Where was that cafeteria again?
I tried recalling the route Mr. Blonde had taken us to showcase the school's emblem, but the map was extremely lacking in obvious details that could be used as a reference. I've barely learned the layout of this school, with only Mr. Blonde's office and the school's lobby being the places in the building that have left an impression on me.
Do I have to wait until lunch to eat?
I navigated the dorm rooms until I found myself outside.
There stood the woman I had encountered earlier, standing a few feet from the dorm's entrance
Oh, was she not done talking to me?
She belligerent spoke more syllables, raising her finger a few times to emphasize her words.
She's talking to a figurative wall. I'm sorry lady, but your words are essentially falling on deaf ears.
The woman went on for minutes, making plenty of gestures and faces. I'm certain that she'd be responsible for a lot of the "firsts" I had experienced after my reincarnation.
When she was finished, she puffed a breath, before crossing her arms.
That sounds wonderful miss, but I understood nothing you've just said. I wish I could give you a more thought-out and considerate answer for whatever I did to piss you off, but the only thing I'm interested in is experiencing my first meal in this world.
I bowed, hoping to soften the blow of anything that I'd do in case it was considered disrespectful, before walking past her.
She placed a hand on my left shoulder, firmly gripping it before forcing me to turn and face her.
The grey-haired woman angrily spoke more syllables in my face.
Yeah, ignoring her was never going to work. How do I-
She tapped my right cheek on my face, before speaking more indistinguishable words.
Huh?
What does she want with my mouth?
I looked at her up-close face, trying to decipher what she wanted from me.
It's clear that she wants an answer. However, unlike my summoner or Mr. Blonde, she wants me to use my mouth. Did she not hear me speak English? I thought for sure she heard me speak a language she couldn't decipher.
Suddenly, she backed away, sounding apologetic in her speech. She must've realized she was too close to me and thought it made me uncomfortable.
I thought that was the end of it, but she still had the same expectant look on her face.
Do other languages exist in this world? It'd make explaining my predicament more convenient, but it looks like I'll have to brute force ideas using my power.
Unsure of what answer she was expecting, I pulled out the room key I was given, hoping to initiate some form of communication.
The woman merely adjusted her square-frame glasses as she looked at the key, before returning her gaze to me.
That was barely a reaction!
I put the key back in my pocket.
Calm down. If she reacted indifferently to the key, then she acknowledges I'm a student here. Well, there was also me carrying those boxes, perhaps she reached that conclusion a while ago when she saw me.
But what else does she want from me?
Should I try exercising my right to not speak?
The grey-haired lady spoke more words in a lighter tone, asking a question.
Maybe I should try using my power, but the reactions both my summoner and Mr. Blonde gave told me they were surprised, but how subdued they were tells me it's not unusual for someone to wield supernatural power. The problem is the only basis I have for the extent anyone can wield such abilities is Mr. Blonde. I'm not sure what my summoner's capabilities are, or anyone else's at this school.
As much as I like to show off what I can do, I'll need to be careful about what I show off.
If my summoner knowingly decided for my existence to manifest in this world, then it's possible he made that choice knowing there are things only I'm capable of.
Suddenly, her attention shifted to something on the grass.
An opportunity to escape?
I tried walking toward the school, but quickly noticed she was chasing after a white paper.
The same map Mr. Blonde gave me!
Shoot! I must've dropped while confronting this woman. I was too absorbed in trying to discern her intentions that I must have accidentally let go of it when she was talking to me.
The woman retrieved the map being pushed by the breeze before returning it to me.
"Thank you." I sheepishly let out.
Her eyes widened at my words.
Crap!
I reflexively spoke those words because of the conventions of manners and etiquette I'd been taught my entire past life.
"Umm…" I accidentally let out.
Stop. Making. Mouth. Sounds!
My stomach growled even louder.
What impeccable timing. Thank you stomach.
The woman's reaction told me she also her my stomach growl from hunger.
She looked back and forth a few times between the map she gave and me, before a look of realization dawned on her face.
She pointed to a room on the map and then beckoned me to follow her before walking toward the school building.
—
It might've been my growing hunger, but I had to sprint a few times to catch up with her. Her flawless navigation of the halls told me how familiar she became with the layout, compared to me who needed to double-check the map and environment a few times just to make sure I was in the correct spot leading to my destination.
Eventually, we found ourselves in the cafeteria I walked through earlier, this time the smell of food filled the room, and people I presumed to be the cooks moved around performing their duties within the kitchen.
Images of countless dishes ran through my mind as I imagined the kind of food this school would serve to its students.
It was then that I realized something. This would be my first meal in my new life.
I better make sure not to waste such an opportunity!
From a young age, my mother taught me the basic and most essential manners revolving around food.
To never be wasteful and always be thankful.
As I grew up, witnessing instances of people being terrible cooks instilled the belief of never being afraid to tell people that the food they cooked is terrible. The Food and Drug Administration exists for such reasons.
Seeing how lean my new body is gave me another crucial thing to remember: to not overeat and ruin this new body.
One of the cooks in the kitchen noticed us and spoke some syllables. The grey-haired woman answered for us and then started conversing with the cook. At some point, the conversation must've involved me, as she beckoned me over to them.
When I stood next to her, she tapped my pocket, and then I took out my room key.
There was an exchange of nods between them before I noticed the arrangement of food near the kitchen. Seeing no need to continue holding it, I put the key back in my pocket.
A buffet-style arrangement with a wonderful selection of foods. It wasn't as big or diverse as other buffets I've been to, but the smell wafting from it told me it was more than enough.
I looked at the woman before pointing to the food, wordlessly asking if I could get myself a plate without it causing any trouble for the chefs or any schedules that were planned.
She took the initiative, getting a plate for herself and picking her choices from the plates and trays, stopping only to ask something from me. I didn't know what exactly she said, but I had a feeling it was something along the lines of "Are you gonna eat? Or just stand there?"
Forgoing any more need for politeness, I took a plate and started helping myself to whatever looked good, while making sure it was enough for me to eat, balancing between my appetite and my stomach's limitations.