After shopping at Satou Mart, Inari returned ho with Shion, who let out a little “Ooh” of wonder.
“As expected, such a fine house.”
Her reaction was only natural—Inari’s ho was among the grandest in the area. Still, Inari found herself curious.
“I had thought thy dwelling would be more splendid still.”
“Mm, I live in a low-rise apartnt in Akihabara.”
“Oh? That town hath such things?”
“Plenty. Lots of craftsn live there.”
Indeed, Akihabara was known as the Awakener District, largely because of the many craftsn who gathered there. And of course, those artisans didn’t want to commute long distances. So, well-off craftsn and “profitable” awakeners—those who often needed their weapons repaired or replaced—made their hos there.
“In my case, my inner gear is custom-made. Living in Akihabara is convenient.”
“Oho, I knew not of this.”
“I want you to know more.”
“Mm, mm. Let us take our ti deepening mutual understanding.”
Chatting thus, they set the groceries down in the kitchen. Tonight’s nu would be simple Japanese fare.
First—edama. Thanks to modern freezing technology, it was always available; all that remained was to thaw it. While that was being done, Inari boiled water in a small pot and tossed in dried waka. When it had softened enough, she turned off the heat and mixed in dashi-seasoned miso. Truly, this instant dashi miso was a marvel—unless one had very picky tastes, it cut out a great deal of work.
Next was two fillets of salted salmon. She set them in an oiled pan, flipped them once browned, then covered them to steam-grill until finished.
“The aroma of salmon is near violent, is it not…”
“I know. Apparently in the old days, people could eat this casually and cheaply.”
“Then we must thank the fishern.”
Compared to the past, the dangers at sea had grown—far too much so. Yet even now, many returned unscathed. After all, the sea’s dangers were not only monsters. Unless one went off on so careless pleasure cruise, with risk managent and proper preparations, fishing still worked as a job—and a well-paid one.
Once the salmon was ready, she quickly cut asparagus into bite-sized pieces, lightly peeling the stalks, and sautéed them in the sa pan. With that as garnish, the side dish was complete. anwhile, Shion shelled the thawed edama into a bowl.
“And last… this.”
Freshly stead rice. Into it, they gently folded the edama Shion had shelled. Since frozen edama was already salted, extra seasoning was up to preference. Using the paddle, they mixed quickly but softly, spreading the beans evenly without crushing them. Thus, edama rice was complete.
Finally, Shion placed a few cherry tomatoes on the side dish plate—and with that, the salmon set al was finished.
“Fufufu… they say color balance is important in als. This is perfection.”
“Not a single gap in its defenses.”
“Mm, mm.”
Shion clapped her hands in delight. Truly, the colors looked splendid. Carrying the dishes to the living room, they pressed their hands together in “itadakimasu” and began eating. Shion nodded over and over with every bite, her hands moving quickly.
“Now, now, eat calmly, eh?”
“I am. I chew well.”
“Mm, mm. A good girl indeed.”
The salted salmon, grilled crisp, was juicy enough to stand on its own with rice. The asparagus, though unseasoned, paired perfectly as a palate cleanser, since the salmon carried a strong flavor. The waka miso soup was simple, but given how hearty the salmon was, that lightness felt just right.
And then—the edama rice. Delicious. The faint saltiness, the refreshing crunch of the beans. Together, they elevated the rice by a whole step.
Just as salt rice balls had long existed, rice and salt were an excellent match. And as red bean rice proved, rice and beans also paired beautifully. Which ant edama rice was practically a promised delicacy.
“Ahh, truly delicious…”
“Mm. A perfect hundred.”
While the two of them ate happily, Atsuage fiddled with the television, only to find it was in the middle of comrcials. He switched channels idly.
“Compared to last ti, this is a lot of work. Do you cook like this every day?”
“Only when I have guests. For myself alone, rice and furikake are bliss enough.”
“Extre.”
“I oft hear that.”
Indeed, nutrition and balance ant nothing to Inari. She could eat only what she liked with no issue. Truthfully, she could eat nothing at all without problem. To her, food was purely a hobby—nutrition and poison alike held no aning.
“Now then, dessert shall be… canned peaches.”
“Oooh.”
“Fufu. They say canned peaches were once only for special occasions. But now they’re sold cheaply in any supermarket. Truly, a fine age.”
“I don’t really get that history, but cheap and tasty is good.”
“Mm, mm.”
Canned peaches, preserved in syrup, differed greatly in taste and texture from fresh ones. Cold, sweet, and smooth, they slipped easily into the mouth. Cut with a fork, they were tender and pleasing to eat.
For Inari, who had only “seen” them in the past, to now be able to enjoy them so casually was one of the small joys of having gained physical form. In that sense, canned peaches held a touch of sothing special for her.
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