Ayaka wondered if she should ask, "What do you mean?"—but even that small question felt difficult to voice. Her papa was the kind of man who rarely spoke unless the topic concerned magic. He wouldn't answer when she asked about their mother, nor about the origins of the Garden. At times, he simply nodded vaguely, as if that were enough.
And yet—
"It's… Manaka."
His voice broke the quiet. He spoke without looking toward her.
"As for breakfast… I'm sorry, but could you keep her company for a while?"
"Big Sister?" Ayaka blinked.
"She'll probably prefer you. More than me."
"Huh?"
She tilted her head, unable to grasp the implication. Breakfast was always shared between the three of them—Papa, Manaka, and herself. It wasn't strange to hear her sister was in the dining room; time always seemed to move too quickly in the morning anyway. It must still be only a little past 6:30.
"Is Big Sis hungry?"
But as the words left her mouth, a faint sense of wrongness tugged at her chest.
Her big sister… Manaka Sajyou, six years older than she was. Manaka's presence felt overwhelmingly special, almost sacred. Ayaka couldn't imagine saying ordinary things to her—things like, "You're an ordinary child," or "I want breakfast soon." Those lines didn't belong between them. She believed that in her heart. That was why her father's words confused her so deeply.
"It seems she wants you to cook."
"Cook?" Ayaka repeated softly.
She had watched her sister cook countless times. But she had never done it alone—not completely. Usually, her father took over before she tried anything complicated. Yet Papa's tone now… it sounded like Manaka herself had asked for this, and that he was simply relaying her wish.
"Big Sister said that?"
"That's right."
"I… see."
Ayaka nodded meekly. It was strange—very strange—but if Big Sis requested it, then it must be okay. So she thought: This time, I'll cook for her. I'll show her I can do it.
After all, Big Sis was an incredible person. Beautiful, smart, cute… someone who could do anything.
---
"Ayaka, can you bring the plates? And the toast as well?"
"Yes, Big Sister," Ayaka responded quickly.
"Not that one. For the fried eggs and bacon, use the smaller plates. And when you cut the toast, slice it thinly, not thick."
"O-okay…"
Even now, Manaka moved with perfect grace. Prompt, quick, and elegant—so effortlessly beautiful. Ayaka had seen her cook many times, yet this morning felt different. As if Big Sis wasn't cooking for fun… but because she needed to.
Efficiently. Skillfully.
It didn't feel like ordinary cooking, nor like the time she'd been compared to their mother. It was something else entirely—something Ayaka couldn't name. Even the way she felt amazed carried a different meaning now, as if her sister's very disposition had shifted.
The menu alone proved it. Before, they had milk, salad, and bacon with eggs on toast. But today—bacon and eggs on toast, salad, milk, kidney pie, codfish with fried potatoes, cheese and ham, porridge and scones, black tea, plums, sliced peaches for dessert… there was so much food that Ayaka couldn't possibly eat all of it.
Her sister's hands worked quickly, every movement precise. Even holding a kitchen knife, Manaka looked as though she were dancing in a palace hall. Ayaka stared, entranced.
"Thank you, Ayaka. Fufu, why is your mouth open so wide?"
"Uhhh…"
She couldn't say it. She couldn't say that Big Sis looked too pretty.
"I see?" Manaka smiled knowingly.
Ayaka watched her—beautiful Manaka—the kitchen transformed into a bright ballroom around her, sunlight illuminating her like a princess dancing as she cooked.
---
"Umm… the thing more amazing than magic… umm…" Ayaka fumbled.
"What is it?" Manaka asked.
"Daddy said… he said there's one thing more amazing than magic."
"That's right," Manaka replied softly. "That's why I used it."
Her voice held a strange radiance. Even without understanding the meaning, Ayaka felt dazzled. A voice gentle like cherry blossom petals carried the words:
"The magic of love."
Love? Ayaka echoed quietly.
"Fufu. Ayaka, maybe you don't know yet. It's the magic of love, of course."
As she said this, she leaned in—almost as if whispering to someone standing behind Ayaka.
"It's far more amazing than any mystery a magus could wield."
---
Manaka seemed happy—truly happy. Even though Ayaka couldn't remember their mother's face, she wondered if this is what Mama would have looked like when she smiled. Bathed in the morning sun, Manaka sparkled.
Her sister had always been beautiful, but today she was radiant.
"It says in a book that British people like codfish," Manaka said suddenly.
But her smile wasn't the stiff smile adults used. She smiled naturally—soft, bright, alive. It was almost unfair how beautiful she was. Next to her, Ayaka felt small. Useless, even.
A person who could do anything—her big sister. Studying, magic, drills, housework—it didn't matter. Everything felt effortless for Manaka. Even pigeons and cats didn't faze her; she wouldn't freeze up or panic like Ayaka often did.
This morning… she was smiling so brightly. Having fun. Enjoying it.
"Here, Ayaka. Have a taste."
"O-okay… is it alright?"
"It's fine. Try it."
Ayaka opened her mouth as her sister gently fed her a piece of fried fish from slender white fingers. She didn't like fatty foods much, but—
"…Delicious."
Truly delicious. Crunchy, fluffy, not greasy at all.
"It looks like the good luck charm in the sour cream worked," Manaka said proudly. "Good luck charm"
"Good luck charm?" Ayaka repeated.
"To make food taste better. A secret charm. It's even more amazing than magic."
Papa, who was drinking coffee, suddenly choked. He coughed, muttered, "It's nothing," and avoided their eyes. Maybe he was shocked. Magic—good luck charms—these were real things, after all.
Even Ayaka understood that much.