Shirley took a bite into the deep-fried eggplant; then her sky-blue eyes lit up with joy. Her teeth sank into the crispy fried batter with a satisfying sound, and the eggplant’s juices oozed onto her tongue. The spongy vegetable had soaked up the oil during the frying process, with its characteristic grassiness disappearing. Its aromatic flavor filled Shirley’s mouth, immediately impressing her because it didn’t taste like an ordinary vegetable, as the scorched parts contributed to its fragrance. The former floor master craved more with each crispy, juicy bite, and she instinctively accepted the next skewer that Kitase handed her. She covered her mouth with her hand and couldn’t think of anything other than chewing and enjoying her food. She never knew vegetables could taste so good.
“Glad you seem to like it,” said Kitase. “Now, Shirley, how would you like to learn my secret recipe? You could make this tasty dish whenever you want and share it with your friends. Interested?”
Kitase couldn’t wait to have a cooking buddy. Otherwise, he could imagine getting stuck as the chef in the dream world forever, meaning he might sleep every night feeling depressed. It went without saying that when he had run into Shirley earlier, he had approached her mostly out of self-interest. But Shirley was oblivious to his intentions and gave him a thumbs-up with excitement in her eyes.
Kitase smiled, then slowly crumpled to the ground. All his hopes and dreams would have dissolved if she had refused. That might sound overdramatic, but being forced to cook every time he dreamed would have been nothing short of a living nightmare. But he had made one miscalculation, which he found out as soon as they had started their lesson.
“What? You’ve never held a kitchen knife before?”
Shirley nodded. The dishes she had made were simple ones that only involved mixing and heating, so she had no idea what to do when Kitase had handed her a knife. She began swinging it, and he quickly jumped away from her.
He wouldn’t give up yet and said, “Well, that’s okay. They say prep work is the foundation of cooking, and using a knife to prepare your ingredients will make a huge difference in taste. I’m sure you’ll learn how to use it in no time.”
Again, he was complimenting her for his self-interest. When he stood behind her and gently held her hand, Shirley forgot to breathe. Although, her body didn’t require her to breathe. He was so close that her mind was spinning.
He whispered into her ear, “Now, let’s give this a try.”
The spinning went into overdrive. Shirley could feel his warmth from where he was touching her on the hand and back and screamed internally. She could only hear his soft voice in her ear without seeing his comforting face, which she didn’t think was fair.
“For the most part, you want to curl your fingers inward like this so you won’t cut yourself. Yeah, like that. Very good.”
She wasn’t good at all. Her body was as stiff as a board, with the eggplant getting cut into uneven, misshapen pieces. Shirley wanted to apologize for mutilating the freshly harvested vegetables but could feel his breath with each soft whisper and felt like she would faint. Lately, she was having trouble understanding her feelings. Her nervousness was through the roof, and she could feel her senses sharpening as if they were dying to feel his warmth directly. She wanted to dash out of there, yet didn’t want to move from this position. While her mouth felt like it would loosen into a smile, she had to stay on high alert the entire time.
“Yeah, that’s good. Just loosen up your fingers a bit more, and it’ll be perfect,” said Kitase, but that advice would be hard to execute unless he stepped away. Eyes downcast, she moved her lips as if to say, “Okay.”
She told herself that she had to focus, or she would let him down. Kitase seemed truly troubled earlier. He had always been a kind friend, so she wanted to do what she could to help. Shirley took several deep breaths, then focused on the knife. Wridra had specially made it and had etched the character for “dragon” into it. It could easily slice through anything and had never been nicked or chipped from use. Shirley concentrated on the blade and pleasantly surprised Kitase when she began cutting up vegetables.
“Very nice. I’ll start frying the ones you’ve cut so we can divide up the workload.”
Kitase stepped away, and Shirley found herself half relieved yet half disappointed. But she was soon relieved when he stood shoulder to shoulder with her, and she wished they could stay together like this without end. She wasn’t sure why—she still found it scary when other people looked at her—but seeing him smile made her feel warm inside. He was cute, kind, and knew all sorts of things she wasn’t aware of. Because he was a patient and thorough teacher, she learned a lot about living with humans through him. Development on the second floor had progressed, and Shirley’s daily life had changed at an alarming pace. As her role as the floor master had ended, her surroundings were becoming filled with brilliant color, as if she had woken from a dream.
With Shirley worried about her thoughts, she cut her finger with the knife. She had always had a habit of making careless mistakes and wanted to stay focused. Luckily, she couldn’t injure herself with a knife in her ghostly form.
However, Kitase’s face suddenly turned pale. When he quickly grabbed her hand and pressed his soft lips against the tip of her finger, Shirley cocked her head in confusion, thinking she actually would faint this time. Despite not feeling anything from her head to toe, the sensation of his lips against her finger was very real.
Why are you so kind? she screamed internally. Shirley couldn’t speak, but even if she could have, only incomprehensible gibberish would have come out of her. His mouth was warm to the touch, and she couldn’t take her eyes off of his tongue as he moved away. She placed a hand over her pounding chest, then heard him make a confused noise.
“Wait... You can’t get hurt because you’re a ghost, right?”
Shirley’s face was beet red as she mouthed, “No, I can’t.” He apologized, but her emotions were still going haywire. While he always had made her lose composure, even if she enjoyed cooking with him, there would be commotion if she let her guard down. She liked spending time with him because he always went out of his way to be considerate. Kitase helped her choose the next ingredient to work on and promptly gave her pointers, which were things she couldn’t experience in the labyrinth. But he stood a bit too close, stirring her heart inadvertently. She didn’t actually have a heart, but she could feel it beating hard.
That was why she felt unimaginable relief when she heard footsteps approaching, and the elf girl peeked into the room.
“I was worried, so I came to help. And it looks like it’s a good thing I did. Are you okay, Shirley? He can be a bit much with cooking,” said Marie.
“What? That’s not true, right, Shirley?” asked Kitase.
Hit with two questions at once, Shirley staggered to her feet. She would usually laugh it off as if it were no problem at all, but today’s cooking session was far too intense for her. Shirley sank to the floor as if her legs gave out and clung to Marie’s slim body. Kitase had done nothing wrong, though Shirley looked up at Marie, teary-eyed, as if she had just been through hell.
“What?!” said Kitase, dumbfounded, as Marie patted Shirley on the head to comfort her.
A sweet and delicious treat could become poison if taken in excess. The Ichijos arrived later and surprisingly found Marie and Kitase having a lively conversion. Dinner preparation went much smoother with more helping hands while an inviting aroma filled the mansion.
Shirley had been enjoying her time with people whom she thought were children, not realizing they were all adults.
§
One of the best things about fried skewers was that they paired perfectly with alcohol. Combining the in-season vegetables, fish, and chicken with glasses of golden beer was simply bliss. The beer was ice-cold, and its fine bubbles seemed to cleanse one’s throat as they drank it. Hakam and Aja, some of the higher authorities of Arilai, took a big gulp together and let out a satisfied sigh in unison.
Wridra, the owner of the establishment, watched them with a smirk. She wore a black, subdued dress that elegantly showed off her slim neckline and clavicles. Yet Wridra had an air of masculinity when she devoured the skewers with big bites. Even though influential people sat at her table, she wasn’t interested in pandering to them or acting subservient.
“Mmm, delicious. Hah, hah, those children of mine have always been engrossed in strange things such as cooking and fishing,” said Wridra, then turned to Hakam. “I am pleased to see their exotic and quirky dishes are to your liking.”
“These truly are amazing,” said Hakam. “I’ve never been a fan of the stuck-up food they serve at the castle. I’m not interested in luxurious cooking that’s only focused on presentation. I’d even prefer military rations over it.”