I wondered for a second whether I should correct the misunderstanding, but I decided it didn’t matter. It changed nothing about my wanting to stay with her, and I hadn’t spoken a lie. Her face was still red as she looked at me and managed to gulp.
“Wh-What romance novel are you supposed to be from?!”
“Huh, so you read romances too. Guess that tracks.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” she said, jerking her head to the side and puffing up her cheeks. “I don’t know how you can say such embarrassing things with a straight face. You must have been dropped on your head as a baby to be so strange.”
“I think you might be even better at chewing me out than at painting, huh?” I answered with a rueful smile. “So, your answer?”
A crease deepened between her eyebrows as she grumbled, glancing at me.
“What do you mean about my dreams anyway? What are you going to do?” she asked eventually.
“I’m going to go see the witch.”
“And then...?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see. It’ll definitely be a surprise.”
She glared doubtfully at me, while I just stayed there with my hand held out to her. Gradually, her right hand reached out and gripped mine, timidly—just by my fingertips. It was a clumsy and reserved handshake.
“It’s a deal, then. Let’s go. I’ll show you what procrastination can achieve. Or maybe it’s more like waiting for the right moment? Whatever.”
“Are you supposed to be a philosopher or something?”
I pulled her up with an “it doesn’t matter,” and she stumbled forward off the box. I led us toward the Kettle, still holding her smaller hand in mine. Once Nito was in the passenger seat and I’d shut the door, I settled into the driver’s seat and put my hand on the throttle.
“Um,” she spoke. “What will you do when we get there?”
I pushed the lever up, letting the pressurized steam flow through the pistons and start shifting the Kettle forward. Then, gripping the steering wheel, I answered.
“Naturally, I’ll ask the right question.”