Chapter 50: Rice's Terrorist Story

(Monjayaki)

"Tonight's dinner is Monjayaki."

"What is that?"

In front of the griddle placed on the dining table, Sora held up a spatula weighing over 10 kilograms to make this announcement, while Leorio let out a sigh and asked a question.

In order to see Killua, I had stayed at Zebro's mountain hut for 10 days, attempting to breach the gate that clearly indicated common sense did not apply to this house.

During the declaration by Sora, who was in charge of meals during the stay, everyone except Gon wore a strange expression.

I was not satisfied with the food Sora made.

Gon and the others had fully understood from the second exam that Sora could cook normally, and that she was also delicious.

Zebro and the servants are the lowest among the Zoldyck family servants; their workplace is closer to the outside than the mansion, so they do not have to prepare meals. Therefore, when I am on shift, I tend to go into town to eat or rely on fast food rather than cooking for myself.

I had no complaints. Not at all.

So, the reason the faces of the others, besides Gon, were so complicated was because her cooking skills were not that great, but sometimes anxiety would accompany her.

He claimed to be "crazy about eating," so Sora would never imitate playing with food, but not every Japanese person, let alone those close to Japanese dietary culture, is unfamiliar with Sora. Everyone knows that puri is fine, so there seemed to be an uneasiness of "will it be okay?"

Kinpira Gobo, which looked like nothing more than stir-fried tree roots, and Braised Pork, which looked like a large chunk of meat and looked very sticky, were unexpectedly delicious, contrary to my first impression, so I was worried. Sora, although I know this is rude, what makes me uneasy is this woman.

And today, Sora seemed to have decided to source ingredients from somewhere to make what he wanted to eat, rather than using a menu that others were familiar with and harmless, so he put down the spatula in his hand and explained what this dish was. To make.

"My world... the local cuisine of the country... is it like this?"

"I don't know anything, and I have no veto power, I eat."

However, he said it was better not to explain at the beginning, rather than in the middle, and he was pushed onto Leorio again.

The anxiety was more intense, but even so, I still thought, "Is it okay?" and sat down.

I sat quietly because there was nothing strange about the ingredients, nor were there any unfamiliar ingredients I had never seen before.

But at the same time, looking at the things in the three bowls lined up next to the hot plate, "What is this guy going to do?"

Common in the bowls was a pile of shredded cabbage.

There were many ingredients, but this was about the common ingredients. Some bowls were filled with seafood, such as squid, shrimp, and clams, others were filled with shredded pork, and some had a pile of spicy Mentaiko on top of the cabbage.

Some bowls were filled with bean sprouts and green onions that looked healthy, while others had a yellow soup with a spicy flavor, and for some reason, there were also bowls of crushed instant noodles.

Mixing these three seemed chaotic, but if you cook them separately, the combination wouldn't be that strange, so the anxiety wouldn't be as great as it was at the beginning.

However, since they still didn't know how to do it, the little anxiety of Leorio and Zebro did not disappear; they looked at each other and tilted their heads slightly.

Kurapika, who was puzzled from the beginning, held a bowl of ingredients, tilted his head, and opened his mouth.

"I mean, how is it different from 'Okonomiyaki'?"

Apparently, only his own confusion had a different cause.

Kurapika's confusion was that three years ago, in the short month he spent with Sora, he had almost no chance to cook, but he noticed that the ingredients were very similar to the dishes he made in those few opportunities, but I was confused because I was worried that Sora called me by another name.

"Ah, it's hard to say different, but it's not the same. Imagine the past life of Okonomiyaki as Monjayaki."

"Wait, the mystery has increased even more."

Kurapika's question reminded Sora of making Okonomiyaki, and when he answered with a nostalgic smile, Kurapika jumped in immediately.

When I was told it was something like a "relative," I thought it was something like curry and rice, but I didn't expect "past life" to appear, and not only Kurapika, but Leorio and the others were even more confused.

However, there was a Hunter sample who could be purely excited about the unknown without feeling anxious, even if this mystery had been called a mystery until now.

"Hehe, Sora! Are you going to do this now? Can I try it?"

Looking at the bowl full of ingredients, the electric stove, and Sora, Gon's eyes shone as he asked for the spatula.

The broken left arm had just healed, but the physical strength was contrary to the age and appearance.

"Yes, yes, yes. But this is not difficult to make, there is just a little trick, so please watch first, from the second time on, everyone will help you."

"? Isn't it just grilled?"

Just surprised by Sora's answer, and then asked back. Kurapika had the same face.

In his memory, "Okonomiyaki" was made by mixing ingredients in a bowl and then baking it like a pancake, so he thought it was the same method.

"Okonomiyaki is fine too, but Monjayaki is more watery than Okonomiyaki, so fry the ingredients a little first."

Perhaps noticing Kurapika's thought, Sora mentioned the afterlife of Monjayaki, while skillfully leaving most of the juice in the bowl, only pouring the ingredients onto the heated iron plate, while explaining.

"The first item is Seafood Monjayaki. The soup base is salt-based and light. I tried to make it healthy with plenty of seafood and vegetables."

"I am grateful for that."

When I explained what kind of Monjayaki this was, Zebro answered in a pleasant voice. Due to the nature of his work, he had physical strength that his generation could not match and an appetite proportional to it, but as expected, he did not like greasy or heavy-flavored food because he was old.

Looking at the three of them, they were in the most hearty appetite of their lives, and they were not that rude in words and attitudes, but their tension had eased a little.

However, Sora must have known that this was not enough for them.

"The other two are Curry Pork and Mentaiko Cheese," Leorio and Gon said.

While Sora watched this scene with a smile, he used a spatula to chop the ingredients and then fried them.

When the small shrimp were dyed red and white and curled up, Sora stopped frying while cutting, and while explaining, used the spatula to scrape the ingredients to the center of the iron plate.

"After cooking to a certain extent like this, make the material into the shape of a donut. Then, pour the remaining juice in the bowl into the middle. The water is watery, so if you don't make a bank like this, it will flow all over the iron plate."

Sora dug a hole in the center of the ingredients, skillfully circled it, and poured the remaining broth into the bowl. Everyone agreed that this was what they called the "not difficult, but there is a trick" part.

The first dish was light and healthy, and it wasn't that exciting for the three of us who eat so much, but the vegetables and seafood grilled on the iron plate, the taste of the soup directly stimulated our appetite. From nose to stomach. I know you are there.

As if to provoke them, the dough gathered in the center of the ingredient bank would burst and emit small bubbles.

"When the dough starts to thicken, break the bank and mix the ingredients evenly, then spread them on the iron plate."

Sora said, and actually used the spatula to spread the dough mixed with soup and ingredients over the entire iron plate. The thin dough made it easier for heat to pass through, and the bubbles appearing on the surface became larger.

Before they knew it, everyone had completely forgotten their worries and confusion, and while waiting impatiently for the completion, Sora picked up a curved wooden spatula from the edge of the table, one size smaller than the one he used. The number of people who came out.

"Yes."

"?"

Everyone looked at Sora with puzzled expressions.

The spatula was too small to really flip it, and since the batter had been spread thinly over the entire iron plate from the start, I realized I couldn't flip it anymore.

Should I mix it again? Without waiting for anyone to ask, Sora said straightforwardly.

"It's already done; use this to scrape it off the iron plate and eat it yourselves."

"Eh!?"

Involuntarily, everyone raised their voices and took two looks at the "Monjayaki" on the iron plate.

Kurapika asked: "Wait a second, is it over already?! Is there another process?!?"

"An iron spatula is easier for scraping, but the heat will transfer directly to the spatula, and it's very likely to burn your Tongue or lips, so this way is better. By saying '

"You did it!"

"Sora, what are you doing!?"

"I thought you were using a knife to flip it yesterday, but this is what you made!?"

"Do you have time!?"

Not minding that everyone, including Gon, was speechless at Sora's direct answer, Sora had a lot to say; unexpectedly poked by everyone, Sora changed to a wooden spatula and ate it half-raw. While calmly scraping the batter that could only be seen on the iron plate.

Seeing this, everyone crouched down one after another, reaching out to stop her.

The technology related to food preservation and hygiene management in this world is as advanced as in Sora's world, but there are also some countries that, even if they know in theory that raw or near-raw food can be avoided, still avoid raw food. In Sora's world.

Conversely, in Japan, where eggs and Fugura are always eaten raw, a few people are the minority.

Precisely because of this, Gon and the others had a strong impression that eating raw and half-cooked food would hurt the stomach, rather than tasting good.

However, that image shattered instantly.

The moment Sora put the seafood Monjayaki into her mouth after scraping it with the spatula, she smiled happily.

Although the heir to the assassin family is a worthless family, perhaps because she is a young lady from a wealthy family with a long history, contrary to her usual words and deeds, she spent generations researching and studying expensive Gem Magic. A person with good dining etiquette, never speaking with food in her mouth.

It was a very small bite, but I chewed it well, so it took me a while to swallow it, but all the while, I was struck by the smile that silently expressed "delicious." It was a smile more persuasive than a million words.

The first to make a move was naturally Gon, who possessed the qualities of a Hunter exploring the unknown.

Do not use a spatula to scoop up the batter on the iron plate like Sora, just like drinking stew; use the spatula to press on the batter, then scrape off the part facing the iron plate that is slightly scorched, keeping it as it is. Send it directly to your mouth.

"!? Leorio! Kurapika! Sefuro!"

Still holding the Monjayaki in his mouth, and it was quite hot, he suddenly waved his hand that wasn't holding the spatula to let the heat dissipate; the other three all stuck out their Tongues. A child who didn't turn around.

Unlike stew or soup, the vegetables and batter absorbed the umami of seafood like shrimp and shellfish. It was especially delicious, and I think what was "interesting" was the texture and consistency.

The texture of the seafood was different, the vegetables were still mostly raw and crunchy, and the vegetables were just a mix of cooked and tender; I don't know if it works, but the batter was smooth and sticky, almost like stew, and there was the crispy, charred part that touched the iron plate.

The taste, texture, and finished product were all different from what you make yourself. Eat grilled

This time it was bigger than before, and I scraped it off.

No one scolded Gon, who insisted on sharing the pure taste of Monjayaki with a face as happy as Sora's.

The remaining three also silently used spatulas to scrape the Monjayaki off the iron plate and put it into their mouths.

"Ah-fee! But what on earth is this?!"

Like Gon, the heat of the Monjayaki made it difficult for Leorio's Tongue to move, continuing to eat the Monjayaki to fight back.

Zebra and Kurapika were speechless with their mouths full; the moment they took a bite, their eyes widened just like Gon's.

The two wanted to eat the part on the edge of the grill that was grilled well, but the batter that had completely lost its moisture and become crispy was almost like a snack; like stew, it didn't feel like the heat was spreading through the whole body. Just one bite could keep your body warm, but it didn't keep the heat in your mouth, and it was crispy and delicious enough.

Seeing that everyone had taken at least one bite, Sora asked with a smug look.

"Delicious?"

Everyone was silent, but the answer was clear.

The reason they couldn't answer was because everyone was fighting the hot Monjayaki in their mouths.

(Pork Vegetable Miso Soup)

The taste of a soup stewed with vegetables, pork, and soybeans (mainly root vegetables) fermented into a seasoning called "Miso."

I think it's a very good smell that can whet my appetite, but for Kurapika, things like Miso, let alone vegetables and pork, Kurapika shouldn't be familiar with them at all, but the moment I smelled it, I don't know why, I felt very nostalgic.

Perhaps it was because he saw the image of his mother behind Sora in the kitchen of the mountain cabin, stirring the pot with a spoon.

As part of exercising physical strength and endurance, Kurapika and the three of them often ran a round-trip marathon from the mountain cabin to the Testing Gate wearing weights, unless they had something to do.

It was fine to go around three times today, but it might be that Leorio was able to open the first gate by himself, got distracted, went the wrong way, and fell in front of the mountain cabin.

I was just tired and fainted less than 10 meters away from the mountain cabin, otherwise it would be embarrassing, so I thought about bringing some water to the kitchen, and what I saw was Sora's back.

She was singing while stirring the pot, perhaps not realizing that Kurapika had returned.

No, this wasn't actually a song.

"Basically silver and iron. The foundation is Stone and the Archduke of the Covenant. The ancestor is my master, Schweinorg.

A Wall, blocking the descending Wind. Close the four gates, come out from the crown, and circle the three-way intersection leading to the kingdom.

Close it, close it, close it, close it, close it—"

Kurapika recognized that this was a song, but what Sora was humming was a Spell, the summoning of a Servant during the Holy Grail War. What on earth did this woman want to summon?

It probably didn't mean much to him, but if this were used to summon a Servant, what kind of Heroic Spirit would be summoned?

Perhaps the favorite would be an Archer who loves rice, with a very special anti-feast Noble Phantasm by his side.

For now, 8 or 9 out of 10 are Heroic Spirits from Japan, but it is possible that Emiya Shirou introduced Japanese cuisine to Sora, so as an exception, it is possible that the Knight King, who would be caught by the stomach, would come from the fairyland. A little scared.

Fortunately, the pot she used to make Miso soup was not the Holy Grail, so of course nothing was summoned, and Kurapika didn't notice that it was full of things. I stared at Sora's back for a while, and she continued to stir the ingredients with a spoon.

The sight of a woman singing while cooking made me feel incomparably nostalgic.

... But it didn't last long.

I really don't like the fact that Sora looks like my mother.

Although he dislikes being treated like a "little brother," dislikes being protected and sheltered, he feels he is being spoiled by her more than just that; he has a feeling of wanting to commit suicide.

"... I am an idiot."

"Oh, welcome back, Kurapika. Or rather, just Kurapika? What happened to you two?"

He heard Kurapika's muttering, but not realizing it was a form of self-deprecation, Sora turned around, wondering if he was the only one.

"Leorio went the wrong way and fainted in front of the mountain hut, thinking of bringing him some water. Gon is taking care of Leorio."

While answering Sora's question, Kurapika randomly took a 20kg teacup from the cupboard and drew water from the faucet.

"What is he doing? Kurapika, it's cold, isn't it? Before you take it to him, do you want to taste it?"

After Sora gave an annoyed impression at his answer, he picked up the ball and asked.

That gentle smile and those words stirred up my memories.

In the cold season, when I came back from playing outside with my nose and cheeks red, my mother, who was cooking dinner, would also smile like this and say, "It's cold, isn't it?" and let me eat a little first.

For a moment, I had a feeling of repulsion like "I don't need it," with a completely meaningless stubbornness, but if you give it to me, that anger, stubbornness, and repulsion would vanish into thin air.

Kurapika placed the teacup on the counter and picked up the cup as if he had just thought about committing suicide.

I could handle it lightly like a normal cup, but as expected, the contents were very hot, so I scooped up the contents with a spoon and carefully took a bite.

Perhaps it wasn't stewed for too long, as the original shape of the potatoes hadn't melted.

However, all the vegetables had absorbed plenty of broth and become soft.

Stews and soups where most of the ingredients have melted after long simmering are usually delicious, but for Kurapika, who is at the peak of his appetite, it is better to have the original shape of the ingredients.

Although the amount of meat was small compared to the amount of vegetables, the fat in the meat melted and added sweetness to the salty Miso.

One can imagine that if there were a lot of meat, the sweetness wouldn't make the saltiness mellow, but would only make the stomach feel heavy, so this amount of meat was probably appropriate.

Since Sora started staying here to cook, Miso soup has been made many times, so I have eaten it many times, but this pork soup is the first time I have eaten it.

... This is definitely the first time in my life I have eaten it, yet it makes me incredibly nostalgic.

Kurapika ate the pork soup silently with a straight face, somehow squeezing down his relaxed tear ducts and tightening the heat at the corners of his eyes, conveying it to Sora who was observing the situation. A face that seemed to be thinking, "Huh? Is it bad?"

"... It's delicious. And for some reason, it's a bit nostalgic."

"Nostalgic?"

The first half of Kurapika's impression made him smile with relief, but in the second half, he tilted his head in surprise.

"Does the Kurta Tribe have seasonings similar to Miso?"

He leaned in and asked a question that is usually difficult to ask, quite casually.

However, Kurapika's unreserved, insensitive curiosity could not possibly be asked about his own past and the Kurta Tribe, but he felt nervous and puzzled by such things; I didn't even ask, it was more like the unpleasant feeling of being treated as if someone had touched a bruise, so I didn't mind that the other person was Sora.

On the contrary, he might have felt that he wanted to talk, wanted to let it out.

"No, it's my first time eating it, so it tastes fresh, but... it seems a bit far-fetched, but maybe it's because the soup my mother used to make had little meat and lots of vegetables."

"Ah, that might be the same reason I made it."

"... You don't have a body or a lid."

After pondering for a while and speaking out the true identity of the "nostalgia" that emerged, Sora raised his voice as if convinced, and then answered with a very frank response; Kurapika looked at Sora with an indescribable look in his eyes. Staring.

However, in reality, it was just as Sora said. Looking back, the soup my mother used to make was a regular menu item, but the vegetables in the soup were different every time, and the amounts were different too.

Thinking of my mother's housewife wisdom, thinking of the taste of daily life that only exists in my memory, it felt indescribable, and my tears began to loosen again.

Instead of using a spoon to scoop up the slightly cool soup to hide the film of tears seeping from my relaxed tear ducts, which obscured my vision, I drank it from the cup.

Although it gave Kurapika an image of a mother that made him want to cry, the taste itself wasn't that similar, or even different.

The sadness was exposed.

Thanks to his efforts, the tears didn't fall, but instead, the small thoughts deep in his heart and the regrets that slowly turned into words overflowed.

"... In Kurta, cooking is a woman's duty, and it's not uncommon for men to have never entered the kitchen."

The story started suddenly, but Sora said nothing.

Of course, he didn't ask, "What are you talking about?"

It was as if Kurapika could stop talking when he didn't want to, so he could pretend this conversation never happened.

Kurapika spat out the regrets that surfaced; although he thought he didn't want to be spoiled, he ended up being spoiled. I felt that if I didn't spit it out, I would cry, so he didn't shed tears, but continued to speak as if in confession.

"The men didn't have any special plans, it was just a village, mostly self-sufficient, so men were responsible for heavy physical labor like hunting and farming, and women were responsible for housework, and it seems no one complained about it."

Even if someone lost a family member or spouse, it was taken for granted that the whole village would help each other, so there was no bankruptcy.

... So I never cooked. I never thought about doing it myself. I used to help peel vegetables, but my mother was sick and asleep, and I didn't do it myself, I let the neighbors do it, and the people around me were the same."

"............ That's why it took me so long to realize this."

Kurapika said with a smile while stirring the remaining pork juice in the cup with a spoon.

I smiled because I could truly laugh at my own stupidity.

With a crooked smile that made him want to cry at any moment, he spat out his regrets.

"... Things that should have been lost four years ago... tasted like my mother's food... if I could cook, if I could watch my mother cook and remember,... we would be able to Copy it, even if it wasn't exactly the same."

I noticed the second test. It wasn't until the cooking exam that I realized the first dish I made in my life was too terrible, and my knowledge and skills were not enough.

Since Kurapika didn't have a Fixed place of residence, even after losing his hometown, he didn't have the chance to cook for himself until the second exam. The stereotype that "cooking is for women" was a good distraction.

Four years ago, I had the childish wish of "eating something my mother made" over and over again. Although I wanted to, I felt it was as unlikely as the wish to "see my fellow tribesmen," so I gave up.

I realized that this kind of giving up was salvation.

Looking at the remaining pork Miso soup ingredients in the cup reminded me of my mother's soup.

If it were a Material, I could remember it. The ingredients were slightly different each time, and there were many wild vegetables and mushrooms unique to the forest that were not distributed outside, so it would certainly be difficult to obtain, but not impossible.

However, Kurapika didn't know what to do next.

Kurapika didn't even know if these vegetables should just be peeled, chopped, and boiled, or if they needed to be prepared beforehand by frying or removing the scum.

As for seasoning, that was completely impossible.

Although he still remembered that taste, no matter how he thought about it, no matter how he reminisced, Kurapika did not know what seasonings were used, or how much.

He even subconsciously thought that if his mother chopped up vegetables and meat and boiled them in a pot with water, it would naturally turn into that kind of soup.

... He wanted to keep holding onto this foolish belief.

He did not want to know that it was possible.

Although he knew it was retaliation, Sora, who had made something that made him so nostalgic, realized that even if it were possible, doing it with his own hands was hopeless, and he remembered the second exam. The entire family, including Kurapika himself, had their potential cut off as it should have been.

There was no anger or resentment. But it was not because he was too calm that he seemed unreasonable. He just didn't have the energy to feel such intense emotions.

What was burning in his heart was a truly irredeemable, pathetic regret and resentment over "Why?"

Although his heart was filled with such pathetic things, his small pride, his stubbornness, screaming that he didn't want Sora to see it again, he still ate the pork soup that had cooled down a lot, and he drank it. He swallowed it with his weak voice.

"... I'm sorry."

Kurapika suddenly ended his monologue, as abruptly as it had begun.

As expected, Sora did not bring up Kurapika's story.

She did not try to ask too deeply, but she also did not follow up with a "don't worry," she suddenly said it herself.

"Kurapika. Thank you."

His own apology was sudden, but Kurapika was startled by Sora's sudden thanks. He didn't know how many times Sora's words and actions had been vague, making him unable to ever get used to it, yet he was reminded once again.

The twisted self-deprecation and self-mocking smile that had originally made her almost cry turned into a blank face, and then Sora continued to speak, looking at her with an amused and happy smile.

"I like Japanese food because it's the taste of my hometown, but I can't cook it or eat it myself.

... There is a country here with a very similar culture, so it's not hard to gather the Material, but it's still slightly different. Even though it's a long island nation, the taste of seasonings and the like varies by region, making it difficult to reproduce the authentic taste of the hometown I am familiar with and love.

That is why I feel so lonely cooking and eating Japanese food alone. It's so nostalgic, and the differences remind me of the people who taught me how to cook and the people who ate with me, as vivid as water. It's subtle, but for me, it's a completely different taste; it reminds me of the world I am in now, and makes me face the fact that those people are gone and I cannot see them."

Kurapika immediately regretted his words from a few seconds ago. A sense of guilt pierced his chest.

He couldn't help but hate himself for not knowing how to cook. This was something he could think of as soon as he thought about it, but he was certain and believed in it.

Even if Sora could not return to her original world, he had always thought that he could create the nostalgic taste of his hometown. He selfishly envied that.

He hadn't expected that Sora's current situation was too cruel.

He couldn't imagine that this wasn't because of her own fault, but because the world was so different that she could only create things that were very similar but subtly and decisively different.

Everything in this world was so different that it made him give up even more than Kurapika; if it were completely impossible to reproduce the taste of home, he could imagine how much it would save. About her loneliness.

Even so, despite the fact that he should have voiced such insensitive complaints, Sora still smiled happily and told Kurapika.

Looking straight at him, saying "Thank you."

"But, of course, if you eat with the people you love in this world, like Gon and Leorio, all these emotions will be blown away.

It's a pity I can't see those people, but remembering that I have gained an important person, I cannot replace them, and I cannot replace them. At first, 'Is this food? Are you okay?' I was worried, but when I heard it was delicious, I really won! I feel like I'm in the middle of the day.

That's why, Kurapika. Thank you.

He always says it's delicious. Eat what I make."

He joked about why he had been in charge of cooking in this mountain cabin, why he had been making so much Japanese food, and why he didn't want to know too much about the Japanese food that had left him with a bad first impression. As usual, Kurapika couldn't say anything to Sora.

Sora did not tell Kurapika's story. Just as he had wished, although he had acted at the beginning as if he hadn't said such things, he had not ignored Kurapika's vomiting complaints and grumbles.

No matter how difficult to understand, no matter how small and trivial, they could always find it, pick it up, and save it.

Although he was helpless because he only received from Sora and couldn't give anything back, she told him that he was not helpless and that he was valuable.

Kurapika couldn't say anything to Sora, Sora crying for her mother's mercy and help.

When he said "thank you" himself, he would repeat his own story, making Sora non-existent. He didn't want to waste her care, but didn't know what to say, so he had to drink from the already empty cup and cover his face.

Sora looked at Kurapika's clumsiness, because he lacked honesty as usual, which was easy to understand, and then shouted at him with a smile.

"Do you need another one?"

"... Do you have any other flavors?"

Kurapika replied to Sora with some annoyance, and Sora laughed, as if she knew what he really wanted to say, even though he hadn't said anything.

... Regret and regret were still smoking.

It might disappear one day, but he knew it still had a long way to go.

Even so, Kurapika, who continued to look down for a short while, felt much more relaxed, looked up, and smiled.

He knew that smile wasn't as bright as Sora's, but it wasn't the twisted smile from just now, but a proper smile.

He wanted to learn how to cook.

He realized this during the second exam, and after being reminded, he decided to face things that seemed even more distant.

With his own ability, he knew that even if it took decades to reproduce the taste of his mother in his memory, the taste of daily life was just wishful thinking.

It was highly likely that it could not be replicated. He already knew that the things he intended to remember were actually more likely to be beautified by memory correction.

But, even so... if he could make something he considered "delicious" even if he couldn't replicate it, then she who was smiling in front of him would eat it and say "delicious" with the same smile. Then... he felt his thick regret and remorse being extinguished, sublimated into "memories."

At the very least, the word "cooking" no longer reminded him of the despair of "I cannot replicate it myself."

You can dream of the future. You can paint a scene that will one day become a memory.

Kurapika smiled and handed Sora a cup, because he was really looking forward to it.

＊＊＊

Just as Kurapika handed the cup to Sora, a voice rang out: "What are you two doing?"

The two turned to face the voice, and Gon puffed out his cheeks and said: "Ah, only Kurapika is cunning!" Kurapika asked with an indescribable expression: "Didn't you bring me water?"

In Leorio's eyes, this was a sarcasm, implying "Why are you flirting as usual, go to Explosion?" Looking at the teacups in turn, he answered confidently.

"Sorry, I completely forgot."

"Only at times like this do you show your honesty in the wrong direction!"

Leorio fell into Kurapika's twisted words and actions, which for some reason were so similar to Sora's that it would be strange if they weren't blood-related, and Sora and Gon laughed while holding their stomachs.