243 A Toast, for This World... and You (1/2)
”What do you think?” Chiaki smiled. ”How’s the taste?”
”It’s delicious,” Seiji answered honestly.
”Is this your first time tasting alcohol?”
”I suppose so,” Seiji said after a pause.
He had drunk occasionally in his past world, but he had no memories of ever drinking alcohol before in this world.
”You suppose?” Chiaki asked, a brow raised. ”What does that mean?”
”I’m not sure if I've drunk alcohol before when I was a child. I feel like I might have, but I also might not have.”
”Oh...” Chiaki nodded and poured some more wine for them.
The beautiful girl poured the wine so that it ran down in a slow stream into the tall, clear wine glass. It was a rather beautiful scene to look upon.
What was that phrase again? Did it go something like ”The alcohol won’t make you drunk, but people will get drunk on people?”
It was something along those lines, and although he didn’t know if it suited the current situation, Seiji felt that it was an apt description of the current scene.
He wasn’t drunk yet, but drinking together with a beauty like Chiaki made him feel as if his heart was drunk... It sounded rather poetic to him, but he was also slightly embarrassed for thinking that it seemed poetic.
”Come,” Chiaki said enthusiastically ”cheers again!”
”No more cheers! Drink slowly.”
”Eh~ Don’t be so stingy.”
Seiji smiled as he raised his fist again. Chiaki could only submit to him.
”Fine,” she said, sounding defeated, ”if you insist, we’ll drink slower.”
”Wine is about slowly savoring the taste anyway; if you drink it so quickly, you won’t be able to savor it.”
”You're trying to sound like an expert, even though this is clearly your first time.”
‘This may be my first time in this world, but if you count my previous life, I’ve probably drunk even more alcohol than you,’ Seiji remarked in his head.
”Even if it’s my first time, that doesn’t mean I don’t understand it... besides, this isn’t exactly high-level knowledge. Just think about it: if you’re drinking something delicious, it’s only natural to take it slow and enjoy the experience.”
”Hmph...”
Chiaki shook her wineglass and glanced at the ice cubes within it.
Seiji took another sip before looking at the artwork on the wall.
”Were all these drawn by your father?” he asked.
”Yes... they must seem terrible to you.”
”No... I think they’re pretty good.”
”I see them every day, and I’m annoyed of them,” Chiaki remarked casually.
Seiji looked at her searchingly. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know how to say it.
”Were you just looking at the drawing of the woman in cherry blossoms?” Chiaki asked.
”Yeah.” Seiji nodded.
”Don’t you feel like drawing a woman whose face can't be seen is bad taste?”
”That’s my mom,” Chiaki said in a light tone. ”All of my father’s drawings of her are like this... either you can’t see her face clearly, or her face isn’t drawn at all.”
Seiji raised his brows in surprise. ”Why’s that?”
”My father said he can’t remember her face anymore.” Chiaki laughed. ”Pretty funny, isn’t it?”
It wasn’t funny at all—or at the very least, Seiji was unable to bring himself laugh at it.
”My father is a cold-hearted person. My mother notwithstanding, even if he said he couldn’t remember my face, I wouldn’t think it strange either, since he only sees me a few times a year.”
Chiaki had a wistful look in her eyes as she lifted her wineglass and gulped a mouthful of wine. ”I’ve seen him far more times on television than at home... sometimes I wonder just what meaning I have to him as a daughter?”
”Chiaki...”
”I know that many people consider me incredibly lucky, as I have a very famous father, a luxurious home, and an endless amount of spending money...”