Rodeo pressed his lips firmly shut, unable to get the words out, and looked away. Chalice was still watching his eyes with an expression that said he didn’t understand. Then Rodeo gave up and answered in a deflated voice.
“The pasta… it wasn’t ruined…”
Rodeo trailed off mid-sentence, frowning, and closed his mouth again. Chalice, who had been waiting for him to finish, opened his mouth first with an irritated look.
“…Am I making you talk about something difficult right now?”
“…I ate.”
“I still don’t follow. You ate?”
“I’m saying I ate, and there was a portion left over. There was enough left for one more person, but it had gotten too cold to eat, so… I threw it out.”
Chalice’s tilted head slowly straightened. His eyes widened slightly, then returned to normal, blinking two or three times in quick succession — and Rodeo, who had been embarrassed enough already, hid his doubled mortification by letting his gaze wander elsewhere.
“…Oh.”
Two shadows stood motionless in the silence, doing their best to conceal the turmoil within.
“I thought it would be uncomfortable… I’ve been rude.”
“…I’m not so shameless that I’d freeload without some form of thanks.”
“…Thanks.”
“I couldn’t do it yesterday, so shall I today.”
This time Rodeo waited for Chalice’s answer, and the quiet lingered stubbornly. Chalice ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek and was silent as though deliberating.
“The only thing I can work with today is meat…”
“Steak is simple and perfect.”
The voice cut in before he even finished speaking — Chalice seemed noticeably flustered, because he swept back hair that was already swept back. That only loosened the strands that had been firmly in place, sending them spilling forward over his face, and Rodeo, watching it happen, dipped his head slightly.
“Isn’t it you, not me, who thought it would be uncomfortable? I’ve already guessed as much, so you can be honest.”
Rodeo wasn’t wrong either. But for some reason, Chalice made a face of disbelief and let out a short, humorless laugh.
“In my eyes you’re still the young Esper who liked French toast — uncomfortable, you say.”
Rodeo let out a reluctant laugh too, but the tension in the conversation only pulled tighter because his eyes weren’t laughing at all.
“Then I’ll take it as genuinely not uncomfortable, and I will — the thanks.”
The muscle in Rodeo’s jaw visibly flexed as he spoke, as though his teeth were clenched.
“And I, for my part, will sit here thinking of you as a junior with genuine integrity who truly means to show his thanks.”
“…This is going to need to be a spread with drinks.”
“I never thought a day like this would come.”
Rodeo tipped the last few drops of wine into Chalice’s glass and let out a quiet laugh. He wasn’t drunk, but the way he carried himself toward Chalice was softer than usual — and Chalice too sat with his suit slightly disheveled, his hair almost entirely undone. His posture was still upright, but the fingers curled around his glass swayed to some unreadable rhythm.
“A day like this?”
“Setting aside the fact that we’re emptying a bottle of wine without a mission — I mean a day where the person sitting across the same table is Chalice.”
“…I’d say the same, Rodeo.”
Rodeo’s smile stopped in an instant, and his gaze shifted past the wine bottle to Chalice. It had been so long that hearing his own name from Chalice brought both a sense of strangeness and déjà vu all at once — the name was something from a memory almost too distant to reach.
Can’t quite get used to it.
Rodeo felt once more the weight of ten years having passed, his expression stiffening slightly, and he knocked back the little wine he had left.
“Is it hard to adjust.”
“…No, the future ten years on doesn’t seem like such a difficult place for an Esper to adjust to.”
“…….”
A barbed remark slipped back into what had been a slightly softened atmosphere. Chalice’s eyes closed slowly and opened again, settling directly on Rodeo’s. A sharp current passed between them.
“If Chalice were to Time Warp back ten years into the past — wouldn’t adjusting be extremely difficult?”
“…It would. The future could be changed too.”
“…….”
Rodeo’s expression hardened visibly.
“Ten years have passed for me. If we can sit down for a drink, isn’t it time to be done with conversations like this?”
“…Unfortunately I’m still Rodeo at twenty-seven.”
“Is that so?”
“If you don’t remember, try to recall. How the last mission ended.”
Rodeo’s gaze met Chalice’s eyes head-on, and Chalice set down the last glass of wine Rodeo had poured without drinking it.
“So it really was just a gesture of thanks.”
“As I said.”
“You didn’t have to go that far. Since when did an Esper bother with something like gratitude.”
Even at a remark that was clearly meant to provoke, Rodeo’s jaw tightened.
“You’re right. Since when, to Chalice, has an Esper ever been human enough to bother with such a face-saving gesture.”
“…….”
“…….”
“It’s late.”
Chalice stood from his seat with a look of resignation. Right before Rodeo’s eyes, Chalice gave a brief tilt of his chin toward the clock, then without so much as a goodbye turned toward his bedroom. His stride away was quick — yet to Rodeo, Chalice’s steps toward his room felt like slow motion. Each time his foot met the floor, a single word surged up and threatened to break free — Rodeo reached and reached for reason to stop it — but whether it was the wine, reason wasn’t enough to seal that mouth. And so that utterly rude, utterly unwarranted question burst out.
“Why on earth do you live like this?”
Chalice stopped walking, closed his eyes as though struggling to find reason, then opened them.
“…Don’t cross the line. Shut that mouth while I’m still holding back.”
“Then let me change the question. Why did you stand by and let the world become like this?”
Chalice, who had been about to ignore it with his back still turned, caught the question and looked back. His face said there was nothing to be surprised about.
“You said it wasn’t a difficult place to adjust to.”
“That was a lie. None of it makes sense.”
“Makes no sense?”
“They say it’s a world now where Espers get married.”
“Guides do too.”
“Is that right? Then why didn’t you?”
Chalice looked down at the floor and laughed.
“Because I didn’t think I’d still be alive at this age.”
“You’re not even going on missions, so what—”
“Ah, ten years ago it was because of missions, and after that… hospitalization became routine.”
“…….”
Chalice’s shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. Rodeo looked as though lost in thought, then ruffled his own hair with what seemed like irritation.
“If there’s something you want to ask of me — ask.”
“Ask?”
Rodeo squeezed his eyes shut and opened them, looking at Chalice.
“Tell me why you moved here. Isn’t there something I can help you with?”
Chalice’s face froze in an instant. That face — Rodeo knew it. The eyes of a demon watching enemies on the battlefield. Irises cold as ice, and within them, a single hawk fixed on its prey. The chill that permitted not a single muscle in his face to move — it should have made Rodeo feel like that prey, his body locking up — and yet Rodeo felt something close to relief. Yes. This was Chalice. Not something unknown, crumbling and holding its breath like a tiger with no teeth — but the expression of someone looking down from above. This was him. The moment Rodeo felt that satisfaction, a short laugh escaped Chalice’s face.
“What situation could possibly exist where I would ask something of you.”
“Ah — none?”
“There’s nothing like that, so stop concerning yourself with me and focus on your own life.”
“…Reconsider. I’ve heard your situation is difficult.”
“My situation? There’s nothing difficult or otherwise about it anymore. If anything, compared to a few years ago I’m quite free. But you — you don’t even know yet what’s changed, and isn’t that a little too arrogant of you.”
Rodeo felt a rush of exhilaration at finally meeting the face he knew — and yet he was also on the verge of snapping at Chalice for still clinging to his pride.
This era, ten years on, was increasingly filling up with people neither of them knew — and the disappointment at Chalice for watching that happen, and alongside it an absurd, far greater pity, gnawed at Rodeo the entire walk home. After what could barely be called a conversation, and with his barely managed effort to calm the confusion now rendered meaningless, Rodeo had been dragged back into that same whirlpool of emotion.
“Arrogant? So what — you tuck your tail and hide away among civilians? You think that’s the wise thing to do?”
“Seems like you haven’t grasped the situation — the one who needs help and has the most to ask for here is you. Help me? Know something first, then talk about wisdom.”
Even Chalice, who almost always kept his composure, bared his teeth and raised his voice.
“An Esper who disappeared ten years ago and came back — that’s all you are, nothing more, nothing less. Who exactly respects and treats you so well that you’d help me? Go ahead, go to the facility and talk. See what happens.”
“Oh, is that so? I have plenty of paperwork to sort through tomorrow anyway — I can take care of it all at once.”
“The ones who remember you will be crawling out of the woodwork, so sit back and enjoy the show of how they come at you.”
