Hachiman's Perspective
It's been exactly one day since we arrived at Chantilly Academy in France. The rooms we've been given are more than just "comfortable"—honestly, they're a step up from the dorms back in Japan.
Still, the jet lag is a surreal experience. It's 7:00 AM here in France, but back in Japan, it's already 2:00 in the afternoon. I managed to catch some shut-eye on the plane, but I need to sync my internal clock to local time, and fast.
"Whew... I really need to wrap my head around the fact that this is 'morning,'" I muttered to myself.
"Good morning, Mr. Hikigaya," Fabre called out, approaching me. "How did you find your first night? Were the accommodations to your liking?"
"Good morning, Trainer Fabre. It was very comfortable, thank you. Now I just have to deal with this time difference..."
"That is always the first hurdle," Fabre nodded. "This is your first overseas expedition, so it is only natural. Consider it part of your education."
He was right. I'd set our intensive training period for two months, but I should have factored this adaptation period more heavily into the schedule. Every trip is a lesson, I suppose.
"So," Fabre continued, "what is on the agenda for today?"
"I'm planning to take Rice into town to see the sights," I replied. "I want her to get used to the local food and the atmosphere. If possible, I'd like to stop by Longchamp Racecourse as well."
Fabre raised an eyebrow. "I see. So, no formal training yet?"
"No. It's dangerous to push a body that hasn't fully acclimated. Besides, we did plenty of heavy lifting back in Japan. For now, it's about fine-tuning and mental prep."
Fabre watched me for a moment, silent.
(Fabre's thoughts: Interesting... I heard he was only in his third year as a trainer, but he is remarkably composed. He spoke of the jet lag as if he'd made a mistake, yet immediately pivoted to show that he'd already accounted for it by front-loading their training in Japan. That kind of rapid, adaptive thinking—turning a setback into a calculated adjustment—is a trait many veterans never even master...)
"That seems like a sound strategy," Fabre said aloud. "In that case, would you care to join me for breakfast?"
"I'd be honored. But first..." I turned and knocked on the adjacent door. "Rice? You awake?"
Click.
The door opened to reveal a sleepy but tidy Rice Shower. "Good morning, Big Brother. And... um... bonjour, Mr. Fabre."
"Good morning, Rice Shower," Fabre replied warmly.
Rice's eyes went wide. "Wha?! Y-you spoke Japanese?!"
"I can manage the basic greetings," Hachiman said with a dry smile. "Anyway, Rice, Trainer Fabre invited us to breakfast. You coming?"
"Yes! I'm coming!"
[Common Area – Dining Hall]
Fabre stared at the table, his expression one of pure bewilderment. "...Miss Rice Shower certainly has a healthy appetite, doesn't she?"
"Yeah," I replied, watching Rice work through her mountain of food. "Even back at Tracen Academy, she's known for being a big eater. Do the girls here not eat much?"
"Not like this," Fabre admitted. "We have girls who eat well at lunch or dinner, but to see a girl tackle a breakfast of that magnitude... it's quite rare."
"Is that so?" I mused.
I guess the only ones who could give Rice a run for her money back home are Special Week and Oguri Cap. You won't find many like them in the rest of the world. Well, maybe Hiratsuka-sensei, but she's in a league of her own.
"Big Brother? Is something wrong?" Rice asked, tilting her head.
"Nothing, Rice. Just that you're a bit of a rarity over here because of how much you eat."
"O-oh... is that why everyone is staring? They're thinking, 'How can she eat that much?'" Rice looked down at her plate, a little embarrassed.
"Mornin', Riceee!" Carnegie's voice boomed as she bounced over to our table. She stopped dead when she saw Rice's tray. "Whoa! Are you seriously gonna eat all that?!"
"Ah, Carnegie-san... g-good morning."
"Carnegie, believe me," I chimed in, "when she's actually hungry, she eats way more than that."
"NO WAY!!" Carnegie gasped. "For real?!"
"For real."
Carnegie's eyes flashed with competitive spirit. "Okay... I'm gonna get the same thing! Trainer, I can eat with them, right?"
"It's fine by me," Fabre said, turning to me. "Mr. Hikigaya?"
"Rice, Carnegie wants to join us. What do you think?"
"Of course! That would be lovely," Rice smiled.
"Alright, Carnegie. Grab your food and join the club."
"Yay! I'll be right back!"
A few minutes later, Carnegie returned with a tray piled as high as Rice's. We spent the morning as a group of four, but about halfway through the meal, it became clear that Carnegie was not, in fact, a "big eater." She started to turn a slightly pale shade of green.
"Um... Carnegie-san?" Rice asked, tilting her head with concern. "Are you okay?"
"R-Rice..." Carnegie groaned, her voice shaking. "I don't know what you're saying, but... I can't... I'm done for..." She feebly waved a white napkin in surrender.
"I-in that case... would it be okay if Rice finished it for you?"
"Carnegie," I translated, "Rice is asking if she can take care of your leftovers."
Carnegie looked at Rice like she was a vision of an angel. "Y-you'd do that? Really? You can actually fit more in there?"
"She's worried you won't be able to finish it all," I told Rice. "Why don't you show her some of that Japanese confidence?"
Rice puffed out her chest just a tiny bit. "E-leave it to me!"
"Rice Shower... you are my Savior... my Messiah!" Carnegie whispered, trembling with gratitude.
"In your eyes, I suspect she truly is," Fabre chuckled.
Rice proceeded to polish off Carnegie's breakfast with effortless grace. When she finished, Carnegie lunged forward, hugging her and then literally pressing her hands together in prayer as if worshipping a deity.
"Oh, Great Rice Shower, I offer you my eternal thanks..." Carnegie droned, bowing her head.
"C-Carnegie-san! Please, you don't have to do that! It was nothing!" Rice stammered, flustered by the sudden worship.
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