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The first breakfast of the New Year was, as promised, Estea’s homemade ozōni.

Following the customs of her hometown, she set a large pot over the first fire lit in the New Year. Filling it with water, she had been simmering dried kelp and round rice cakes since early morning.

Despite the simplicity of the ingredients, it surprised me how rich and appetizing the aroma became. Even more striking was how the rice cakes—so hard at first—gradually softened and turned smooth as they simmered over time.

They had probably absorbed the water as they rehydrated, and if so, they must have soaked up the umami released from the kelp as well.

“Is something wrong? You look happy.”
“I was just really looking forward to how it would taste.”

When I answered, Estea smiled gently. Perhaps there was a special joy for her in serving a taste of her homeland.

“It’s simple, but it has a warmth that sinks into the body. I hope your mother will like it too.”

As she spoke, she poured over the rice cakes a broth she had carefully simmered since the night before—a chicken stock seasoned with soy sauce and other staples common to the Canado region.

For the finishing touch, she added thinly sliced peel of a citrus fruit called yuzu, then arranged the bowls neatly on the table.

“Please, enjoy.”
“I’ve heard about it, but this is my first time eating it. Mm, it smells wonderful.”

Father was the first to pick up his chopsticks, sipping the broth. When he nodded deeply in satisfaction, Estea let out a relieved smile and began to eat with graceful composure.

Cutting the rice cakes proved difficult, so I lifted one with my chopsticks and took a bite. Steam rose softly, carrying the fragrance of yuzu and chicken stock, and as I chewed, the umami of the kelp spread through my mouth. Without thinking, I looked at Estea.

“Well?”
“It’s really delicious. Canado cuisine has a depth you’d never expect from its appearance.”
“Truly… I feel like I could eat endless bowls of this.”

Mother chimed in, her face bright with delight. Estea’s cheeks flushed as her smile bloomed, and then she sprang to her feet with sudden enthusiasm, urging us all to have another serving.

“Please, have some more. I made plenty!”

The rice cakes—there must have been more than twenty in the large pot—were polished off impressively by Estea, Hom, and Father. Mother and I had always been light eaters, and I reached my limit at two, while Mother managed three at most.

They hadn’t looked like much at first, but rice cakes swollen with water settled heavily in the stomach the more one ate. Estea and Hom were said to eat heartily on a regular basis, but what surprised me most was that Father—who must have eaten at least five himself—looked completely unfazed.

Father always ate my cooking with obvious satisfaction, but perhaps this meal had still left him wanting. Hom ate quite a lot as well, so maybe I should start preparing larger portions from now on.

After breakfast and cleaning up, Alfe—who had just seen her father off as he returned to the research institute—came straight back to invite us to the New Year’s shrine visit, so we decided to head out.

“…Is it really all right for me to join you for the prayers?”
“Of course! The Black Dragon God looooves sweets, so if you bring offerings, anyone is more than welcome. And besides—”

Saying that, Alfe gestured brightly toward the approach to the Dragon Temple.

“If you have any worries, it’s a good idea to borrow God’s power.”
“…How did you…?”

At Alfe’s words, Estea reacted with visible surprise. As if trying not to look at her expression, Alfe watched the families walking cheerfully along the shrine path. After a brief pause, she slowly turned back toward us.

“So you do have something on your mind.”
“Ah…”

It seemed Estea realized then that she had let her feelings slip.

Alfe had only said, “If you have any worries.” If Estea had meant to hide it, she could have simply replied that she didn’t. The fact that she showed such an unguarded reaction suggested that, in her own way, she trusted us quite deeply.

“…You see, the Black Dragon God does care about faith—it’s not that it doesn’t matter at all—but she really loves sweets. So I think if you offer her some, she’ll lend you her strength.”
“Alfe’s right. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. Still, relying on a god once in a while isn’t such a bad thing, is it?”

I’d rather not get involved with goddesses, but when it came to the Black Dragon God, I felt oddly well-disposed toward her—probably because I’d grown up with her presence. If going for the New Year’s visit would help lift Estea’s spirits, then it was absolutely worth doing.

“…All right. Since I came all the way to Torch Town, I suppose I’ll try offering a prayer. Please teach me the proper etiquette.”

Accepting our encouragement, Estea stepped into the Dragon Temple plaza with a look of curious fascination.

***

The Dragon Temple plaza on New Year’s Day was livelier than ever, lined with countless stalls and crowded with worshippers who had come to pay their respects.

The Dragon Temple itself couldn’t possibly hold all the sweets, so several temporary offering areas had been set up, marked by signboards. Even those were piled high, as offerings poured in without pause from the bustling food stalls and long queues of visitors.

“The Black Dragon God must be thrilled!”

Alfe led us along, cheerfully taking in the sight of the Dragon Temple surrounded by sweets and lively stalls. Thanks to her bright demeanor, even Estea—who had admitted to having worries—seemed a little lighter than before.

“Oh! I want to eat that!”

As she said that, Alfe pointed innocently toward a cotton candy stall.

A glowing magic-stone lamp beneath a simple orange cloth canopy marked the stand, and the fluffy, cloud-like illustration painted there felt strangely familiar. What differed from my memory was how the canopy was encircled by other magic-stone lamps, each painted with colorful fruits.

“Cotton candy, huh. If there’s a line, it must be a pretty popular stall.”

It seemed to be a well-known sweet even in the Canado region, as Estea watched the stall with clear interest. There was indeed a line, but it moved steadily enough that even if we queued up, it wouldn’t take very long.

“Shall we line up for now?”
“Yeah!”

Alfe gave a little hop, almost like she was stepping to a rhythm, and headed toward the cotton candy stall.

“Uncle! One strawberry cotton candy, please!”

When Alfe called out, the man who appeared to be the owner lifted his face in surprise and stared at us.

“…H-Hey, am I dreaming here!? You’re that little miss from back then, aren’t you!?”
“Oh! Uncle!”
“Hey, it’s big brother, not uncle!”

As Alfe bantered with the stall owner, my own memories from that time came flooding back.

Back then, I’d thought that if sugar were flavored and colored in advance, it could become a vividly colored sweet that the Black Dragon God would love. When I’d explained the idea on the spot, the owner had eagerly written down the method I’d come up with.

“Thanks again, miss with the hat! I really owe you for that!”

I hadn’t seen the stall since then and had wondered what had become of it, but I couldn’t bring myself to mention it in front of Alfe. I never imagined it would turn into such a booming business.

“…You really went and made it.”
“Of course I did! I told you, didn’t I? An amazing idea like that would be a waste not to use!”

Despite it being winter, the owner slapped his thick, sun-browned arm as he spoke, showing it off like a badge of pride.

His thick fingers bore distinctive calluses, no doubt from making cotton candy nonstop. Just seeing them made it clear how many times he must have spun sugar by now.

“For strawberries and the other fruits too, I froze ’em first just like you said, then dried ’em right away and turned ’em into powder. Take a look!”

With that, the owner proudly showed us an array of vividly colored fruit powders.

“And on top of that, I add coloring like with my other sweets. But the smell—man, it’s the real fruit smell, just like that.”
“It really is! It smells so good!”

Drawn in by the scent, Alfe leaned closer, bouncing with delight.

“That’s a wonderful idea. When did you first—”

Estea cut herself off mid-sentence, and for a brief moment, a small silence fell between us.

“…Huh? Now that I think about it, the little miss has grown taller, but the miss with the hat hasn’t changed a bit.”

Ah—the owner didn’t know that my body no longer grew. Still, how much of this strange situation should I even try to explain…?

“C’mon, you gotta eat plenty if you wanna grow big!”

I turned it over in my mind, but the thought process ended almost immediately. Whether he simply didn’t care about details or not, the owner waved it off and cheerfully handed us freshly made cotton candy.

“Strawberry’s the top seller, but I put a lot of work into grape, so make sure you try that one too. Lemon’s popular as well. And don’t worry about paying—this one’s on the house. You girls are regulars now!”
“I really can’t accept that…”

I was grateful he hadn’t pressed me about not growing, but getting special treatment while other customers were lined up made me uncomfortable. And it wasn’t just in my head—the families watching the cotton candy being made and the customers waiting in line were starting to look at us with open curiosity.

“It’s fine! Took a bit of time to develop, sure, but thanks to you, this place is a hit—not just in this town, but all over! This right here is the main shop, but I’ve even got three branches now! In short—because of this hatty miss’ idea, I’m the proud owner of a booming business!”
“Amazing!”

As if to liven up the scene, the owner deliberately raised his voice while explaining, and Alfe responded with enthusiastic applause. The people around us, who had been trying to figure out who we were, seemed to understand at last and began applauding us as well.

“So yeah—that’s why you girls are my goddesses! And how could I possibly charge my goddesses, huh!?”

With that, the owner exchanged a look with the young man helping at the stall, and they treated us to one of every kind of cotton candy the shop sold.