Cooking Showdown (16)

“Jo, joa…!”

“What’s ‘joa’? Even your way of speaking is strange.”

At that very moment, the earpick touched my ear. It didn’t have the usual coldness of metal, probably because Rurin was gripping it tightly.

Rurin began gently tickling my ear with her familiar hand movements. It seemed like she hadn’t forgotten that I had said I liked this before.

The movement itself was very gentle, careful as if she were touching pudding, filled with a tenderness that made me feel a sense of maternal affection. And because of that, it was ticklish.

The sensation of ticklishness, along with a slight ache in my chest, was a bonus. It was a tingling feeling, as if my heart were being pricked.

“Uuugh.”

But suddenly, I let out a moan.

Why am I moaning?

“It’s hard…”

What’s hard? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that while cleaning my ears. Are you planting a bomb in there? What’s so hard?

“Ugh, th-there…is a bit…”

Just when I had that suspicion, Rurin must have touched a spot too close to my ear, and amidst the tickling softness, a slight pain crept in.

“It’s big! Stay still, it’s because it’s big. You really are like a baby!”

“A baby? Ugh, th-there, I think that’s a good spot.”

“Is that so? Then!”

Suddenly, Rurin’s hair brushed against my face. When I glanced over, I saw her bowing his head. When our eyes met, she was startled and immediately raised her head.

“Uoaaah! Wh-what is it?!”

“That’s what I should be saying! Why are you shouting?”

“…Ah, no…”

She looked deeply disappointed. It was a face filled with sorrow. It wasn’t an expression of being upset, but sadness—deep sadness.

But soon, she shook her head, straightened her face, and tapped her thigh lightly.

“Fl-flip over! That’s what I was trying to say!”

Did you try to tell me to flip over, and that made you sad?

I couldn’t understand, but I turned over as she said. Today was at least ten times weirder than usual.

Anyway, Rurin’s earpick returned to my ear. It moved gently in and out, carefully removing the earwax. The same feeling from earlier returned, and I involuntarily let out a soft sound, but then Rurin suddenly shouted.

“How cute!”

“What?”

“Your expression right now is cute!”

“Expression?”

Huh? This? Did I unknowingly make a sloppy expression from the cozy comfort?

This girl’s ear-cleaning skills have grown a bit. She made me smile without even realizing it.

And then, once again, Rurin’s hair lightly brushed against my face.

“Uuuuuuh.”

Rurin’s face turned red as she lowered her head again.

What am I even doing as she keeps cleaning my ears?

But Rurin continued making those sounds, not even seeming to hear me, and gently turned my face toward her with both hands.

But she didn’t come any closer. It didn’t seem like an illusion when I saw a small tear gathering just beneath Rurin’s eye.

The tear seemed to get caught on her eyelashes before finally dropping onto my face.

“Why…?”

“Why? Rurin?”

“Why? Why can’t I do it?”

Having said that, Rurin suddenly shot up, causing my body to roll across the bed from the force.

Did I do something to make Rurin cry? No. No matter how I look at it, I haven’t done anything like that.

I was just being very well-behaved—so why?

“Rurin?”

I quickly stood up and gazed at Rurin. She seemed so frustrated, clenching her fists tightly, and with her face flushed, she turned sharply and ran out of the bedroom.

And shortly after, a scream could be heard from the hallway.

“He did it! He did it, and I’m the one who can’t? Huuuuu!”

It sounded like a full-blown wail of despair.

Finally, the day of the event had arrived.

The festival began.

The first day wasn’t much. You just had to participate in the cooking event in the afternoon. Before that, you could run a stall, but the customers were just as expected.

There were none at all.

Not a single one came, even till the end of the festival. If they did come, they wouldn’t even glance at us and would turn away.

I tried to spread the scent by grilling skewers, but the sizzling smell mixed with the other dishes’ aromas, losing its meaning. Everyone else was cooking, after all.

So, the effect was null.

So, I just slacked off. It was expected anyway. The real goal was to win the cooking competition in the afternoon and then sell a ton tomorrow.

Still, seeing it empty like this was a little frustrating.

“Did you see that? They were doing art cooking over there. People started gathering when they did the event!”

Ricent, who had gone scouting, seemed to have found something. She gasped for breath and pointed toward a stall up ahead.

“Art cooking?”

“Yes, they gather vegetables and make Ma’a, then decorate it with Ma’a meat on the ears—it’s a kind of visually pleasing dish. People are clapping and cheering.”

“Ah, really? You call that art cooking?”

“W-we should do something artistic and try to sell even a little bit…!”

“But, is the art cooking even tasty?”

“Tasty? No, probably…it’s just average? The fun is in the visual.”

“If it’s cooking, not a painting, what’s the point of only having visual appeal? If it’s art, it should taste good too. To be called a master, you have to excel in both.”

“They’re just carving decorations and putting grilled Ma’a meat on top, so the taste is just Ma’a meat.”

“Then, go ahead and enjoy the show. We don’t need to do that. We’ll win with taste. Just taste.”

“Really. Won’t the judges give them art points?”

“How about this skewer? Look at the glossy sheen. The slightly burnt part gives off a savory scent. Isn’t this art?”

“…I really don’t get it!”

In the end, Ricent grabbed a skewer and started munching away. Her face brightened.

“Definitely, the taste is incomparable!”

“Regret it? Should’ve taken a spot near the middle?”

“No! No regrets! I’ll learn from your confidence.”

“Yes, yes. That’s a good sign.”

“You’re really so carefree!”

“That’s my strength.”

Carefree.

It’s the perfect way to describe me. I like it. Carefree El. Carefree Ellison! Heh.

“But why is your forehead like that? Did you trip while running again? Your forehead’s looking all red? The skin doesn’t look torn, just red. It definitely seems like you collided with someone, even if you didn’t fall.”

“Ah, no. A-a bug bit me! I’m not that clumsy, okay?”

“A bug? Pfft.”

“Wh-what’s so funny! A b-bug bit me, that’s why it’s red!”

“Alright, let’s go with that.”

That clumsy one just wouldn’t admit it! I gave up arguing. Looks like she’s learning how to fall without getting hurt.

And now, she’s even deflecting the conversation.

“By the way, what’s the mage doing?”

“Rurin’s sleeping. Inside.”

I pointed behind me with my thumb, and Ricent went into the shop. If you listen quietly, you can hear Rurin’s breathing.

Gororong—! Gororong—!

Gororong, poof!

Sometimes, the sound is quite loud.

“This isn’t right. I’m an idiot. I hate that other me.”

Then, a strange mumbling follows.

Yesterday, she ran out crying, then came back soon after, defeated. She jumped into my arms, shut her mouth tight, and closed her eyes.

Her coming into my arms to sleep doesn’t mean she’s angry with me. And she doesn’t seem upset either. It feels like she’s blaming herself, maybe?

She’s keeping quiet about the reason, so I’m left wondering how to bring it up.

Ricent evaluated such Rurin in one word.

“She sleeps so boldly.”

As Ricent murmured “foolish”, she commented while watching Rurin occupy the entire shop and lie there like royalty.

“Bold…”

After being introduced to Ricent as a mage, Rurin became an object of respect, and that has continued up to now.

Ricent’s fawning is so excessive that it’s almost laughable.

“Sorceress, please sit here.”

“Sorceress, is there anything uncomfortable?”

“Sorceress, Sorceress.”

But every time, Rurin would respond with:

“What are you? Stop that! Ugh, I hate you! Oaahhh!”

Rurin almost seems to avoid Ricent, who worships her. She likes being adored, but it’s become so excessive that she’s now avoiding her.

“If there’s nothing else to do, just wipe the spit. I’m busy grilling skewers.”

“What’s the point of grilling when no one’s coming?”

“Well, just in case something unexpected happens?”

Shrugging, Ricent carefully took out a handkerchief and, breathing heavily, approached Rurin.

“But that girl hates anyone touching her, so just use the handkerchief. Don’t touch her directly….”

“Eh…?”

It was too late. Ricent had already tripped and crashed into Rurin’s chest.

Ricent, startled, looked at Rurin, then at me.

Her eyes wide with a look of ‘What do we do now?’ but it was already too late.

Three seconds.

Two seconds.

One second.

Boom-!

“Don’t touch meee!”

Rurin suddenly opened her eyes and tossed Ricent, who was in her arms, high into the air.

Defying gravity, Ricent soared into the sky.

“Kyaaaaah!”

She would fall soon.

I stopped grilling the skewers and caught Ricent. Rurin, seemingly still half-asleep, started snoring again.

“I thought I was gonna die!”

What’s she saying? It wasn’t me who tossed her, right?

“Well, as long as you’re alive, it’s fine.”

It was currently 10 AM.

It was definitely not the time for Rurin to wake up. Dragons usually don’t wake up at this hour.

Really, they don’t.

“And I told you not to touch her, why would you jump at her with all your might?”

“My, my foot got caught…”

“There’s nothing for your foot to catch on, though. There’s nothing there.”

“I-I don’t know!”

Ricent quickly turned her head, then shakily raised the handkerchief and started wiping Rurin’s lips.

“Ughh, mmm…”

Rurin pouted, her brows furrowing then relaxing. She could even distinguish between human skin and a handkerchief in her sleep.

Of course, if Ricent had wiped her face or stroked it, Rurin would have been horrified and likely let out a gasp.

But since it was just wiping away debris, it was fine for now.

Ricent would never know.

What if she finds out she wiped a sleeping dragon’s spit? She might faint.

As I entertained such pointless thoughts, Ricent, having successfully wiped Rurin’s spit, started hopping around with joy.

“I did it! Ah, Sorceress! Even when you drool, it’s graceful!”

Then, she held up the spit-smeared handkerchief to the sky and began worshiping it. Kneeling while holding the handkerchief with both hands, she gazed at Rurin as though she were a deity.

I couldn’t watch anymore, so I turned away.

To commoners, mages have a kind of romantic appeal, but this was too much.

“Eh? Why’s it so noisy?”

After finishing her worship, Ricent poked her face out of the shop and said.

It was true that the entrance was becoming quite noisy.

“Really? I’ll go check it out!”

Not wasting a second, Ricent prepared to run out.