Ch.138Chapter 138

I swallowed hard. Unable to resist Ouro’s stubbornness, I had reluctantly agreed to order chicken with my eyes tightly shut, but now that I saw it, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much better it would have been if we’d ordered more.

If Ouro had been an ordinary girl, she would have eaten just half a chicken with the Professor who typically ate lightly.

But Ouro and I were both Demon Gods. We had bodies that never felt hunger no matter how much we starved, and never felt full no matter how much we ate.

This might be advantageous for survival, but it was definitely disadvantageous when enjoying pleasures like this. It was so unfavorable that I felt like crying tears of blood right now.

I felt a bit intimidated because if Ouro mindlessly devoured everything because it was delicious, I would clearly end up barely enjoying any of it.

I took out the money that had been sleeping peacefully, folded in my pocket, and handed it to the Professor.

“Professor… what did you order?”

“That one we had before.”

“Wh-what…?”

That was the extremely delicious one with that special sauce, and it was really expensive. The brand itself was premium, so the price was no joke. I wondered if this was really the right choice.

Wouldn’t it have been better to go somewhere cheap and buy two market chickens instead?

Everything went dark before my eyes. I felt dizzy. I only had 50 Riel, and I wasn’t confident I could handle being asked to pay 20 Riel.

Having to think about Sera’s gift with just 30 Riel was unexpected. I thought I could manage with about 40 Riel, but 30 Riel seemed too little, making me clutch my head.

With 30 Riel, I couldn’t even order two chickens to share with everyone. I’d have to just buy one chicken and say, “Eat it at home…”

Pure despair.

With trembling hands, I hesitantly held out the money. I handed over two 10 Riel bills, and the Professor quietly accepted them. Then, with a slight smile, she handed them back to me.

“Here, this is from the Professor. Use it to think carefully about your friend’s gift.”

“…Huh?”

My voice came out dumbfounded.

I hadn’t expected such expensive chicken to be ordered, nor had I expected the Professor to return the money without accepting payment, so I was stunned.

I wondered why, but the Professor, perhaps having something in mind, simply handed me back the money with a smile.

As I stared blankly, she patted my shoulder. Tap tap, my gaze followed her hand. The Professor whispered to me:

“Thinking about a gift is a good thing. It means you’re constantly thinking about the other person and what they might need, or what you want to give them. The heart that cares for someone is important. But to meet those feelings, to satisfy yourself, you need something in return.”

The Professor pointed at the money she had placed in my small hand.

“Things like this.”

“Money?”

“That’s right. You need money to buy things, don’t you?”

You need money to buy things. Nothing is free. Even the food on the streets and rough objects have their price, so how could I say it’s not necessary?

I knew money was essential.

“…Yes. Um, Professor.”

“Yes?”

“Are there gifts that don’t require money…?”

But money isn’t always available. Sometimes you have it, but there are definitely times when you don’t.

So when you have it, you can afford to be generous, but what about when you don’t? I wasn’t someone who earned money like the Professor. I did get allowance, but not regularly—just occasionally when I could.

Money is never there when you suddenly need it, so I wondered if I should always be bound by it.

The Professor stroked my head as if my question was a good one.

“You could write a letter. Or convey it verbally. If it’s a way to express your feelings, it might not cost money.”

“…But somehow, that feels a bit…”

Conveying feelings? That’s a good thing.

Sincere feelings toward oneself—if they’re not malicious, anyone would probably like them. I’d rather be around people who like me than those who dislike me, and I’m sure others feel the same.

But there’s no way to know someone’s true feelings. People keep their hearts hidden so that only they know, so even if someone claims to reveal their true feelings, you can’t know if they’re genuine.

You trust the words that claim to be sincere, but you haven’t confirmed that sincerity.

So I questioned whether words packaged as sincere could really be called sincere. If one could truly convey sincerity, it would make a wonderful gift, but unfortunately, since that’s impossible, I felt I needed to prepare a separate gift.

I didn’t want to appear as if I was just making excuses because I hadn’t prepared anything.

“Really? Then shall we think about it together?”

The Professor, seeming to understand my concern, suggested we look together.

I was grateful. I had a lot to think about, and there was nothing better than having someone think alongside me.

“That sounds good.”

I nodded at the Professor’s words with a grin. The Professor gave me a gentle hug. Her hand, which patted me lightly as if to say “there, there,” stroked my back.

It felt like a gesture meant to sweep away all my worries, like waves sweeping away sand, and it made me feel good. True to that intention, I felt relieved.

“Professor, hug me too.”

“Alright, alright. Come here, Ouro.”

Ouro had already squeezed in beside me. She seemed envious of me being nestled in the Professor’s arms. With me already in the Professor’s embrace, wanting to split it in half—that had to be jealousy, right?

It couldn’t be anything but jealousy.

I felt mischievous, but I decided to just stay still for now.

Come to think of it, it was strange that she complained about hugging but didn’t say anything about me receiving money.

I couldn’t tell if she had no concept of money or if she just didn’t care. Knowing Ouro, it was probably the latter. She seemed to try not to miss any opportunity if it meant she could eat more, even once.

Ding-dong.

The doorbell rang through the house. Ouro perked up her ears, got up, and trotted toward the sound. I followed her, and there was the delivery man, handing over the chicken.

After receiving the rustling plastic bag and coming back inside, I spotted the Professor taking canned beer from the refrigerator and placing it on the living room table.

“Professor, what are you eating?”

Caught by Ouro’s radar, the Professor stood awkwardly and smiled bitterly.

“This is called beer, and since it’s something adults drink, would Ouro like to have cola instead?”

“I’m an adult.”

At Ouro’s unreasonable insistence, the Professor looked troubled.

Considering how long she had lived, Ouro was indeed an adult, but shouldn’t we consider maturity rather than just the time lived?

Besides, even before debating whether she was an adult or not, there was another reason why she shouldn’t drink alcohol.

If Ouro and I had the same body, then Ouro, like me, would be someone who couldn’t handle alcohol properly, so she needed to restrain herself. If she said she would drink, I had to stop her.

“No way. I tried it before, and it makes you dizzy and woozy.”

“Woozy?”

“Like this, like this—it means your head spins.”

In response to Ouro’s question, I held my head and spun it around. I was trying to express how dizzy you get when you shake your head.

Ouro looked at me with a strange expression as I kindly explained. How could she make such a face when I was being so helpful?

“Anyway, I’m saying you can’t.”

“…Professor.”

Ignoring my refusal, Ouro turned her head toward the Professor. How impertinent. Standing behind Ouro, I shook my head at the Professor.

I desperately shook my head, indicating that she absolutely shouldn’t allow it. The Professor smiled bitterly, caught between one person asking and another insisting it shouldn’t be given.

“It’s not that you can’t have it because of Ourr, but since your body is young, I think it’s better not to drink such things.”

“…So I can drink when I grow up?”

“No, no. I told you before, right? While becoming younger is possible, we don’t know if you can grow up again. Don’t do this for something like this. I’ll give you some when you grow up.”

Ouro was momentarily about to make a reckless choice.

I think only Ouro would consider dying to grow up again just to drink alcohol. Though among Demon Gods, only Ouro and I were of this type.

At the Professor’s firm words, Ouro pouted. Finally giving up, she reached for the cola.

“That doesn’t taste good anyway.”

I threw in a comment like the fox claiming sour grapes. Ouro glanced at me.

“How did you try it?”

“…Friends gave me some. Just one sip?”

“Is it bad?”

“It’s bad.”

Ouro asked a few times, then pouted. After thinking for a while, she eventually nodded.

As if uninterested in something that doesn’t taste good, she turned her attention completely to the chicken.

“Now, since Ourr and Ouro eat like they’re fighting, let’s divide portions for each of you.”

The Professor divided the chicken on the plates she brought and gave half each to me and Ouro. The Professor’s portion seemed too small, so I stared at her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Professor, I don’t need to eat that much.”

“Then give it to me.”

Although it was nice to eat a lot, it wasn’t necessary to eat that much. So I tried to hand the chicken to the Professor.

Then Ouro, who was next to me, reached out her hand.

“No! I’m giving it to the Professor.”

“Give it to me!”

“No!”

“Give it!”

“I won’t!”

I moved the plate away from Ouro’s reach and argued with her for a while.