“Hello.”

The boy who appeared at the same time today with a lunch bag cautiously greeted him. Philip closed his eyes and leaned back again.

What the woman said was not a complete lie. He’d been taking naps here a few times since then, but no one showed up here except that whitish idiot.

The boy sat on the edge of the bench and opened the paper bag.

“Would you like some?”

As usual today, the boy cut his food in half and offered him one. And again, he started explaining the menu without missing a beat.

“This is called rice cake, but it’s Korean food. It may seem a little strange at first, but as you eat it… .”

“I know. I’ve eaten it.”

Hearing that he already knows, the boy’s face turned red. Philip took the rice cake carefully wrapped in white paper.

“It was my brother’s birthday yesterday, so my mother made it. Because my mother is of Korean descent, she makes cakes and rice cakes together on birthdays. Tteok is like a traditional Korean cake.”

The boy spoke carefully about things he was not even curious about.

Philip was also of Korean descent, so it was food he remembered eating a few times when he went to Korea as a child. There was no proper food for something with the word “tradition” on it.

With an expressionless face, Philip began to eat the rice cake, and the boy quickly pulled out water from the bag and held it out.

“If you eat it all at once, your throat will get stuffy… .”

Philip took the water without hesitation. It was the first time they met, so strangely, he thought that it wouldn’t matter if he didn’t smile pretentiously in front of the boy.

After eating all the rice cakes and drinking water, the boy crouched and looked at Philip.

“It’s tasty.”

“… thanks.”

Although he did not make it, the boy was genuinely delighted with the word.

The boy took the book out of his bag and began to read. After eating, the boy didn’t say any more as if he had finished his job. Philip leaned back on the back of the bench and closed his eyes. He could only hear the occasional sound of the dry paper flipping over. It was a lazy afternoon.

Philip opened his eyes, resting his head on the backrest. The boy was reading a book intently.

The most plausible depiction of human emotions was a book. Philip’s hobby, realizing that fact early, also became reading. Unlike other people, there was no teacher as good as a book for him, who could not normally feel emotions. In order to plausibly emulate and imitate emotions, there must be an object of imitation.

When he saw a boy reading a book with his eyes lit up with an absorbed face, his curiosity about how that could be so much fun abruptly surged.

“Is it fun?”

“Huh? Ah yes.”

The boy closed the bookcase and nodded.

“What is it about?”

It was a fickle curiosity. A curiosity as small as a stone you kick away while walking.

“So, one day the main character… .”

The boy, who had always read the book without saying a word, began to explain with his eyes shining. It was unexpected.

“So, with the planetary friend he met there… .”

The boy, who had been talking up to that point, seemed to have regained his sanity at that time, blushing and closing his eyes.

“… sorry. It’s not fun, is it?”

“No.”

To be honest, it wasn’t fun at all. It was simply surprising. The fact that he can be so passionate about something.

“Do you think it would be fun?”

Philip responded with that characteristic soft smile. The boy hesitated, then carefully held out his book.

“Then do you want to borrow it?”

“Later.”

Philip got up from his seat. It was time to attend the afternoon class.

“Then, then… .”

After hesitating, the boy said goodbye.

Were they going to say goodbye like that?

Philip thought about it for a moment, but he was too lazy to answer, so he nodded his head and went down the hill.