The rest of the ride passed in quiet ease, with only the music and the gentle hum of the engine filling the air.
Though that calm was reserved for just about an hour, before Dantalion finally broke it by asking what flavor of potato chips they wanted.
He gave three options, deadpan as if announcing military rations:
Cheese.
Sour Cream and Onion.
Barbecue.
Just three.
But before either of them could even decide, Dantalion simply snapped his fingers and made three of every flavor appear. They tumbled onto the backseat--Atsuko's territory. Without turning, he casually told her to hand out whichever one, if any of them asked.
Kujou Sara demanded hers to be any of the three.
Typical.
Thus, Atsuko handed the General the Sour Cream and Onion; it was the first thing her hands touched, so she just picked it.
The General was fine with anything.
Atsuko blinked at the pile beside her.
Each container looked the same: tall, smooth cylinders of glossy cardboard, capped with thin, seemingly transparent lids that popped with a faint click when pried open. The kind of packaging where once you reached in for one chip, you somehow ended up emptying half the stack without realizing it.
She turned one in her hands--the design of the wrap was just the color of the flavor, with the corresponding text written on it for identification.
It was plain.
Atsuko tried to open one, pressing her thumb under the lid until it popped off with a satisfying snap.
Beneath it, however, lay yet another obstacle--a thin, silvery film stretched taut across the mouth of the container, sealing the chips inside.
She tried looking at how the General opened hers, but it seemed the General was already in the eating phase.
Atsuko looked again at the paper-like film at the mouth of the container and saw something she had missed earlier--there, tucked neatly against the rim, was a tiny tab meant for pulling.
She pinched it between her fingers, tugging carefully at first. The seal stretched, crinkling with a faint metallic rasp, before giving way all at once with a sharp rip, carrying with it the concentrated smell of potato starch and flavoring powder.
Inside, the chips were perfectly curved, unnaturally uniform. Atsuko reached inside to take one. Her fingertips brushed against the smooth, brittle surface, and a faint scrape echoed as she slid it up the cardboard wall of the container.
Atsuko then brought it to her mouth, biting down with a crisp snap that echoed louder than expected in the quiet cabin.
Though a second sound of chewing was also heard, particularly from Kujou Sara.
Kujou Sara and Atsuko's thoughts upon eating a few chips were;
Kujou Sara's thoughts on it were flat: "This offers no nutritional value."
Atsuko's, however, were simpler: "Eer... It's alright."
"I agree," Dantalion replied to their thoughts, "This is a globally mass-produced snack back where I'm from."
He tilted his head slightly, eyes still on the road, his tone casual and unbothered.
"You could already guess how cheaply it's made with just a few slices," He went on, "The company that made it wanted to avoid value-added tax, so they instead lowered the use of actual potatoes."
The crunching slowed for a moment, the hum of the engine taking back its place in the air.
"Why did you make us eat it then?" Kujou Sara raised a brow; a frown was starting to appear on her face.
"What, you want me to serve you chips from my hometown instead?" Dantalion unhurriedly spoke, "You want Paprika-flavored chips instead of the actual goods ones?"
"That is not what I was asking!" Sara hissed, voice tight, whisper-sharp.
"Don't worry, the rest--with the exception of the ones you two are holding--are real potatoes." His explanation doesn't contain any apology at all.
Inside he thought, 'It's still fried, though--so any semblance of nutrition is basically good as gone or reduced to irrelevance.'
Then he gave it a pause and continued.
"You see," He began again, now with a peculiar lightness, "I brought Atsuko here as an impartial witness. However, she said she doesn't know me well enough to judge whether I am likable or very likable. In such cases, the easiest path toward understanding is to endure a common experience. Even if it is meaningless."
"Now we have a common experience of trash food, HAHA!" He gave a laugh then--abrupt, sharp, echoing too loudly inside the insulated vehicle, a laughter both jovial and cruel at once.
Then it stopped, and he continued in a normal tone.
"Still, you both should finish that before trying the rest instead of throwing it out."
Then, the sound of chips being eaten resounded again. Crunch was first heard in the backseat.
'Well... It's still chips,' Atsuko chewed, gaze drifting out the window, '...it tastes better than the rations on Watatsumi's side.'
While Atsuko herself hasn't tried the rations eaten by the Watatsumi Forces during the war, she had heard from others that they tasted awful after they tried them.
This is probably due to their limited resources.
Or perhaps it's just propaganda.
Atsuko wouldn't know for certain.
Kujou Sara looked at the container in her hand and asked Dantalion.
"Would the ones in the back taste the same?"
At first glance, because of the prior conversation about how it was made, the answer would be obvious.
However, Kujou Sara knew that Dantalion was somewhat exaggerating.
"It's noticeable."
But that doesn't mean what he has said was a lie.
Kujou Sara assumed that if she were to ask him what the percentage of potatoes to flour and starch ratio--Okay, she'd ask him right now.
"How much potatoes are actually in this container?"
"Just about 30% to 42%."
Which, technically, wouldn't make his earlier claims false.
The ratio of flour and starch is significant compared to the actual potato.
It was just extremely exaggerated.
Purely just for the sake of being dramatic.
Kujou Sara sighed and said, "Forget it, potato chips are not considered nutritional to begin with."
Dantalion removed his gaze from the rough road ahead, something anyone who is driving shouldn't do.
"Sara, it's a snack." He said.
"..." She did not reply, but gestured her hand ahead towards the front.
Clearly, a gesture that suggests focus on the road. However, Dantalion ignored it and kept his eyes locked on Kujou Sara's.
This goes on for five seconds. Then, out of nowhere, he stopped the car and got out.
They had all felt a large bump on the rough road...
It would seem that "they" had managed to run over a deer.
But because he was erased from Earth before the release of the anime.
He, unfortunately, can't make any reference to Nokotan.
Kujou Sara and Atsuko watched as Dantalion picked up the dead deer, dismantled it with anemo, then wrapped it and placed it in an icebox.
They didn't step out of the vehicle, just watched him by looking over to the back. After doing all that, Dantalion got back inside the vehicle and said,
"All according to plan."
Definitely.
Dantalion pressed on the gas, and as the vehicle started moving forward again--
"Do you think it's cursed, too?"
---
Later on, as the night approaches.
They set up camp for dinner.
Dantalion stood at the portable stove, a deer's meat portioned neatly on the fold-out table beside him.
As Dantalion was preparing their dinner, Kujou Sara and Atsuko were converting the seats of the car into a bed.
Dantalion had added this feature to his Jeep for convenience. He also added a lot of features that normally weren't on the Jeep, for instance, the interior, which he had taken a lot from the G-Class, combining all the features he liked into one.
One of the changes he made was to make the vehicle a bit longer and larger, so that there would be more space in the backseat and cargo space. Still, it had to be done anyway, even without those reasons, for him, the original interior of the Jeep Wrangler feels and is actually cramped compared to the G-class.
He prioritizes comfort above all for things like these, after all.
He also changed the wheels to be fit for off-roading, making them a bit wider, without affecting the height of the vehicle too much. He didn't have to worry about how heavy and slow it would be, as the power and speed of the vehicle depend on how much energy the driver pours into it.
Honestly, the swapped wheels are just for aesthetic reasons; if it really somehow got stuck somewhere in the sand or mud, he can just lift the vehicle.
But!
However!
Immersion is important.
So he tends to avoid doing that as much as he can.
'Gotta enjoy life and shi...' He thought.
Furthermore, even though he knows how to operate the vehicle and use its features, it doesn't mean everyone does, so he naturally left a manual for such things.
Correspondingly, the reason was that he had left them the task of arranging their sleeping quarters. Besides, Dantalion himself wouldn't really need it; the two women would be the ones using it, so it is just right for them to do it themselves.
There are actually two sleeping quarters installed in the Jeep.
Dantalion looked over to the two women who were currently setting up their sleeping quarters. It seems that they are about to finish, and are now just putting the mattress covers.
'Why are they putting that as the last step? Well, whatever works...' The guy who usually puts the mattress cover on first before placing the mattress down thought.
One of the sleeping quarters--he assumed this would be Atsuko's--was the pop-up camper fixed to the roof, a neat little pod that unfolds.
The second was fashioned from the backseat, extended all the way into the cargo space. They'd had to slide the front seats forward and fold down the back seats, but thanks to Dantalion's adjustments--the vehicle stretched a little wider, a little longer--Kujou Sara would be able to lie down without the faintest cramp of discomfort.
The same could be said for the rooftop berth.
Still, he had his conditions. Should Atsuko utter a single complaint about its comfort--comfort that, in his opinion, was far beyond what anyone had the right to scorn--then, unless she offered some genuine suggestion for improvement, he would not hesitate to make a cock sprout from her forehead for the entire day.
The air outside was beginning to bite, crisp and cool, though night had yet to fully settle in.
Dantalion considered reminding them about the jackets he'd tucked into their luggage.
"The coats are on--"
But before the words could fully leave him, he caught the sound of footsteps. Turning, he saw the two already approaching, each wrapped in the coats he had prepared for them.
They were matching Diamond Quilted Puffer Longline Belted Coats, both in a dark navy that seemed to drink in the evening light. Practical, yet elegant in their way.
He had even woven in a small touch of his own--each coat kept itself at the precise temperature most comfortable to its wearer.
Kujou Sara narrowed her eyes at him. "Do not treat us like children."
Dantalion tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "…You're being very unlikable right now." His gaze slid toward Atsuko as if she might explain, and then, deadpan, he added, "What's up with her? Did she shit herself while prepping her bed or something?"
There was nothing unusual about Sara's words--on the surface, they were perfectly ordinary. It was her demeanor that set them apart, the sharpness in her gaze, the faint edge in her tone.
Dantalion, of course, already had his suspicions. Based on what he knew of Kujou Sara, he could more or less guess the reason.
"This feels nice," Atsuko said instead, sidestepping the question altogether. She smoothed her coat and let the comfort speak for itself, unwilling--or perhaps unable to offer any real answer. Her attention drifted toward the smell wafting from the table. She sat down, choosing the safety of food over conversation.
From where she sat, she could see Dantalion at work. Or rather, finishing his work. He was juggling three dishes at once with unnerving ease, though in truth, he was already past the cooking. The food was done; he was only transferring the final plates to the table.
Atsuko glanced at the spread--steaming, rich, and a little too perfect--and had a guess about the meat. Most likely, the deer that had been "accidentally" run down by the vehicle earlier.
Kujou Sara's gaze lingered on the edge of the awning. From there, she could already trace the faint silhouette of Orobashi's fossil etched against the horizon.
To her, their destination was close. Yet she knew if she were to ask Atsuko, or anyone with ordinary sight, they would see nothing.
Her emotions got the better of her.
Perhaps, because this was not how she usually operated in such missions in the past--thus her unusual demeanor.
In the past--where Dantalion does not exist yet, or at least at the time Dantalion has not appeared yet--Sara was usually alone during high-risk missions, as no one had the ability to keep up with her; anyone besides herself would just hold her back and lead to a more risky outcome than initially predicted.
So, in an unfamiliar scenario where everything was being taken care of--her lodgings, food, transportation, and comfort.
She...
'This is unfitting for my duties...'
Guilt.
She was put in a situation where she contributed nothing. She's no longer the soldier in charge, no longer responsible, but instead someone being fed, clothed, and sheltered without earning it.
As someone whose identity is rooted in duty -- in being the one who shoulders the burdens for others. If she's treated like a passenger, or worse, like someone being "taken care of," she'll naturally feel uneasy.
'This is...--' Sara's thoughts were cut off as Dantalion interrupted it with his palm.
Pak!--the sound rang sharp as Dantalion's palm struck her face.
Yes, not cheek. FACE.
The chair lurched, its front legs lifting a few centimeters from the ground before tilting back to its original place under her weight.
"Truly unbecoming of you," He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as if disappointed. Whether he meant her thoughts or her present demeanor was impossible to tell.
Sara's hand shot to her face, fingers clutching the sting as her eyes locked onto him, ablaze with fury. Anger and humiliation poured from her, her very presence trembling with energy.
The air crackled. Sparks snapped to life across her body, purple lightning weaving and crawling over her like veins of fire. The hum of power grew into a buzzing roar as her control frayed.
Kujou Sara was not the kind to endure humiliation. She was honor-bound, proud, unyielding--her every breath tethered to loyalty, to duty, to the Shogun herself.
Then--
The entire camp flared, bathed in the violent glow of her lightning. Shadows leapt against the tents and trees, dancing madly in the sudden illumination.
Atsuko had already bolted into the dark, fleeing the storm that was about to break.
And Dantalion… he simply stood there, unmoved, watching her wrath as though it were nothing more than a passing wind.
Well, maybe there was indeed 'something' in the ambient air.
---
Some time later.
"See? You just needed an outlet! Haha!" Dantalion laughed, the sound sharp and self-satisfied.
Across from him, Kujou Sara ate in silence. Her expression had returned to its usual composure, calm and disciplined, though the rigidness of her posture betrayed what simmered beneath. She was still seething--he could feel it.
His earlier ploy had backfired. He'd asked Sara and Atsuko to arrange their own sleeping quarters, thinking it might anchor her with a sense of contribution. Something to remind her she wasn't merely being carried along. But the attempt had failed. If anything, it had worsened things.
Perhaps she had seen through his intention. Or perhaps it was simpler than that--an instinctive distrust that clung to him like a second skin, a curse of perception that made every gesture appear suspect. Whatever the case, she had taken it as humiliation.
It did not matter what the reason was.
'It's a fixable issue,' Dantalion thought.
In the end, it all held together.
Like shattered glass bound by strips of tape, fragile and unsightly, but just enough to serve its purpose. A disgusting, unhealthy way to resolve anything--yet so long as the pieces stayed in place, they could still keep moving forward.
She was still here.
A vessel, even cracked and jagged, could still carry water if bound tightly enough. The shards might cut, the shape might never be right again, but so long as it held, the function remained.
'Hm... This must be how people on the left side of the spectrum operate: 'Oh, my roof is leaking, I will never fix it, even though I can, and just put a bucket underneath.'
"…" Dantalion's gaze settled on Kujou Sara.
She wasn't doing anything remarkable--just quietly eating, each movement precise, almost serene.
"Hey… can you stop that? You're making me feel guilty," He said flatly.
Sara paused, chopsticks hovering for a breath before she lowered them to the bowl. She swallowed, met his stare, and narrowed her eyes as if bracing herself.
"…Alright. Go on."
Her tone was calm, but the unspoken message rang clear: 'Run it, I'm prepared for whatever stupid shit that will come out of your mouth now.'
Dantalion only stared back. The silence stretched, taut and deliberate. Five whole seconds passed.
Then, without a word, he broke eye contact, dropped the subject entirely, and went back to eating as if nothing had happened.
Sara's expression darkened as she watched him.
'This man... he is really testing my patience...'
Sara resumed eating as well, though there was a difference now.
Atsuko glanced between the two--the General, and the man whose antics never seemed to follow any rational pattern. What had just happened made no sense to her, yet it had ended in the most infuriatingly anticlimactic way.
Then her eyes caught on something small, almost invisible. The way the General gripped her chopsticks.
If not for their unnatural durability, they would have already bent--or snapped clean in half. The pressure in her hold radiated like a subtle haze, an almost physical weight that seemed to thicken the air between them.
'What is going on?!' Atsuko cried inwardly, frustration curling through her. 'I just want to eat in peace!'
Suddenly--
"Atsuko, how's your arm?" Dantalion asked suddenly, his voice directed toward her.
Kujou Sara was naturally also listening.
Atsuko nearly choked on her food in her rush to swallow, then forced a strained laugh. "It still hurts when I put strength on it… Hopefully it doesn't leave a scar! Haha…"
The laugh rang hollow. She knew--of course she knew--it would scar.
Sara had already realized as much earlier, back when they were arranging the beds. That, too, had fed into the displeasure gnawing at her since. Not because she held Dantalion responsible for Atsuko's wound--injuries were the natural currency of the battlefield. No.
It was because he had made her work despite it.
Dantalion wasn't oblivious. To think otherwise would have been insulting, Kujou Sara believes that. He had noticed. He always noticed. Which made it worse, because he had knowingly asked her to strain an arm that was already injured.
Sara understood Atsuko would not have obeyed her alone. Fear of rank was one thing, but fear of Dantalion was another entirely. His presence pressed on people in ways even the strongest will could not ignore.
There was something in him--something that made defying his expectations feel like standing against the world itself. Disappoint him, and it wasn't simply rejection; it was as though existence itself turned its back on you, leaving you discarded, abandoned, utterly unwanted.
That was the weight he imposed.
Thus, Atsuko would--
Sara froze. A weight pressed against her, a gaze.
Dantalion's.
When she turned to meet it, she was caught off guard. His eyes, his entire expression, carried not their usual, but a weary, almost haggard exhaustion.
"…Yeah, I'm getting tired of you jumping to conclusions," He said flatly.
And then his body fractured. A sharp crack, like porcelain splintering, ran across him. His form shattered all at once, bursting into shards of glass that scattered into nothing.
What remained--what had been there all along--was still Dantalion. Whole. Unbroken. Carrying on his conversation with Atsuko as if nothing at all had happened.
"You're thinking your parents would worry further if they saw that, aren't you?" Said Dantalion, with that peculiar softness in his voice which seemed, at times, a jest.
"..." Atsuko's eyes widened--just a fraction, as though betrayed by her own soul--and then, with equal swiftness, it reverted to her natural state, "As expected of... sir." She muttered, her voice low.
"Dantalion," He corrected gently. "You may call me whatever name you can derive from that."
"Uhm..." Atsuko nodded; she didn't want to continue the conversation further, it seems.
Yet he would not allow it. "And you needn't rush to answer me," He added, his tone warm with a strange, almost paternal amusement.
"You can reply after you've swallowed your food properly." Then he chuckled--low, unhurried, without mockery--and continued: "I suppose it was my fault, asking you a question while your mouth was still full."
Atsuko, hearing that, swallowed her food hurriedly and-- "No, no, it was--Ah... I-I'm sorry!" She exclaimed suddenly, her free hand flying up to cover her face. Her cheeks burned.
She had done precisely what he had told her not to do.
'What am I doing?!' Her mind shrieked in shame, the words bursting within her like a flame trapped under glass.
She looked over through the gap in her fingers, her gaze lingering on Dantalion.
He wore a full white suit--clean lines, sharp tailoring, a double-breasted jacket with a high-waisted, pleated trouser. Underneath, a dark navy shirt provided a deep contrast, the top button undone. His collar was neatly folded. On his feet were Black High Cuban-heeled Chelsea boots, polished to a soft shine.
There are no accessories on his body besides his watch.
And his face--yes, that face! From between her fingers, she saw it bent toward her with the smallest, most unguarded of smiles. That faint, careless smile which belonged not to society, nor to custom, but to him alone.
And then he smiled directly at her--suddenly, like a hand reaching out across the abyss.
She nearly cried aloud in her mind, her embarrassment multiplying.
"I heard that when you were young, a dog chased you because you were running--trying to deliver something quickly--"
Atsuko's embarrassment evaporated at once, replaced by startled outrage. "Wait! Where did you even hear that from?!"
"From your parents," Dantalion said with an easy smile, unbothered. "You were crying when you finally made it home."
And just as swiftly as her indignation had come, the embarrassment returned--this time overwhelming, a tidal wave crashing over her. Her cheeks burned hot; the memory stabbed at her pride. She felt as though the ground itself were mocking her, urging her to crawl inside, bury her head like an ostrich, and never emerge again. Her appetite was gone entirely.
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRR'
As for why Dantalion was acting the way he is to Atsuko right now? Well, gotta be likable.
-Chapter End-
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