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With a beaming smile on her face, yet her eyes brimming with tears, Calcedonia threw herself into Tatsumi’s arms once more.

Instinctively catching the woman who introduced herself as Chiiko, Tatsumi fell back onto the bed.

Once again, a very soft body had flown into his arms. Tatsumi could only fumble, unsure of how to handle it.

Not to brag, but Tatsumi had never hugged a woman before, nor had he ever been hugged by one.

Of course, he had likely been held by his mother or other family members when he was a baby, but since he had no memory of it, it didn’t count.

Incidentally, at that moment, he was utterly at a loss as to where to place his hands—on her shoulders? Or her waist?—and they fluttered around in the air in an eerie, restless dance.

Completely oblivious to Tatsumi’s inner turmoil, Calcedonia happily rubbed her head against his chest.

As she did so, the two softest parts of her body pressed against Tatsumi’s as well, but he chose to ignore the sensation.

Calcedonia rubbed her forehead against Tatsumi’s chest over and over. In sync with her movements, her ahoge poking out from the top of her head bobbed up and down.

As Tatsumi inadvertently watched the ahoge swaying from side to side, a certain memory came to mind.

Back when Chiiko was still full of energy, she used to act spoiled like this too, rubbing her head against Tatsumi’s hand or cheek.

Sometimes she would tilt her head slightly, as if to say, “Pet me, pet me,” urging Tatsumi on. At times like that, naturally, Tatsumi would run his fingertips in circles over the top of her little head.

As that memory came flooding back, Tatsumi found himself unconsciously stroking the top of the woman clinging to him with the palm of his hand. People call that a conditioned reflex.

She must have been startled by the sudden sensation of Tatsumi’s palm on the top of her head. Calcedonia looked up with a startled expression and stared intently at Tatsumi.

“M-Master…”
“Ah… I-I’m s-sorry!! My old cockatiel used to do something similar, so I just…”

Tatsumi mumbled an apology as he hurriedly pulled his hand back. Anyone would probably hate it if someone suddenly touched their head so familiarly. As he thought that, he actually wanted to keep touching the soft feel of her hair against his palm just a little longer.

But Calcedonia didn’t seem angry. On the contrary, her expression softened even more with delight.

“Yes…!! Yes…!! That’s how it is!! You used to stroke my head like this all the time, Master!! I remember!! I remember how warm your hand was, Master… well, it was just your fingertip back then, but it was so warm…!!”

With her beautiful face streaked with tears of joy, Calcedonia hugged Tatsumi tightly.

“Master… my… my master…!!”

Calcedonia kept repeating those words over and over, as if delirious.

Tatsumi stared intently at her.

Naturally, the woman clinging to him and the Chiiko, the cockatiel, were two completely different beings.

Even so, Tatsumi couldn’t completely dismiss her words.

Because her aura and her subtle mannerisms were far too similar to his Chiiko.

There are indeed moments when intuition overrides reason. And right now, his intuition was telling him that there was no lie in her words.

“Is it really… is it really you… Chiiko…?”
“Yes!! I am Chiiko. I was reincarnated as a human in this world, but I still have memories of when I was Chiiko… of when I was a cockatiel. How you raised me, Master… and how you watched when I passed… I am your Chiiko…!!”
“R-reincarnated…? In *this world*…?”

Words commonly found in novels—like “another world,” “summoning,” and “reincarnation”—raced through Tatsumi’s mind.

Meanwhile, Calcedonia continued to press her soft body against Tatsumi. What’s more, they were in what appeared to be a dimly lit basement—and on top of Tatsumi’s bed, no less.
Nobody would blame Tatsumi if his body instinctively reacted, as a male himself.

*What on earth should I do now?*

As reason and instinct continued their fierce battle and Tatsumi was deeply troubled, a third voice echoed through the basement, where there should have been only the two of them.

“Now, now, Calcie. Take it easy. You’re putting sonny in a bind.”

It was the voice of an elderly man—gentle, yet with a core of undeniable strength.

.

Tatsumi reflexively turned his face toward the source of the voice.

There stood an elderly man.

He was about the same height as Tatsumi. Since Tatsumi was 168 cm tall, the old man might be considered quite tall for his age.

He was a gentle-looking elderly with a full, long beard the same color as his white hair. He looked to be about 70 years old. While Tatsumi had no idea what the average lifespan was in this world where Tatsumi had been called—or summoned, undoubtedly—the man would likely be considered quite elderly.

Yet, despite his age, he stood with his back straight and didn’t seem particularly frail. To summarize, he gave the impression of a spriteful grandpa.

Upon closer inspection, Tatsumi could see a door wide open behind the old man. It seemed he had been so distracted by the woman claiming to be Chiiko’s reincarnation that he hadn’t noticed the door earlier.

The old man approached Tatsumi and Calcedonia slowly, a gentle smile on his face.

As he walked, the loose, white robe he wore rustled softly.

It was a costly-looking garment, clearly made of pure white, high-quality fabric. Given the generous use of gold and silver thread throughout and the meticulous fine embroidery, this old man must be either a person of high standing or extremely wealthy. Perhaps both..

Looking at the old man’s attire, Tatsumi got the impression he resembled a Christian priest he’d seen on TV or somewhere.

“I was getting worried, Calcie, so I came to check and what did I find… Ho ho ho, seems like you’ve successfully summoned sonny, after all.”
“Yes, Grandfather. I’ve successfully summoned Master to this world.”
“Ho ho ho, I see, I see. That is most gratifying. Now then, my son.”
“Err… son…? Could you possibly be… referring to me…?”
“Of course I am. Aside from myself and my granddaughter Calcedonia, you are the only one here, no?”

Maintaining his usual gentle smile, the old man continued.

“Shall we save the details for another time? This isn’t the place for a long conversation. Besides…”

The old man’s gaze shifted to Calcedonia, who was still sitting on Tatsumi’s lap.

“Go and change your clothes already, Calcedonia. The way you’re dressed right now is a bit too tempting for the young sonny..”

At the old man’s words, Calcedonia jumped away from Tatsumi as if she’d been struck. Realizing how she was dressed, she hurriedly covered her ample bosom with both hands.

“O-oh, how could I… What a scandalous sight I’ve shown you, Master…”

Her face flushed bright red in an instant. Calcedonia scrambled off Tatsumi’s bed and dashed straight out the open door.

As she did so, her shapely buttocks swayed back and forth, visible through the sheer fabric, and Tatsumi’s eyes were involuntarily glued to the sight.

Then, the old man smiled cheerfully as he watched Tatsumi.

Tatsumi noticed the old man’s gaze and blushed just as fiercely as Calcedonia had moments before.

“Ho ho ho, I guess you’re a man too, sonny. No, no, that reaction is only natural. On the contrary, I’m actually relieved that you reacted to my granddaughter as a man should.”

The old man’s gentle laughter echoed through the basement.

.

“Let’s start with introductions. My name is Giuseppe Chrysoprase. I hold the position of Supreme Pontiff of the Savaiv Church of this country here.. the Kingdom of Largovere.”
“S-Supreme Pontiff…?”

Tatsumi’s eyes widened involuntarily as he stared intently at the elderly man named Giuseppe sitting before him.

Just moments ago, he and Giuseppe had moved from that basement to this room, which resembled a reception parlor.

There was a soft, comfortable-looking sofa and an expensive-looking table with intricate carvings. The room was dotted with tasteful furnishings, and a vase—which also looked quite expensive—held a beautiful, understated floral arrangement. It was clear at a glance that this room was intended to entertain people of a certain standing.

Tatsumi had been silent when he followed Giuseppe from the basement—it was indeed a basement, just as he’d thought—to this reception room. To be honest, he barely remembered the route they’d taken, but judging by the considerable distance they’d walked to reach this spot, he surmised that the building they were in was quite large.

Moreover, the hallways along the way were all lined with thick, plush carpets, and there wasn’t a speck of dust to be seen. It seemed the cleaning was done with great care.

There hadn’t been any windows along the way, so he hadn’t been able to see the outside, but since bright light was streaming in through a window in the reception room where they were now, he concluded it wasn’t night. That is, assuming this otherworldly place even had a concept of night. After all, this was a strange, unfamiliar world. If that were the case, it wouldn’t be surprising if there were a world where it was daytime all year round, with no night.

Just as Tatsumi found himself thinking such things, a cup of tea—poured into what appeared to be a ceramic cup—was placed on the table in front of him with a soft clink.

“Here you go. Please be careful, it’s hot.”
“Uh… ah, um… thank you…”

The one who had placed it there was a tall man in his mid-twenties who introduced himself as Baldio. He gave a warm smile as he stepped away from the table, bowed, and left the room.

The clothes he wore also bore a design very similar to Giuseppe’s. However, since they had fewer decorative elements like embroidery compared to Giuseppe’s, it could be inferred that while he held a certain rank, it was likely not as high as Giuseppe’s.

He was likely someone in a position akin to Giuseppe’s secretary. Perhaps to avoid overhearing the conversation between Giuseppe and Tatsumi, he promptly left the moment his business was done.

Tatsumi took a sip of the tea he was offered, thinking it would be a shame to refuse. The flavor and aroma that spread through his mouth vaguely resembled jasmine tea.

This was likely the standard tea of this world, or at least of this country. Moreover, it was the kind of tea a figure of such high standing as the Supreme Pontiff would serve to a guest. It must surely be made from premium tea leaves.

Having come to this conclusion on his own, Tatsumi decided to savor the tea slowly, since he was there anyway. Giuseppe watched him with an amused expression.

“Well then, it’s about time I discuss the details with you, my son… But still, where is Calcie? She is not usually this late, that lass.”

Giuseppe stroked his long beard and glanced toward the door leading from this room to the outside.

It was true, as he said; quite some time had passed since they’d arrived in this reception room. Tatsumi reflexively glanced at his wristwatch.

He had put this watch on his wrist first thing in the morning out of habit. As a result, it had been summoned along with him.

The only other items summoned with him were his bed, the acoustic guitar—a memento from his father that he had been holding at the time of the summoning—and the old-fashioned cell phone in his pants pocket. Other than that, there was only the sweatshirt and jeans he was currently wearing.

When Tatsumi peered at the watch on his left wrist, Giuseppe raised one eyebrow and leaned forward with interest.

“Well now, sonny. What could that possibly be?”

Giuseppe looked at the watch with eyes that sparkled strangely, just like a child facing a new toy.

Smiling at Giuseppe, Tatsumi took the watch off his wrist and handed it to him.

“This is called a wristwatch. It’s a tool for telling time. In the world I came from, it’s a pretty common item used in everyday life.”
“Oh? A timepiece, is it? It’s remarkably small and has a rather unusual shape for that, no?”

Giuseppe examined the watch he’d received with great interest. While this world does have items similar to watches, they are limited to things like hourglasses or sundials at best. Naturally, there’s no way they’d have a sophisticated mechanical watch like Tatsumi’s.

Tatsumi’s watch is a quartz chronograph that doesn’t require battery replacement thanks to its light-powered battery; it was a gift from his younger sister to celebrate his acceptance into high school.

He had been wearing it on his left wrist during that accident, and although it sustained a few minor scratches, miraculously it didn’t break and is still working just fine.

“Hmm… there seem to be several needle-like things here… From the looks of it, they are used to measure time, but it seems only the thinnest needle is moving…”
“In the world I came from, we first divide a day into twenty-four equal parts, then divide that by sixty, and from there…”

Tatsumi explained the concept of time in his world. Giuseppe listened with wide eyes.

“I see… Whyever would you divide time into such fine increments, then? Is there some reason you need to divide it that way in the world you came from?”
“Why, you ask…”

When asked this, Tatsumi found himself at a loss for words.

The common sense of time—that a day has twenty-four hours, an hour has sixty minutes—was something he had accepted without question in his daily life. Even when asked, he couldn’t explain why it was that way.

Tatsumi didn’t know when or where Earth’s concept of time had been established. But until now, he had simply accepted it as common sense, regardless of its origins. Naturally, however, such common sense didn’t apply in this world.

This was undoubtedly another world.

Tatsumi felt once again that he had come to a world where his previous common sense was completely useless.