The couple duo finally arrived at the inn.

  The repaired door, now reinforced with metallic ptes, sliding hinges, and what looked suspiciously like a mana-powered locking system, stood proud against the otherwise shabby wooden frame. It gleamed faintly with Eister’s handiwork, looking more advanced than the entire building it was attached to.

  Inside, the common hall was dim and empty. Chairs were tucked away, tables wiped, and the hearth smoldered with the st scraps of fire.

  “Heeermmm,” Eister hummed, tilting her head. “They’re not here?”

  Altair gnced around, uneasy. “Sei had been called to heal some people after a cave-in-”

  “A cave-in…?” Eister paused, her visor ticking faintly as though calcuting something. Then she shrugged, dismissing it with a wave. “Ah, no, irrelevant. The Saint was here when I left.”

  Altair blinked. “…She came back?”

  “Yeah, after the test. She healed the girls.” Eister flopped into a chair, swinging her legs onto the table without shame. “Maybe she got called again after I left, and since no one could cook for those battered heroines, they all went out with the Hero. Probably stuffed their faces at some fancy pce if there's any. After that they’d have… night activity, if you get what I mean.” She punctuated it with a dramatic wink and a nudge of her elbow into Altair’s ribs.

  He ughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Haha… yeah… they almost always do that every night…”

  “Damn,” Eister cackled, spping the table. “You had to hear all that every night? GHAHAHAHA! Poor donkey, forced to listen through the walls!”

  “It’s… it’s fine, I’m used to-”

  “Maybe the Saint finally fell for the Hero instead,” Eister cut in suddenly, tilting her masked head as if amused by the thought.

  “…Huh?”

  “I can tell she wasn’t interested at all in the Hero.” Eister leaned forward, lowering her voice like sharing a delicious secret. “In one of those many nights, you never heard her squeal, didn’t you?”

  Altair’s breath hitched, his stomach twisting.

  “T-That’s… no way!”

  Eister’s visor gleamed faintly in the dim firelight. Her ughter rolled out again, sharp and biting. “GHAHAHAHA! Donkey boy, don’t tell me you actually believed that pure Saint act?”

  But Altair wasn’t ughing. His chest tightened as the words burrowed into him, mixing with doubts he’d never dared speak aloud.

  “I-I need to find her-” Altair shot up from his chair, voice trembling.

  “Oi, oi, I was just kidding.” Eister started, waving her hand dismissively.

  But the door creaked open at that very moment, and the Saint herself stepped inside. Sei’s hair was a little ruffled, her robes smudged with dirt, as though she’d rushed straight from the road.

  “Ara… you both came back already?” she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.

  “Sei-” Altair’s relief slipped into his voice, but before he could say more, the Saint closed the distance in two quiet steps.

  “Have you had dinner, Altair-san?” she whispered, raising a slender finger to press lightly against his lips.

  The contact froze him in pce, his face burning crimson. “N-No…”

  “Then allow me to cook for you,” she murmured, turning toward the kitchen with the elegance of a practiced ritual.

  “Ah, one extra portion for me, mom~” Eister called shamelessly from her seat.

  “Cook for yourself,” Sei replied ftly, without even gncing back.

  That uncharacteristic sharpness was subtle, but Eister caught it instantly. The corner of her mouth curled beneath the mask. “Damn… no mercy, huh? Well, guess I’ll tag along anyway.” She hopped up and strode after Sei.

  “I-I’ll help too-” Altair began, pushing up from his chair.

  But before he could finish, both girls cut him off in perfect unison.

  “Please, just have a seat, Altair-san.”“Animals aren’t allowed in the kitchen, donkey.”

  The words overpped, sweet and sharp. Altair froze, caught between warmth and sting, as the two vanished into the kitchen.

  The quiet of the inn seemed to close in around him, the faint sound of cttering pans soon breaking the silence.

  (Sei’s Pov)

  “You’re mad at me.” Eister sang, as if she’d discovered a joke.

  “Of course not, Eister-san,” I said, voice even.

  “Hee…” She trailed off, then smirked. “…your killing intent is leaking out, you know.”

  “…If you already know, then why point it out?” I said calmly, returning to my work. My knife moved again, each slice exact. The rhythm steadied me.

  “Because it’s funny,” Eister replied at once, a ugh bubbling under the words. “The way you hold that saintly smile while your heart is screaming die, die, die at me. Honestly, you pull it off, but not in my league, hah! And the funniest thing is the reason. You saw us in the forest, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” I didn’t waste the moment on softness. “I thought I gave you a stern warning about ying your hands on my Altair.”

  I whispered the words of the rite. [Holy Chain.] Behind her, a strand of golden light uncoiled and shot forward not to pin a limb, but to penetrate her body in gore, to neutralize her organs before she could react.

  But-

  Eister only ughed, and the chain hit no flesh. It faltered, splintered into motes of mana, and Pandora drank the shimmer like a sponge.

  I know I’m powerless against her, but I couldn’t help myself.

  “And I told you,” she said, sheepish then sly, “I’m not trying to steal your knight in shining trauma.” The amusement dropped out of her voice, the mask’s edge catching the kitchen light. “But I suppose I owe you an expnation. I want to stay on good terms. A lot of heads are aiming for my neck, and it gets tiresome.”

  “Talk,” I said.

  “So remember that you couldn’t heal me, right? So of course, I needed the greatest genius to fix me up, which is, naturally, myself. GHAHAHAHA!” Eister crowed, as if this were the finest punchline in the world.

  I folded my hands together, keeping my voice soft and even. “And then?”

  She leaned in, eyes bright behind the visor. “So I patch myself up, right? And your boy suddenly popped his face right there. I was practically naked and vulnerable! Kyaaa!” She cpped, delighted by her own recollection. “So I beat him senseless, like that.” She snapped her fingers for emphasis, grinning.

  A cold line traced my spine and something like satisfaction rose in my chest. “That’s fine. The only girl who should he see like that is me.”

  Eister snorted, ridiculous and amused. “Seriously, how does a saint-end up so rotten? Anyway, I couldn’t leave him out cold. So, I waited until he woke up.

  My hand tightened around the edge of the table. “And then how about when you called him ‘my donkey’?”

  “Ahaha,” she said, waving a hand. “Yeah. I did. He’ll be useful.” Her grin turned conspiratorial. “I’ll put pressure on him. A little abuse, a lot of training, doesn’t that make you shine even brighter in his eyes?”

  Heat flushed my face at the idea; my voice dropped, shaky. “That’s….”

  “And don’t you want that donkey to grow a spine so he can princess-carry you?” Eister asked, as if it were the most logical goal in the world.

  “P-Princess carry? A-Altair?” The notion made my thoughts trip over themselves; images rose, absurd and sweet, and I choked on a half-ugh, half-sob. “I-” My resolve steadied into something like steel. “It’s decided. You’re my ally, Eister. Strengthen him. Push him. Make him mine. and mine alone.”

  She bobbed her head, almost too casual. “Yup. Yup.”

  My voice dropped into something fiercer. “But if he starts admiring you more than me-”

  Eister’s smile turned mischievous, almost tender in its cruelty. “Then that’ll be your fault, duh.”

  “What-?”

  “You might need to revise how you approach him. He might think you’re impossible for him.”

  I gred dagger at her

  “A-ahaha… How about I teach you my cooking methods?”

  The kitchen door creaked open, and the two girls returned, one with a tray, the other with a smug little hum. Sei’s eyes, soft and radiant in the dim candlelight, locked onto Altair at once, as though no one else at the table existed.

  Altair sat upright, hands folded awkwardly, as though unsure if he was even allowed to touch the food before him. But when Sei set the pte down with a warm smile, he bowed his head slightly. “T-thank you, Sei-san.”

  “It’s nothing,” she said sweetly.

  Eister plopped down beside him with a thud, pulling her pte over with zero grace. “Alright! Let’s see what the Saint can whip up, huh? Don’t disappoint me, Miss Saintly Wife Candidate, GHAHA-”

  Her ugh died the moment she shoveled food into her mouth.

  Altair, meanwhile, had taken his first bite, and froze. His eyes widened, then trembled. “This is…” He swallowed hard, voice breaking. “…This is amazing.” Another bite. Another, faster. Tears welled up at the corners of his eyes, sliding down his cheeks. “I-It’s so good… It’s been so long since I’ve eaten something like this…”

  Sei’s heart fluttered at the sight. She lowered her gaze demurely, though her lips curved in a secret smile. “I’m gd it suits your taste, Altair-san.”

  Across the table, Eister wheezed. Her face had gone pale beneath the mask, her hands clutching the table edge as she hacked. “Wha, kghhh, what the hell did you put in this, ghhhk!”

  “Hmm?” Sei tilted her head innocently. “Just a special sauce.”

  “Y-you- ghhhk! You poisoned me?! After I told you my cooking techni-” Eister croaked, jabbing a finger at Sei, her voice rasping.

  Altair didn’t even gnce her way. He was too enraptured with the food, sobbing into his pte like a man starved for years. “Delicious… Sei-san… it’s… perfect…”

  “Poisoned? How dramatic,” Sei replied calmly, spoon in hand, stirring her own food without the slightest hurry. “It’s dinner. You should enjoy it, Eister-san.”

  “Enjoy it?!” Eister smmed a fist against her chest, coughing harder. “This isn’t enjoy-ghhhhk-this is attempted murder! You-psycho-saint-!”

  Sei’s expression never wavered, her voice dripping with serene authority. “Now, now. Keep your voice down. You’ll disturb Altair-san’s meal.”

  “ARE YOU INSANE?!” Eister barked, gagging on her words, practically sliding sideways off her chair.

  Altair sniffled, dabbing at his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “Sei-san… I don’t deserve this…”

  Sei leaned in just slightly, her smile tender, almost glowing. “You deserve far more, Altair-san. Far more.”

  Eister thudded her forehead on the table, both hands gripping her throat, wheezing like a dying engine.

  Altair never noticed.

  (Eister’s POV)

  Dinner was over. The donkey boy had already dragged himself back to his bedroom, by that I mean the storage room. PFFFFFTTTT.

  I stretched, when movement caught my eye. The saint. Sei. Gliding silently through the hall like some perfect doll. Toward his door. Ah. So that’s how it is. Going to “pray” over him, huh? I almost ughed out loud.

  But before she could slip inside, I stepped out from the shadows.

  “Oi. Before you go viote the donkey, I’ve got a question.”

  “Viote? How Improper, Eister-san.”

  “So. That cave-in earlier. Were there casualties?”

  She froze. Her golden eyes slid toward me, sharp beneath that saintly veil. “…Ara. What is it, Eister-san? You care about victims now?”

  “Don’t ftter yourself. It’s research.” I waved my hand zily, Pandora’s joints clinking as if punctuating my words. “Healing is knowledge. Knowledge is power. And power, well, that’s my game.”

  Her smile didn’t falter. “Some, yes. But many were saved. I healed those who still clung to life.”

  “And the broken ones?” I tilted my head. “The ones crushed, torn apart, missing arms, legs? Can you regrow limbs, Saint?”

  A pause. Her voice softened, faintly regretful, or maybe just practiced. “My healing, as it is now, cannot restore what is completely lost. Wounds, sickness, even shattered bones… yes. But a limb severed? That is beyond me.”

  “…Tch.” I rubbed my chin, gears in my head whirring faster than Pandora ever could. “So there are gaps. Holes in the miracle. That means… data. How many? Who? Where do they live?”

  Her brow knit slightly, though the saintly smile remained. “The mayor holds those records. Though I doubt he would share them with strangers.”

  “Figures.” I turned, coat swishing, already calcuting routes, bribes, inventions, whatever I needed. “Fine. I’ll pry it out of him. You go on with your freaky little ah pn. Don’t let me stop you.”

  I waved her off without looking back and pushed the inn door open, the cool night air brushing my mask.

  I'm not doing this because I care.

  つづく