Fortunately, before things could get any weirder, Asuka Yamagami suddenly remembered her original purpose.
"Oh! Ritsuka, you should have told me earlier. I only made enough breakfast for two."
Asuka let go of Ereshkigal's hand and stood up quickly. "Just wait a moment, you two. I'll make another portion."
"Grandmother, you don't have to,,"
Ereshkigal's protest was cut short by the elderly woman. "Nonsense. You're at the age where you're still growing; you must eat your breakfast."
"Master, you're still laughing!"
As the grandmother hurried off to the kitchen, Ereshkigal turned to find Wayland stifling a laugh.
It took him several seconds to compose himself. Seeing the girl's flustered expression, he couldn't help but tease her. "Well, what can I say? This is just the irresistible charm of the Goddess of the Underworld."
Unexpectedly, a faint smile tugged at the corners of Ereshkigal's lips, though her tone remained defensive. "Honestly... such a simple situation, and yet Master managed to make it so complicated."
"Actually, I think I know why."
Wayland shook his head, a mix of amusement and realization in his eyes. "Anyone who saw the two of us coming out of the same bedroom at this hour would probably jump to the same conclusion."
Silence.
The only sound in the room was the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock. Ereshkigal's face flared a bright, hot crimson, like a cloud caught in a sunset.
"AAAH!"
She buried her face in her hands, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders in a chaotic mess of embarrassment. "This is all your fault!"
Wayland laughed again. "Relax, it's not that big of a misunderstanding. Come on, let's go and eat."
A pair of beautiful eyes peered at him through the gaps in her fingers, narrowing in a playful glare.
A few seconds later, Ereshkigal huffed, smoothed her bangs, and stood up with as much dignity as she could muster, following him out into the main hall.
***
The Morning Meal
The television was broadcasting the local weather report.
On the low table, three portions of breakfast were neatly arranged.
A bowl of miso soup with sea bream and carrots, a small dish of pickles, three pieces of grilled fish, rice, tofu, and a single egg.
A classic Japanese breakfast.
Following Asuka's invitation, Wayland sat on the floor, pressed his hands together, and offered the traditional greeting. "Thank you for the meal, Grandmother! I'm digging in!"
He picked up his chopsticks and tried the pickles first. The flavor was crisp and refreshing.
Standard pickles, rather than natto.
Wayland had heard of natto,a fermented soybean dish that, while originating in China, had become incredibly popular in Japan, even having its own dedicated festival.
It was an acquired taste, to say the least.
He'd never actually tried it himself.
Once they had finished the meal, Wayland spoke up. "Grandmother, I'm planning to take Ereshkigal out for a walk today to get familiar with the neighborhood. I'll head to the academy to register tomorrow."
"That sounds like a wonderful idea. Go and enjoy yourselves; these old legs of mine don't move as fast as they used to."
Asuka watched as the two youngsters began to clear the table. "While you're out, could you pick up some new tableware and a set of bedding?"
"Bedding?"
Wayland paused. "Grandmother, I thought I saw several spare sets in the linen closet yesterday?"
"You're a boy, so it doesn't matter, but Ereshkigal is a girl. We can't have her using old, secondhand linens, can we?"
Wayland stared at her. The double standard was as clear as day.
Ereshkigal shot him a triumphant, 'you see?' look from across the table.
Wayland felt a literal 'Goddess's Favor' buff hitting him. It seemed there was no arguing with that logic.
"Here, give those to me."
Asuka stood up, reaching for the dishes. "You two head out; I'll handle the washing."
"It's no trouble, really."
Wayland gathered the plates. "I'm the official dishwasher in my family."
Without waiting for her to respond, he hurried into the kitchen.
It was the truth. In his past life, the division of labor had been absolute: Mom bought the groceries, Dad did the cooking, and he took care of the dishes.
The routine was practically etched into his muscle memory.
"Master, do you need any help?" Ereshkigal asked, leaning against the doorframe.
"No, I'm good."
Wayland donned a white apron and turned on the faucet, smiling as the water began to flow. "A kitchen is another battlefield for a man, after all."
"That sounds like something Archer would say." Ereshkigal's eyes sparkled with a soft, mischievous light as she watched him.
"Archer, huh? Speaking of which... Eresh-chan, you're fairly familiar with the Fifth Holy Grail War, aren't you?"
"I know the basics. Mostly from hearing Archer and Artoria talk about it back at Chaldea."
"Whoa. Your Chaldea is quite something, then, if they've managed to summon both of them."
Wayland scrubbed a bowl, curiosity getting the better of him. "What about Gilgamesh?"
"We have him too. He's... well, he's a lot. Very loud, very talkative, and incredibly troublesome."
Ereshkigal sighed. "If it were the version of Gilgamesh from his later, wiser years, it would be much easier. He actually owes me a few favors. Since he usually participates in the Grail War just for the entertainment value, he might even be willing to help us. But unfortunately, the version here is the 'Tyrant' king. He isn't exactly the type to have a civil conversation with anyone who isn't an exceptional hero or a total idiot."
Wayland nodded. The 'King of Heroes' at his peak and the 'Wise King' of Babylonia were indeed very different individuals.
But whether in his youth or his old age, he'd already had his fair share of dealings with Ereshkigal.
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]