She lowered her head and looked at the dark-red cone in her hand. Crushed chili flakes glinted faintly on the surface of the cream, like some kind of dangerous warning signal.
Beside her, Mo Wang had already launched an assault on the gray-black stinky tofu flavor, licking it with great relish, his face filled with utter enjoyment.
Changye Yue took a deep breath.
(...Just try one bite.)
She took a small sip.
Sweet. Then spicy.
Then came an extremely disordered, complicated impact, as if the tip of her tongue were screaming.
She froze.
Deep in her consciousness, March 7th popped up anxiously: How is it, how is it? What does it taste like?!
Changye Yue's expression was calm.
Changye Yue: ...Not bad.
March 7th: Really! Then I want to eat some too—
Changye Yue: You can't.
March 7th: Why not!
Changye Yue did not answer.
She took another tiny sip, her movement very light, like some sort of reserved exploration.
A rustling sound came from beside her.
She glanced sideways and saw Mo Wang lowering his head, fully focused on licking his cone. He looked just like a child who had not grown up at all, nothing like an Aeon.
(Even though a girl like me is sitting right next to him, he's just focused on eating ice cream? This guy...)
For some reason, as she watched Mo Wang licking his cone, Changye Yue's own face also started to turn red.
(No! Why am I feeling this too? Could it be... March 7th is influencing me?)
March 7th: Huh? Me?
Changye Yue withdrew her gaze.
"Speaking of which, don't you think... the two of us," she suddenly said, her voice so soft it was like she was talking to herself, "like this... counts as being on a date?"
The instant