A Language of Their Own

“I totally regret vouching for you.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Miho glared at her brother. “You know damn well what I mean. Since when are you the one translating what Silke means instead of me?”

Ah, so that’s what this was all about.

You see, for a couple of days now, Satoru had found a way to communicate more easily with the cute German girl—by renaming everyday actions and objects using terms from RPG games.

For example, when Miho complained about the Wi-Fi signal getting weak, the two teens started calling it “low mana flow.”

For someone who knew little to no English, Silke had a surprisingly wide vocabulary when it came to gaming terms and phrases.

And right now, the blonde girl was walking around, muttering “Grimoire” over and over again.

“Oh, it’s right here,” Satoru said casually, grabbing it from the kitchen counter, where it was hiding right behind the machine of torture known better as the bread cutter.

“Okay,” Miho spoke up. “I could tolerate your nerdy talk before, but this has gone too far! I refuse to believe anyone would say something like ‘Gremrar’ instead of just saying ‘Handy’!”

“It’s ‘Grimoire’—”

“AAH, I don’t care! I was supposed to have the upper hand here! What the hell did I learn German for all this time if I can’t understand a single thing you’re talking about?”

Silke’s quiet chuckle could be heard, even though she was clearly trying her best to hide her amusement. Satoru wasn’t surprised—anyone would find Miho entertaining, even without knowing why she was so upset. Her exaggerated tantrum was enough to make anyone laugh. Wanting to hear more of that melodic sound, the black-haired boy decided to tease Miho a little more.

“Look how the tables have turned, sis. Now I’m the one with the upper hand, but don’t worry—I’ll be kind enough to lend you my translation skill.”

His tone was mocking enough for Miho to immediately catch on. “Aah, whatever. I’m too old for this. I’m taking a nap before the party—where people will actually talk like normal human beings!”

At this point, the blonde girl was laughing out loud. Satoru’s quest was complete.

But as his sister walked toward her room, Silke tilted her head, confused as to why the performance was ending already. He simply explained, “She goes to restore MP and HP.”

Even though they couldn’t see Miho anymore, her voice echoed from down the corridor. “Hell nah! I’m going to sleep! Nap time! Mittagsschlaf!”

Now that they were alone, the two teens chuckled for a while before returning to the game Satoru had been so eager to continue.

When he first started playing it in Germany, he had told himself it would be a different experience. But he had no idea just how different— and it wasn’t just because of the language settings.

He had never played a game while someone watched him before. Especially not someone as cute as Silke, who kept saying things he could somehow understand as long as there was enough context.

His favorite part was seeing her reactions to different in-game moments. Whenever a character she loved appeared on the screen, she squealed like a maniac and jumped up and down on the couch. And when Feyrith and Jareth interacted with each other? Her excitement was tenfold.

If something she disliked happened, she would either pout or let out displeased sounds. She was also always prepared for sad scenes, stopping Satoru from clicking anything until she had a tissue box at the ready.

But today was different. Silke seemed more… fidgety. Less focused on the game.

Had he done something to make her act this way? Then again, just minutes ago, she had been laughing and having fun while his sister threw her dramatic tantrum.

Maybe she felt bad for laughing so much?

Satoru turned to face the blonde girl. “Everything okay?”

She nodded quickly and focused on the TV screen. It felt like she didn’t want to talk about whatever was on her mind, so the Japanese boy decided to drop the topic.

It’s not like he would understand what she was trying to say in German, and their shared “game language” was still limited. But sometimes, people just wanted to be heard, even if they weren’t understood.

And he could give her that much.

He wanted to give her that much… or even more.

Nevertheless, they kept playing until a key scene for his favorite character, Selene, started. That’s when Silke finally spoke up.

“Du… You like Selene, no?”

“Huh?” Caught off guard, Satoru didn’t immediately answer. But he quickly corrected his mistake. “Yeah, I like Selene.”

Sometimes, ‘like’ felt like a weak word. He wasn’t one of those guys who swore by “2D waifu 4 laifu,” but he couldn’t deny his impressive collection of Selene merch. And no—it was not a shrine, no matter how many times Miho insisted on calling it that.

As if his answer was a signal, Silke pulled out her phone—her Grimoire—and scrolled through her gallery. Once she found what she was looking for, she clicked on a picture and shoved the screen so close to his face that he had to lean back to see it properly.

He froze.

It was a picture of Silke.

But not just any picture.

She was cosplaying Selene.

He was not ready for that. His heart threatened to leap out of his chest from excitement.

Not only did she look amazing (not that she didn’t look amazing all the time), but the cosplay itself was incredibly well-made. The wig was styled perfectly, and the makeup gave her an anime-like appearance.

He wanted this photo.

He needed this photo.

Realizing he had been silent for too long, he started rambling. “You look good! Good cosplay! Wunderbar! Sehr… uh… sehr schön!”

Despite his stuttering, Silke seemed satisfied with his reaction. She gave him a small smile before, as if flipping a switch, returning to her usual self—as if she hadn’t just shown him the best thing in the world.

While many guys struggled to choose between their fictional crushes and real-life romance, Satoru felt blessed.

In a way, he was getting the best of both worlds.

He had a chance to have his waifu in real life—not as a hologram, doll, or pillow.

Wait… Marriage? Where did that thought come from?

He was just a seventeen-year-old guy. It was way too soon for that.

Get it out of there…