asleep, and Jade had already gone home.

With no one left to stop me, I was about to…

—enjoy a secret drink all by myself.

I’ve always loved sneaking quiet drinks late at night with my grandfather, hidden from my grandmother and sister. We would sit facing each other, exchange drinks while chatting about nothing in particular, and nibble on snacks I had prepared.

It was such a small thing, but that time with my grandfather always felt so comforting. Maybe part of the appeal was the thrill of sneaking around behind my grandmother’s back, since she was always worried about his health. Thanks to all those secret drinking sessions where he’d have me try all sorts of drinks with him, I ended up becoming quite the drinker myself.

After my grandfather passed away, I drank alone just once. Watching the moon by myself with a drink in hand felt so lonely that I stopped doing it after that.

Coming back to this house after so long, the familiar smell of it made me nostalgic. Maybe some unconscious part of me wished I could go back to those days. Somehow, tonight, I just felt like having a secret drink again.

I lit the gas burner.

Once the flame caught the charcoal in the starter, it made a light, cheerful crackling snap, pop sound that was fun just to listen to.

While that got going, I washed the taro roots I’d taken from the pantry with water. It was nighttime, so it was cold outside too. The water was freezing. Blowing warm breath onto my reddened fingertips, I worked hard to scrub off the caked-on dirt.

Once they were clean, I set them on a plate, covered them loosely with plastic wrap, and popped them in the microwave for about three minutes.

While that ran, I prepped some garlic, mincing it finely. That too went onto a plate, covered with wrap. I got out miso, mirin, sake, and sugar, and mixed them together.

Ding!—the microwave’s beep made me flinch a little. Straining my ears as hard as I could for any sign of my sister waking up, I carefully swapped out the taro plate for the minced garlic plate, this one just for thirty seconds.

“Ow, ow, ow.”

The microwaved taro had gone wonderfully soft; when I peeled the skin off with my bare hands, it slid right off.

It was quite hot, so I tossed it back and forth between my hands like a juggling ball to survive the heat.

Once I’d finally finished peeling them all, I got out a small pot and warmed up the miso mixture from earlier.

Since it had sugar in it, I kept a careful eye on it to avoid burning, and once it started bubbling gently around the edges, I added the garlic.

The scent of garlic, the fragrant smell of miso caramelizing against the pot—an absolutely appetite-stirring aroma. Since the garlic had already been microwaved through, it didn’t need much more simmering.

A quick taste test confirmed it was seasoned just right—the garlic miso was done.

I plated the taro separately and set the garlic miso aside in a small dish.

I also pulled out That Other Thing from the overhead cupboard and set it on the tray alongside everything else.

By then, the charcoal in the starter was just about ready.

Carefully, so as not to burn myself, I gently dropped the charcoal into the shichirin grill. The faint warmth of the coals brushed against my cheeks, and their glowing red color only heightened my anticipation for the drink ahead.

—And then, tiptoeing once more.

I crossed from the kitchen through the living room and out onto the veranda. On clear, beautiful moonlit nights like this, drinking out on the veranda was always the tradition with my grandfather.

Naturally, the storm shutters were closed, so I opened just two panels.

The moment I opened the shutters, a cold gust of wind hit me—whoosh!

Biting back a shriek of "cold!" I stomped my feet lightly to fend off the chill and dragged the kotatsu over from the living room. I switched it on right away to start warming it up.

Fighting the urge to dive straight into the kotatsu immediately, I brought over the tray with the shichirin and the food.

I set the grate on the shichirin and placed the taro on top.

The chewy taro’s surface, seared by the charcoal, gradually started turning crisp and golden.

Swallowing hard, I spread a spoonful or two of garlic miso over them and grilled them a little more. The sizzling smell of miso caramelizing spread through the air instantly—an indescribably good smell.

—Alright!

I sprang to my feet and hurried back to the kitchen, moving at top speed while keeping my footsteps silent, and made it to the refrigerator.

Inside were a few bottles of premium beer.

I grabbed one, along with a ceramic beer glass known for producing a good, thick foam, and dashed back to the veranda at top speed again.

Slipping quickly under the kotatsu, I cracked the can open with a pshh and poured it into the glass with a satisfying glug, glug, glug.

The fine-textured foam billowed up invitingly, tempting my lips.

I pursed my lips slightly and gave the foam a light sip first, then tipped the glass back and gulped down the golden liquid in one go.

The carbonation fizzed and popped at the back of my throat. Along with the tingling bubbles, a refreshing bitterness brushed across my tongue for just a moment before slipping down my throat before I could really savor it.

I let out a breath—haaah—and yeah, it really was cold out.

I hurriedly grabbed a piece of taro with my chopsticks.

Garlic miso taro, grilled over charcoal.

Blowing on it to cool it down, I took a bite, and the sticky, gooey taro along with the fragrant miso gently warmed up my mouth, still chilled from the beer. And hidden beneath the miso was the minced garlic—since it wasn’t crushed into a paste, the grilling gave it just enough presence to assert itself. The scent of garlic wafted up from my mouth into my nose, carrying with it a small pang of guilt for eating something like this in the middle of the night.

Then another satisfying gulp of beer.

“Haaah…”

Whether that sound that escaped me was from satisfaction or guilt, I couldn’t say.

Either way was fine, honestly—my face had gone completely slack with pleasure and showed no signs of recovering anytime soon.

My feet were toasty under the kotatsu, my body snug in the quilted vest. My face and hands were cold, but the gradual warmth radiating from the shichirin felt wonderful too.

In high spirits, I pulled out That Other Thing I’d grabbed from the cupboard earlier—dried squid—and started grilling it over the shichirin.

And then, right at that moment—

“Yo there, missy. Nice night for it.”

An unfamiliar man’s voice spoke up, and I felt all the warmth drain right out of my body.

The man who’d suddenly appeared paid no mind to my shock, saying something like, "Well now, that smells mighty good—pour me a glass too, missy," while carelessly kicking off his heavy-looking metal boots into the yard and climbing right into the kotatsu with me.

…Sizzle, sizzle.

The squid legs, curling from the shichirin’s heat, made a faint crackling sound as they charred slightly.

A rich, briny aroma rose from the grilling squid, and I couldn’t help but swallow hard.

—I have to hurry, or the squid would dry out from the heat.

Dried squid that had been grilled and then allowed to cool became dry and hollow, and wasn’t tasty at all. So taking it off the shichirin now was completely out of the question. It had to be eaten piping hot, or there was no point.

I stared, grrr, at the man who was smiling cheerfully and showed no sign of leaving anytime soon.

—Sigh.

Letting out a white puff of breath in the cold, I hurried back to the kitchen to fetch more alcohol and another glass.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

“Heh heh, you eat too, missy!”

I quietly regarded the man, whose attitude made it seem like he considered himself the host here. Right in front of me sat a middle-aged man, cheeks stuffed full of the extra taro I’d prepared. His armor, glinting pale under the moonlight, marked him as a knight. But unlike Jade’s, his armor was pitch black.

The taro on the shichirin vanished into his mouth in no time at all.

“Still though—huff, hot, hot, phew. This is good stuff. Never had a root vegetable like this. Sticky, gooey, real interesting texture. And this… miso, was it? The garlic in this is great, nice and salty, and the slightly charred bits are just—glug, glug, glug… ahh, man, this beer pairs perfectly with it.”

The man set his glass down on the kotatsu with a heavy thunk. Three empty cans already lay scattered in front of him.

—My beeeeer…

The illustration’s description: The old man in armor under the kotatsu, two cans of beer—with the label “isekai beer”—on the table and one in the smiling man’s hand. And also the shichirin grill on the table.

Bitterly, I bit into a piece of squid leg.

The thin tip, seared by the fire, snapped off easily with a crack. The crispy leg was almost like a snack food. The slightly thicker part had chewy suckers and firm flesh. The more I chewed, the more the taste of the sea spread through my mouth, and the saltiness called for another drink.

Sip, chew, sip, chew—I couldn’t stop.

“That looks good too.”

At the man’s voice, another squid leg vanished right off the shichirin.

He popped the squid into his mouth, saying "Mm, delicious," with his eyes crinkling happily.

The man introduced himself as Dazil.

Gray hair and eyes of some pale color, hard to make out in the dim light. Despite his generally muted coloring, his sharp gaze and the fine web of scars covering his face hinted at a rough, violent past. Every time he reached for the taro, his thick, muscular arm flashed into view, as if silently advertising his own strength.

—Who exactly is this guy?

Curious as I was, I found I wasn’t afraid of him and could just calmly keep drinking—maybe thanks to the deep laugh lines carved into the corners of his eyes.

Every time he tipped back a swig of beer, his otherwise sharp eyes would narrow, deepening those laugh lines—something about it reminded me a little of my grandfather, whenever he’d enjoyed a good drink.

I grilled my favorite part of the squid—the fin—quickly on the shichirin. It’s thin and hardens fast when grilled, so just barely warming it through is enough.

I tore it in half with my fingers and decided to share it with Dazil.

When I silently held it out, he laughed and took it with an "Oh, nice.”

I popped it into my mouth, and the saltiness—stronger than in any other part of the squid—made my cheeks tighten. I washed down the mouthwatering flavor by gulping down the rest of my beer.

Savoring the aftertaste, I looked up at the huge, round moon. It struck me as strange that the moon looked exactly the same even in a completely different world, and with the alcohol helping along, I found myself humming a children’s song about the moon.

I felt a little childish singing it, but somehow, dissolving into the cold night air, that moon song seemed like a genuinely lovely thing—strange, that.

Dazil clapped along, pat pat, and then sang me a verse of some unfamiliar otherworld song I didn’t recognize.

After that, both of us got progressively more pleasantly buzzed, and we kept drinking together leisurely until the charcoal in the shichirin had burned all the way down to white ash.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

—The next morning.

I was quite startled to find Jade, looking like he’d bitten into something bitter, and Dazil, grinning far too cheerfully, both showing up together for the morning greeting.

It turned out Dazil was the captain of the knight order Jade belonged to. Apparently, on his way home from work the previous night, he’d happened to pass by near our house and stumbled upon me having my solo drinking session.

Dazil placed a hand on my shoulder as I stood frozen, mouth hanging open, and warned me that drinking alone at night, during the hours when security was thinnest, was dangerous. As a state guest of this kingdom, he said, there was always the possibility, however small, that I could become a target.

This time, I froze up for an entirely different reason. …Did that mean I wasn’t allowed to have my secret midnight drinking sessions anymore?

—My precious nighttime indulgence.

While I sat there pale with dismay, Dazil hurriedly reassured me that it would be fine as long as some other guard was present. He even offered to personally take on guard duty for it himself, should the need arise.

Relieved, I let out a breath, hand on my chest.

Then, for some reason, Jade—wearing an absolutely radiant smile—spoke up:

“Akane, please call me too, when that happens.”

Which caught me completely off guard.

“Eh, but… that would be after your shift ends. You’re already with me all day; there’s no need for you at night too—”

“It’s fine, so please do call me.”

“Come on, you need your rest—”

“Please call me.”

“…Okay.”

The smile on Jade’s face somehow didn’t reach his eyes at all…

Watching the two of us, Dazil burst out laughing behind us for some reason.

Afterward, when my sister heard about all this, she scolded me too—telling me not to drink with strangers, and definitely not to let them follow me around afterward either.

Incidentally, it turned out my sister had known about my secret drinking sessions with our grandfather all along. She said she’d pretended not to notice, since it seemed like such a precious, private time between the two of us.

…My sister was apparently far more grown-up than I’d given her credit for.

From then on, whenever I held a drinking session—no longer a secret one—both Dazil and Jade started joining in.

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Serving Meals In Another World (Light Novel), Volume 1 Chapter 1

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Volume One, Chapter One: Golden Omurice and Silky-Smooth Corn Soup

Spring was drawing near in this other world.

When we’d first arrived, it had been freezing even inside the castle, and snow would sometimes fall thick and heavy. But now, though patches of snow still lingered along the roadside, young leaves were poking up between them, and the wind had begun to lose its winter bite.

I gazed out the small carriage window, drowsy from the sun’s pleasant warmth. The unfamiliar scenery only made my anticipation build all the more. Today, I was headed to the market by carriage with several knights as my guards, to buy ingredients.

When I first started cooking for my sister, Prince Cain had offered his full cooperation, and arrangements had been made for the royal palace kitchens to provide me with ingredients. They’d lined up a whole array of prepared ingredients and presented them to me with a "here you go!"—and the moment I saw that, one thought crossed my mind.

…How boring.

Cooking is fun precisely because you go to buy ingredients, stand there staring them down, muttering back and forth to yourself about what to make. Sometimes you stumble on some unexpectedly in-season find, and your whole menu changes on the spot. It’s not unusual to end up making something completely different from what I’d told my sister that morning, and getting complained at for it.

…And here they wanted me to just cook with whatever ingredients they handed me!

As someone who routinely stalked the crowded supermarket in the evening, waiting for the exact moment when prices were marked down and taking pleasure in securing my prey, I absolutely wanted to do my own shopping.

I wanted to chat with the uncles and aunties running shops in this other world, price battle and all.

Once that thought took hold, the finest ingredients the palace kitchen could offer lost all their appeal to me. After that, I dragged my sister into it and made a spectacular fuss until I finally won the right to go shopping at the market myself.

I imagine coordinating the security logistics must have been a real headache, but Prince Cain agreed readily all the same—I really do owe him one.

After riding along in the carriage for a while, the scenery outside gradually grew livelier. We seemed to have left the residential district and entered the commercial quarter. Here and there, I started spotting shopkeepers with their wares laid out front, calling out to passersby.

I got so excited I found myself leaning right out of the carriage window to look.

Maybe it was a reaction to having been practically a shut-in ever since arriving here, but I’d been way too excited about today ever since the night before, unable to sleep like a kid the night before a field trip. I was about to finally get to visit the market I’d been so looking forward to. Just thinking about it kept my cheeks stuck in a permanent grin.

“Are you looking forward to the market?”

Jade, seated across from me, spoke up.

He was my personally assigned guard knight, and he’d been looking after me ever since I arrived in this world.

He had short black hair and striking honey-colored eyes, always dressed in gleaming silver armor with a large sword at his hip. He came with me wherever I went, and just the other day, he’d helped me make pudding for the first time since coming here—a genuinely good person.

He’s what you’d call nobility, technically, but he never puts on airs, and I think he’s really taken good care of protecting this strange, unknown Japanese woman from another world.

“Was I really being that obviously excited? That’s a little embarrassing. …But, yeah. You’re right. I really am looking forward to the market! And the clothes too. Having an outfit from around here prepared for me—I feel a little awkward wearing it because I’m not used to it, but it’s so cute that it makes me excited. I wonder what kind of selection the market will have.”

It was probably obvious, but the clothes I had brought with me stood out way too much in this world. It was better to keep the fact that I was the Saint’s older sister as hidden as possible. So, they’d had ordinary, town-girl-style clothes prepared for me instead—a white shirt with a pale-colored dress. The skirt flared softly from the waist down, with an adorable pop of red as an accent color. …My first trip to the market, in cute clothes. Honestly, I knew I was excited, but being visibly excited enough for someone else to notice, at my age, was a little embarrassing.

Jade narrowed his honey-colored eyes and explained various things to me with a gentle smile.

“There’s a large fishing port not too far from the royal capital. Thanks to that, we get plenty of seafood here. The Kingdom of Gilberta maintains good relations with other nations, and trade is thriving, so goods from all sorts of countries make their way here. I do hope you’ll find something you like, Akane.”

“Seafood! Wonderful! My country eats a lot of fish, so I’m glad there’s plenty of seafood here!”

“Is that so? That’s good to hear. Let’s take a good look around together, then. At this time of year… perhaps mashika…”

“Mashika?”

“A large fish with cherry-blossom-pink flesh. It is also called the ‘harbinger of spring.’ As the name suggests, it announces the arrival of spring, but it’s also famous for being ferocious enough to attack fishermen from inside their nets.”

“…Scary! Just imagining that is terrifying!”

I pictured a fish on a cutting board snapping its teeth at me, trying to bite, and couldn’t help but shudder.

While I sat there pale-faced and alone in my dread, Jade let out a small burst of laughter.

“…The fish sold at the market are already dead, you know?”

“…Oh—r-right, of course they are…! I mean, obviously. Haha… It’s not like I was picturing having to prep a live one or anything. Haha ha…”

The illustration’s description: Smiling Jade.

I hurriedly tried to cover up my ridiculous little daydream, but it must have been completely obvious, because Jade burst out laughing.

“You’re laughing too much!”

“Yeah, sorry. No, but—pfft, ahahaha.”

Watching him laugh so cheerfully somehow made me unbearably self-conscious, and I cooled my burning cheeks with both hands, turning away to wait for the embarrassment to pass.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

“Whoa…!”

The market in this other world was something else entirely.

Countless shops packed together shoulder to shoulder across a sprawling lot, with crowds weaving through the narrow paths between them. There were all kinds of shops, but just as Jade had said, seafood stalls were by far the most numerous.

There were absurdly huge fish, and shellfish in gaudy, outlandish colors. When the eye of some jade-green, sunfish-looking creature lying in a large basket rolled and glared right at me, I nearly screamed.

While I gazed at everything with a racing heart, half fascinated and half nervous, the old fishmonger kindly explained each fish to me. He proudly told me that the trick to running a fish stall in the capital—where plenty of customers came from places nowhere near the sea—was knowing how to describe your goods well enough to sell fish to people who’d never even seen the ocean.

At the produce stalls, the vegetables were far more vividly colored than anything I’d ever seen at a Japanese supermarket, piled high alongside heaps of fresh fruit. Like some open-air market I’d once seen on TV, the vegetables and fruit were simply laid out on wooden shelves, uncovered.

Every so often, a shopkeeper would use magic to spray a fine mist from their hand to keep the vegetables fresh. Some tomato-looking vegetable, glistening with that magically applied moisture, looked absolutely delicious.

The trouble was, every time I so much as peeked into a shop, someone would practically shove food into my hands for me to sample. It reminded me oddly of the candied-chestnut vendors from a Chinatown I’d visited once. Since I can’t say no, I kept nibbling on whatever was offered until I was completely full before I’d even had lunch. …And I’d been so looking forward to the street food, too. I really wish I could curse my own inability to turn people down.

The butcher’s stalls were shocking in their own way.

Freshly slaughtered chickens hung out front, alongside some pig-like creature sporting bizarre horns. Something furry peered out at me from inside a basket. Unidentifiable purple carcasses hung on display.

…Honestly, if Jade hadn’t been there, I might not have been able to go anywhere near it. The butcher’s row was probably the most chaotic section of the whole market. From somewhere in the back, I could hear the cries of what were presumably future products, along with the thud, thud of a blade coming down—I couldn’t help wincing.

…I decided then that when it came to buying meat, it might be best to just rely on Prince Cain’s help.

Past the section crowded with butchers and produce stalls, the road gradually gave way to more street vendors simply laying out cloths directly on the ground to sell their wares. Peeking at one, I found herbs and potions of various kinds laid out. That whole section, dense with apothecary vendors, carried a strange scent reminiscent of Chinese herbal medicine.

The stalls were lined with colorful bottles whose effects I couldn’t even guess, while thick green smoke billowed from incense burners placed on the ground, and a seemingly unbothered apothecary beside them casually puffed on a water pipe.

In the middle of all that, I spotted a shady-looking merchant selling pungent spices and herbs. Watching closely, I noticed people who looked like apothecaries buying from him—he seemed to be selling raw materials for the potions they made. Looking even more carefully, mixed in among the spices and herbs, I spotted what looked like charred, blackened lizard and some kind of eyeball. …Were they meant to be brewed into something? Imagining a situation where I’d have to drink that if I ever fell ill, I resolved right then to do everything in my power to avoid getting sick or injured in this world.

The ingredients of this other world ranged from things I’d never seen before to things familiar from my own world. And even the ones that looked like ingredients I already knew often turned out to be something else entirely—it was one surprise after another.

For instance, cracking open a fruit that looked like a netted melon on the outside might reveal something more like a watermelon inside. Even something as simple as fruit hid surprises everywhere, exciting enough that I could have watched forever.

But while it was fun just to look, from the standpoint of someone actually shopping for ingredients as a cook, it was rather troublesome. Even if I had something in mind to make, not knowing what the ingredients actually were made things needlessly difficult.

What my sister wanted, after all, was strictly "food from our original world." Recreating that with these tricky, unfamiliar otherworldly ingredients wasn’t going to be simple. But I had exactly one method—something you could call my secret weapon.

I planted myself in front of a produce stall and looked over the shelves, where an unfamiliar fruit caught my eye.

“Akane, your hand.”

Jade said this and held his hand out toward me. I glanced back and forth between his large hand and his face, and let out a small sigh.

I gently placed my hand on his, doing my best not to look directly at him, and focused instead on the fruit in front of me.

Then, gradually, I felt something warm flowing into me from Jade’s hand. It spread out from my palm through my whole body, slowly seeping through my veins. The sensation of it flowing through me felt so pleasant that I couldn’t help but close my eyes and savor it for a moment.

After a while, once I felt it had spread thoroughly enough throughout my body, it was time for my secret weapon to come into play. I had to say a certain word, quietly, trying not to draw too much attention.

“Appraisal.”

At that, a strange black window-like display appeared in my field of vision, offering all kinds of information about the fruit.

…Something like this, for example:

Licorice Berry

A berry harvested during the winter-to-spring snowmelt season.

The small red berries are high in sugar content and are commonly used in juices. In the snowy northern regions, people dig licorice berries out from beneath the snow each spring to celebrate its arrival.

Sugared, preserved versions are a popular wedding gift.

The taste is similar to Earth’s “blueberry.”

This was magic.

And, apparently, a rare kind of magic that only people summoned from outside this world could use.

According to my sister, it’s the sort of magic that tends to come standard with these "isekai trip" situations—simply channeling magical power and saying "Appraisal" lets you investigate pretty much anything in this world.

And, as if that weren’t convenient enough, it even explained what the thing resembled in my original world.

Honestly, when I first learned about it, I inwardly scoffed at what a suspiciously convenient piece of magic it was. But I couldn’t underestimate how useful it was. In a world overrun with watermelons disguised as melons, there’s nothing more useful for actually cooking something edible. In fact, without it, finding the ingredients I actually want would be next to impossible.

…So yes, there was no reason not to use it. Nothing this convenient existed anywhere else. That much I understood, at least in my head.

Having finished appraising the licorice berry, I suddenly felt a gaze on me and turned to look at the man standing right beside me.

“…”

“…”

There was Jade, beaming a bright, delighted smile, watching me with obvious enjoyment.

Our eyes met, and yet somehow, neither of us said a word.

Jade just kept smiling, radiant as ever.

I, meanwhile, had my eyebrows twitching, forcing an awkward smile.

…There was that difference between us, at least.

“The appraisal is finished! Well then, shall we move on to the next one?”

“Right. Let’s go.”

“…Mr. Jade. Are you not going to let go of my hand?”

“We’re appraising more things after this, right?”

“Well, I mean, yes, that’s true. But you don’t have to keep holding on the whole time. I mean, look, it must be a bother for you too, right?”

“I really don’t mind.”

“No, I mean—”

“I don’t mind.”

“…”

Using magic required magical power, and unlike my sister, I didn’t have particularly high magical power—I’m pretty average, spec-wise. But Appraisal magic required a fair amount of magical power, so at my level, I simply didn’t have nearly enough to use it repeatedly in a row.

So Jade, my guard knight who could also use magic, had agreed to lend me some of his magical power.

I was grateful for that. I really was. But—

…According to Jade, transferring magical power requires holding hands. Well, it’s also possible to do it by standing behind me and placing a hand on my back, but for some reason, he always insisted on holding hands instead. With that same smile of his, he claimed that this was the most efficient method and squeezed my hand firmly.

If that was really how it had to be… fine, I could put up with it. But every single time, once I finished an appraisal and looked over at Jade, he was watching me with an unmistakably delighted expression.

This guy is definitely enjoying teasing me, isn’t he!?

With his honey-colored eyes narrowed at me like that, he practically radiated enjoyment at my reactions. …I couldn’t just let that slide.

I shot Jade a sharp glare.

“…Mr. Jade. I still don’t buy it. The reason you say we have to hold hands.”

“Huh?”

“Now then! Explain your reasoning to me clearly, in forty characters or less, so I can actually be convinced!”

“F-Forty…?”

“Yes! Within ten seconds! Ten! Nine—”

“…Wait, wait, wait…? Akane, hold on a second!”

“Eight—”

“Waaaait!”

Jade, thoroughly flustered by my sudden demand, ended up clutching his head in his hands. Seeing him like that, I couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. Realizing from my laughter that he’d been the one being teased all along, Jade went limp, muttering, "Please, have mercy.”

Satisfied at having gotten a little payback with a method straight out of an elementary school playground, I threw myself energetically into buying up everything I needed after that.

Thanks to that, I think I managed to gather pretty much everything necessary.

—Now then, tonight’s dinner will be my sister’s favorite.

Looking over the ingredients I’d bought, I imagined how happy my sister would be, and couldn’t help but let my cheeks relax into a smile.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

By the time we got back from the market, the sun had already sunk about halfway down, and the sky was starting to turn deep amber. There wasn’t much time before dinner. I changed out of the unfamiliar otherworld clothes and into my usual outfit, then got straight to cooking.

I put on my cream-colored apron with its cute little embroidered bird—a gift from my sister on my birthday when she was ten, and one of my favorites to wear.

Jade followed me into the kitchen as if it were only natural, so I figured I’d have him help again, and pulled out my late grandfather’s old navy-blue apron to hand to him.

“…What’s this?”

“Um… I was hoping you might help me again this time, if you don’t mind… Is that all right?”

Jade’s eyes went a little wide at my words for a moment, but then he smiled slightly and put the apron on. With it worn over his silver armor, the whole effect was strangely lumpy and odd.

I couldn’t help but grin at the sight, and Jade, noticing his own appearance, looked himself over and then, for whatever reason, struck a sharp pose.

“Well? Suits me, doesn’t it?”

…I burst out laughing on the spot.

“Y-Yes… the apron and the armor look very good together…?”

“Right?”

Jade grinned back, showing his white teeth. Once our eyes met, the laughter only grew, and neither of us could stop for a while.

…Oh, right, I don’t have time for this. Let’s quit fooling around and get dinner started.

I spread out the ingredients I’d bought across the kitchen table in a heap, put my hands on my hips, and looked them over.

Today’s Ingredients:

Bacon

Onion

Rice brought over from our original world

Fresh eggs collected from the chickens that morning

Corn

Potatoes

Milk

Ketchup

Salt, a pinch of pepper

Tonight’s menu: omurice and corn soup. Since this was my first time making dinner after coming to another world, I decided to make my sister’s favorite dishes.

No salad tonight, since fresh raw vegetables weren’t in season at the market.

At our house, omurice was traditionally made with bacon ketchup rice rather than chicken rice. I know some people insist it has to be chicken rice or nothing, but my mother always used bacon, and I love the bacon-and-ketchup combination too, so that’s always what I make.

According to Appraisal, the bacon I’d bought was made from the meat of a pig-like monster called an orc. Apparently, orcs were humanoid monsters with pig heads. Appraisal, really… did you need to tell me that part? Couldn’t you have left that out? I don’t think "things that kill your appetite" needed to be included…

Genuinely unnerved, wondering exactly which "humanoid" part this was, I asked, and the butcher kindly explained it was the soft, fatty belly portion. Apparently, orcs have little muscle there, so the bacon comes out with a sweet, delicious fat.

…I didn’t hear anything. I didn’t check with Appraisal! This is just… meat…! For the sake of my own peace of mind, I decided to believe that.

Still, the marbling of red meat to white fat on that bacon was genuinely gorgeous—the kind of bacon that looked absolutely delicious as long as you didn’t think too hard about it.

…As it turned out, orc meat was actually considered a delicacy here. Oh my gosh.

The onions and potatoes looked no different from the ones back home. Except they grow on trees here. Didn’t you two miss the soil?

The most interesting find was the corn. I’d wanted fresh corn, but figured it was hopeless since it’s a summer vegetable… and yet, at a shop dealing in grains, I found kernels gleaming gold. Dried corn. My shoulders sagged for a second, but when I asked the shopkeeper, it turned out that soaking this particular corn in water instantly restores it to a fresh, plump state.

I couldn’t wait to see how that worked.

I rolled up my sleeves and psyched myself up. …Alright, let’s get started!

First up was prepping the rice. Put the rice in a strainer and rinsed it under the tap water. Since this was easy enough, I decided to leave it to Jade. He carefully measured out the rice, poured it into the strainer, and ran water over it.

“Whoa, the water’s turned cloudy white.”

“Just give it a light rinse. You don’t need to scrub it hard or anything.”

You just swirl the rice gently with your fingertips under running water and lift it out of the water. Modern rice-polishing technology meant you didn’t need to rinse it thoroughly anymore, so one more quick pass and it was done.

—Right, I should mention: our house, transported along with us into this world, somehow still had functioning gas, water, and electricity. The robed old men present at the summoning gave some long, complicated explanation about it at the time. Whatever the reason, I was certainly grateful. I’d have been in real trouble if I’d been told to start a fire with firewood and charcoal to cook every meal.

By the way, this rice was what we already had at home. I’d wandered all over the market today looking for rice, but couldn’t find anything close to what we’re used to. I did find a long-grain rice that looked like Thai rice, so I bought some just in case… but if our usual rice runs out before I can find a substitute, I can already picture Hiyori having an absolute meltdown. Terrifying to even think about. I really need to find some way to secure proper rice here.

Once the rice was rinsed, I adjusted the water level slightly less than usual, for a firmer texture suited to omurice. Watching Jade stare down the measuring cup with such intense concentration, I couldn’t help but be impressed by how earnest he was about it. Then I flipped the switch on the rice cooker. Now all that was left was to wait for it to finish.

Next came prepping the other ingredients.

I sliced the bacon into strips about five millimeters thick.

A little on the thicker side is the secret to good flavor.

I peeled the onions—thinly sliced for the soup, finely diced for the omurice.

By the way, I always chill onions in the refrigerator before cutting them. Apparently that keeps your eyes from stinging… at least that’s what I heard once, and I’ve done it ever since. Even so, I was afraid that my eyes would start burning if I took too long, so it was best to work as quickly as possible.

Tap, tap, tap—the rhythmic sound of the knife hitting the cutting board echoed through the kitchen.

Then I heard a small sniffle.

Startled, I glanced over—and found Jade, eyes bright red and welling with tears.

“W-Why does this make you cry so much…?”

“Oh… I’m so sorry.”

For some reason, the onions had completely gotten the better of Jade. Tears kept rolling down from his honey-colored eyes, and just watching him made my own chest ache a little. It felt like I was the one who’d made him cry, which made me feel awful.

I hurriedly wet a hand towel and handed it to him.

—Right, I’ll have Jade peel the potatoes instead.

I pressed a peeler and a potato into his hands. Better to put some distance between him and the onions until his eyes settled down.

“Jade, would you peel these for me?”

“…What is this?”

Jade sniffled a bit while staring intently at the peeler.

“It’s a magic item that lets anyone peel vegetables easily.”

“Oh! A magical tool from your world!”

—No, it’s not.

Right, I forgot—this really is a world where magic actually exists.

If I joke around calling something "magic," people here take it seriously. Thinking that, I explained to Jade that it was just an ordinary tool and showed him how to use it.

Explaining properly mattered, since holding a peeler the wrong way can result in a nasty scrape! straight across your hand—a real disaster.

Something about the unfamiliar tool seemed to spark Jade’s curiosity, and his eyes lit up as he slowly began peeling the potatoes. Every so often he’d let out a small, admiring "Ohh…" which was honestly quite endearing to watch.

While keeping half an eye on him, I got out a strainer to rehydrate that corn.

Its appearance was exactly like ordinary dried corn—the kind you’d look at and think about popping in a pan for popcorn.

Excited, I filled a bowl with water, put the corn in the strainer, and gently submerged it.

Fsssh! Pop, pop, pop!

“Whoa.”

In an instant, the water in the bowl got sucked straight into the kernels. The dried kernels plumped right up, turning glossy and vibrant as if freshly harvested!

…Otherworld ingredients are amazing! So bizarre!

I pulled one out to test and pressed it with my finger—it had the same springy give as truly fresh corn. Popping it gently into my mouth, juice burst out with an intense sweetness, almost like a high-sugar fruit.

—This would make incredible corn tempura fritters. With salt, of course! I could just imagine biting into one, piping hot and crisply fried, huffing between bites. And of course, paired with some chilled dry sake! Gulp, gulp.

It was so delicious that my thoughts had immediately wandered toward an evening drink. Probably because I hadn’t had a proper drink since arriving here. My mouth watered, and just thinking about dry sake made me swallow hard.

—Ah, the instincts of a drinker. Hold it together for now.

I let out a breath and rallied my willpower, steeling myself to get back to cooking. …Fantasizing about drinks is dangerous territory for a drinker like me. At this rate I’d end up wanting to drink tonight for sure.

I rinsed the now-plump, glossy corn once more under running water. Some I set aside for the soup, the rest I kept ready beside the pot.

“I’m done! How’s this, Akane?”

Just then, Jade—having finally finished peeling the potatoes—proudly held one out to me. "Not bad for my first try, huh?" he said, puffing out his chest like a little kid.

Thanks to the peeler, the potatoes had come out smooth and pure white. He had peeled them very neatly. “Well, of course—that’s what the peeler’s for!” …I kept that mean thought to myself and instead praised him. “You’re really good! I can’t believe this is your first time!”

At that, Jade’s face lit up about twenty percent happier than usual, his ears turning slightly red. He’s technically older than me, if I remember right, but he looked so unbelievably cute just then that I had to look away to hide the smile tugging at my mouth.

There’s something oddly soothing about seeing a grown man display such innocent, unguarded delight.

I sliced the potatoes Jade had peeled thinly so they’d cook faster, set a pot on the stove, and dropped in a pat of butter.

Once the butter started sizzling, I added the onion, careful not to let the butter burn. I sautéed it until it turned soft and glossy, then added the potatoes. Once everything was well coated in butter, I added the corn and continued cooking.

The pale yellow kernels turned a beautiful golden color as they cooked through. The nutty aroma of butter mixed with the sweet smell of sautéing onion tickled my nose. Honestly, it looked delicious enough to eat just as it was, with a little salt and pepper.

Once everything was cooked through enough, I added water until it just covered the ingredients, then added consommé. I let it simmer until the potatoes turned soft.

“So it’s called corn soup, but there’s potato in it?”

“Hmm, I guess most versions don’t usually include it, but our family’s does. The kind you’d get at a restaurant probably wouldn’t have it.”

It’s true—even setting the onion aside, potato in a "corn" soup is a bit odd when you think about it. Personally, I prefer it with potato. Corn alone feels too thin to me—I like using potato to give it that thick, velvety texture.

I could add heavy cream for richness, but between not wanting the extra fat—a maiden’s concerns about calories, you know—and not wanting to spend money on cream that’s surprisingly pricey even in small amounts, potato wins out every time. The finished result comes out quite thick and rich, so I’d recommend it to anyone who likes their soup on the heartier side.

After a while, once the potatoes had softened, I turned off the heat and let it cool for a bit.

…Alright, it should be about time.

Thinking that, I strained my ears toward the front door. And then—

Bam, bam, bam!

—a set of noisy footsteps came rushing toward us.

“Big siiister! I’m hooome! I’m starving!”

“Hey now, Hiyori, don’t slam the door open like that! Wash your hands and gargle the second you’re home! And go change your clothes!”

“Your adorable little sister comes home, and the first thing I get is a lecture? Are you my mom or something?”

“No, I’m your sister.”

“Then as an older sister, you should be spoiling me!”

“Yes, yes, good giiirl. Now hurry up and go change and wash your hands!”

“You’re so cold, big sister!”

My sister, arriving in her usual whirlwind of noise, complained shrilly at me the whole way before vanishing into her room in no time at all.

I let that whole exchange wash over me without even looking her way, cracking eggs one after another into a bowl.

“Um…”

Then, an unfamiliar voice spoke up nearby.

Hm? Puzzled, I turned toward the door—and there stood Prince Cain. Jade seemed to have already noticed him and had stepped aside to make room, waiting a little ways off.

Prince Cain, looking thoroughly uncomfortable, let his eyes wander around before saying, hesitantly:

“Should I… wash my hands too, perhaps?”

—Was I supposed to escort him to the washroom, then?

My mind went a little blank with confusion, and I found myself frozen in place.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

…Just imagine it.

A blond, blue-eyed, drop-dead-gorgeous prince, sitting in a tatami-floored living room that reeks of old Shōwa-era.

…Talk about mismatched. So mismatched it was actually starting to give me a headache.

By the way, the bathroom situation had already resolved itself—my sister had changed out of her clothes quickly and come back down to show Prince Cain to the washroom herself.

Peeking out from the kitchen at Prince Cain, seated on the living room sofa sipping tea, I whispered a question to Jade:

“Jade… does the fact that the prince showed up at this hour mean he’s planning to eat dinner here?”

“…Probably. There are serving maids here as well, and it looks like there are more than twice the usual number of soldiers guarding the house right now…”

Jolted by Jade’s words, I peeked from the kitchen down the hallway and spotted three young women in maid uniforms standing silently in a row.

Seeing maids standing there in that dim, wood-paneled hallway—which also had that unmistakable old Shōwa vibe—struck me as oddly funny for some reason.

Then I peeked out the kitchen window and saw the security outside looking more intense than usual. One of the intimidating-looking soldiers must have felt my gaze, because he suddenly turned and our eyes met. …I forced an awkward smile and gave him a little wave, then quickly stopped looking out the window.

—Uh oh. Is this turning into a much bigger deal than I thought?

Ever since our parents died, I’d handled the housework and cooking for my sister’s sake, but that was strictly amateur-level. It wasn’t as though I was some incredible chef. My cooking was nothing more than ordinary homemade food.

And now a maid was going to serve my omurice to a prince…?

“Jade. Feeding royalty… my cooking… are you serious right now? You’re joking, right? Can I run away?”

“I completely understand the feeling. Really. But running away is out of the question.”

Jade cut me off with a smile.

Just as I hit peak despair, the rice cooker’s beep chimed with truly impeccable timing.

Even as my mind spun in circles looking for any possible escape route, my body dragged itself, without my permission, toward the rice cooker announcing it was done. I popped the lid open, and a puff of white steam rose up, revealing glossy, pure white rice.

—Looking good.

My stomach gave a small growl. Maybe from the morning market trip, but I was starving. Even in a situation like this, my stomach growling anyway was kind of infuriating.

…Fine! I just had to do this!

I gave up on the idea of escaping and quickly stirred the fluffy cooked rice with a rice paddle, portioning out what I needed into a bowl.

—I’d leave the corn soup to Jade… The shock from the prince was still affecting me. If I handled it while this rattled, I felt like I might end up spilling the whole thing on the floor.

The simmered ingredients had cooled down just enough by then. I asked Jade to transfer the contents of the pot into the blender. Once again, faced with this newly-appeared mysterious device called a "blender," Jade’s curiosity was fully piqued.

While he stared intently at the blender, I quietly plugged it into the outlet and beckoned him over with a little wave.

…Time for a little mischief.

Jade approached me with a puzzled look, completely unaware of what I had in mind. With a mischievous grin, I deliberately said nothing and pressed the switch.

Vrrrooom!

“Whoa!?”

Startled, Jade flinched and immediately reached for the sword at his hip, and I flinched right back in response.

Please, no drawing swords…!

“Was that wind magic just now…!? Did you make it activate only inside that little jar…!?”

“No, no, that’s not it!”

He’d mistaken it for a magic tool again. I calmed him down as he continued eyeing the blender warily and explained that it wasn’t magic—it ran on electricity. When he tried to reinterpret it as "Oh, so it was lightning magic!" I hurriedly corrected him.

He looked like he half understood and half didn’t, but at least he seemed to grasp that pressing the button pulverized whatever was inside.

I let out a breath. Cold sweat trickled down my forehead and back. …Note to self: don’t casually prank someone who’s carrying a weapon. I’d just gotten a little wiser.

While I wiped the sweat off my forehead, Jade timidly pressed the button again and again, flinching each time the blender roared to life, but clearly enjoying himself despite it all.

After running the blender until the contents had turned reasonably smooth, it should be strained through a fine-mesh sieve. Since Jade had already done straining work with the tea strainer during the pudding-making, he handled it with practiced ease. Just like with the pudding, this wasn’t a step to cut corners on—straining it carefully was the key to that silky-smooth texture. Unfortunately, we don’t actually have a proper fine strainer at home. I found myself thinking, a little too late, that I should’ve bought one.

After straining it several times, I transferred it to a small pot, warming it while thinning it out with milk. Since the potatoes made it quite thick, I had to be careful of scorching—but as long as I stirred it carefully with a wooden spatula, it wouldn’t burn.

Once it had loosened to a good consistency, I added the reserved corn kernels, seasoned with salt and pepper, and brought it to one quick boil. A sprinkle of dried parsley on top when serving, if desired. …And with that, the corn soup was complete.

Tasting it, the sweetness of the corn spread softly through my mouth—I think it turned out pretty well.

I portioned some into a small dish for Jade to try, and the moment it touched his mouth, his eyes went wide. His cheeks relaxed slowly, his whole face practically saying “delicious” without a word.

Seeing that made me so happy, I quietly pumped my fist where he couldn’t see.

All that was left now was finishing the omurice.

I dropped the bacon into a heated frying pan.

Once a little smoke started rising, the delicious fat began seeping out, filling the kitchen with the wonderful smell of bacon cooking. Once enough fat had rendered out, I set the bacon aside temporarily. You don’t want it too crispy—since it ends up mixed with soft rice in the end, texture matters.

Using that rich, bacon-flavored fat, I sautéed the onion until soft, then added the bacon back in.

I gave the glossy onion and fragrant bacon a couple of stirs, pushed them to one side of the pan, and poured ketchup into the empty space. The ketchup soon began bubbling vigorously. Heating it drove off some of its moisture and concentrated the flavor. It also reduced the acidity, so it was a win-win.

I mixed in some granulated consommé and a bit of sugar to taste into the reduced ketchup. My sister liked her food on the sweeter side, so the sugar was non-negotiable. All that remained was to mix the ingredients and rice with the ketchup and stir-fry it briefly.

And there it was—glossy, moist, brilliant red bacon-and-ketchup rice. Anyone brave enough not to worry about calories could throw in a pat of butter here too.

Now, the crucial part: the eggs.

Today’s omurice would be wrapped in the classic thin-sheet omelette style.

Sure, the kind where you slice it open with a knife, and the runny egg oozes out dramatically is nice too, but I was deliberately going with the standard version this time. Because the runny kind has a low success rate.

I’m honestly not the most dexterous person. If I tried to show off and ended up botching it, that would be unbearable to witness. I’ve already trained my sister to think of the runny kind as "restaurant food," so there shouldn’t be any complaints. And no, I don’t need any sympathy for that, thank you…

I dropped a pat of butter into the pan, keeping the heat low the entire time. Before it got too hot, I gently poured in the eggs.

The butter sizzled and released a lovely aroma as it reacted with the eggs. Once the eggs started to set, I stirred them briskly with cooking chopsticks. Then I tilted and swirled the pan to spread the eggs out into a round shape. The key is gathering a slightly thicker mass of scrambled egg in the center, with the edges thinning out toward the rim.

Once the outside had crisped up nicely and the center was still just slightly runny, I placed a single portion of the ketchup rice right in the middle.

I folded the near and far edges of the eggs over the rice, wrapping it up, then tilted the frying pan away from me.

Finally, I flipped the pan right over onto the waiting flat plate with a light plop.

The flipped-over omurice came out in a lovely, clean oval shape.

At this point, the important thing was to pretend not to notice the gaze of a professional housewife who would normally tap the handle of the frying pan to shape it perfectly.

In the end, all that matters is that it looks nice.

…And no, I don’t need any sympathy for that either…

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

“Huh? Where’d the maids go?”

Once the food was ready, I peeked into the living room and noticed the maids—who’d been giving off such a jarring vibe—were nowhere to be found. I checked the hallway and the entryway; no sign of them. All that remained were my sister and Prince Cain relaxing on the sofa, and our dachshund Leon. The sofa, incidentally, was just sitting directly on the tatami mats.

“I sent them away. This is my house. I don’t need all that fussy formal serving stuff.”

Something about my sister’s eyes as she said that was a little scary.

Clearly, she’d had some thoughts of her own about the matter. Prince Cain looked over at her with a wry smile.

…Probably best not to dig into that any further.

“…Oh, okay. Well, whatever. Dinner’s ready, so come help carry it over.”

“Okaaay. C’mon, Cain, why are you still sitting there? Let’s go.”

“Wh—me too!?”

“Obviously. As I said, this is my house. If you’re gonna be here, you follow our house rules! C’mon, c’mon, c’mon! Up! Get up!”

With that, my sister gave Prince Cain’s rear a light kick to get him moving. At that shocking sight, I nearly rolled my eyes back into my skull. My sister’s outrageous behavior made my blood run cold. Jade’s face had gone pale too.

But amid our flustered panic—waaah, waaah!—Prince Cain, though looking a bit troubled, simply went along with what she said. "Honestly, Hiyori’s hopeless," he muttered, though he actually looked a little pleased about it. …Wait, is Prince Cain used to this? Has my sister been treating royalty like this the entire time we’ve been in this world?

—Did I raise my sister wrooong!?

I ended up crouching down with my head in my hands, and someone gently patted me on the back to comfort me. How kind. But this was really my own fault. Thank you… With that thought, I turned around and found the innocent face of our dog, asking for its dinner.

…Darn dog.

Once everything was served, the low table held a beautifully golden, butter-glossy omurice, alongside a bowl of silky corn soup. The moment the dishes were laid out, the whole living room filled with a mouthwatering aroma.

My sister, already seated, stared at the food with sparkling eyes.

…Now then, time to eat! Just as we were about to start, a problem arose. Jade tried to get up from his seat. According to him, "It would be far too presumptuous to share a table with royalty." But that was shot down immediately—because house rules applied. “Meals are meant to be eaten together!” my sister declared with a smug look, while Jade sat there looking rather uncomfortable. …Honestly, I could understand him. If I had to eat alongside the royalty of my own country, I’d want to pass, too.

Meanwhile, oblivious to Jade’s discomfort, Prince Cain was examining the omurice from every angle, clearly fascinated.

He also seemed delighted at the novelty of eating while sitting on the floor! Well, sure, it is a low table… though at least we’d properly set out the fluffy guest cushions, so I’d like to believe that counted for something.

“Alright, itadakimasu!”

My sister declared this cheerfully, then plunged her spoon energetically into the soup bowl and took a mouthful.

“Mmmm! So sweet! This corn’s really sweet! It’s like there’s sugar in it.”

The illustration’s description: Hiyori is rushing the prince.

“There’s no sugar in it. If anything, what’s in there is salt.”

“That just means the corn itself is that sweet, then! I love how rich this corn soup you make is, big sister!”

Watching my sister happily spoon down soup after soup, clearly enjoying every bite, made all the effort feel worth it.

Glancing beside me, I noticed Jade also watching her with a pleased expression. This was a dish he’d helped make, after all—no wonder he felt a certain sense of accomplishment.

When our eyes met, I gave him a small thumbs-up. Then the two of us shared a quiet, mischievous little grin.

Since I couldn’t just keep watching my sister forever, I brought a spoonful of soup to my own mouth as well.

The moment it hit my tongue, I was startled by how sweet it was. As my sister said, it really did taste like there was sugar in it. But unlike sugar, that sweetness had a gentle, natural quality without any heaviness to it.

After a moment, that sweetness gave way to butter, leaving me wanting another bite.

Unable to resist, I took another spoonful.

Thanks to the potatoes, the texture was quite rich and thick. Velvety and heavy, it felt more like chewing than drinking. The occasional burst of a corn kernel added a fun little pop here and there.

“This soup really is delicious. …So this is the flavor you love so much, Hiyori.”

“Yup! Everything big sister makes is delicious, though! Here, try the omurice too, try it!”

“Sure.”

There was something gentle in the way Prince Cain looked at the soup. Following my sister’s urging, he picked up his spoon, scooped up a bite of omurice, and brought it to his mouth.

“Rice… is that what it’s called? First time I’ve had it, but each individual grain has the savoriness of the bacon fat and the tang of the red sauce woven through it… Yes, this is delicious too. The eggs mellow out the slightly bold seasoning. And the butter’s aroma is lovely.”

“Right!? Using bacon instead of chicken is our family’s special twist—it’s got that nice smoky flavor, I love it! Oh, and the red stuff is called ketchup, by the way!”

Listening to the two of them talk, I took a bite of the omurice myself.

The eggs, cooked a little thicker in the center, were slightly runny there, blending deliciously with the sweet-tangy bacon-ketchup rice.

As I savored the rich, moist rice, every so often I’d hit a piece of bacon. Even after being cooked down with some of the fat rendered out, it still held plenty of flavor, giving a burst of rich meatiness with every bite. Cut a little thick, it had a satisfying chew to it. I found myself unconsciously hunting for the next piece of bacon as I ate. Finding one always made me a little happy.

—Yeah, this turned out really well.

“Ketchup, you say… is it a condiment from your world? Seems like it’d go well with both meat and vegetables.”

“Don’t you have tomatoes here?”

“Hm? Ah, so this is a condiment made from tomatoes.”

“Yup! This one’s store-bought, but the homemade ketchup my sister makes is really good too!”

While they chatted away, before I knew it, every single plate had been emptied.

My sister was even saying, "I could eat a little more." I told her, "Eat too much, and you’ll get fat," though seeing her so satisfied warmed my chest all the same.

After the meal, I prepared green tea for everyone. Green tea seemed to be unusual here as well, and Prince Cain was quite surprised when I told him it came from the same kind of leaves as black tea.

The hot green tea suited the still-chilly season perfectly, and I savored the warmth by wrapping both hands around the cup.

Sipping the tea with a little slurp cleared my palate wonderfully. There’s nothing quite like this after a meal, I thought contentedly.

As I sat there enjoying the moment, Prince Cain set down his empty cup and suddenly looked straight at my sister and me, bowing his head.

“Thank you for the meal today. And… please, let me apologize.”

“Huh?”

The sudden shift to such a solemn atmosphere made my face stiffen involuntarily.

—Royalty apologizing… isn’t that kind of a huge deal!?

Startled, I glanced around. My sister had pulled her knees up to her chest and looked unusually subdued, while Jade sat with his head lowered slightly, listening intently and solemnly.

“We summoned you both to this world for our own convenience, and in doing so, placed an enormous burden on you, Hiyori. We forced our own circumstances onto you and drove you to your limit. I truly am sorry.”

After saying that, Prince Cain turned to me.

“And you as well. Confining you to the detached palace for our own convenience, and then asking you to cook in an unfamiliar world on top of that—adding even more burden onto you—there’s really no excuse for how presumptuous that was. But I want to protect this kingdom. To purify the rapidly growing miasma, we need Hiyori’s power… Please, forgive our selfishness.”

“…”

My sister stayed silent.

I couldn’t find the words to respond right away either.

Prince Cain’s eyes were earnest, and every word he spoke seemed steeped in sincerity and resolve.

As royalty, protecting the kingdom and its people is simply what’s expected of them. Great responsibility always follows those in positions of royalty. The lives of tens of thousands of citizens depend on it. To protect that, they probably can’t afford to hesitate over what needs to be done.

His words were correct. For this world, at least, surely they were.

—But from our perspective, the ones caught up in all this?

From the perspective of people who had their entire lives suddenly upended and taken from them, forced into an unfamiliar life in another world?

It would be easy enough to forgive him and the people who summoned us.

But purifying the miasma came with real danger. My sister was desperately studying and training right now to prepare for it. At the very least, it was an extremely high-risk situation for us.

My carefree sister—who I hadn’t seen cry in years, whose only real strength was her endless energy—had been pushed to the point of breaking down in tears in front of me. That alone spoke to how heavy a responsibility this was, and how painful.

…And besides, Hiyori was the one who would actually face the danger and endure the hardship. All I could do was wait.

I was the one who had raised my sister in place of our parents. She was precious to me, my beloved little sister. I didn’t want her to do anything dangerous. That was what I truly felt.

But because I had been her stand-in parent, I knew something else too.

“Cain. Cain, you’re so serious. So seriously serious it’s almost dumb.”

My sister said this, her voice trembling.

“…It’s my own fault I pushed myself too hard and hit my limit. If there’s something only I can do, then I think I should do it. I’ll keep working hard at the studying and the training. If you think that makes you selfish, Cain, then just make sure you protect me properly, so nothing bad happens. …As long as I get to eat my sister’s cooking, I’ll be back to a hundred percent, ready to keep working hard!”

By the end, my sister was sniffling, but she said it all firmly anyway, then turned away, refusing to look at anyone.

—Yeah. That’s my sister for you.

Even when our parents and grandparents died, even while I was the one sobbing uncontrollably, she was the one who silently hugged me tight and comforted me. She had always been that strong.

My adorable little sister—my precious, precious little sister—wasn’t the kind of person who would lose sight of what she needed to do, even from the biased perspective of the sister who had raised her. And once she decided to do something, she would see it through no matter what. That was the kind of girl she was.

So I would do what I had always done.

“My sister’s right. Until now, I’ve been pretty useless. I can’t contribute directly to this world the way my sister can, as the Saint. But you’ve given me something I can do, and a reason to cook. …So I’ll do my absolute best here, making delicious meals to support my sister.”

I’ll do what I can, here in this house, for my sister. Protecting her place to belong—that’s all I need to do.

“Prince Cain, please take good care of my sister.”

I said this with a smile, and Prince Cain narrowed his eyes as if looking at something dazzling, then smiled softly back at me.

“…Of course. I swear I will protect Hiyori with everything I have.”

Prince Cain bowed deeply to us at the front door before departing, saying:

“I think I understand now why Hiyori loves your cooking so much. I could feel your kindness in every single dish. …I hope you’ll let me have another meal here again sometime.”

And with that, he left.

While I was washing the dishes afterward, my sister suddenly came up from behind and hugged me tight, making me pause.

“…Big sister. Dinner was really good.”

“Yeah.”

“Make omurice again sometime.”

“Maybe I’ll do omurice with hashed beef next time.”

“…! I love you, big sister!”

I patted the thin arms wrapped around my waist.

Enjoying the warmth of my sister’s body against my back, I let my thoughts drift ahead to the near future—wondering what I should make tomorrow.

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