Side: Amahashi Kakeru

For dinner I decided to keep it simple — rice and miso soup as the centerpiece, an utterly ordinary modern-Japanese meal.

I'd talked it over with Princess Pricia, and she understood: if they were going to be living in this world for a good while, they'd need to get used to the local customs and food to some degree.

Of course, I wasn't going to force anything on them if it didn't suit their taste — but I was grateful they were at least willing to give it a try.

"Hero-sama, shall I help you?"

As the evening sun slanted in and I was getting dinner ready, Sanctina came into the kitchen.

"I've got it. I know you can't really relax, but go watch some TV or something. It might be boring, but it'll help you get a feel for this world."

"……All right."

Sure enough, she couldn't settle down in an unfamiliar place. That was the gist of it. I'd spent about three years over in that other world, but she was the type who'd thrown herself into carrying out the duty she'd been handed.

Honestly, I'd never really opened up and talked with her about anything personal.

For that matter, the four of us had never even acted as a group on our own. There were always guards around, or Princess Pricia's attendant ladies-in-waiting, or the clerics who looked after Sanctina — always a crowd.

It wasn't until that final battle, when the Demon Lord conjured up the sealed space and shut everyone else out, that the four of us were finally alone for the first time.

So we'd hardly ever talked about personal things, and it was nothing like those stories where a small band sets out to defeat the Demon Lord, helping each other along the way.

I'd never actually held a job myself, but I figured it was close to office coworker relationships. Comrades who were together because it was work. That kind of thing.

So, well — a lot had happened over there too, but they'd looked after me plenty, and they'd been considerate of me when I was the one stuck in an unfamiliar place. Now it was my turn, I figured.

They needed an environment where they could settle in and live in peace. While I was thinking that, Filia — who'd gone to check on the Demon Lord, trading places with Sanctina — came into the kitchen.

"Filia, how's the Demon Lord?"

"It's incredible. To think she has that much skill……"

I'd never seen Filia look even a little shaken before. She was basically the type nothing fazed.

Or rather — what I'd asked about was the Demon Lord's condition. The fact that she hadn't picked up on that meant maybe she was a little tired too.

"Does it look like they can get back to their own world?"

"……I think that depends on the Demon Lord."

"There's definitely a way back. I managed it, after all. Until then, you can take it easy for a while."

The hope that you could go home someday was a big thing. I knew that firsthand.

Now then — the food was ready, so maybe I'd call the Demon Lord and we'd eat. Meals, at least, were better taken together. We didn't need to be friends, exactly, but I wanted us to at least be able to understand one another.

Side: Filia

The human race and the demon race had gone to war again. The news left us elves thoroughly fed up.

The human race had short lifespans and its population grew quickly, so its generations turned over quickly; the experiences and lessons of the past went to waste, and it repeated the same mistakes over and over.

The demon race, on the other hand, was long-lived, so it clung forever to old grudges and grievances — which meant it rose to the human race's foolish provocations.

From where we stood, both of them were nothing but a headache.

"Oh my, dinner's an unusual dish tonight."

The one who'd accepted the situation best was surely her — the Demon Lord. After all, she'd been trying to cast off the role of Demon Lord herself. I had my misgivings, but there were things I understood, too.

She'd been crowned Demon Lord against her will, and she'd hated conflict all along.

"This is the fruit of the rice plant."

There was something familiar about the meal set before us. The Hero probably didn't know, but the other world had a plant of the same sort.

The way it was eaten seemed different, though……

It was simmered without any seasoning. The taste was… not bad. Like barley boiled in a little water. Was this something eaten in place of bread, then?

The fruit of the rice plant had no seasoning on its own, but eaten together with the other dishes, its sweetness went well with the food.

A people's diet told you the history and the land and climate of their country. There was something rather fascinating about it.

"How is it? If it doesn't suit you, there's bread too."

The Hero, though, was watching us with a worried look.

He worried over surprisingly small things. Over there he'd always been so reserved, he'd never shown this side. Did that mean he'd just been holding it all in?

"It's quite all right. Though these 'chopsticks' will take some getting used to."

"Yes. It's delicious. A flavor I've never had before, but still."

Pricia and Sanctina, in no position to be picky given the circumstances, were minding the Hero's worried look as well.

The Demon Lord, meanwhile, was wielding the chopsticks — which she ought to have been seeing for the first time — with the elegance of someone dining at court. There was something frightening about the sight of it.

Just how far beyond our expectations would she go?

"'Gohan' and 'miso soup.' A first for me as well. This is the dish a Hero several generations back said he wanted to eat, just before his final battle with the Demon Lord of his day."

"Why would the demon race know a thing like that?!"

But the moment Pricia reacted to the Demon Lord's offhand remark, the mood soured again.

Pricia was a princess with conviction but little aptitude for political maneuvering. That, apparently, was one of the things her royal father favored about her. Even between parent and child there was no trust — they measured each other by rank and politics. That was the ugly side of human-race royalty.

"Who knows? I wonder why. It's not in the human race's records? Strange, isn't it. You'd think information about another world would be something you'd want desperately. Or perhaps……"

At the Demon Lord's single line, brushing off Pricia's glare, I was startled too. From the way the Demon Lord spoke, the upper echelons everywhere — the demon race, the human race, the Church — surely all knew the secrets concerning the Hero, and were hiding them.

Which meant the elf Elders knew as well. I came to understand that I, too, had been kept from crucial information.

I wasn't told I'd be treated as disposable, you know. Elder.

"Um… we have this meal here. Couldn't we be grateful and enjoy it?"

While I was lost in thought, of all people it was Sanctina who spoke up……

"Ufufu, I'm sorry, Saint-san. You're quite right. That was wrong of me."

"Sanctina, I'm sorry."

To think Sanctina had just smoothed over the quarrel between the Demon Lord and Pricia. I hadn't thought she was the kind of girl with that much inner strength. And yet — was she, perhaps, the calmest of us all in this situation?

Maybe the name and the gift of the Saint were the real thing after all.

"As an apology, I'll tell you about what I mentioned earlier. The Demon Lord has all sorts of hereditary secret knowledge, handed down with each succession. Information on the Heroes of the past is one part of it. I've heard the demon race was the most skilled of all at gathering information and keeping records."

"……I see. I'm sorry for raising my voice."

Faced with the Hero and Sanctina, who were so concerned for us, Pricia and the Demon Lord each admitted their fault and took a step back. Perhaps we'd finally managed to build a new relationship.

This way, we just might be able to live here. The thing I dreaded most was suspicion turning into conflict.