Library Date – 2

“Sip, oh my. Hoo… How can people eat this.”

Hestia urgently searched for milk. I handed her the milk that was placed next to me.

“Here.”

Hestia was in such a hurry that she didn’t even thank me and snatched the milk from my hand. She gulped down the milk. Her throat moved with each swallow of milk.

“Sip, ha… This is insane!”

Hestia still had her tongue out, panting, as if the spiciness hadn’t subsided even after drinking milk. The area around her lips was quite swollen, suggesting it was quite stimulating for her.

“But it’s delicious, isn’t it?”

“It’s not that it doesn’t taste good, but whew… I can finally breathe a bit. It certainly has flavor, but it’s too stimulating.”

Hestia finally seemed to have calmed down a bit, speaking normally without making sipping sounds. Indeed, for Hestia, who has likely never eaten such spicy food in her life, this is excessively stimulating. This is also my first time having such spicy food since coming to this world. On Earth, I think I used to eat spicy food almost every other day.

“I thought you said you could handle spicy food.”

“There’s a limit!”

When I had asked earlier if she could handle spicy food, she had confidently claimed that she was good with spicy food. When I mentioned this fact, she finished the remaining milk and glared at me. The redness around her lips still makes her look quite in pain. The spicy food she had in mind was probably something just a bit tangy with some garlic.

“How are you completely fine eating this, Mikhail?”

“I’m really good with spicy food.”

Well, that’s because I ate plenty of it while in Korea. I thought this as I picked up and ate a piece of the bright red dakgalbi in front of me.

Yes, there was even a dakgalbi restaurant in this suspiciously diverse shopping district. According to the server, it’s an exotic food that came from the Eastern Continent, to which I just nodded along thinking, “So that’s the setting.” Since this novel was written by a Korean, Korean elements pop up in the strangest places. The author must have thought introducing kimchi, a fermented food, would be a bit much, as there was no kimchi. A romance fantasy protagonist tearing apart kimchi—just the thought is bizarre.

“And you’re suspiciously good at using these ‘chopsticks’ too.”

“It just worked when I tried?”

Hestia looked at my chopstick skills with amazement. Of course I’m good with utensils I’ve used all my life. In fact, I’m much more comfortable and skilled with these than with knife and fork. Hestia puffed her cheeks at my half-hearted answer.

“I found it difficult and couldn’t manage.”

She picked up the chopsticks, positioned them between her fingers, and made a few attempts. Chopsticks are indeed a challenging tool for someone encountering them for the first time. The restaurant seemed aware of this fact and provided forks as well. In fact, looking around the entire restaurant, I was the only one using chopsticks. Hestia too had initially tried hard to use chopsticks, but after dropping meat right in front of her mouth a few times, she just switched to using a fork.

“You put them between your fingers like this, and then, yes, move your index and middle finger like this…”

“Ah, I can’t do it!”

Hestia picked up the chopsticks again, tried using them the way I taught her a few times, but soon gave up and put them down. Then she picked up the fork placed right next to her, stabbed a piece of dakgalbi, and brought it to her mouth.

“This is much more convenient.”

“Not spicy?”

“I’ve adapted a bit now.”

Hestia did look more composed than before. When she first put the dakgalbi in her mouth, she almost cried and made a huge fuss. This bright red seasoning is quite stimulating for someone trying spicy food for the first time. Perhaps because of this, the restaurant provided milk in advance. I was impressed by their thorough preparation. Hestia, who had wondered why milk was needed with a meal, had long emptied her milk and even took mine to drink.

“It’s quite delicious apart from being a bit too spicy. I should come here with Cordelia sometime too.”

I imagined Cordelia going berserk, breathing fire after eating dakgalbi.

“Would that be okay?”

“What do you think Cordelia is?”

Hestia narrowed her eyes and glared at me.

Afterward, she adapted well and ate without showing much reaction to the spiciness, as she had boasted she would be fine. It seemed to suit her taste quite well, which made me relieved. Though I had chosen this menu as something that wouldn’t be too divisive when she said she wanted to try special food, I was still a bit worried, so I’m glad. Actually, the real challenge after eating spicy food is the next morning’s bathroom visit, but I didn’t make the mistake of mentioning that.

“That was delicious. It’s my first time trying Eastern food, and I liked it.”

“Indeed. This place is good.”

Hestia and I left the restaurant after paying. We decided to take a walk around the streets to help with digestion. I thought about holding her hand but decided to just stay close to her since there were many eyes around. Even though we had just finished our meal, pleasant fragrance wafted out whenever her hair swayed.

The shopping district on the weekend was full of vitality. Many students had poured out into the streets to relieve the stress accumulated over the week. A unique vitality of students emanated from the shopping district. The breeze was cool, the weather was nice—it was a perfect afternoon for a stroll.

I was quite satisfied. The weather was good, and having Hestia beside me was good too. It was also nice to have eaten food from my homeland after a long time. I feel like I received a surprise gift, as I hadn’t expected to be able to eat dakgalbi of this quality in this world. The restaurant we just visited, while not an extraordinary gourmet place, was at least on par with the dakgalbi franchise restaurants commonly found near universities. I would have liked to show Hestia fried rice as well, but sadly, that level of detail wasn’t available.

“The weather is incredibly nice.”

“It is.”

She too wore a pleasant smile. Our eyes met. She seemed to have read my satisfied expression and asked:

“Mikhail must really like Eastern food?”

“You could say that.”

It wasn’t really by my will, but just two months ago, I only ate Eastern food. If asked whether I like it or not, naturally I’m on the liking side. They say that home-cooked meals are what one misses most when abroad, and that’s absolutely true.

“You handle spicy food well and use chopsticks skillfully. It’s fascinating.”

“What’s so fascinating about that?”

Hestia answered with a playful smile.

“I just realized that I actually knew nothing about Mikhail. Each of these small details somehow feels intriguing.”

She continued:

“You know what? I’ve learned more new things about you in the two weeks since entering the Academy than in the past ten years. You have no hobbies, you like my nape, you have a strange fixation on smells, and you enjoy Eastern food.”

Hestia’s words made me feel guilty. Although it wasn’t my doing, thinking about her suffering alone for ten years, I don’t want to evade responsibility by saying I did nothing wrong.

“Ah, don’t make that expression. I’m not trying to blame Mikhail. I’m just saying what came to mind. Also… you lack social skills and often say empty words.”

She looked up at me. Her eyes were tinged with tension. I could hear the sound of a heart pounding. I don’t know if it was mine or hers.

“And you like me tremendously. Sometimes to an extent that’s bewilderingly inconceivable compared to before.”

Something warm suddenly entered my empty hand. It was Hestia’s hand. Hestia’s fingers found their way between mine. Each finger intertwined, locking securely so they wouldn’t easily separate. She blushed as she interlaced her fingers with mine.

Her sudden skinship momentarily stopped my thoughts. I looked at Hestia with an astonished gaze. Sensing my gaze, Hestia answered in a crawling voice:

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s just because my hands are cold.”

As if her hands are cold. Until just a moment ago, her hands were very warm from being indoors. If anything, her hands were hotter than mine. Hestia, apparently quite embarrassed about taking the initiative to hold my hand and even interlacing our fingers, kept her head down and refused to make eye contact with me.

“Why? Am I not allowed to do this first?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Ugh…”

Hestia kept making excuses on her own, even though I wasn’t saying anything, seemingly quite embarrassed about holding hands with interlaced fingers in front of everyone. Seeing her behave so oppositely from her usual straightforward and confident attitude, I found it simply adorable.

“Are you that embarrassed?”

“Everyone is watching.”

She twisted her body. Come to think of it, during the Eve Party, she didn’t seem to mind at all when we linked arms or when I put my hand around her waist, so why is she so embarrassed about holding hands?

“Everyone was watching during the Eve Party too. If anything, there were probably more eyes then.”

“What are you talking about?”

Hestia looked at me with an incredulous expression.

“It’s natural for partners to link arms or hold waists.”

What is this, a common sense altering app? I decided to just go along with it since she spoke as if it was so obvious. And different cultures might have different standards for skinship. Actually, we don’t even need to go as far as cultural differences; I remember having a debate with a female friend who claimed that linking arms was a much lighter and more natural form of skinship than holding hands.

I guess in this world, it’s a natural thing limited to balls. Just as battles are the highlight of fantasy, balls are the highlight of romance fantasy, and it would be silly for a man and woman to keep a distance from each other at such events.

“So, what’s with the sudden change?”

It might seem like I’m making too big a deal out of just holding hands, but this was a pretty surprising change. Hestia doesn’t initiate skinship with me. Moreover, she’s the kind of person who gets embarrassed and pulls her hand away when holding hands with many people around. For her to suddenly extend her hand to me first, and even interlace our fingers on her own—the sun might rise from the west tomorrow.

“Just because. I realized that it’s always been Mikhail who approached me first.”

Hestia smiled gently.

“So this time, I decided to go first. Do you… dislike it?”

“How could I dislike it? I love it.”

I waved my hands dismissively. Far from disliking it, I’m happy, though it was sudden. She saw my happy smile and chuckled.

“You know you’re completely grinning right now? Do you like it that much?”

“Yes.”

Hestia asked, slightly tilting her head. I can’t control my lips and philtrum right now. She smiled with her eyes. Seeing how overjoyed I am, it seems her confidence is growing over her embarrassment. Is it like, “I can control Mikhail’s emotions”?

“If you treat me well in the future, occasionally I’ll give you… umm, rewards like this.”

She thought for a moment before choosing the expression “giving rewards.” Of course, she wouldn’t have thought of it this way, but I burst into laughter at the subtle nuance of that word. Skinship with Hestia would be a reward for anyone in the world, not just in that particular industry.

“Rewards? You’re overflowing with confidence.”

“You don’t like it?”

Her attitude exuded confidence. It feels like she knows that I could never refuse.

“Of course not.”

And as she expected, I couldn’t reject her proposal. Hestia made a humming sound as if she knew this would happen, and then excitedly started to take the lead.

“Ah, Hestia. Yesterday when we were coming down.”

“Coming down?”

“From the mountain.”

“What about it?”

“I was wondering what you talked about with Lady Richthofen.”

Hestia was visibly flustered by my question. The confident attitude she had until just now was nowhere to be seen, and her fluster made it clear that no further questions were necessary.

‘Seria, thank you!’

I sent a mental thank-you to Seria. Such a dramatic effect in just one day! I should definitely try to find something like deodorant later and give it to her as a gift.

“Ah, we didn’t talk about anything.”

“Alright. Why are you so surprised?”

Naturally, Hestia hastily evaded the question. It feels a bit guilty knowing that Seria and I had already planned all this.

I didn’t say anything more and just enjoyed the warmth of Hestia’s hand touching mine as we returned to the library.