I did my sword practice as usual and washed my face at the well. The cold water washes away the sweat that sticks to my face and I feel good. But in winter, the water becomes cold as hell and I hesitate to even touch it. It's a frightening change.

　As you finish washing your face, you realize that you forgot to bring a cloth to wipe your face with. I turn my head, but it's not supposed to be there.

"Yes, here's a cloth to wipe your face with.

　The one who quickly held out the cloth to me was the maid, Sarla. She's the maid who's been taking care of me since I was a baby. She was sixteen years old when she was a baby, and now, six years later, she's twenty-two. Her face and childishness have been drained from her, and her neat appearance is imposing and beautiful. Her long, lustrous black hair was sure to make people on the street look back at her.

　As a Japanese person with dark hair, I miss her so much that I can't help but stare at her. The sight of her often seemed to be seen by other people, and I asked Mother Erna, 'Don't you like Saara?' I have been suspected of being a good friend. Well, it's not uncommon for small children to be attracted to the beautiful older women around them.

　Well, it's true that Sarra is a beautiful woman. But when I'm thirty-three years old mentally, I feel that it will be ten years before love begins. I don't know which is judging calmly, the body of a six-year old boy or the spirit of an old man.

　I replied to Mom Erna.

'I just like my black hair.'

　I don't care if the six year old suddenly said she liked her black hair and it might have seemed odd, but I don't care. I don't even care that sister Elinora was fiddling with her bangs behind mother Erna, who rolled her eyes.

　I knew it was black hair, right? Mm-hmm.

　Most men like women with a neat and clean image. Is it because of the inherent beauty of the Japanese people that they are instinctively attracted to black hair?

　I guess the reason I like long straight hair among other things is because it's easy to see the shine.
　I've heard that men like a single point of reflection (straight hair, car shine, etc.) and I've heard that women like a diffuse reflection, lamé or permed hair. Women, on the other hand, seem to like irregular reflection, lame and permed hair.

　But brown hair is not bad either. It's easy to get a bright impression and it goes well with clothes. It's not only that, but also the girl's friend said it was difficult to match her black hair with her clothes.

　But because of that, it's a pity that Japanese people have brown hair all over the place.
　It doesn't mean that brown hair is bad, or that you look like you're playing with it.　I'm sure that's just the image of being a delinquent or a Yankee that just won't go away, I'm sure.

　Maybe the reason why middle and high schools and high schools have strict hair school rules is to sear out people who are so rebellious against the school or organization that dyes their hair, even breaking the school rules.


'Thank you. Sarla.

No.

　Sarra's dark hair is beautiful today.



　× x x x


　I tell Bartolo that I don't want lunch and transition from my room to my home. It's a nice day and I think we'll have a picnic. I'm making a lunch for that now.

　I've recently been able to cook rice here thanks to the feather boiler that Logan made for me.

　Maybe that's why one of the kitchens looks like an old mudroom. It's a bit more Japanese, though. The details were adjusted with the dirt magic.

　It's not as easy to cook rice with one switch.

　It's hard to put the wood in the kamado and cook over the fire. More than anything, it was difficult to adjust the heat. We had to burn wood for days with Bartolo to practice how to adjust the flame. I realized how great the gas stove was.

　I learned how to control the heat, but I didn't know how to cook rice, so I had a hard time.

　After some trial and error, I managed to find the right amount of heat to get a good finish.

　I started with low heat, then high heat, then low heat, then high heat, then high heat again, and finally I turned off the heat and let it burn without removing the lid.

　The rice is now ready to be cooked. I can't tell you how many times I've had rice become soggy or burnt until I got to this point.

　I'm already used to the process of cooking rice with hunger.

'Yes, the rice is standing up.'

　I nodded, letting the steam from the cooking rice wash over me.
　I make up a series of salt knots and wrap them in leaves. Then I use spatial magic to store them.

　Now it's always hot.

I'm one step closer to my goal of living a richer life.

　Today I'm going to take some rice balls to Logan's house for a picnic.
　I have to show Logan, who made the rice for me, how good it is. He loved the egg rolls, and I'm sure he'll understand how well they go with rice. I'm sorry we don't have miso soup. I'll have to find it or make it...

　We headed for Logan's house, thinking about our future plans.

　A little outside the village, in the square used for vigilante training, sister Elinora was cheerfully battling with the captain of the vigilante group with a wooden sword.

　The voices cheering for the captain and the yellow voices cheering for Elinora's sister echoed to a distance. I walked past them as I walked past them down the street.



'Lorgarn-san, it's time for dinner!

　I pound on Logan's cabin. No one lives around here and it won't bother the neighbors, so feel free to be loud. I don't hear any work, so it should be fine.

'Don't stop! What if someone is listening?

'What?　No one is listening.

'This village is small. Who knows when they'll listen and misunderstand.

No, you're a self-conscious high school girl.

What?　Girls, are you good?

　I heard a word I'd never heard before, and Bartolo separated it in an odd way. It's a bit funny to pronounce.

'Oh, look, look, I've brought you some rice.

Oh, this. You came all the way out here for this?

No, we're going on a picnic now, just in case.

Okay. I'll eat this one later.

　Nonsense!　You're not going to eat a hot rice ball?　There's no way you're not eating now and eating later. That would be a stupid thing to do.　Logan is actually a big eater, so there's no reason he can't eat. Which means.....

Does that mean Logan is going on a picnic with me?

'I ain't going, how can you think like that? I just have a job to do.

Well, that's boring.

Bye, guys. Thank you. I'll let you know what I think...

　Logan closes the door with a clunk.

　I quickly put my ear to the door. It's impossible not to eat a hot rice ball. He's a tsundere, so he'll say, 'Huh, I'm sure he'll eat one.

I'm hungry and I'm gonna have one.

　I said something really similar.

　Chuckling at Logan's predictable behavior, I walk away from the door.

'Wait a minute,'

　I don't know when I came out, but Logan stops me from behind.

'Hmm?　What?

'Is this in the Celia cafeteria?'

'What?　What?　Did you eat your onigiri already?

　Logan speaks in a whisper, averting his gaze.

'I'm asking if you have one.'

　Moo, 'It was delicious in person. Can you eat it at Celia's?' You should have asked him.

　I tried to imagine Logan asking politely. I felt something sour in my stomach.

'There's only a little of it in the mansion yet, so it's not out there.

'Well it should go well with the egg rolls but I can't wait to get a lot of them.

　That's how you know, Logan.

　With a few words of goodness, Logan went back to the cabin again.

　..................Is there a demand for male tsundere?