First of all—what exactly was anmitsu?
Written as “餡蜜,” it meant red bean paste (an) with syrup (mitsu). But looking at the proportions, it seemed the true star was the square-cut cubes of agar jelly (kanten). To this were added red peas, red and green gyuuhi (soft mochi-like sweets), and dried apricots. A scoop of red bean paste was placed on top, with syrup served separately. That was the usual form.
But the special anmitsu at Jinmeidou went even further: mandarin oranges, cherries, pineapple, and even shiratama dumplings were added. To top it all off, a little ice cream was included, giving it an extravagantly jewel-like appearance.
“Ohhh, marvelous indeed…”
“Yeah. Amazing.”
The sparkling dish, like a treasure box, looked delicious. Inari pressed her hands together in gratitude—for having encountered such a treat, and to the cook who had prepared it.
“Itadakimasu.”
“Itadakimasu.”
Shion imitated Inari, folding her hands before picking up the small jar of brown sugar syrup. She poured it over and pondered where to start, finally lifting a spoonful of the basic agar jelly. Transparent cubes glistened under the syrup, and when she placed them in her mouth, their springy texture danced on her tongue.
It was not hard—not at all. It was a fleeting firmness that yielded at the bite. Yet that unique texture and lack of flavor, when combined with the syrup, asserted themselves in the most delightful way.
Indeed, agar jelly had no taste of its own. And precisely because of that, it brought out the joy of combining with the many other elements in anmitsu. Perhaps it was not the star, but the best supporting partner. And so, the jelly slipped smoothly into Inari’s mouth as well.
“Ohhh, delicious… truly splendid.”
“Mm. By itself, kanten isn’t much… but in anmitsu, it’s amazing.”
“Just so. It may be precisely because it is kanten.”
Agar alone could not stand, yet anmitsu could not exist without it. That was its perfect partner role. Then came the gyuuhi. Those red and green pieces, seemingly just sweet mochi, were beloved even by those who disliked other elements of anmitsu. It seemed Inari shared the same feeling.
“This mochi-like thing looketh tasty as well.”
“Gyuuhi.”
“Ahh, gyuuhi, is it. Aye, aye…”
She tried the red gyuuhi. A gentle sweetness spread through her mouth. Clearly different from mochi, yet to someone who did not know the word gyuuhi, it could only be explained as “something like mochi.”
“These beans too are pleasing. They serve well when one desireth a firmer bite.”
“…You sound like you’re doing a food report.”
“Food… report?”
“If you asked me, I’d just say ‘tasty.’ That’s it.”
“And that in itself is not a bad thing, methinks.”
The slightly melting ice cream also went well with the jelly. Even on its own it was cold and delicious, making Inari smile broadly.
“So this is that ice cream I have oft heard of… Aye, aye. I have seen children eating it upon sticks…”
When her mouth grew chilled, warm tea washed it clean again, ready to welcome more anmitsu with a fresh feeling.
“Ahhh, how delicious…”
“Mm. Delicious.”
In the end, words failed beyond that. Inari’s tails swayed in rhythm, betraying no lie in her delight. Watching this, both the server and the cook peeking from the kitchen wore warm smiles.
Before long, the anmitsu was gone. With fresh tea poured, Inari sighed contentedly. A sweet that left even a refreshing aftertaste—its lightness surely owed much to the agar jelly. But such lofty thoughts did not suit the moment.
So she bought some manju as souvenirs, and the two stepped outside. Their smiles remained.
“…Truly, that was delicious.”
“Yeah. Honestly, I underestimated anmitsu.”
They felt satisfied enough to go home then and there. Yet still, side by side, they kept walking. As they did, Shion quietly studied Inari.
After all that had happened since they met, Shion had gone and gathered what public information was available about Inari. She found that Inari’s career as an awakener was shockingly short. Which meant she had risen to prominence almost immediately after debuting. And yet the records of cases she had officially handled—those confirmed headquarters assignments—were few, with many details withheld.
Shion’s own rescue had been one such case, so it was fair to assume Inari had resolved others of similar scale. No wonder her ranking had risen at such tremendous speed.
“Inari, you’re amazing.”
“Mm? What bringeth that on so suddenly? Praise me as thou wilt, I have naught to offer save these manju we just purchased…”
“No, I don’t mean that you have to give me something…”
“And if we speak of amazement, surely Shion surpasseth me.”
“Why?”
“Thou guardest the safety of the waters. I have some grasp of how vital that is to Japan today.”
Indeed, Shion’s rank of 4 owed much to that contribution. Constantly taking river and sea assignments, she was deeply valued by those in shipping and fishing. Offers for mascot contracts poured in from those industries. She knew that well enough—but still…
“Hearing that from you makes me really happy.”
“I see. Then mayhap I am succeeding as a good friend.”
“…More like an older sister. Or grandmother.”
“U-uhm…”
Classified into the “family” category—but Inari decided not to mind.
And so, another day with Shion passed warmly by.