...
"Hic... hic..."
Lucian looked at her like this and helplessly sighed.
"You..." He watched Mejiro McQueen's dazed eyes and her body trembling with each hiccup. The words reached his lips but were swallowed back, ultimately turning into a soft chuckle.
This time Mejiro McQueen had not only ordered milk but also a slice of cake, insisting that the cake would neutralize the alcohol and prevent her from getting drunk.
But only a small corner of the cake on the table had been dug out. The creamy surface remained perfectly intact, and the juicy fruit slices glistened temptingly under the lights.
"Torena-san!" Mejiro McQueen suddenly raised her voice, her tone rising slightly at the end, drawing curious glances from the neighboring tables.
Lucian immediately felt his scalp go numb. He quickly leaned forward. "I'm here, I'm here. Keep your voice down."
This startled reaction again...
His gaze swept over the surrounding curious stares before helplessly returning to Mejiro McQueen. "What did McQueen want to say?"
"Oho..." Mejiro McQueen tilted her head, as if seriously thinking. "I forgot. Let me think."
Lucian: "..."
"Remembered!" Mejiro McQueen pointed at the more than half slice of cake still on the table and said discontentedly, "This dessert isn't as delicious as Torena-san desu."
Not as delicious as the Trainer? Or not as delicious as the cake the Trainer makes?
Lucian didn't dwell on it too much. Instead, he covered Mejiro McQueen's mouth, his palm unintentionally brushing against her soft, warm lips. "Keep your voice down, okay? Did you hear me?"
Mejiro McQueen blinked and obediently nodded.
Only then did Lucian let go. He coaxed her like a child. "You're the young lady of the Mejiro family. Can you please mind your image a little?"
"No." The current Mejiro McQueen was quite rebellious. "Torena-san, I don't want to stay here anymore. It's so stuffy."
"Alright. I'll go settle the bill, then we'll leave."
...
Mejiro McQueen's state was truly hard to figure out.
If you said she wasn't drunk, her behavior was completely different from usual. If you said she was drunk, she walked steadily without needing Lucian's support.
"Fasten your seatbelt."
"Oho."
After buckling the seatbelt, Mejiro McQueen's restless little hands opened the small storage compartment in front of the passenger seat.
Inside was a row of horse girl plushies: Silence Suzuka, Seiun Sky, Special Week, Silence Suzuka, Silence Suzuka...
"One, two, three..." Mejiro McQueen counted up to the fourth Silence Suzuka before suddenly stopping. She wrinkled her nose and let out a dissatisfied hum. "Torena, why isn't there a plushie of me?!"
Mejiro McQueen raised her finger and poked each plush head in the row one by one.
Then she suddenly turned around, knees pressing against the seat. "Clearly... I'm already a somewhat famous horse girl now."
Her breath, carrying the faint fragrance of sake, brushed against Lucian's ear. Lucian averted his gaze. "Then next time I'll go to the claw machine and fish out a McQueen one."
These plushies had actually all been stuffed in by those three—Silence Suzuka the most.
"Okay~" Only then did Mejiro McQueen heavily lean back into the seat, murmuring, "So hot."
Her fingertips unconsciously hooked the collar of her kimono and gently tugged.
The wide kimono was already loose. A slight slip revealed glimpses of flushed skin beneath.
"So hot?" Lucian frowned. He pressed the back of his cool hand against Mejiro McQueen's forehead to check her temperature. "Not very hot. She shouldn't be running a fever that easily..."
He was about to pull his hand back, but his wrist was caught by Mejiro McQueen.
She guided that hand slowly downward, letting the cool palm press against her own burning cheek. Then she tilted her head and rubbed against it. "You haven't touched here yet."
"The plushies too, this too... Clearly Torena-san loves pinching cheeks so much, but you've never pinched mine..."
Her face, warm like a heater, heated Lucian's palm.
Lucian instinctively wanted to withdraw his hand, but then he heard Mejiro McQueen speak softly. "I'm sorry... Torena-san."
"Why are you suddenly apologizing?"
"I saw the photo of Torena-san apologizing... It was clearly my mistake, yet I made Torena-san apologize in front of so many people and suffer so much abuse."
Tears slowly welled up in Mejiro McQueen's eyes.
The teardrops slid down her cheeks and dissolved at the point where palm met skin.
Lucian suddenly understood. He had guessed so many things, but it turned out she was blaming herself because of this.
"So, this is originally the Trainer's responsibility." He gently kneaded Mejiro McQueen's pretty face, his thumb lightly brushing over her tear-wet eyes, stroking across her damp lashes.
"You don't need to feel guilty or blame yourself. You said it yourself—it was just a one-time mistake, right?"
"Mhm, but..."
"No buts." Lucian interrupted. "I didn't blame McQueen because of this. I didn't even take it to heart."
"Really, Torena-san?"
"Really... Instead of thinking about these things, McQueen should think about how to explain to everyone tomorrow if your eyes get swollen from crying."
Hearing this, Mejiro McQueen sniffled and rubbed her eyes roughly with the back of her hand—but it backfired, making the area around her eyes even redder.
Lucian chuckled softly a few times. "Like reading a book—put a bookmark and turn the page~ I'll take you home."
"Wait..."
"Hm? Still feeling uncomfortable inside?"
"No..." Taking advantage of her tipsy state, tonight's Mejiro McQueen dared to express anything. She lifted her head. Her pupils looked even more watery under the light. "Torena-san... don't you want to rub my cheeks some more?"
Lucian blinked. "Is that okay?"
"Mhm desu, only limited to..."
Before Mejiro McQueen could finish, Lucian brought both hands up and thoroughly kneaded her cheeks.
"Mmm... Torena-san is being too rough..." The muffled words leaked from between Mejiro McQueen's squeezed, deformed lips.
Yet her hands only loosely encircled Lucian's wrists—as if wanting to stop out of embarrassment, but unwilling to resist because it felt good.
"How about this?" Lucian eased the pressure, drawing circles on her cheeks. He had indeed gotten a bit carried away earlier.
He gradually understood why Mejiro McQueen had insisted on going to that small izakaya, why she refused to listen and drank the milk anyway—and only one glass.
For a tsundere young lady, some words could only be said in this state.
If she had drunk two bottles, she would have been completely muddled and unable to speak clearly.
Lucian bet that Mejiro McQueen was slightly more sober right now, but tomorrow she would definitely pretend she remembered nothing.
"This feels much better..."
Imagining forcing this proud heiress to admit everything, Lucian rubbed for quite a while longer before finally patting his hands in satisfaction. "Alright, is McQueen satisfied now?"
He wondered if he should ask the izakaya for their secret recipe—so he could switch Mejiro McQueen between modes in the future.
Hiding grievances from races? Just make her drink!
"Satisfied..." Mejiro McQueen felt something was off, but her thoughts were now sticky syrup, leaving no room for much consideration.
"Then can we go home now?" Lucian lightly tapped the steering wheel.
"Wait... there's one more thing."
"Alright, go ahead."
"Torena-san, how do I look in the clothes I'm wearing today? Is it suitable?"
"It's hard to tell from inside the car. If McQueen could walk to the front of the car and maybe do a little dance..."
...