PROLOGUE
A Peaceful Day Before the Opening of Hostilities
Breakfast.
There was only one chikuwa left.
“…Hmm…”
In the kitchen area, Touma Kamijou groaned as he looked at the rolled-up, jellylike cake of fish-paste whose expiration date was today at exactly ten AM. His latest kick was throwing them into his salads instead of the more traditional slices of ham, but if he put any more on his plate today, it would undoubtedly ruin the taste. Still, it wouldn’t be considerate to let the poor chikuwa sit abandoned when it was due to expire in another two or three hours.
For students, every moment in the morning was precious. Kamijou couldn’t stand there mulling it over forever, but he was at a loss. What should he do with this leftover chikuwa?
Just then, their calico cat burst into the kitchen space, meowing loudly. Kamijou thought he’d noticed the cat getting a little bigger lately—maybe that was the cat’s winter coat, or maybe he had just grown.
… Kamijou cast a furtive glance from the kitchen toward the bed.
Inside, there was a nun.
Her name was Index.
Normally, all she ever did was laze around on the floor, but maybe “early to bed, early to rise” was one of her creeds, because at this specific time of day, she was always kneeling on the floor, back straight, hands together in quiet morning prayer.
Chances were that the cat had come to pester Kamijou because Index wasn’t paying any attention to him.
Hmm. Kamijou took the extra fish cake, squatted down on the kitchen floor, and then asked, softly and cautiously enough to ensure Index would never hear, “…Do you want this?”
The cat responded with a loud “Meow!!” and raised his tail, making him seem like he had hit maximum happiness. Kamijou offered the entire chikuwa.
The calico bit down on the middle of the fishy tube, then ran out of the kitchen again like a dog who had just gotten a bone. Since cats had a habit of taking any food over a certain size to a secret hiding spot, it wasn’t particularly strange to see.
He probably went and hid it behind the TV or something, Kamijou considered idly before returning to his breakfast preparations.
But then, as if to replace the cat, Index came barreling in.
“Did you want to give me a chikuwa?!” she shouted.
“Huh?There was only one left, so no!!”
She must have seen the cat holding the fish cake in his mouth, because her eyes were positively glittering—a mix of grand and dark emotions, as if she was angry that the cat could get away with snatching food when she couldn’t.
Hastily, Kamijou tried to rein in Index. She was the opposite of a picky eater. Absolutely none of the consternation that many foreigners had when it came to Japanese food existed anywhere within Index. At this rate, the one chikuwa would be the least of his worries—everything in the kitchen would vanish.
“Index! Wait!! Breakfast is in ten minutes—no, seven—so don’t go fishing around in the refrigerator—”
“Chikuwa, chikuwa—the chikuwa!!”
“You’re not even making sense anymore! Don’t you have praying to do or something?! What kind of nun lets her desires run wild like this?!”
Without even a chance to say Wait, I’m not done making that, stop!! Index’s mouth began ravaging the kitchen. He almost thought he could hear wakka-wakka sounds.
October 3, 7:02 AM:
With his own food devoured alongside everything else, Kamijou could do nothing but stand there in a daze, long cooking chopsticks still in hand.
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login