First, we got our situation straight.
My companions want to return to the other world. But as things stand, getting back is close to impossible. Since we made it here, there might be some way to go back, but finding it—and pulling it off—will take time.
We can use magic. However, because the mana here is thin, what we can cast is limited, and we won't really know the practical effects until we try them.
From my side, the critical point was explaining that in this world there are no non‑human races like on the other side. We'll have to find a way to pass as ordinary humans.
Princess Pricha and Sanctina are human, so they're fine as is. As for appearances, Filia the elf and the Demon Lord handled it themselves.
"I can use transformation magic."
"Something like this, perhaps?"
Using a transformation spell they both knew, Filia reshaped her characteristically long elf ears into human ones, and the Demon Lord erased the crest on her face that marks her demon lineage.
To be honest, they never looked that inhuman to begin with—for whatever reason.
I'm told the strain of transformation magic depends on how much you alter, but for both of them it's nothing that will interfere with daily life.
Which makes the next problem the basic necessities: food, clothing, shelter.
Shelter: for the time being, they'll have to stay at my place. It's a detached house—not spacious, but good enough to live in.
Clothing, though… they definitely can't keep wearing what they have. The Demon Lord's in a dress, and my companions are in armor or battle robes.
Go outside like that and they'll be stared at as if it's ultra‑real cosplay.
When I said as much, they asked to see what kinds of clothes there are here, so I decided to show them by searching on the computer.
"How interesting. It's not even a magic tool. It runs on some power other than mana."
When I powered on the laptop, the Demon Lord perked up.
Princess Pricha is—well, calling her a musclehead would be rude. She prefers the straight‑and‑true path and leaves details to her retainers and maids. Sanctina is earnest, but not the type driven by intellectual curiosity; she's better at quietly doing what needs to be done.
"I've never seen anything like this."
Among my companions, it was Filia the elf who showed interest. She must like probing the unknown.
I quickly pulled up images of women's clothing and showed them; all four leaned in from the side, peering at the monitor with keen interest. I just hope none of it's too pricey…
"Hero, are you okay on money?"
Filia was the one who, realizing this is reality, worried about our future. Princess Pricha probably hasn't experienced life on a budget. Filia herself doesn't seem the money‑hungry sort, though.
"I've got enough for now. I live apart from my parents, but I inherited from my grandfather."
My parents have been posted overseas for nearly ten years. My grandparents raised me, but my grandfather died when I was in middle school, and my grandmother just passed away last month.
"If it's nothing too complicated, I can make clothes. The fabrics are different, but not that different. Wouldn't that be cheaper?"
That… might work. Then again, maybe the first step is to buy cheap outfits from a store. For everyday wear, even if something isn't to their tastes, one odd piece is fine.
Thinking that, I looked at my companions and the Demon Lord—but I wasn't sure about leaving them behind. Especially Princess Pricha and the Demon Lord. I figured I could take Filia shopping, but Sanctina wouldn't be able to stop those two if something happened.
No helping it. I'll go alone. Not that I know a thing about women's clothes…
"I'll go procure some clothing for now. Just… don't expect much. It'll be commoners' clothes. We can decide afterward whether Filia should use them as reference to make better ones."
Their current outfits have a master's craftsmanship in every detail; I can't match that. Best to set expectations.
I put out some drinks and snacks from the house, begged them not to go outside under any circumstances, and hurried off by bike to a budget clothing chain.
It had just opened. Being a chain store, no clerk came over, so I could take my time—but honestly, I had no idea what to buy for women.
And these aren't just any women. They're highborn ladies from another world.
Best to play it safe. Two outfits each: one pair of pants and one skirt. For tops, a shirt and something to throw over it. Socks and shoes, too. Shoes won't work—we'd better go with women's one‑size‑fits‑all sandals.
There were tons of colors, cuts, and patterns, but this is an emergency, so I picked what looked like good sellers.
"Uh… oh."
And then I realized I'd forgotten something crucial. Underwear—what do I do about panties and bras?
I've never seen the underwear from their world, and I have no idea what kinds they even have. I obviously don't know their measurements, either.
Should I go back, bring them here, and let them choose themselves? But taking them outside is risky.
They don't look Japanese. I need to figure out IDs and passports, too. Maybe we can handle it with magic—if anyone can think up a fix, it's probably the Demon Lord.
Still, until things settle down, they really shouldn't leave the house. Even basic common sense—how to walk along roads—is different here than there.
Which means they do need spare underwear. No way do they want me picking it. They wouldn't call it gross—it is an emergency—but still.
After thinking it through, I steeled myself.
I wondered how I looked to the staff. A high school boy who shows up the moment the store opens and starts browsing women's underwear, of all things.
It's retail—they probably won't care that much.
And it's self‑checkout anyway, so I won't stand out. It's also my first time in this store; no one knows my face.
Talking myself into it, I put eight pairs of panties—two per person—into the basket with the other clothes. Sizes were a guess: M or L. Bras were impossible. I gave up on those for now.
Whether it's underwear or outerwear, I have no clue what designs or materials they'd prefer. I don't know their tastes, so picking what they'd like is impossible. I just chose items placed front and center that looked like they sold well.
Seriously, I hardly ever buy clothes for myself—and now I'm buying full outfits, including underwear, for highborn women? That's beyond hard mode.
If I act too suspicious, someone might approach me. Don't overthink it—just calmly check out and leave.
The last thing I want is to be treated like a creep.
"Haah…"
As soon as I left the store, all the tension hit me at once.
Next, lunch. I live alone, so I don't have enough food on hand to serve guests.
I decided to stop by a nearby supermarket.
In truth, I don't think they'll be too picky about meals. Princess Pricha has gone to the front as a soldier, and there were times she got by on hard black bread and nothing but salty jerky. If anything, that's a blessing now.
Still, I'll grab a few things they should be able to eat. After I went to the other world, food was one of the hardest stresses to deal with.
If meals are okay, they'll feel secure—for the time being.
Side:Demon Lord
This new world is full of things that stir my curiosity.
The way houses are built, the furnishings, and devices that feel like magic tools yet give off no mana—there's a lot that's intriguing.
At the very least, this doesn't look like a poor household. But judging by the Hero himself, he wasn't born into the upper class.
Princess Pricha still won't take her eyes off me. If anything happens, she'll strike. Which is to say, if nothing happens, she won't move.
"What beautiful glass."
As I was considering what to do next, Saint Sanctina was looking at the glass tumblers. There were five on the table, identical in shape and clarity. The Hero poured that "barley tea" into them.
Looking closely, every window in the house is fitted with uniform panes of glass. Is glass of low value here?
Measured by the values of our original world, the Hero's carriage and his way of life don't quite align.
"Demon Lord, can you read these letters?"
The elf Filia was paging through a book she'd found in the room. The cover bore what looked like a magically reproduced drawing of a young woman; inside were pictures and writing.
The woman on the cover is baring quite a lot of skin. Is that normal here?
"Unfortunately, I can't read it."
Among the writings left by past Heroes, there was a script from the same family, I believe. But the samples were too few to decipher.
It truly is a civilization unlike our own. Princess Pricha and the others… might well be happier if they went back.