Omelette Rice (1)

I was lucky to have brought a starter made by my mother out of wheat flour and water in equal parts, fermented in a glass jar. Per her instructions, I stored it in a cooling container and 'fed' it with more flour and water once a week to keep it 'alive'.

At first, I wasn't sure when and where to use it, since baking bread for the whole camp sounded tough even with a legion of cooks, but I was glad to have it now. Perhaps I should give it a name like my mother did—I'll have to think about it.

Considering I started at the earliest possible hour, I was all alone in the kitchen tent which left me to my thoughts. Making the bread was easy—mix water, oil, and the bread starter before adding the flour and a little bit of salt, but with the amount of kneading and waiting I had to do for the bread, my mind couldn't help but wander to my mother and father.

My parents here weren't my parents back on Earth, and what a relief that was. On Earth, we never had much of a relationship that I considered a nanny my own mother, but here in Literra, I was showered with so much affection I didn't know what to do with it. It was awkward, trying to adjust from neglectful parents to more attentive and loving ones, but in the end, I welcomed what they were willing and happy to give me, and I couldn't even imagine having different parents now.

With that done, I proceeded to use last night's leftovers for today's breakfast—chopping and sautéing the leftover karoots, some celeri, onyuns, garleek, and thym in butter. To let it cook for a few more minutes, I checked in on my bread and took the lids off the baking pots to let it brown and form crusts.

I can hear my stomach growling.

Shaking my head, I quickly put it in the oven to finish cooking with the bread, refusing to give in to temptation.

I have to wait for it to finish, so I could eat it with everyone.

As I was starting to clean up my workspace, the Saint entered the tent, catching me off-guard as we stared at each other. Despite her insistence on leaving early, she only wore a casual tunic for now, a symbol of a golden star embroidered on the left side of her chest—the same symbol imprinted on my sternum.

The Saint looked just as surprised to see me. "Good morn, Junpei," she greeted, then turned to the oven where fragrant and savory smells wafted from. "Were you . . . ?"

"Good morning." I waved for her to come in, and when she did, I nodded and rinsed off the bowls I used. "I was making breakfast for us, if you want me to take it to the tent."

A satisfied smile appeared on the Saint's face, eyes sparkling, and I sighed through my nose—I'm never going to hear the end of it, huh? "Thank you for another delicious meal, Junpei. You're always working so hard, but I'm craving for something else today."

"Something else?" I echoed as she went around the kitchen, picking up the ingredients she wanted to use, only coming up to me to borrow a flat pan. I continued to watch her prepare her meal, before I took out the fresh bread and pie from the oven, looking and smelling savory and amazing. I set them aside to cool. "You don't want to try what I made?"

Laughing, she took a spot on the stove and placed the pan there, before prepping her ingredients. "It's not like that. It's been a while since I ate this dish, so I was craving for it."

"Why didn't you tell me to cook it yesterday then?" After I cleaned my mess, I approached her and took note of what she's doing. Onyuns and its leaves, korn, pease, karoots, day-old rice, eggs, milk. I didn't know this dish existed in Literra too. "May I help?"

The Saint turned to me, tilting her head. "You know what I want to make?"

I took some of the eggs and cracked them into a bowl, pouring a bit of milk and salt into it and beating them together. "The ingredients gave it away, Saint. You're making an omelette over rice, aren't you?"

A huff, and the Saint turned away from me. The tips of her ears looked pink. "What if I'm not? And didn't I tell you to address me by my name?"

"Saint."

"What?"

"You already respond well to it."

"You . . . !" The Saint turned to me in disbelief, before sighing softly and shaking her head. "Never mind. Yes, I'm making what you said. I didn't tell you to do it yesterday because I wanted to see what you would do with an ingredient like venesun, as a test. Forgive me."

I shrugged, moving closer to help her dice what she needed, and she stiffened. When I only reached out for a karoot, she relaxed, before carefully handing me half of the ingredients she had been peeling. I could tell she was trying to be sneaky about it, but I didn't comment.

This reminded me of when I helped around the family inn as my mother's assistant, where I learned my skills and knowledge. If I remembered correctly, my father was jealous about my mother teaching me her methods, so he also took me to his shop to teach me how to butcher meat. That was years ago, but it's one of the best memories I have with them.

I just took care of the food the Saint gave me. "I'm not mad about it. I was wondering what to do with all the meat anyway, and you looked like you enjoyed eating it last night."

At the mention of dinner, she smiled and nodded, peeling the last of the onyuns before handing it over to me, and I diced it up for her. "It was delicious. I've never seen Adeline and Rita that happy before."

When the ingredients for the fried rice were chopped and portioned, we moved to the stove, and I gave her a questioning look. "How do you usually make this dish?"

Pink tinted her cheeks and she glanced away again. "I make it simply."

"So you don't know how to cook it."

"What makes you think that? I didn't say that!"

I activated the stove. "Were you trying to experiment?"

The Saint didn't answer.

I tried again. "Should I give it a go?"

It took her a while to answer again, and at that point I had already cracked more eggs and mixed the yolks with the rice. When she finally did, I felt my sleeve sag at her tug, so I turned to her, only to see this vulnerable look on her face—I stared at her as she pursed her lips.

She met my eyes then to plead, her gaze like liquid silver, shooting through me like bullets. "Then, can you make me your version of omelette and rice?"

Screw the demons, this woman was more dangerous than them.