The next day, we didn't take any quests. Karen suggested we go on an outing outside the town. I put on the new blue outfit we bought a few days ago—the one Karen chose for me. I liked it a lot.
When Karen saw me, he gave me a big thumbs-up.
"Lina, it really suits you."
"Thank you…"
Karen's compliments always made me happy. Because they came from the person I liked, it made my heart float.
We rode our bicycles far outside town—thanks to the bikes, the trip was quick.
There was a lake here. I could hear birds singing melodiously, as if performing a song. The grass and flowers swayed in the breeze; the surface of the lake was calm without a ripple. The surrounding trees blocked most of the sunlight, letting only soft rays filter through.
The scenery was so beautiful—so elegant—that I was entranced, and the words slipped from my lips.
"It's beautiful."
"Yeah… it really relaxes the heart."
Karen then laid a large cloth on the ground. We sat shoulder to shoulder on it, enjoying the cool breeze. The fragrance of flowers drifted toward us.
We sat there for a long time. At noon, I took out the rice bowls I made days ago after the orc hunt. Karen brought out the soy sauce he bought earlier and drizzled some over his food. I copied him.
Soy sauce went surprisingly well with eggs—the saltiness awakened my appetite. And in such a beautiful place, the food tasted even better. Karen even ate two full bowls.
After lunch, we left the lake area. A few monsters appeared on the road, and Karen eliminated them, collecting their magic cores afterward.
But Karen didn't let me touch the monsters at all. Only when he needed to wash blood from his hands did he ask me to produce water. I felt useless—until he said, while rinsing his hands:
"Your clothes look really cute on you. I don't want monster blood staining them. It's hard to wash off."
So that was why he didn't let me help—he was protecting my clothes. Karen always thought of me first. It made me so happy, though the sudden praise caught me off guard.
"…I get it…"
Even though he kept his head down while washing, I still caught a glimpse of his flushed face.
After that, we explored some other nearby places, cooked more food for storage, and tried out new seasonings.
Sugar was sweet—I loved it.
Soy sauce was fragrant—I loved that too.
Pepper was a little spicy but acceptable.
Chili powder… I didn't like at all—too spicy, too sharp. Never again.
That night, we ran into the long-unseen Ms. Lukie. She invited us to have dinner together.
After we ate, Karen brought up Mr. Gajeel's bicycle shop to her.
"Ms. Lukie, didn't you say you wanted a bicycle before? Do you still want one?"
"What!? Karen, you'll make one for me!?"
Ms. Lukie shot up from her seat, voice so loud the whole place turned to look. Karen quickly raised both hands to calm her down.
"…Calm down. We won't be making it, but a bicycle shop will open soon."
"When? Where? Who's making them?"
Karen lifted his index finger and made little circles in the air as he replied.
"Do you know the old smithy down south?"
"I know—Gajeez's younger brother's place."
She knew where Gajeel's shop was. Karen continued:
"He'll be opening the shop soon. But I'm not sure exactly when."
Ms. Lukie stood again, clenched fists full of excitement.
"I'll be the first customer! Thank you both!"
She left soon after. Karen and I bathed and went to sleep.
Days passed. We continued doing quests and noticed storage magic becoming more common. Eventually, January 11th arrived.
Today, Gajeel's bicycle shop officially opened. A crowd gathered, asking countless questions while Gajeel explained enthusiastically. We spotted Ms. Lukie among them too.
Customers were practically fighting to buy one. Eventually we entered the shop—most of the swords that used to be displayed were gone.
Karen spoke to Mr. Gajeel.
"Store owner, there are a lot of customers today. Are you managing?"
"Oh, it's you two. I'm fine, my brother came to help."
"Then I'd like to ask you to make us a large stainless-steel bicycle. I'll provide the materials."
Karen wanted a larger bike—after all, we would grow taller someday, and our current bikes wouldn't suit us forever. But I had never heard of stainless steel.
"I know steel—it's stronger than iron. But what's stainless steel?"
"Stainless steel doesn't rust. It's a combination of several metals."
Karen took out three metals—iron, carbon, and one I didn't recognize—all in different amounts.
"You melt iron, a little carbon, and a bit of chromium."
So the unknown metal was called chromium. Mr. Gajeel picked it up.
"This is chromium? Got it. I'll prioritize yours. I'm used to the process now. Come back the day after tomorrow."
"Alright."
Two days later, we returned. Mr. Gajeel was sweating heavily as he worked, but when the door opened, he noticed us.
"You're here. The bikes are ready. Let me get them."
From his storage spell he brought out two large bicycles—one black, one white. Karen tapped the frame, producing a faint sound different from iron. Then he pulled out his wallet.
"Store owner, how much?"
"No need. I'm making them for free."
Karen looked uneasy.
"Are you sure?"
"If not for you two, I'd still have no customers."
He explained his reason. Honestly, it was all thanks to Karen—I had only stood beside him.
"Alright… thank you. We're heading to a new place now."
"Your destination is the capital, right?"
"Yeah."
Mr. Gajeel then spoke with a rare hint of emotion.
"Maybe I'll open a shop in the capital someday. Who knows how many years later? When it happens, let's have a drink to celebrate—"
Before he could finish, Karen cut him off immediately.
"Ah—we don't drink."
"Even when you're adults?"
"Even then."
Back in our village, every year-end banquet involved drinking. That alcohol was brewed from rice—some adults got dead drunk; others did stupid things.
My father drank slowly to avoid getting drunk. Karen's father had a huge tolerance and drank boldly, but I had never once seen him drunk.
But Karen hated alcohol. He said alcohol numbs the senses, damages health, and clouds judgment. He swore he'd never drink his entire life.
"Haah… fine then. We'll share a meal instead."
Mr. Gajeel gave up on drinking. Who knew when that day would come? Karen agreed.
"Sure—if we meet again."
Next, we told Ms. Sylvie at the Adventurer's Guild that we were heading to the capital.
"Eh? You're leaving already?"
Ms. Sylvie sounded reluctant, as if she had known this moment would come.
Ms. Lukie overheard as she walked by and rushed toward us. Her face came extremely close to Karen's—Karen instantly covered his mouth with his hand.
"Is it true!? You two are leaving!?"
Ms. Lukie's face was way too close to Karen's. I didn't like it, so I reached out and put my hand between them, forcing some distance.
My hand startled Ms. Lukie back to her senses. She slowly leaned backward, embarrassed.
"…Sorry, I got too excited."
Once Karen confirmed her face was no longer near his, he lowered his hand, a trace of displeasure in his eyes.
"Our purpose here is complete. It's time to continue to the capital."
"I see. I might go to the capital someday too—maybe in a few years? If we meet again, let's have a dri—"
Again Karen cut her off sharply.
"We don't drink."
Rejected so fast, Ms. Lukie looked discouraged, but tried again.
"…Then… can we eat together instead?"
"…If we meet."
Karen sounded reluctant—like he didn't really want to. But Ms. Lukie was thrilled.
"Then it's a promise!"
She raised her pinky, intending to hook fingers with Karen. But Karen grabbed my hand instead and made me link fingers with her.
Afterward, we left the guild and headed toward the northern gate. Karen looked ahead as he spoke:
"Lina, thanks for putting your hand between me and Lukie earlier. And… about the pinky promise… I don't want to touch any girl except you."
Karen's head was turned away, but I knew—absolutely knew—that he liked me. And I felt the same. I didn't want to touch any boy except Karen.
"…Y-yeah… me… too…"
I wanted to say it as naturally as he did… but it was impossible. My heart wasn't that brave.
Suddenly, someone grabbed my right hand. I looked down—Karen was holding it.
"Lina, let's go."
He smiled at me. I tightened my grip on his hand and responded loudly:
"Yeah!"
Along the road, we saw several children riding bicycles, discussing where to go. It seemed like bicycles had begun to spread—three children, one bike on average.
We left Bakiko after that, pedaling toward the capital. We didn't know how far it was—but I knew that every day from now on would be filled with happiness.