After the dormitory introduction, second-year and first-year students of jujutsu high, along with Toji's family, went to the dining hall to eat.
Sizzle. The sound of meat sizzling with juices and oil on the grill filled the air.
Clank. Two pairs of chopsticks charged with magic clashed above the grill, sparking small flames. Satoru glared at Suguru, who had blocked his chopsticks.
"What? What are you doing?"
"Satoru, that's the meat I was grilling."
"Did you write your name on the meat? I'll eat this one, and you can order more."
Nanami watched the scene with blurry eyes. So, you could infuse chopsticks with magic, too. It was a new piece of knowledge, although it might have been better not to know it for life.
Below the chopsticks of the two, Ieiri's chopsticks swiftly appeared and snatched the meat on the grill.
"Don't fight over something like that. We're not kids. Excuse me, can we get three more servings of meat here?"
"Yes."
Haibara was already stuffing his face with meat and rice until his cheeks bulged. When Nanami gave him a stern look, Haibara gave a thumbs up.
"Aaah, the meat in this place is really delicious! Try this."
"...Swallow what's in your mouth before you talk."
It was more surprising that not a single grain of rice flew out of his mouth, despite it being stuffed.
Shank. Zoro wielded a knife and swiftly sliced the meat. Thud-thud. The neatly diced meat piled up in the bowls of Tsumiki and Megumi.
Tsumiki giggled at the sight of the cute characters on the yellow children's dinnerware and the meat piled on it. After receiving the bowl from Zoro, Tsumiki pondered seriously.
Toji, noticing this, asked gruffly, "What's wrong?"
"I want to eat the biggest piece first, but brother cut them all the same size."
Tsumiki wanted the largest piece of meat, but thanks to the world's strongest swordsman, all pieces were cut uniformly.
Toji looked down at the meat, which looked all the same size to him as well. Finally, he just picked a piece with a fork and offered it to Tsumiki.
"Eat this first."
"Okay."
Tsumiki took the fork obediently and put the meat in her mouth, only to start hopping around because it was hotter than expected.
"Hot, hot!"
"What?"
Zoro quickly assessed the situation and handed Toji a napkin. He couldn't reach Tsumiki himself.
"Let her spit it out. Otherwise, she might burn her tongue."
Unlike Zoro and Toji, who seldom burned themselves on freshly cooked meat, Tsumiki and Megumi often did.
This was something Zoro had learned while raising his younger siblings. Regardless of whether the meat was freshly cooked and hot, it was best to pop it in your mouth before it could be snatched away—pirate crewmates and normal children differed in that. Real normal children needed their meat cooled down before eating.
Tsumiki, reluctant to spit out the meat, kept blowing on it.
"Even if it's a waste, spit it out. You'll hurt your mouth and tongue."
"Ugh."
Eventually, Tsumiki spit the meat onto the napkin that Toji held under her chin. Toji threw away the wrapped meat and offered her some cold water, which Tsumiki drank with gulps.
"I'm sorry."
Toji silently stroked Tsumiki's head, which was bowed in shame.
Zoro, while grilling the meat, glanced at Nanami and Haibara's grill.
"Aren't you ordering Wagyu?"
"Oh, should we—"
"No, thanks. I don't have enough money."
Nanami quickly interrupted Haibara. The amount they had already ordered seemed to cost a fortune, and adding Wagyu would really stretch their budget.
Zoro blinked. It was the first time he had heard someone mention a lack of money while eating.
'Maybe it's because they're family or sorcerers.'
Sorcerers generally earn well. Thus, unless there were special circumstances like loving to save money, as Mei Mei did, they usually didn't skimp on food.
Even Zoro, only six years old, was making quite a bit of money.
'Not directly from the headquarters.'
The headquarters pretended not to know that Zoro was going on missions, so they didn't pay him directly.
Instead, the sorcerer accompanying Zoro on a mission would be considered as having handled it alone, and would receive the reward for both, which they typically shared with Zoro. Because the creatures Zoro dealt with were often of a high rank, he received a significant sum when the reward was split.
'Some wouldn't share a penny, while others, like Utahime, would give more than half of their fee.'
For example, Satoru gave all of his fee to Zoro. He didn't need the money, being the head of the Gojo family, which was already wealthy.
Even the stingy Mei Mei, when on a mission with Zoro, would meticulously calculate the contribution and roles they each had and split the fee precisely.
"I'm not foolish enough to give up a long-term investment for a short-term gain."
That was what Mei Mei said while distributing the exact amount of the fee to Zoro. Zoro wouldn't have minded if she had given him a bit more or not shared at all.
'I already make enough money.'
But this didn't apply to freshmen just starting their sorcerer life. Zoro thought for a moment and then spoke calmly.
"Then I'll pay. Order what you want."
Nanami's chopstick movement halted abruptly. He felt terrible, like trash, for letting a six-year-old pay for Wagyu.
"Thank you, senior!"
"Sure."
Zoro called a waiter and ordered more Wagyu. The waiter looked at Toji as if to confirm the order, and Toji nonchalantly nodded.
Toji had no intention of stopping Zoro's spending. Compared to the billions of yen Toji could blow in gambling in a few months or even weeks, Zoro's generosity towards his juniors was utterly reasonable. The amount was also significantly less.
"…Haibara."
"Senior is six years old, Nanami."
That was the problem Nanami was about to mention, but he paused when Haibara whispered something else.
"You might not understand the other implications behind the refusal."
If it were an adult, Nanami's refusal might have been understood as concern for Zoro's financial situation.
But Zoro was six. Too young to grasp the politeness or the implications behind a refusal. He might think they didn't like him or didn't want to be friends.
'Yume felt the same.'
"Let's buy something more expensive next time."
Nanami nodded at Haibara's whisper. It was a subtly different understanding of the truth.
The Wagyu they eventually ordered was really delicious. If he hadn't been in the awkward position of being treated by a six-year-old senior, even the usually not greedy Nanami might have wanted to order more.
Nanami placed a well-grilled piece of Wagyu on Zoro's plate and spoke.
"You said 'senior,' right?"
"I'm not officially enrolled."
It was more like they were business partners. Zoro chewed on the Wagyu and said.
"If you don't like calling me 'senior,' you can call me something else. I don't really mind."
That wasn't the problem, and Nanami held back his urge to say more. Because he was a child. And because he was a 'senior.' The fact that these two things could coexist revealed the absurdity of the sorcery world.
"What does a 'senior' do?"
"I go with sorcerers and cut down curses."
Haibara, who had swallowed a mouthful of meat, said earnestly.
"So you mean... you go on missions with sorcerers and help them."
"Yeah, that's right."
Zoro often handled things alone too. But when a spirit's rank was too high or their numbers too many for a sorcerer to handle alone, they would step back to avoid getting hurt.
As Nanami thought of all the vicious curses Zoro had faced alone, his head spun for a moment.
'To just leave that be…?'
Nanami's piercing gaze turned to Toji. No matter how he thought about it, it was hard to understand a father who would let such things continue.
Toji noticed Nanami's gaze and its meaning and grinned crookedly.
'Look at that.'
The presumptuous blonde, not knowing the heartache of having a strong child like a marimo.
Nanami flinched and turned his gaze to Zoro.
"Wasn't it dangerous?"
"I was prepared for that."
Discussing danger while aiming to be the strongest was nonsensical. To reach the pinnacle of strength, one had to overcome numerous dangers and battles and grow stronger.
'But these kids might be different.'
Not everyone aimed for strength or to be the strongest.
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