After assembling my first plate, I grabbed the utensils I needed before moving to sit across from the woman who helped me find the cafeteria. I clapped both my hands in front of her as a show of thanks to her and the chefs before digging in.
That first mouthful was absolutely flavorful.
The first dish I thought I'd help myself to appeared to be fried rice with a side of scrambled eggs, but tasting it confirmed my guess. Whatever was done to the sauce and eggs blended well in a combination of flavors that could only be described as heavenly.
The rice grains were coated in a sauce that gave it an intense flavor, but combining it with the soft, smooth texture of the scrambled eggs mellowed out the intensity, giving it a subdued yet delicious flavor. It was only after I finished half my plate that I noticed the grey-haired woman observing my food-absorbed euphoria.
I felt self-conscious and slowed my eating pace, making sure to control my expressions in front of her.
I'm tempted to get more, but with a body as lean as this, I should start eating less than what my appetite demands. Although, for the occasion of this being my first meal in another world, I should perhaps indulge myself in a second, smaller plate of food.
As I contemplated between indulgence and self-control, the woman spoke more syllables. Although I didn't understand a single thing that came out of her mouth, they sounded distinctly different. It wasn't just the way it sounded, but the rhythm and accent of it too.
It almost felt like a multilingual speaking every language they knew in hopes of finding the one language that the person they were speaking to could understand.
I watched her cycle through different accents, rhythms, and tones while slowly eating what was left of this delicious fried rice, though my enjoyment of what was left of the dish was subdued by the growing nervousness of the woman sounding increasingly frustrated.
Eventually, she stopped altogether, only staring at me with an intense, glowering stare. The empty plate stood by as a bystander to her cold, dark gaze.
Right, I shouldn't forget that she stood outside the dorm just to talk to me. Since she didn't go in, I'm guessing the two dorms are gender-segregated. But did she need to go as far as waiting outside the dorm just to scold me for ignoring her? Then again, people who see respecting your elders as the younger generation's obligation instead of a reward for trustworthiness exist. Maybe she's one of those people, but with good genes?
The empty plate was whisked away by someone I assumed to be one of the cooks, though I didn't get a good look since I was still being stared down by the woman in front of me, afraid to look away as if averting my gaze would spell my end.
She merely sighed, telling me to follow her again.
—
We navigated turns and halls until I found myself standing in Mr. Blonde's office.
The woman initiated the conversation and spoke syllables to the man. Her speech had an aggressive cadence to it compared to the timid and obedient demeanor my summoner had when Mr. Blonde first caught us trespassing at the school.
Mr. Blonde got up from his fancy desk and engaged in conversation with the grey-haired woman, seemingly dismissive of whatever she spoke. It was hard to tell if he was assuring her that things would be alright, or denying any accusation being thrown his way.
I merely stayed and observed, complying with whatever intentions the woman had for bringing me here. From what I could tell, she likely had questions about my presence at the school.
Sensing that the topic of my enrollment would be brought up in the back and forth, I brought out the map I had accidentally dropped, believing it would fill in the blanks of the missing context or speed up the conversation to avoid explaining things that can easily be understood with an object.
She firmly slammed her hands on the desk, but Mr. Blonde appeared unphased by the action.
Seeing them talk made me wonder about the nature of their relationship. I pictured scenarios where Mr. Blonde was a wise teacher while Ms. Grey acted more like an impulsive and reckless student.
I chuckled at the humorous situations I imagined a student Grey would find herself in because of her nature.
Such thoughts were brought to a halt when I found both Mr. Blonde and Ms. Grey staring at me.
What do you want with me?
Mr. Blonde stared back at his desk, speaking syllables I could barely hear. Whatever he said seemed to earn a shout of protest from Ms. Grey, but that was quickly shut down with the same authoritative tone I saw Mr. Blonde use with my summoner.
Ms. Grey said nothing more, aggressively speed-walking out of the room, before gently closing the door behind her. The last stomps I heard from her sounded louder outside the door.
I heard Mr. Blonde speak "Kiori" followed by a few more syllables. I recalled the few times he directed his words to me, and those syllables followed after. I guess that it is something along the lines of "Kiori's summon", "Kiori's familiar", or "Kiori's confidant", whatever equivalent he used to put a role to whatever my relationship with my summoner was. I didn't see him as a friend, but someone I'd had to stick close to for the foreseeable future.
Mr. Blonde beckoned me to come closer to his desk but didn't point to the 2 chairs situated in front of it. It's possible that whatever he had to say needed to be quick.
He merely stared at me in palpable silence before tapping his desk. I stared at him in confusion before he conjured golden particles and took the map I was holding using them. It surprised me more that the map wasn't damaged than how sudden his actions were.
The map was flipped over to the back, revealing its vast and blank expanse. He took out his pen and inkwell and started drawing. I merely watched as the man produced whatever explanatory diagram I needed to see.
The man seemed familiar with caricatures, as I saw Chibi versions of himself and Ms. Grey standing on stairs too big for them to climb, each of them being half a head taller compared to their miniature counterparts. Among the caricatures were new faces I guessed Mr. Blonde was acquainted with.
When he finished, he presented a stair pyramid with him at the top and various faces beneath him, with Ms.Grey being on the step below him. Among the faces was one of the cooks I saw Ms. Grey conversing with.
The drawing was very cute, to say the least.
Assuming this isn't a reflection of his ego, I'm guessing this is a visualization of this school's work hierarchy, with him being at the top of it. If that's true, then it's possible he had the most decision-making power at this school.
I looked up from the desk and met his gaze.
Although he provides explanations I need, that doesn't mean I should put my complete trust in him. After, he and Kiori are the only two people I'm aware of who know about the three-obelisk altar. Who's to say the others depicted here don't know about it?
I gently rolled up the map, treating the paper as if it were a sacred ancient relic.
I pointed at the door leading out, wordlessly asking if I could leave. He nodded, and I took that as my cue to exit.