The Things I Like (Hers)

Monica and Lana left the scene as though fleeing from the black-haired brothers and made their way to a plaza with a fountain.

The fountain itself was not particularly large, but low, gently sloping stone tiers spread out around it, making the plaza an ideal place to rest. Apparently, Lana's recommended fried-pie stand was near this plaza.

While waiting for Lana to return with the fried pies, Monica sat on the stone steps and swung her tired legs.

(From now on, I should try to spend a little more time walking around outside...)

She was doing much better than she had back when she lived in the mountain hut, but she still had the bad habit of turning into a homebody whenever she got absorbed in her research.

On top of that, lately she had been relying on her apprentice to take care of her everyday needs—and even to do her shopping. This was not good. Very not good.

As she secretly resolved to start going out more often from tomorrow onward, a sweet aroma tickled Monica's nose.

Following the scent, she saw Lana approaching with fried pies in hand.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. Here you go. Careful, they're hot."

"Okay."

The half-moon-shaped pies were about the size of her palm and carried a faint orange scent. Apparently, they had been flavored with orange water.

When Monica took a crisp bite from the edge, a filling of apple, fig, and raisins oozed out. The heat made her cry out before she could stop herself.

"Ow...!? Phew..."

"Honestly! I told you to be careful."

While Lana looked at her in exasperation, Monica blew on the pie. Once it had cooled enough, she nibbled at it little by little.

The lightly sweet, orange-scented pastry was crumbly, while the apple and fig filling inside was soft and gooey like jam, with the raisins adding a pleasant accent.

"So, what do you think of my favorite pie? It's good, right?"

Whenever Lana recommended something she liked to someone, she would puff out her chest and smile proudly.

It was as though she were boasting with her whole body: These are the things I like! Amazing, right? Aren't they great?

Some people might have found that haughty, but Monica loved Lana's bright, carefree nature.

After all, whenever Lana talked about Monica to someone else, she would say, "My friend is amazing!" and smile proudly. It made Monica feel both embarrassed and happy.

"...The pie is really, really delicious."

When Monica said that shyly, Lana's smile grew even brighter.

Lana loved it when other people enjoyed the things she recommended.

"Right? I knew Monica would like it. You like raisins, too."

"...Do I?"

As Monica tilted her head while nibbling at the pie, Lana's smile vanished and she gave her a half-lidded stare.

"Hey... that's something you should know about yourself."

"Um, now that you mention it, I guess so..."

Monica had less interest in food than most people. She generally ate whatever was put in front of her, and if there was nothing to eat, she often made do with coffee alone for a meal.

That was why she had never thought very seriously about what she liked.

"Now that you mention it... I might like raisins. If there are raisins in a loaf of bread, I save the part with the most raisins for last..."

"And you like nuts in general, too. Whenever there's a plate of cookies, you always reach for the ones with nuts first."

"D-did I?"

Come to think of it, many of the sweets Isaac made seemed to contain nuts. He had even brought her rare foreign nuts as souvenirs. He must have noticed Monica's preferences.

"Especially sweets made by setting nuts in honey. Those are your favorite, right?"

"Y-yeah..."

"And you like fish more than meat. You ate butter-sautéed fish with a hint of lemon more than anything else at the academy cafeteria."

"I-I guess so...!"

"You drink your coffee without sugar or milk, but you take two sugar cubes with your tea. You like milk tea, too."

Monica looked at Lana with the reverence one might show a scholar who had made a great discovery.

"Lana, you're amazing..."

"Honestly! You should at least know what you like. Otherwise, when it's time to spoil yourself, you won't know how to do it."

Monica was secretly impressed by Lana's words.

Until then, she had never seriously considered anything she liked besides numbers and magic.

She had even thought that as long as she could lose herself in the beautiful worlds of mathematical and magical formulas, she needed no one and nothing else.

(...Back then, I thought that as long as I ate enough to keep myself alive, that was all that mattered...)

But Monica had become very greedy now.

She was sure she could never again give up the pleasure of drinking coffee with someone or eating fried pies with Lana.

(...I had so many things I liked besides math and magic.)

Lana had led Monica by the hand and helped her realize that.

She had found the things Monica had overlooked and remembered them all for her.

"Lana, thank you."

Thank you for taking me outside.

Thank you for introducing me to such wonderful pies.

Thank you for remembering the things I like.

At Monica's heartfelt words of thanks, Lana looked at her, the corners of her mouth twitching restlessly.

"...Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah."

When Monica nodded, Lana murmured, "Good," with a radiant smile, then took a bite of her pie.

＊　＊　＊

From shortly after noon onward, Lana's secretary, Clifford Anderson, checked the time on the clock exactly once every ten minutes.

Even now, as he worked diligently with his quill, he suddenly stopped and tilted his head before checking the clock. This was the thirty-fifth time he had checked. The sun was already beginning to sink.

"..."

Clifford put away the documents, then donned the coat hanging over the back of his chair.

When Clifford had first visited Lana, he had been wearing clothes he had bought at an antique shop. Now, however, he wore neat, presentable clothes. Lana had chosen every one of them for him.

His shaggy black hair had at least been combed and tied back, and he had shaved his beard. The only thing that had not changed was his large, thick glasses, which covered nearly half his face.

Just as Clifford adjusted his glasses, which had begun to slip, and prepared to head outside, he heard a cheerful voice call, "I'm home!" Lana had returned.

Clifford had put on his coat to go meet Lana, but after briefly considering whether to take it off, he decided against it. It was almost time to go home anyway, and he had finished his work for the day.

As he was thinking that, the door opened and Lana appeared.

"I'm home, Cliff!"

"You're late."

Clifford always spoke in a flat, emotionless tone. Even so, Lana seemed to notice the displeasure contained in that short sentence.

Looking awkward, Lana let her eyes drift aside while twirling a lock of hair beside her face around one finger.

Clifford questioned Lana with an expressionless face.

"Before you left, you said, 'I'm going out to have lunch with a friend.'"

"Yes. That's exactly what I said."

"It's evening now."

"I-I'm sorry, okay...? By the way, have you finished the paperwork...?"

"Of course. Don't worry."

Clifford nodded and gave the pile of documents on the desk a light tap.

"I left your share right where it was."

"You are so mean! You could've done it for me!"

Lana sat in her chair with a sullen look, then began going through the documents and letters.

"This letter is from Dorky Glasses—er, Count Unbard. The prototype of the accessory I designed recently will be arriving soon. I can't wait to see how it turns out! Oh, and Mrs. Ratridge sent a letter of thanks. Apparently, the silk fabric I arranged for her was very well received. She's asking to continue doing business with us, so I'll need to reply to this one right away..."

Clifford silently stared at Lana as she read through the letters.

When Lana noticed his gaze, she moved only her eyes to glare at him and asked, "What?"

"...If you're not going to help, you can go home. Good work today."

"Let's have lunch together tomorrow."

At Clifford's sudden proposal, Lana blinked and widened her eyes.

Then, as though something had just occurred to her, she shook her head.

"Tomorrow won't work."

"Why? I know your schedule. You don't have any business meetings, salon appointments, or ladies' association meetings scheduled."

"Because I promised Monica we'd have lunch together tomorrow."

At the name Lana uttered, Clifford's expression remained blank, but his fingertips trembled ever so slightly.

Monica—that was a name Clifford often heard from Lana.

Apparently, Monica had been away for some time, so he had not heard her name much lately. It seemed she had recently returned to Sazandoll.

"Did you have lunch with Monica today, too?"

"Yes. We had fried pies!"

"That's not fair."

At Clifford's complaint, Lana propped her cheek on one hand and gave him a perplexed, "Huh?"

"...Did you want fried pies too, Cliff?"

"Monica is monopolizing you. Next time, it should be my turn to eat with you. We ought to take turns."

"Who I eat with is my business!"

Lana tilted up her slender chin and declared that, then turned her attention back to the paperwork.

Clifford stared intently at Lana as she moved her quill across the page, then opened his mouth.

"...What restaurant are you going to tomorrow?"

"A fish restaurant that recently opened on Third Street."

"I see."

Clifford quietly slipped the documents he had planned to give Lana into his own drawer.

Tomorrow morning, when Lana saw them, she would surely turn pale and be forced to sit down and deal with the documents.

Naturally, she would have no time to eat lunch with her friend.