In the cramped room, Bianka and Aizahár stared at each other for two seconds. Suddenly, and no one knew who started it, the two little girls burst out laughing.
"Pfft..."
"Hahaha..."
"Actually... I'm not some rich young lady," Bianka said, laughing a little before scratching her head and explaining seriously to Aizahár.
But to her surprise, Aizahár just listened for a moment and then laughed even louder, bending over as if she couldn't control herself.
Bianka, on the other hand, became a little anxious. "I'm telling the truth! I'm not some young lady!"
Aizahár straightened up in a second, standing ramrod straight in front of Bianka. "Yes! A young lady is not the young lady that the young lady thinks she is, but the young lady that the young lady hopes is not the young lady!"
Bianka: "?"
"Wait, you're making me dizzy..." Bianka shook her head vigorously. "The young lady's... no, I'm really..."
"Aiya... I know," Aizahár seemed to have had enough of laughing. She let out a long, comfortable sigh and then looked at Bianka. "Whether you're a young lady or not... I actually quite like you."
"Eh?" Bianka's mouth hung open, her mind still a little fuzzy... or rather, Aizahár's words had completely muddled her brain!
"Like is..." Bianka asked blankly. In Aizahár's eyes, this "young lady" who looked about two years older than her was actually like this?
It really broke Aizahár's preconceived notions.
But her preconceived notions... a young lady should be arrogant, stubborn, and delicate...
No, no, not a single one of these was right for the blonde-haired, blue-eyed person in front of her! It must be her own preconceived notions that were wrong. Her mother was right, those fairy tales were all lies!
"Like means I think you're cool!" Aizahár said with a laugh, patting Bianka on the back. This was something she would never have dared to do before. After all, patting an arrogant young lady like this would probably get her beaten up by some black-suited bodyguards who would appear out of nowhere.
But she couldn't go too far. A fallen young lady was still a young lady, and she was still different from her...
The light in Aizahár's eyes dimmed for a moment, but this insignificant moment was precisely captured by Bianka.
But before she could ask anything, Aizahár had already raised her hand and moved on to the next action.
"Alright... since it's already lunchtime, then let me give the young lady a proper welcome!" As she spoke, Aizahár rolled up her sleeves with great enthusiasm and strode menacingly to the kitchen counter, which was as tall as her.
Bianka watched in shock as Aizahár, who was half a head shorter than her current body, grunted and climbed onto a small stool, grabbed a black, mushy object, and was about to cut it with a long, thin kitchen knife.
She finally reacted and reached out to stop Aizahár.
"Wait! Are you cooking?!" Bianka stared at Aizahár's hand, which was holding the kitchen knife high above her head. She had a feeling that Aizahár would at any moment shout "Hot blood, bonds, and all that!" and start a bizarre cooking demonstration.
Bianka didn't mind that. What she minded was the bizarre black paste in Aizahár's hand!
"What is this?" Bianka asked, taking advantage of Aizahár's pause to point at the black paste, which looked like it had already been cut in half.
Aizahár, on the other hand, had a look of "I knew it" and, with a mischievous grin, picked up the black paste and deliberately held it in front of Bianka.
"This is the specialty of the City of Sighs—nutrient paste~"
Bianka's eyes trembled slightly. Aizahár caught this and, with even more mischievousness, pushed her luck.
"I heard it's made from rotten food, dead rats that only grow in gutters and sewers, and those inexhaustible cockroaches~"
She expected Bianka's face to show panic, resistance, nausea, and even tears, but a simple question from Bianka made Aizahár the one who froze.
"Is it as bitter as nutrient solution?" Bianka asked very seriously, really seriously.
Nutrient solution? What was that?
Could it be that those rich people also had to eat this kind of thing, just to stay alive?
Was this thing bitter? No, Aizahár licked her dry lips and recalled the taste of the nutrient paste.
It was salty, and apart from that, it was indeed a little bitter...
It was normal for a young lady to not be able to take any bitterness.
So Aizahár nodded. "Yes, it should be about the same."
"You've been eating this all this time?!" Bianka's voice suddenly rose.
Aizahár nodded again.
Bianka gasped, her eyes filled with admiration for Aizahár.
This look made Aizahár feel a little smug.
How about that, now you should be disgusted, right?
"Can I try some?"
"Eh, eh, eh?!!" Aizahár's little nose, which had been turned up, immediately went down, replaced by wide eyes.
No... huh?
This time, it was Aizahár who pulled back the hand holding the nutrient paste. She looked at Bianka with suspicion, trying to find a trace of a joke on her delicate little face.
But there was none. Bianka looked very serious.
Aizahár was silent. She looked at Bianka for two seconds, hesitating, before carefully cutting a small piece of nutrient paste with the knife and offering it to Bianka on the blade.
Bianka solemnly picked up the thin slice of nutrient paste with her fingers, wrinkled her nose slightly, and then put it in her mouth.
She'll probably just taste a little and then throw the rest away... Aizahár thought, and then saw Bianka stuff the whole piece into her mouth and even lick the finger that had held the paste.
She's really eating it raw?! And that much?!
It's over! Is this young lady really an idiot?!
A visible shiver started from the top of Bianka's head and ran down to her feet, and then there was a moment of calm.
Aizahár had already hastily put down the nutrient paste and the kitchen knife, and in a flustered and pained state, brought over a small half-cup of water.
It was probably just a mouthful.
After the shiver, Bianka frowned and closed her eyes, looking thoughtful.
"Um..." Aizahá held the cup of water and looked at Bianka cautiously. "Are you alright?"
Bianka opened her eyes and gave Aizahár a thumbs-up.
"It tastes pretty good!"
Aizahár: "?"