The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent-Chapter 436

What Charlotte wanted was simple.

At first, I thought maybe she was planning some kind of princess cosplay. But in reality, all she’d done was book movie tickets.

“I’d have loved it if there was something with a princess in it, but unfortunately nothing’s opening at the right time. Let’s just make do with this animated one.”

She said that with her hands tucked in her coat pockets.

For a moment, I wondered if Charlotte had chosen this to be considerate toward us.

But the glimmer of excitement in her eyes made it clear that wasn’t the case. Her face was lit up with genuine anticipation.

The five of us, arms full of sodas and popcorn, slid into a row of seats. It was a weekday afternoon, so the theater was pretty empty. And since it was an animated film, it probably wasn’t the kind of movie that drew big crowds anyway.

The movie was from a studio Charlotte loved, so it was an easy watch.

There was no grand twist, no attempt at societal commentary—just a smooth, happy ending.

The animation was beautiful, and the humor hit the mark here and there.

Though to be fair, we’d eaten about 30% of the popcorn and soda during the pre-show ads.

“That was fun!”

Mia's eyes sparkled as she shouted joyfully on our way out.

The four of us instinctively reached out and tousled her hair. Mia flinched, as usual, but after spending months with us, she no longer recoiled or tried to twist away like she used to.

Back home, we had a late lunch.

Nothing fancy again.

We just grabbed some burgers from a place nearby and chatted as we ate.

“The protagonist in the movie earlier—”

“Oh, did you hear about the limited edition sneakers that brand just released—?”

“Look at that couple over there—”

Just plain, everyday talk. Nothing special. Stuff you forget about minutes after you say it.

Charlotte rested her chin on her hand, leaned forward over the table, stretched out her legs in her chair, and joined our conversation with a peaceful smile.

I started to get a clearer idea of what Charlotte really wanted.

After lunch, we stayed out until sunset.

With no particular destination.

We wandered aimlessly, following wherever our feet took us.

Sometimes we walked past a famous brand store with floor-to-ceiling glass windows, other times we ducked into narrow back alleys.

We found a street vendor selling bungeoppang and split some among us. Later, we bought manju—those little steamed buns that always smell incredible in subway stations.

There were touristy pockets even in alleys far from any subway or bus stops. Some streets were surprisingly picturesque.

We stopped by a café for one of those ridiculously long-named drinks, sniffed at coffee beans we didn’t understand at all, just because.

We even squeezed into a coin karaoke room. Since it was too tight for all five of us, we split into smaller groups and took turns, mixing up who sang with who.

Watching a character from a Japanese game sing a K-pop idol song was... honestly, kind of refreshing.

We took a lot of pictures. All five of us had smartphones, after all.

We snapped each other’s photos, huddled together, pressed cheek to cheek just to fit into the frame.

It was fun. Truly.

“Why don’t we eat dinner at home?” Charlotte suggested as we watched the winter sun set early.

“I’d really like to cook for you all... Oh, but we should swing by the market first.”

So we did.

Not a big grocery chain, just the small neighborhood market near home.

Charlotte carefully picked out meat and vegetables one by one. Since none of us knew what she planned to make, we just followed behind her like ducklings.

She carried the bags herself, full of ingredients. When I tried to take them for her—

“I want to carry them.”

She smiled gently, and I couldn’t insist after that.

*

What Charlotte cooked was a dish we’d actually had before.

I thought maybe she was hiding a true hobby, but this—this seemed sincere too.

Boeuf Bourguignon.

But while it was something familiar, there was something different about it—something more fundamental.

“Did you change some ingredients?”

“Yes. I bought everything from the local market. Though the wine, well—I had to settle for just regular wine.”

She smiled as she answered my question.

Even as we eagerly ate, Charlotte just watched us with satisfaction. There was a plate in front of her too, but she was eating much more slowly than we were.

“Is it weird?”

“Not at all.”

The rest of the group nodded quickly in agreement.

They say boeuf bourguignon is one of France’s classic home dishes.

And apparently, there are as many recipes as there are French households. So rather than following someone else’s, making it in your own way like Charlotte did—that might be the most authentic method of all.

“I’m glad.”

She looked genuinely relieved, smiling softly as she ate.

“I wanted to feel this kind of atmosphere one more time before we go back.”

Her words made all our spoons freeze for a moment. We glanced around at each other—everyone but Charlotte.

We’d all probably guessed this much.

Charlotte loved fairy tale princesses.

But it wasn’t that she wanted to be one.

It was more about a wish that couldn’t easily be fulfilled. A desire that was unreachable specifically because she was a princess.

She chose this because every little moment here felt so beautiful, so precious.

Just like I felt.

“I think I understand now why cooking is enjoyable. Watching someone happily eat what I made... I really love that.”

“You can cook for me when I come visit sometimes,” Alice said playfully.

“Will the emperor of a whole country be visiting foreign lands that often?” Charlotte teased back, but Alice just shrugged.

“Well, I won’t have much to do once I retire, right? If I show up as a kind of unofficial ambassador, it might help strengthen ties between nations.”

“...That’s true. If we really do live long enough for that, I think it’d be lovely to meet again.”

Charlotte nodded seriously at Alice’s second answer.

“Then let’s make a promise,” Claire said with a smile.

“No matter when it is—even if we return—we will make time to meet again.”

“Geez, you make it sound like we’re leaving tomorrow,” Mia pouted.

“But tomorrow is my day,” she added.

“Oh, right. Sorry, sorry.”

Claire apologized with a sheepish grin.

“So, Mia, what do you want to do? You’ve decided, right?”

“Yeah... I’ve decided. But... I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

Mia blushed as she spoke.

Like Charlotte, maybe ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) Mia’s dream had nothing to do with magical girls.

Her past had been just as lonely, in her own way.

“W-What about you, Sylvia?”

Trying to shift attention away from herself, Mia turned to me.

“You’re last. Do you have something in mind?”

......

Hmm. Not really.

Honestly, I was so satisfied with our life right now that I hadn’t thought of anything specific I had to do.

But maybe I should come up with something.

Maybe I’ll tag along with Mia tomorrow and see if inspiration strikes.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Charlotte smiled radiantly.

“Today was just a casual outing, and it was already this fun. I wonder what you’ll come up with.”

“Uh... uhm...”

“......”

Charlotte’s anticipation was blinding.

I mean, I know it was pure and sincere—but still, it was kind of overwhelming.

“After we finish dinner,”

I decided to change the subject.

“Why don’t we watch a movie together? One of Charlotte’s favorites.”

“Oh, that sounds nice. You can’t really talk in a theater anyway.”

Charlotte nodded with a warm smile.

I wasn’t sure if she knew I was trying to divert the conversation, or if she was genuinely excited.

Maybe... both.