The pan hisses as leftover rice hits the hot oil. I stir quickly, breaking up the clumps, adding an egg, bacon, and soy sauce. The smell spreads fast and maybe too strong.
Behind me, soft footsteps shuffle closer.
"…What are you doing?" Erika's voice drifts in, half-asleep but suspicious.
I glance back. She's standing in the doorway in her wrinkled pajamas, hair sticking up like she just lost a fight with the pillow. Her eyes lock onto the frying pan.
"Making fried rice," I answer flatly.
She blinks. "You?"
"Yes, me."
She squints harder. "Since when?"
"Since right now," I mutter, turning back to the pan. Father used to make dish, but now... He's gone. So I'm trying my best just to follow his way of cooking in my memory.
The rice sticks, so I crank up the heat. Smoke rises, a bit too much.
Erika coughs dramatically, waving her hand. "Are you sure this is cooking? Because it smells more like… arson."
I glare. "It's fine. This is how it's supposed to smell."
She smirks. "It's supposed to smell like fried rice not like panic and regret."
I bite back a laugh and stir harder. "Sit down before I make you cook your own breakfast."
Instead of listening, she steps closer, leaning on the counter like she's watching a circus act. "No, no, this is good entertainment. You look like you're summoning a demon."
"Maybe I am... A cooking demon." I mutter, while looking at my hands and the pan in front of me.
She snickers. "I just hope it doesn't kill us."
I shake my head, focusing on the pan. Finally, the rice turns a nice dark color, shiny from the soy sauce. Not perfect, but edible. At least, I think so.
I scoop it onto two plates and set one down in front of her. Erika eyes it like it's alive, then cautiously digs in.
She chews, swallows, and raises her eyebrow. "…Not bad."
I cross my arms. "Not bad? That's all?"
"Congratulations," she says, dead serious. "You've officially moved up from 'instant noodles enthusiast' to 'fried rice demon that probably won't kill me.' Truly, a historic progress."
I roll my eyes, but her lips twitch into a faint grin. For a moment, the kitchen actually feels lighter.
We eat quietly for a while. Then I glance at her pajamas and sigh. "You should change after this. You can't stay in those all day."
She frowns. "Why not? School's on break."
"Because acting normal helps," I say softly. "Even if it doesn't feel normal."
Her gaze flicks to the empty chair at the end of the table. She doesn't argue. Just nods faintly and goes back to her food.
I take a breath. Time to set the stage.
"I'm going out later," I say casually, pushing rice around my plate. "Might be back in the evening."
Erika looks up. "Where?"
I keep my voice steady. "Some schools. The big ones. I want to try registering, see what my chances are."
She squints at me. "All today? You planning to teleport?"
I shrug. "No, we are not in that era yet, just being efficient."
Her eyes narrow. "Efficient or suspicious? Because right now you look suspicious."
I force a small smile. "You've been watching too many anime."
She studies me for another second, then sighs. "…Fine. Just don't overdo it, okay?"
"Yeah," I reply quickly, maybe too quickly.
But she's still not done. Erika points her spoon at me with mock seriousness. "And if you are lying, you'd better bring me back a snack. Preferably sweet. Otherwise, I'll know."
I nearly choke. "That's blackmail."
"That's just little sister love," she says with a grin.
We finish in silence after that, but the mood isn't as heavy as it was yesterday. She still laughs, just a little, as I collect the dishes.
But inside, my thoughts are already far from this kitchen. On the folded paper in my pocket. On the truth I'm about to chase.
Today isn't about school.
It's about finding out what really happened.
And if Erika thinks I'm just busy with registrations, maybe that's for the best.