Happy Life
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- "Ohayo," - Aiano replies, then squints suspiciously and rubs her eyes—but surprisingly, the very same person is in front of her. "Omurice... Yes, that makes sense. What a twist it would be if it turned out that Lord Ravenadge himself cooks all the dishes at XXX, huh?"
Drinking half a glass of water, she sits down at the table.
- "You know, this dish is popular with us too. It's as if all of it is pulled from some abstract space of ideas," - she says, testing its springiness with a spoon and gazing at the ketchup swirl, then offering a faint half-smile. - "It's a pity to even break into it.
Remaining in this state for about two and a half seconds, she finally exhales heavily, as if releasing the stale air from the previous evening, deflating into a balloon with slumped and hunched shoulders. Yet another one and a half seconds later, she straightens her posture, closes her eyes, and takes several meditative breaths using her preferred method—the purity of which is slightly compromised by the aroma of the breakfast before her. When she opens her eyes, she makes a gesture that, as a respectable woman of her standing, she had never planned to make in her life: she sharply slaps both palms against her cheeks to regain her senses. The gesture brings only a brief sting of pain, and since a spoon was still clutched in her hand, it accidentally adds a slap to her own ear.
- Ayatata... - that turned out to be a rather foolish gesture. "For last night... Suman. Probably just fatigue. Yesterday..." - she counts off on her fingers. "No, the day before yesterday I comforted Heidi-san about that incident by saying you didn't need a lesson in modesty, since everything's been going too smoothly for you anyway. And apparently, that was exactly the same lesson for me, haha! But who knows what he just said? He doesn't know me at all! He'll be apologizing later when he realizes he was wrong!" - she slammed her fist on the table, the clenched spoon banging loudly. "And besides... have you ever seen a miko doubt her path and her spiritual connection to the Kamisama-tachi, eh? I've never seen anything like it, have you?" - it was a rhetorical question. Aiano's voice carried an energy uncharacteristic of her, as if she had temporarily transformed into the author of her own guidebook, partly explained as a psychological defense mechanism against this mental trauma, but nevertheless, the attempt was sincere.
Scooping a generous spoonful of omurice, she puts it in her mouth, but the breakfast is still hot. Turning away and covering her mouth with her palm, she draws in air until the food cools down before continuing to chew.
- "I umhm..." - she begins to say, then catches herself. "- Phmmp...
Pausing for a few seconds and closing her eyes again, she calmly finishes chewing the portion, then brings her palms together in a customary gesture and says:
- "Itadakimasu."
Scooping another spoonful, before putting it inside, she adds:
- "I won't let such trivial matters ruin my vacation or my impression of Mitten, especially since he's not just mine. This sword will yet protect the dispossessed and slice sashimi so thinly it'll be transparent as glass!" - concluding this highly intellectual metaphor with a spoonful of breakfast, she chews while simultaneously flexing her twig-like bicep, expressing readiness for great deeds, as she had once done at the local adventurers' guild.
- "One day he will come to the threshold of my Temple and ask to enter the shinshoku. Well then, I'll grant it to him, since he didn't banish me. I always remember kindness! And until then, the main thing is not to run into someone even crazier, haha! Otherwise, one might not survive! Although maybe he was the one who scared you. Ah, yes... Thank you for those warm words, Edglord-kun. It's evident to me that they influenced him more than anything I could ever have said. They also pulled me out of the depths of the moral Abyss... Please, don't hold a grudge against him. I can understand him - he's a man loyal to his beliefs, and his soul shines like... Hmmm... a shroud that wraps the dead," - shrugging off the comparison, she takes the third spoonful.
Drinking half a glass of water, she sits down at the table.
- "You know, this dish is popular with us too. It's as if all of it is pulled from some abstract space of ideas," - she says, testing its springiness with a spoon and gazing at the ketchup swirl, then offering a faint half-smile. - "It's a pity to even break into it.
Remaining in this state for about two and a half seconds, she finally exhales heavily, as if releasing the stale air from the previous evening, deflating into a balloon with slumped and hunched shoulders. Yet another one and a half seconds later, she straightens her posture, closes her eyes, and takes several meditative breaths using her preferred method—the purity of which is slightly compromised by the aroma of the breakfast before her. When she opens her eyes, she makes a gesture that, as a respectable woman of her standing, she had never planned to make in her life: she sharply slaps both palms against her cheeks to regain her senses. The gesture brings only a brief sting of pain, and since a spoon was still clutched in her hand, it accidentally adds a slap to her own ear.
- Ayatata... - that turned out to be a rather foolish gesture. "For last night... Suman. Probably just fatigue. Yesterday..." - she counts off on her fingers. "No, the day before yesterday I comforted Heidi-san about that incident by saying you didn't need a lesson in modesty, since everything's been going too smoothly for you anyway. And apparently, that was exactly the same lesson for me, haha! But who knows what he just said? He doesn't know me at all! He'll be apologizing later when he realizes he was wrong!" - she slammed her fist on the table, the clenched spoon banging loudly. "And besides... have you ever seen a miko doubt her path and her spiritual connection to the Kamisama-tachi, eh? I've never seen anything like it, have you?" - it was a rhetorical question. Aiano's voice carried an energy uncharacteristic of her, as if she had temporarily transformed into the author of her own guidebook, partly explained as a psychological defense mechanism against this mental trauma, but nevertheless, the attempt was sincere.
Scooping a generous spoonful of omurice, she puts it in her mouth, but the breakfast is still hot. Turning away and covering her mouth with her palm, she draws in air until the food cools down before continuing to chew.
- "I umhm..." - she begins to say, then catches herself. "- Phmmp...
Pausing for a few seconds and closing her eyes again, she calmly finishes chewing the portion, then brings her palms together in a customary gesture and says:
- "Itadakimasu."
Scooping another spoonful, before putting it inside, she adds:
- "I won't let such trivial matters ruin my vacation or my impression of Mitten, especially since he's not just mine. This sword will yet protect the dispossessed and slice sashimi so thinly it'll be transparent as glass!" - concluding this highly intellectual metaphor with a spoonful of breakfast, she chews while simultaneously flexing her twig-like bicep, expressing readiness for great deeds, as she had once done at the local adventurers' guild.
- "One day he will come to the threshold of my Temple and ask to enter the shinshoku. Well then, I'll grant it to him, since he didn't banish me. I always remember kindness! And until then, the main thing is not to run into someone even crazier, haha! Otherwise, one might not survive! Although maybe he was the one who scared you. Ah, yes... Thank you for those warm words, Edglord-kun. It's evident to me that they influenced him more than anything I could ever have said. They also pulled me out of the depths of the moral Abyss... Please, don't hold a grudge against him. I can understand him - he's a man loyal to his beliefs, and his soul shines like... Hmmm... a shroud that wraps the dead," - shrugging off the comparison, she takes the third spoonful.
My sword, my trusted ally, unphased by my aspect.
