Page 58 of Fumiko and the Finicky Nestmate
“Something is influencing people. And I’m affected. Colt probably didn’t notice because he’s always so chill. But there’s a difference between relaxed and relaxing your guard.”
Taking a bite of the first sandwich, Akira nodded. But there wasn’t much he could contribute. He was susceptible to everything except dragon sway. And that wasn’t the problem here.
“What’s nice?” Sinder demanded.
“Hmm?” Akira looked down at his wedge of burger. “This pastrami is nice.”
Sinder waved a hand. “Think about why you said what you did. Because it’s what everyone else is saying, too. What makes you think today’s nice? Or that this place is nice? Or that you feel nice?”
That was easy. “Home is nice.”
“You mean Stately House?”
“No. Japan. I like things from Japan.”
“Yeah?” Sinder leaned forward. “Anything else?”
It took longer for the thought to form, but Akira finally said, “Red flowers are nice.”
“Where did you see them? In the courtyard? In the gallery?”
The answer was on the tip of his tongue. “I’m not sure.”
Sinder peered around, sucking moodily at his drink. “After lunch, we’ll retrace your steps, see if we can’t figure out what brought red flowers to mind. It could be important.”
“Sure. We can do that.”
But after lunch, Akira washed up, thanked Sinder, and left.
While strolling toward the corner where he’d board the trolly, Akira sent a series of texts. He showed Quen a picture of his father’s namesake sandwich. A selfie with Sinder for Tenma, who’d apparently become friends with the dragon over the summer. He also sent it to Jacques, mostly to see if his message would show up as read.
It did. So Akira sent a bunch more snapshots. Jacques texted back as soon as there was a lull.
Since when did this become a culinary tour?
Food is culture
Sandwiches, though? Is that the best you can do?
The shop is in the museum
where Juuyu is working
Masterpiece Sandwiches
How droll
Akira was feeling better the longer the exchange went on.
Is Sis there?
Saints forbid
Twould be awkward
This is the grooming hour
Jacques sent through a selfie that might have been indecent, if not for the abundance of foam. Bubble baths weren’t very Japanese, but neither was Uncle Jackie. Deece and Gilen smiled shyly at the camera. And a beat later, Akira realized that none of them were holding the phone.
