Do You Want to Save Her?

“You look so out of place~”

Soren stared blankly at the person who had gotten him into this situation in the first place.

“Wow, thanks, I couldn’t tell.”

“You’re welcome,” she chirped, and the way she said it made it sound like affection, which was annoying because it wasn’t, not really, not in the way people would assume.

Esper didn’t do soft emotions in public; she did performance, and sometimes, if you were lucky, a crack of something real underneath.

Soren leaned back slightly, gaze drifting across the room again.

“This is insane.”

Esper rested her chin on her hand, eyes gleaming.

“Mhm.”

“Do you normally eat in places like this?”

Esper’s smile stayed perfect.

“More than you would like.”

Soren’s mouth flattened.

“That sounds miserable.”

Esper’s eyes narrowed with delight.

“Now you’re getting it~”

The menu was thick, written in elegant script with descriptions that sounded more like poetry than food.

Even the prices were printed with polite confidence, as if the number itself was too refined to be questioned.

Esper took it in one hand, then glanced up at him.

“Try not to glare at the paper. It’s not the menu’s fault.”

“This is fucking insane...”

Esper giggled, then turned her gaze to the menu again.

“Just pick something. Don’t be weird.”

“Don’t be weird,” he echoed. “I’m not the one who dragged us into a place that wants me to sell my liver for some bread.”

“It’s not that bad,” Esper corrected, eyes still scanning.

“Maybe for you...”

Esper’s smile twitched, amused.

“You’re so dramatic.”

Soren lifted an eyebrow.

“Me? Are you sure about that?”

“Yes you,” she said with certainty, then looked up, eyes narrowing in mock appraisal. “See, this is why you and Alex get along. You both have this talent for being oddly intense about pointless things.”

Soren’s face stayed blank.

“Don’t compare me to that muscle-brained freak.”

“Mm… But it’s true?”

Soren wanted to argue, but he didn’t bother.

If he kept the conversation going, no matter how it went, it would become a losing battle, so, instead, he simply let out a sigh and leaned back in the plush seat beneath him.

A staff member approached again, appearing beside the table with the quiet precision of someone trained to never interrupt the wrong moment.

“May I recommend today’s lunch course,” they offered, tone smooth. “The chef has prepared a seasonal selection, and we have a limited supply.”

Esper didn’t even look at the menu anymore.

“I’ll take it.”

Soren blinked.

“You didn’t even ask what it is.”

Esper tilted her head, smiling sweetly.

“That’s what the staff are for.”

Soren’s gaze slid to the staff member, then back to Esper.

“I don’t trust anything described as ‘seasonal selection’ in a place like this.”

Esper’s smile widened.

“Soren, you eat lunch at the cafeteria and say that’s enough for the entire day. You’re not allowed to speak.”

Soren’s mouth tightened, but he couldn’t deny it.

The staff member’s expression didn’t change, but their eyes held a flicker of polite patience.

“And for you, sir.”

“...Fine, I’ll take the lunch course too.”

The staff member bowed again and vanished as quietly as they had arrived, leaving the table in that same muffled luxury, the kind that made silence feel expensive rather than awkward.

Soren set the menu down and exhaled through his nose.

“I’m not built for this.”

Esper rested her chin on her hand again, staring at him openly.

“I know right~”

Soren narrowed his eyes.

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it’s true,” she replied, cheerful and unbothered. “This is what I grew up with. This is what my father thinks is normal. Fancy rooms, fancy words, fancy people smiling while they try to pick apart your life.”

Her tone stayed light, but the meaning underneath it was sharp enough to cut.

Soren’s gaze held on her face.

“You hate it.”

Esper’s smile didn’t falter, but something behind it shifted.

“Hate is a strong word. I’d rather say it’s exhausting.”

“That’s basically hate.”

Esper hummed.

“Maybe.”

Soren leaned back slightly, trying to settle into his chair without looking like he wanted to crawl out of his skin.

“So this is part of your plan. Make me uncomfortable.”

Esper’s eyes gleamed.

“Not uncomfortable. Informed.”

Soren stared at her.

Esper stared back, shameless.

Then, because she couldn’t help herself, she added, “Also yeah, it’s funny to see you acting so uncomfortable.”

Soren sighed.

“I knew it.”

A brief pause followed, not awkward, just quiet, the way silence got when there wasn’t any need to fill it.

Outside, the world was still moving, but inside this place it felt distant, softened by padded walls and expensive manners.

Esper’s gaze drifted over him in a slow, pointed sweep, from his uniform collar down to his sleeves.

“You’re still in your uniform,” she said, voice lightly accusing.

Soren blinked.

“Yes. I came from the academy.”

“You came from the academy,” she repeated, as if he had confessed to a crime. “To a date.”

Soren’s eyes narrowed.

“You didn’t tell me it was a date until an hour ago.”

Esper waved a hand.

“Technicalities.”

“That’s not a technicality.”

“It is if I say it is,” she replied with the same cheerful dictatorship she applied to everything.

Soren opened his mouth, then closed it again, because arguing with Esper when she was enjoying herself was a guaranteed loss.

Esper’s smile widened, pleased with his restraint.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“No.”

Soren’s mouth flattened.

“Fine.”

Esper’s eyes sparkled.

“Good.”

The first course arrived, presented like art, small and carefully arranged, delicate slices of something that smelled rich, accompanied by a sauce so glossy it looked unreal.

Soren watched as the staff member placed each plate with a precision that made it clear they had done this a thousand times.

Esper didn’t hesitate.

She picked up her utensils and ate as if it was normal to be served food by someone who bowed afterwards.

Soren tried to mirror her and immediately felt irritated at how natural she looked, like she belonged so completely that the room couldn’t challenge her. It wasn’t arrogance. It was familiarity.

He tasted the food and, annoyingly, it was good.

Not just good, but careful, balanced, clean in a way that made him feel like a barbarian for ever enjoying greasy street snacks.

He hated that too, the way luxury could seduce you even when you resented it.

Esper watched his expression shift and smirked.

“Don’t tell me you like it.”

Soren chewed, swallowed, then answered honestly because lying was pointless.

“It’s good.”

Esper clasped her hands together for half a second, delighted.

“So he admits it.”

Soren gave her a look.

“Is it really that weird that I think good food is good?”

Esper leaned back slightly.

“Yep! Didn’t think it would suit your palate.”

Soren ignored that and took another bite, letting himself focus on the taste instead of the atmosphere.

The more he ate, the more he could admit this place wasn’t trying to impress him specifically.

It was simply built to be like this, because to the people who belonged here, this was the baseline.

That thought was worse than the price.

Soren glanced up at Esper.

“Does your family eat like this every day.”

Esper shrugged, posture still elegant even when she played casual.

“Not every day. Sometimes the food is even more annoying.”

Soren stared.

Esper smiled sweetly.

“There are rules. About what forks you use. About what you talk about. About how loud you’re allowed to laugh. About who speaks first. It’s a whole performance, and if you mess up, someone will remember forever.”

Soren’s gaze sharpened.

“That’s… ridiculous.”

Esper’s smile turned knowingly amused.

“I know right~”

He let out a quiet, humourless breath, and for a moment the frustration wasn’t about the restaurant, it was about imagining her as a child sitting through that, learning to smile on command, learning to never look tired, learning to always be pretty enough to be useful.

Soren didn’t let the pity climb up his throat.

He had learned how much she hated that, how quickly she would bite if he turned her into something tragic.

Instead, he kept it simple.

“No wonder you like the academy.”

Esper’s eyes flicked to him, and for a heartbeat the mask thinned.

Not falling off, just loosening at the edges.

“Maybe,” she said, voice lighter again, then immediately ruined the moment with a grin. “It’s also where I can bully you without worrying about what my father will do.”

Soren huffed.

“Wow, you’re so kind my dear fiancée.”

The courses continued, small but filling, each one presented with the kind of care that made it clear somebody’s entire job was to make food look like a status symbol.

Soren ate because it was there, because it tasted good, because hunger didn’t care about his opinions.

Esper seemed to relax as the meal went on, not because the environment was soothing, but because she was good at existing in it without thinking.

That was the difference.

This didn’t drain her in the same way it drained him.

The draining part came later, from letters, from her father, from people who smiled like knives.

By the time the last plate was cleared, Soren felt full in a way he wasn’t used to, satisfied but also faintly irritated at how easily he had been fed into compliance.

Esper leaned back, eyes half-lidded, looking pleased with herself.

“See? You survived.”

Soren gave her a flat look.

“Barely.”

Esper giggled.

“So dramatic.”

Soren reached for his pocket without thinking, fingers brushing his coin pouch, then paused, remembering where he was.

Esper’s eyes sharpened immediately.

“Oh?”

Soren sighed, resigned.

“I’ll pay my portion.”

Esper stared at him.

Soren stared back.

Then Esper burst into laughter, not polished, not delicate, an actual laugh that made a couple nearby glance over before quickly pretending they hadn’t.

“Cutie, your personal wealth can’t even compare to mine,” she said, voice dripping with amusement.

Soren’s mouth tightened.

“That’s rude.”

“It’s true,” she said sweetly, still amused. “Also, I invited you. I made the reservation. If I let you pay, it would be embarrassing.”

“It would embarrass you?” he repeated.

Esper nodded.

“Yes. Because it would imply I’m broke.”

Soren exhaled through his nose.

“You’re so annoying.”

Esper’s grin widened.

“You should know this by now~”

Soren didn’t bother arguing.

He let his hand fall away from his pocket and leaned back again, gaze flicking toward the window where sunlight spilt across the street outside.

After a moment, he asked the practical question, because that was always safer than getting dragged into her mood games.

“Alright. What’s next?”

Esper’s eyes gleamed.

Soren immediately regretted asking.

“We’re buying you clothes,” she announced, cheerful as if she had said they were going to buy sweets. “Because you dress like you’re either going to sleep or going to fight.”

Soren blinked.

“I haven’t had time to buy anything else.”

“Jeez, that’s depressing.”

Soren’s brows lifted.

“It’s not like I go anywhere. I can just get some new clothes when I need them.”

Esper leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes narrowing with delighted judgement.

“You came on a date in your academy uniform.”

“You told me it was a meeting.”

“And yet, a normal person would still think, ‘Hm, maybe I shouldn’t show up wearing the exact outfit I wear every day,’” she said, tone syrupy.

Soren’s mouth opened, then closed again because, annoyingly, she wasn’t wrong.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want more clothes, it was just a case of never having a good opportunity.

Esper’s grin widened further, and she tapped the table once, satisfied.

“You might be worse than Alex in some aspects.”

Soren stared at her.

Esper stared back, absolutely shameless.

“…That’s an insult, I’m nothing like that dense bastard,” he said.

Esper beamed.

“Good. You understood.”

Soren pushed his chair back slightly, preparing himself for whatever she considered ‘shopping’ to mean in a district like this.

“Fine. But if you try to put me in something ridiculous, I’m leaving.”

Esper stood smoothly, hooking her arm through his again like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Then don’t be ridiculous and you’ll be fine.”

Soren’s eyes narrowed.

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It will,” Esper promised, grin bright as she tugged him away from the table. “Come on, Cutie. Time to fix your wardrobe.”

————「❤︎」————