Chapter 21 _ A Girl’s Longing, or No Sharing the Spotlight
After seeing Iris home,
I returned to my room at the inn, still wrapped in a quiet sense of happiness.
The moment I opened the door,
I expected the usual—
“Welcome back!”
—but Frey, in her white cat form,
was standing by the window, turned away, fidgeting.
“…I’m back, Frey.
What are you doing over there?”
I spoke to her, but she stayed silent.
After a long pause,
she asked in a tiny, hesitant voice:
“…W–what does… a kiss feel like?”
My brain immediately went into overdrive.
…Right.
She must have seen what happened with Iris earlier,
peeking in with her all-seeing magic.
And then it hit me.
Standing in front of me was a legendary sage—
but her soul was still that of a ten-year-old girl,
trapped between time and space,
longing for love and warmth she could never reach.
I knelt down, lowering myself to her eye level.
This wasn’t something to joke about.
Not now.
“Frey… love is a really wonderful thing.”
“….”
“It makes your heart feel warm.
But when you’re apart, it hurts.
And you start wishing—deep down—
that you could stay together forever.”
Gently, I rested my hand on her trembling head.
“You’ve given yourself to protect this world.
You’ve watched over people with kindness,
never asking for anything in return.”
“…Frey, you’re truly a wonderful woman.”
“If you were just a little older,
anyone—me included—would fall in love with you.”
“S–so that’s how it is…”
“One day, a true hero will appear and free you.”
“When that happens,
you’ll fall in love for real—
and you’ll understand how I feel right now.”
Frey didn’t answer.
She turned away with a small huff.
Her tiny back trembled.
She was crying.
For two hundred years,
no one had ever touched the loneliness she carried
as a girl.
Maybe my words had reached that place at last.
I stayed there, gently stroking her soft back
until her breathing finally calmed.
After a while, she sprang to her feet,
back to her usual—no, even louder—self.
“M–Mario!
You said ‘when a true hero appears,’ didn’t you!?”
“Why don’t you become one already, you useless man!”
“I–I already have Iris—”
“Tch! Pathetic!” she snapped.
“But… well.
What you said earlier wasn’t terrible.
Heh heh.”
She grinned, clearly embarrassed.
Honestly—she was so easy to read.
“Hey, Frey,” I said.
“Would it be okay if I introduced you to Iris sometime soon?”
“…Hm?”
Her expression hardened instantly.
“I shall be very strict,” she declared.
“This is what humans call ‘no sharing your favorite,’ is it not!”
“…N–no sharing!?”
“Indeed!
The mage role and the heroine role are mine alone!”
“I will not yield my ‘adorable mascot position’
to some blonde girl who just showed up!”
She puffed out her chest proudly,
her whiskers twitching with intellectual dignity.
“I’m far more popular, I’m sure of it!
Remember this well—
the heroine’s seat belongs to me!”
—
A little stubborn.
Ridiculously cute.
And more reliable than anyone else.
In this lively, chaotic life—
so far removed from my old days as a shut-in—
I felt a quiet, undeniable sense of fulfillment.
