Jingle, jingle—
The bell above the door chimed the moment he stepped inside.
"Ah, a customer. Hello there!"
The greeting hit him like a thrown brick made of sunshine.
A girl in an apron stood near the counter, eyes shining, mouth stretched into a grin that seemed almost too big for her face.
Before Soren could even close the door behind him, she had jogged over and latched onto his arm.
"Welcome, welcome! Sit, sit! Table there's good—no, wait, this one's better, the light's nicer, you'll like it!"
She dragged him to a table near the window with practised ease, ignoring the way his boots scraped along the wooden floor.
"What do you want? If you want my recommendation, I'd suggest the pancakes! Big portion, lots of syrup, makes the morning way less awful."
'Her energy is insane…'
He wasn't even tired, but he already felt like he was being outpaced by her personality alone.
He sank into the chair, some part of him wondering if he should just flee and find somewhere quieter, but the smell of frying batter behind the counter refused to let him go.
He reached for the menu and flipped it open to buy time.
Out of pure habit, his gaze drifted back up to the girl beside him.
And froze.
The girl's appearance did not belong in a vaguely medieval fantasy setting at all.
If anything, she looked like she had been yanked out of one of the crowded streets of modern Earth.
Her ginger hair was tied up into a high side tail, the curls cascading over one shoulder. Multiple piercings climbed the shell of her ear, a small metal chain dangling between two of them.
Her eyeliner was heavy, her lashes curled, her lips glossed in a soft pink that caught the light whenever she moved.
Her uniform had clearly been "altered" by someone who did not understand the words "dress code": the sleeves rolled up, the apron cinched tight at the waist, the skirt just short enough to be technically acceptable if no one looked too closely.
Another word floated through Soren's mind.
'…Gyaru?'
His eyes trailed lower, purely because that was where the glint of metal had caught his eye.
Pinned to her chest was a small nameplate.
[Esper]
'Esper…'
He didn't recognise her face from campus, but the combination of the name and her whole existence screamed "important."
This was not a background character.
This was someone who wrestled the camera for attention.
"Ahem."
He snapped his gaze up to find Esper's lips curved into an even wider grin.
"Did you enjoy?" she asked, tilting her chest very deliberately as if to emphasise exactly what he had been staring at.
A hint of mischief coloured her voice.
Only then did Soren realise what he must have looked like, a strange boy who had walked in, said nothing, and stared fixedly at her chest for several seconds.
"Oh. Sorry…"
Even though he knew he was innocent, the apology slipped out automatically.
"Hehe, it's fine," Esper said, waving it off. "That's what they're there for."
"Your… nameplate," he muttered.
"Yep! That too."
She winked.
He decided to pretend he hadn't heard that.
"Can I have a large pancake set and a coffee, please?"
"No bother! Black coffee?"
"Milk, please."
"Got it! One large pancake set and coffee with milk coming right up! Sit tight, customer!"
She spun on her heel, ponytail flying, and bounced back towards the counter, shouting something to the cook in the back with the same unrelenting enthusiasm.
Soren exhaled slowly and leaned back in his seat.
"Too much energy in the morning is exhausting…" he muttered under his breath.
His eyes followed her regardless.
"Still though… she's pretty."
If Esper's energy could be dialled back just a little, she would probably line up perfectly with what he considered his ideal type, appearance-wise, at least.
He wasn't stupid enough to claim he had the emotional capacity for romance right now.
He let his gaze wander around the diner while he waited.
The walls were lined with framed sketches and simple paintings, students' attempts, probably, or local artists trying to sell their work.
The tables were a mismatched collection of old wood and newer repairs, but the place felt lived-in rather than rundown.
A few other customers were scattered about: a pair of adventurers in light armour, a trio of students arguing over a dungeon map spread across their table, a middle-aged man reading a newspaper.
The atmosphere was warm.
Relaxed.
Normal.
The opposite of the catacombs and curses he had experienced only 24 hours ago.
His shoulders loosened without him noticing.
"Here ya go! A large pancake set and a coffee with milk!"
The tray clinked as Esper set it down.
The pancakes were stacked high, steam rising in soft curls.
Butter melted slowly on top, dragging rivulets through the golden surface.
A small pot of syrup and a dish of fruit sat to the side, along with the coffee.
"Thank you," Soren said.
He reached for his fork only to stop halfway when he realised Esper hadn't left.
She was still standing there, hands folded behind her back, leaning forward like a cat watching a bug.
"…Can I help you?" he asked.
"You, you're Soren Arden, right?" she blurted.
He paused.
"...Yes?"
He had no idea how Esper knew his name.
He was ranked 96th.
His performance during the mock duels had hardly been legendary; if anything, he had made more of a fool of himself than anything else.
But he shut his mouth and waited.
"I knew it!" she squealed. "Oh my gosh, I love your hair, and your eyes…! They're so pretty!"
She bounced on the balls of her feet, clapping once like a child who had just guessed a riddle correctly.
Soren blinked.
"Uhm… can I ask who you are?"
It felt unfair that she knew him while he had no idea who he was talking to, outside of a nameplate and a genre label.
"Right, right, silly me!" she said, tapping the edge of her nameplate. "I'm Esper Rupindolf. Let's see… If you're human, you might know me since my father is a duke."
Clatter—
His fork slipped from his fingers and hit the plate.
Esper Rupindolf.
Only heir to House Rupindolf, one of the four duchies under Fialova's banner.
And in the game?
"Second place," he muttered before he could stop himself.
"Well, yeah, that too."
Esper scratched her cheek with one finger, suddenly looking a little embarrassed.
"You know your rankings, huh?"
Second place in Arcane Studies.
He had never seen her in person on campus.
It made sense, now that he thought about it.
Just like Martial Studies, Arcane Studies had its "monster" in first place.
When someone that overwhelming existed, everyone beneath them became background noise unless they were incredibly strange, like Alex.
Esper was strong enough to matter, but overshadowed enough to stay out of the main spotlight.
"Anyways! Enough of that," she declared, clapping her hands together. "Tell me how you take care of your hair! Also, do you use any makeup? Your skin is so clean!"
Without asking, she slid into the seat opposite him, elbows planting themselves on the table as she leaned in close enough that he could smell her perfume, sweet and citrusy.
"Uhm…"
Soren shifted back slightly.
"I don't use any makeup. As for my hair, I just wash it, dry it with magic, then brush it out. Nothing special."
"Ughhh!"
Esper groaned, thunking her forehead lightly against her folded arms.
"Life's so unfair! Do you know how long it takes to get my eyeliner even? And then people like you just exist!"
He gave a small, helpless shrug.
"Can I ask something?" he said, choosing his words a little more carefully this time. "If you don't mind."
"Yep!" she replied instantly, her pout vanishing as fast as it had appeared.
Her smile snapped back into place like a rubber band.
"Why is a duke's child working in a place like this?"
He glanced around, making sure his tone wasn't disrespectful.
The diner wasn't shabby by any stretch, but it was undeniably ordinary.
Even the chairs squeaked occasionally.
It was worlds away from what he imagined a duchess-in-waiting would consider "acceptable."
"Mmm…"
She stretched across the table, chin on her forearms, gaze drifting up to the ceiling.
"Dad says I have to learn how the commonfolk live," she said in a mocking imitation of an older man's voice, "'and how to make money myself, young lady.' It's such a chore. Whenever I'm at home he's prattling on about how I have to 'follow my duty' or whatever. It's so annoying…"
She flopped dramatically, face pressed against the table like a sulking cat.
Despite himself, Soren smiled.
"It seems like your father cares about you a lot," he said.
Esper clicked her tongue.
"Pfft. I guess that's one way of seeing it."
A faint, more genuine warmth flickered in her expression before she shook it off.
"An~y~wa~ys~ give me some of that."
She pointed shamelessly at his plate.
Soren blinked.
"…Some of what?"
"Pancakes, duh. What else? I've been working since stupid-o'clock, and I'm starving."
She opened her mouth wide.
"Ahhh~"
She really sat there, eyes shut, leaning forward with her mouth open like a child demanding food.
If they had been friends already, he might have just laughed and gone along with it without thinking.
But for a stranger, no, for a powerful noble, this was… a lot.
He stared at her for a few seconds, wondering if this was some kind of trap.
Esper raised one hand and tapped the side of her mouth with a finger, making an exaggerated "Ah~" sound again.
He snorted softly.
"All right, all right."
He cut off a small piece of pancake, ran it through the syrup, and lifted the fork carefully.
"Here."
She leaned in and bit down.
"Mmm!"
Her cheeks puffed out slightly as she chewed.
"How is it?" he asked.
"Itsh sho good…" she mumbled, both hands rising to cup her cheeks as she swayed side to side in delight.
He ate the rest of his breakfast in relative silence, though "relative" was generous.
Esper kept hovering near his table under the pretext of "checking on customers," and every so often she would wander back over for "just one more bite, pleeease."
He fed her a few more times, mostly because it was easier than arguing, and she looked genuinely happy.
By the time his plate was empty and his coffee half-finished, he felt both oddly drained and strangely lighter.
He stood, patting at his pockets to double-check he hadn't dropped anything, then turned towards the door.
"I'll pay at the counter," he said. "Thanks for the—"
"Heyyyy~! Where are you going! Don't leave meee~"
Her wail nearly shook the windows.
Several customers turned to look.
Soren paused, shoulders stiff, then turned back slowly.
Esper was pouting at him like he had just announced he was emigrating.
"Aren't you working? I have things to do."
Out of anyone else's mouth, the words might have sounded cold.
From him, with the faint upward twitch at the corner of his lips and the relaxed tone, they came out more like teasing.
Esper didn't seem offended in the slightest.
"Lemme come with~" she said immediately, bouncing in place.
He stared.
"When does your shift end?" he asked.
"Shift?" she repeated blankly. "I don't have one?"
"…"
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Then why are you here?"
"I just help out whenever I'm bored," she said, shrugging. "Granny owns the place. She feeds me, I carry stuff. Balanced relationship!"
Of course.
Noble daughter working in a diner because she was bored.
"Then sure," he said after a short pause. "But I'm not going anywhere fun."
"Okay! Gimme a second, I'll tell Granny!"
She spun around and sprinted to the counter, apron fluttering behind her as she leaned over to talk to the older woman pouring coffee there.
Soren watched them for a moment.
The old woman laughed, swatted Esper lightly with a towel, then waved in his direction as if to say, "Go on, take her."
He exhaled, something between a sigh and a laugh.
'At least today won't be boring,' he thought as he adjusted his cloak and waited for the wild gyaru to bound back to his side.
————「❤︎」————