Today is a holiday.
I don’t have to deal with meal prep, cleaning, laundry, or playing with the kids.
To be exact, I’d say I’ve been prohibited from doing any of it because the director has sternly warned me not to even think about doing any chores this weekend. So, I’m enjoying my first real holiday in nearly a month.
Dare I say, I’m something of a rest connoisseur. It’s no exaggeration to call me a relaxation specialist.
In a cutthroat society that always seeks experienced newcomers, my past life had left me as the equivalent of an obsolete human. However, the one overwhelming qualification I possess is that while others work five or six days and take a day or two off, I have an impressive ten-plus years of continuous rest under my belt.
To be precise, it’s more of being bedridden due to illness. Still, when you think about it, not having to labor makes resting or being sick pretty similar, right?
Anyway, this long-awaited day off feels strangely boring for a relaxation expert like me because I have very little to keep me entertained.
The reason isn’t monumental; I simply have nothing to do.
In the advanced civilization of 21st-century Earth, even lying in a hospital bed offers countless ways to entertain yourself with TVs, smartphones, and everything else.
But I’m not in 21st-century Earth; I’m here in this other world, on the continent of Terra, in a rural orphanage located on the outskirts of the Luminous Kingdom.
The only thing I can enjoy by myself here is barely reading. However, since the books available are all for kids, I don’t have many left to read.
Oh, speaking of books, it turns out I can read the language here without any problems.
It’s quite fascinating how words I’ve never seen before become understandable somehow, but it doesn’t seem like a mystery worth unraveling, so I’m just enjoying the results.
With that said, having no entertainment indoors drove me to seek some kind of movement rather than waste away in a room.
Even doing laundry or cleaning sounded enjoyable.
But since the director insisted I take a break, there’s nothing else to be done but roll up in my blanket and lie down.
By the way, I can’t understand why I’ve felt so tired lately after just a little movement.
Has it been about two weeks? I started intermittently feeling dizzy or heavy, making it hard to move. I thought it might be just temporary fatigue, but as I brushed it off, the frequency of such feelings kept increasing.
About three days ago, my appetite also started to dwindle. Honestly, it’s a bit scary. I can’t help but think that it’s the same as before in my past life—am I going to break down all over again?
Maybe I got too carried away thinking I had a healthy body. A little self-reflection might be in order.
Eat well, rest well, sleep well.
Reciting the basics of health in my head, I was squirming under the blanket when I heard a knock on the door.
“Sis, are you sleeping?”
It was Plona’s voice. I mean, who else would be looking for me?
I unwrapped my blanket and pushed it to the side before getting up.
When I opened the door, the face I expected was right there.
“Hey, Plona.”
“Ah! Sis, you haven’t had a proper meal again, have you?”
How does she just know that from looking at my face?
To be fair, I haven’t had much of an appetite for the last three days. Naturally, this morning I made do with a single piece of bread.
Does it show that much? I casually touched my face to check.
I don’t feel particularly haggard or anything.
“They say silence is golden! Guilty! You’re guilty!”
It seems like not eating is a crime to Plona. But what about you? Do you eat well? I’m not sure if you have a natural build that doesn’t gain weight or what, but from your appearance, you might just be guilty, too.
You look like you could break like a twig if I just poked you, yet somehow you’re as strong as a gorilla?
“I always eat three bowls!”
She interrupted me before I could even speak.
Do knights have mind-reading powers? It’s terrifying.
“Um… It’s not that I haven’t eaten, I just don’t have an appetite.”
“Hmm, you seem worse than last week. Didn’t you overdo it?”
“It shouldn’t be… too much.”
As I spoke, my excuses started naturally spilling out.
A month ago, I didn’t think it was too much. It felt manageable at the time.
But realistically, there’s still much I don’t know regarding my body’s limits. If I just got a bit too anxious in this new environment and tired from the stress, then indeed, it could be considered overdoing it.
Given my unsure answer, Plona nodded knowingly, tapping her thigh like a judge pronouncing a verdict, and put on a serious—no, a comically intense—expression.
“This won’t do, sis. Let’s go out together. You haven’t had lunch yet, right?”
“Huh? Uh, no, not yet.”
“Then I’ll take you out for something delicious. You’ve been working hard every day eating nothing but tough bread and soup, so you might be lacking in nutrition.”
“But I eat the same as the kids?”
“You’re an adult! If you eat what the kids do and work all day, it’s just not right!”
“…Is that so?”
Thinking about it, I don’t usually eat less than the kids, but I definitely don’t eat a lot either. And while I don’t mean to brag, I’ve been dishing out all the meat from the stew into the kids’ bowls while barely having touched any myself.
Have I been pushing my body too hard? It feels like that could be the case.
Sorry, body. But I really don’t have an appetite right now. It seems daunting to even go out to eat.
I’ve got my first salary, so I have money, but is it worth it to spend both my wallet and time just to eat out while dealing with the hassle?
“Then get dressed! I’ll treat you to steak!”
And with that, I quickly got dressed. A steak is definitely worth it.
*
“P-Plona. Is this really manageable?”
The moment I stepped into the restaurant and picked up the menu, I realized I was making a rather rural remark.
I had half suspected that the destination wouldn’t be the back-alley eatery when I heard we were going for steak.
But I didn’t expect it to be this fancy.
Except for trips to the market, I haven’t been outside the orphanage much, so I can’t say for sure, but this place is probably considered one of the higher-end restaurants in the vicinity.
Am I right about this? I came along because you said you’d treat me, but I didn’t mean to drain your wallet to the bone.
You aren’t here just because I look weak, are you? Prepared to make a dent in your wallet?
“I’ve got plenty of money, so there’s no need to worry! Ever since my apprenticeship, I’ve saved every penny I made without much chance to spend it!”
That’s impressive. As I welcomed the divine, I clasped my hands and closed my eyes for a five-second gratitude prayer.
“I’ll have mine medium-rare, what about you, sis?”
“Hmm, what should I get?”
Truth be told, I’ve never eaten steak in my previous life. Due to illness since elementary school, most of the food I remember, aside from hospital meals, is pretty bland. That’s part of what made me okay with the orphanage’s soup.
So not knowing, I couldn’t help but hesitate. I thought I could just order something similar to Plona, and in that moment, a server passed by with a serving cart.
“Plona, what’s that?”
“The one just served to that table over there? That’s blue rare. Are you thinking of getting that?”
“Yeah. It smells great.”
It’s true, my attention was stolen by the smell.
Just sliding past me was enough to waft over a delectable aroma. I thought I had almost no appetite, yet this was the first dish to make my mouth water, both in this life and my past life.
“Blue rare is almost raw meat, so it can be divisive. That’s quite a unique preference. Anyway, I’ll order it!”
Contrary to my expectations of a long cooking time at a nice restaurant, our steak orders came out pretty quickly.
When the lid was lifted off the plate, an overwhelming aroma invaded my nose and shook my brain.
Is steak really that intensely aromatic? I wouldn’t know since I’ve never had it.
Even if I had, it would’ve likely been Earth-style cuisine, making that uncertain, too.
“Thanks for the meal, Plona.”
“Eat well and don’t get sick! Has your appetite returned yet?”
“Yep, tremendously.”
“Thank goodness!”
Indeed, I hadn’t been getting enough nutrients while working, and Plona might be right. Just like my loss of appetite was a lie, saliva began pooling in my mouth.
Plona assured me that if there’s anything I didn’t like, I could order something else, but thankfully, that didn’t seem likely.
Following Plona’s lead, I picked up my knife and slowly sliced the meat.
The moment I transferred a slice into my mouth, the juice and blood burst forth, sending a thrilling jolt down my spine.
Umami wrapped around my tongue. A rich aroma surged from within my mouth and up through my sinuses.
It was unbelievably delicious. To be honest, I hadn’t expected much from Terra, considering its civilization is quite behind that of Earth. How could they produce such flavors? I’d once thought steak was just about grilling expensive meat, but now I realized how wrong I was.
With my hands moving as if possessed, I devoured the food on the table with an unmatched vigor. Plona’s exclamations of awe regarding my three-minute feast barely registered in my ears.
Clink—
I jolted back to reality at the sound of my utensils clashing against each other, looking down to see my knife tragically hitting the empty plate.
A wave of disappointment crashed over me. I thought I was someone with no gluttonous desires, but that clearly isn’t the case.
“Do you want to order another one?”
“…I’m good.”
“You really can get more! If you don’t spend money at times like this, when else will you?”
Yes! Yes! Yessssss! The words nearly spilled from my throat, but I restrained myself with superhuman perseverance, ultimately succumbing to the second wave of indulgence.
Since it’s come to this, let’s sell my conscience just to fill my belly for today. I love you, Plona.
“Shall we order the same thing again? Oh, let me try a piece of yours!”
You said yours is medium-well, right? I wondered what it would taste like after being cooked longer and took a bite.
But surprisingly, it wasn’t as good as I expected. It wasn’t bad per se, just pretty average.
Maybe it was because my belly was a bit full? The ecstatic flavor I had felt earlier and the overwhelming aroma just didn’t compare.
It’s just grilled meat, precisely that. My thoughts didn’t extend beyond this point.
“I’ll stick with what I had before. I think I prefer blue rare,” I decided.
The new steak that arrived brought back that bliss I had first experienced.
When I offered Plona a piece, she replied, saying this restaurant’s rare emits way too much blood smell for her taste, illustrating the divide in preferences once again.
But I never thought such a significant difference could arise from merely cooking levels. I’ve gained more knowledge.
This isn’t just because I’ve struggled to make a pot of soup—it’s clear that the world of cooking is indeed profound.
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