Autumn Festival and Baby Castella 9
“Besides, I was too young to be aware of it at the time. Looking back, I probably did have someone I liked.”
It was such a faint and fleeting feeling of love.
Yet, beyond the hazy memories, he feels like he can see a little girl smiling.
He feels like he made a promise to see her smile again.
Her existence seems to shape who he is today.
“Hmm…”
Chika let out a sound of mild disinterest after hearing Sōma’s story.
“Sorry I couldn’t give you the kind of story you were hoping for.”
“No, it’s not that. I was just thinking that you have already experienced your first love, Sōma-san.”
“What, you wanted a comrade who’s never been in love?”
He gave her a puzzled look, and she shook her head in denial.
“Sōma-san, I was just thinking it would have been nice if I had been your first love.”
“What…?”
His heart skipped a beat.
She wished she had been the one I fell in love with first…?
Why would she wish for such a thing?
Why would she say that?
Could it be that she—
Amidst the festival’s bustle, their gazes locked as his heartbeat quickened.
Then, the brown-haired girl showed a mischievously charming smile.
“Because if that were the case, Sōma-san would never forget about me. Isn’t a first love something special to everyone?”
…So that’s what she meant.
Understanding Chika’s true intention, he felt the tension leave his body.
He had panicked for nothing.
After all, she’s the one who claims not to understand romance. It’s unlikely she would harbor romantic feelings for him. It was clear upon calm reflection.
While secretly calming his heart, he responded to Chika, who was looking up at him with a smile.
“I just said my memory of my first love is hazy. Even if it were you, I might forget you.”
“Ah… right. That’s true. Maybe first love isn’t all that significant after all.”
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She furrowed her brow and pondered seriously, so he patted her on the shoulder.
“Well, I think I’ll remember you for the rest of my life, so don’t worry.”
“Really? Am I such an amazing presence for you?”
When Sōma confirmed it, Chika’s face lit up with excitement.
“There’s no one in my life as mean-spirited and sadistic as you. Even if I wanted to forget, I couldn’t.”
” ‘Mean-spirited’!? Wait a minute! Isn’t that going a bit too far!? Shouldn’t it be more like ‘mischievous’ or ‘playful’?”
“What are you talking about? Those tepid words couldn’t possibly cover it.”
“Don’t say it with such a serious face! That makes me sound like a genuine terrible sadist!”
“Anyone who looks at you can tell you’re a genuine terrible sadist.”
“Sōma-sannn!”
While watching Chika begin to fume with anger, he finished off the remaining yakisoba and tossed the empty pack into a nearby temporary trash can.
“Alright, now that we’re full, let’s have some fun. How about a competition at the ball scooping game?”
“Please wait a moment! I still have things I want to say—ah? A competition?”
Upon hearing the word ‘challenge,’ Chika’s complaints came to an abrupt halt.
“I’ve never competed with friends at a festival game stall before. I’ve always been either watched over by Miki-chan and the others or had them play in my place.”
“Then let’s give it a try. The loser has to treat the winner to grilled corn.”
“A penalty game too? That sounds wonderful! I accept your challenge! Let’s go, let’s go!”
With her mood improved, Chika pulled me by the arm towards the ball scooping stall.
The ball scooping challenge ended in a resounding victory for Sōma.
To be honest, it was an anticipated victory.
For some reason, he has always been good at ball scooping since he was young, and he has never lost a ball scooping challenge.
He gloated while showing off the extra-large super ball he won as a prize.
“Take that! Ah, this feels so good. Chika, seeing the defeated look on your face is the best! Now pay up and treat me! Offer up the grilled corn to me!!”
As he let out a hearty laugh, Chika stomped her feet in frustration.
“It’s so frustrating! Losing to Sōma-san makes me incredibly upset! This means war next year! I’ll train for a whole year, and I’ll definitely get my revenge at next year’s festival!”
“If you’re willing to bet something more expensive next year, I’ll accept your rematch.”
“Very well! Then next year, we’ll bet on wagyu beef steak skewers! I won’t lose!”
She declared war while pointing decisively at a stall where price tags of two or three thousand yen hung as if it were a matter of course.
“I’ll make sure to crush you completely then.”
“I’ll definitely make you buy me those steak skewers, Sōma-san!”
After tasting the humiliation of being made to buy grilled corn, Chika began to write in next year’s schedule on her smartphone’s calendar app.
It seems that attending next year’s festival with her was already a done deal for Sōma.
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