"I didn't know Thoma knew my mom was from Mondstadt! System, why didn't you tell me this?!"
"Wow!"
The System fell silent for a long moment before finally responding.
［Basic profile data did not include the fact that Thoma is actually the son of your mother's sister］ it explained, seemingly perplexed as it cross-referenced all available information. This detail indeed wasn't listed in the essential background materials.
"Wow, do you know how sharp Thoma is? I might not be able to handle this at all!"
I hid in a corner, spiraling into anxiety. Running into a main story character with distant blood ties who immediately recognized me as family—this was Thoma we were talking about. Kamisato Clan's chief housekeeper, right-hand man to Kamisato Ayato himself.
Wouldn't he see right through me, laying me bare like fish on a sushi platter?
The thought filled me with dread.
"Miss Ryuguu, are you alright?"
The question came from behind me.
The young man's voice wasn't as intimidating as his status suggested. Thoma hadn't yet revealed his identity as the Kamisato Clan's housekeeper, only mentioning his relation to this body during our chance encounter—so, taking a deep breath, I decided it was best to maintain excessive caution. I'd excused myself by claiming I needed to adjust my clothes, using the moment in the corner to collect myself.
This was all under the assumption he wouldn't name this body's birth mother—details that weren't written clearly anywhere, forcing me to buy time to verify with the System.
［That excuse was too flimsy］
I kept my expression neutral but stomped my foot internally. Stupid System.
"My apologies, I'm properly adjusted now—"
I walked over to him. The young man stood a full head taller than me, perhaps even more—
"Sorry, that was rather sudden—what I said earlier."
He actually seemed a bit embarrassed himself. I shook my head to indicate it was fine, but then wondered if that was inappropriate by Inazuman standards. Thoma clearly didn't mind; his demeanor remained relaxed, and he used formal address with me, perhaps sensing my strange state.
I was indeed overly agitated—my hands and feet were ice-cold, my heart pounded from a mix of fear and excitement, and my ears were ringing—
I needed to think, to strategize. There was no way he wouldn't find me suspicious.
"I'm sorry, I—" I chose to speak first, regurgitating the backstory I'd roughly prepared. "I am Miya Ryuguu, but I'm afraid I don't remember much of my past. I'm not sure why, but the fragments I do recall don't include my mother ever mentioning her family..."
［Are you doing a translation exercise?］
Shut the hell up.
Only after speaking did I muster the courage to look at his expression. I was afraid of these characters who'd once been pixels but were now real—Thoma's expression had also shifted slightly, and not in a positive way.
"...Perhaps I just forgot," I added.
He seemed to ponder this for a moment.
I had a feeling this conversation wouldn't end quickly. Sure enough, when his gaze swept our surroundings and settled on a particular spot, I could almost predict what he'd say next.
Thoma suggested, "I know a place where we could sit and talk—Miss Ryuguu?"
Those friendly green eyes fixed on me, sending a chill down my spine.
I let out a sigh.
"No, please just call me Miya."
——
There was no way he wouldn't be suspicious.
Just think: you turn a corner and knock over a woman who then stares at you wide-eyed. When you mention you might be relatives, she acts anxious and strange, claiming she has amnesia.
How could that not look suspicious? Extremely suspicious!
I thought he might take me to the legendary Komore Teahouse, but Thoma seemed genuinely intent on finding a nice restaurant for a proper meal. Along the way, he asked about my preferences.
Thanks to him, I did relax a bit.
I tried to struggle subtly.
"Um, Mister Thoma, you seemed in a hurry earlier. Will you be alright delaying your important business?"
"Ah, compared to that, you're more important right now, Miya—" He met my gaze with startling sincerity, making my socially anxious heart pound so hard I thought my eyes might twitch. I could only steel myself and endure the burn of his earnest stare.
"I only met Aunt Minella when I was very young. While your personality seems quite different from hers, your eyes are exactly the same."
He gestured vaguely toward my face, then pointed to his own eyes.
"They're both green, you see～"
I simply couldn't handle such intense directness. My face was already burning, and I embarrassedly looked away, focusing on the path ahead while instinctively touching the corner of my eye. I hadn't actually seen what I looked like since arriving here—so my eyes were green.
A soft chuckle came from beside me.
I decided to retract my mental praise of Thoma's social skills. For an introvert like me, he was absolutely lethal.
Perhaps I'd been overestimating how intimidating he was. His character description didn't just mention he was the Kamisato Clan's loyal housekeeper—it also said he was warm and kind. I relaxed my shoulders slightly. The young man beside me spoke up, "How about there? Their hotpot is pretty good."
I looked up. "...Ah, hotpot?"
I was inexplicably reminded of hotpot-cooked cake.
By the time I was ushered into the restaurant and sat dazedly at the table, Thoma had already finished exchanging pleasantries with the owner and was browsing the menu. He sat at a polite distance, sliding the menu toward me with expectant, shining eyes, waiting for me to order first.
It was filled with Japanese dishes I'd never seen before.
I hesitantly pointed to a few fried items—at least deep-frying was hard to mess up—then quickly pushed the ordering responsibility back to him. I thought about the Mora in my backpack; after fighting Hilichurls all the way here, I'd scavenged several thousand Mora. Having money gave me confidence, and I even prepared to sneak away and pay the bill if things became too overwhelming.
Then I watched in horror as Thoma circled a three-digit priced dish on the menu.
Then another.
And another—
Even though he hadn't said I was paying, I was already anxious about my insufficient funds.
"—Miya, are you alright?"
Thoma noticed immediately, his gaze gentle yet feeling like it saw right through me. "Are you feeling unwell somewhere?"
I forced a wide smile. "It's nothing. Just some anxiety."
His eyes were full of question marks.
"Really, it's fine. I'm just... poor," I said deadpan.
"Pfft—"
Did someone just laugh?
I looked around—
"Not that I mind, but Mister Thoma, did you—" I stared at him, a strange courage rising within me. "Did you just laugh?"
He turned his face back toward me, the corner of his mouth twitching. "No, I didn't. Perhaps Miya misheard?"
You've been laughing this whole time!
You haven't stopped!