Atem declares that theory beats experience and stakes Seto's lunch on it.
The Golden Bento Theory survives cold temperatures, an in-house camera, three departments of speculation, an emergency thread on the company message board, a dozen priests losing their composure, a calendar revision in the Netherworld, and a cafeteria-wide outbreak of weeping. What it does not survive is the reaction outside the theory.
This is a translation of an original work on Pixiv.
Original Title: 愛と理論 03 王、弁当を作る
Original Author: 葉人(@Hathor_yuki)
Personal site: https://prideshipping.sakura.ne.jp
In the wide kitchen — galley, more accurately — steam and a savory smell filled the air.
Atem was in the middle of exercising the skills he'd acquired on the "at-home date."
His hand slid the knife along with a technique that had become reasonably watchable; and even so, what his hands were doing still looked like a rite.
"...That scorching exceeds the permissible range."
Seto, who had appeared while surveying the news, pointed it out flatly.
Atem answered without lifting his head.
"It isn't scorching. It's the result of a computation."
"Computation?"
"Heat level, oil absorption rate, viscosity of the egg mixture. I calculated all of it. It's the golden ratio."
"Don't cook tamagoyaki by the golden ratio."
"Then what do you cook it by?"
"Accumulated experience."
An instant of silence.
Atem's mouth turned up, and his eyes shone provokingly.
"Theory or experience — which of them is correct. I'll prove it to you today."
"You intend to challenge me to a match?"
"At noon."
Seto closed the news and smiled quietly.
"...I'll take you on. With my lunch as the stake."
One lunchbox was closed without a sound.
Beneath the lid, a world of noon constructed by golden ratio.
With that in hand, Seto left for work.
Lunch break.
The top floor of Kaiba Corporation. The president's office.
In a space that had been a symbol of stillness and efficiency, an anomaly occurred.
Without a sound, a lunchbox was set down on the desk. A weighty black-lacquer lid, gold clasps. Very nearly a holy relic.
The container looked as though it might be worth more than the contents, though for Seto the contents were of course the more valuable.
Seto lowered himself into his chair and opened the lid without a word.
For some reason a single guard in the corridor turned around. He felt as though a faint scent had leaked out.
The smell of noon, on a floor where temperature and humidity were both perfectly controlled... could not physically leak, the climate design being flawless, which meant that what had intruded was no more than a presence.
"...What is this."
Seto's voice was low, but a slight surprise was mixed into it.
Tamagoyaki shining golden.
Grilled salmon with its gloss held down.
Simmered beans, spinach in broth.
The colours were arranged in good order, and every placement was geometrically perfect.
Which is to say, the one who made it could only be Atem.
"That man... he really did it under his own power."
Muttering it quietly, Seto took up his chopsticks.
A president who, ordinarily, would eat a lunch carried in to him.
Taking lunch in the president's office was, ordinarily, the usual thing — but today something was different.
An in-house camera happened to capture the president mid-lunch.
That footage was shared in succession by accounting, engineering, the secretarial section, reception, every department there was.
"The president has a lunchbox...?"
"Wait — doesn't that look homemade?"
"Surely not... no, surely not..."
"Could it possibly be... A — Atem-san...?" (the best-informed person in the company)
And that quiet stir spread faster than anyone expected.
On Kaiba Corporation's unofficial social network, the "KC Internal Board," a thread went up in a mere five minutes.
The company headed quietly toward panic.
And somewhere in their hearts, all of them were weeping. (That president, and he has someone like that... thank goodness...!)
[BREAKING] President's lunch is a lunchbox (no image) [SHAKEN]
[ANALYSIS] Reading the structure of dominance and trust from the contents of the lunchbox
[WHO MADE IT DEBATE] The Atem theory is the strong one [from a certain source]
Seto, of course, knew nothing of this. (Or knew and was ignoring it.)
He only murmured, as though to himself, while working his chopsticks along.
"...Even cold, the theory hasn't collapsed."
Theory, no less.
The Golden Bento Theory was designed to withstand even changes in temperature.
When Seto brought the last mouthful to his mouth, he laughed lightly.
"Heh... the victory is yours."
Behind those small words, satisfaction and a very great happiness were mixed together.
The afterlife, several days later.
The air was cold and tranquil, the light diffusing softly.
As though to break that quiet, a man appeared from beyond the gate.
Seto Kaiba.
The only human able to come and go between the mortal world and the afterlife, and the external advisor to this world who had built up the afterlife's communication network.
"Today's afterlife business, from thirteen hundred. ...It straddles noon."
He declared it flatly and squared up to the work desk.
But today of all days, that "noon" was the problem.
At Seto's side there was something conspicuously out of place.
A two-tier black-lacquer lunchbox (one tier having increased). On the gold clasps, the seal of King.
The contents, of course, respectfully produced by Atem.
A priest whispered in a trembling voice.
"...That is — surely it can't be..."
Another priest answered.
"An offering from the mortal world, by the King's own hand — !?"
Still another priest went down on one knee and took the posture of prayer.
"Lord Seto has... been chosen...!"
Seto, meanwhile, remained perfectly composed, opening the lunchbox while operating his terminal.
The scent filled the afterlife. Simmered vegetables and grilled fish, and tamagoyaki forming a perfect golden ratio.
Stillness.
At the sheer divinity of it, no one breathed. There were priests physically stopping themselves.
Seto moved his chopsticks. Every last motion drew the gazes of a dozen-odd priests.
"...It's good."
The moment he murmured it, a priest in the rear row let out a scream that never became sound.
"G-good...!? He appraised the King's lunchbox as good — !"
"He has shared the palate of a god...!?"
"The order of the afterlife — !"
Seto let out a deep breath.
"Calm yourselves. Taste is the result of chemistry and structure."
"It is not love!?"
"Theory."
"...! Sublime theory!"
They said sublime, but in fact every interpretation the priests had could be settled with sublime.
At that point the communication terminal chimed faintly.
When Seto answered, Atem's figure was on the screen.
How was the taste?
"No margin of error in composition or arrangement. Perfect."
I see. Then the theory has been established.
"...Yes. The Golden Bento Theory: demonstration complete in the afterlife as well."
The priests prostrated themselves on the floor as one.
"The golden theory — !"
"So this is the fusion of love and reason...!"
"We must learn... we must learn...!"
In the afterlife, an unthinkable bento revolution had broken out.
Some of the younger priests began, on the spot, drafting plans to install a kitchen.
"We too shall apply the Loving-Wife Bento Theory!"
"Loving wife? But we have no wives..."
"Theoretically, it's possible!"
"Theoretically!? Meaning a theoretical marriage!?"
Pressing at his headache, Seto let out a sigh.
"...Atem. Your influence is no longer anything but a religion."
It isn't a religion. It's logic.
"...Don't lie."
Atem laughed from the other side of the screen.
The reconstruction of the afterlife requires both theory and love, doesn't it?
Unable to hold back his laughter, Seto finally let his mouth loosen.
In that instant, every priest watching attained enlightenment.
"...So this is the power of the King's smile...!"
"The golden bento is a holy relic of the afterlife after all — !"
From that day on, the afterlife revised its calendar.
Goldenday. The day the King's bento manifested.
Night.
Seto came home to the Kaiba mansion.
With the air of the afterlife still faintly clinging to the hem of his coat, he took one light, wordless deep breath.
In the living room, Atem was sitting quietly in front of a steaming mug.
The lighting had been dropped low, and its wavering traced the outlines of the two of them softly.
"...The afterlife is in an uproar."
"I heard. It seems the designation has become the Case of the King's Bento."
"It hasn't. Don't make it a case. It was lunch."
"I mean that it moved them enough to be called a case. Be pleased along with me."
Seto sighed, took off his suit jacket and laid it over the sofa.
Atem held out a herbal tea.
The golden surface of the liquid swayed quietly.
"How was it? The taste."
"Perfect, exactly as the theoretical value. The balance of taste, composition, temperature and scent. It was close to the golden ratio."
"Which is to say, the Golden Bento Theory has been established."
"...I didn't think you'd seriously make it the name of a theory."
"A theory earns its name only by being verifiable. You ate it and evaluated it. That is the evidence."
"...What sort of king speaks of love through reasoning."
"What sort of scientist tries to hide love with reasoning?"
For a while they tangled their gazes in silence, and then, neither one first, they smiled faintly.
At the bottom of a conversation wearing the skin of reasoning, there was a temperature he was sure of.
Atem leaned forward a little and undid Seto's necktie.
The movements were careful, and wordless.
Without looking away, Seto watched what his hands were doing.
"In the afterlife it seems they're calling it a loving-wife bento, too."
"Correct them. It's a theoretical lunch."
"Heh... even corrected, no one is going to believe it."
His fingertips went from the knot of the tie and touched, suddenly, the base of Seto's throat.
Seto's breathing stopped slightly.
"...Your body temperature is high."
"The nights of the afterlife are cold. Come back and there's a differential."
"Then I'll warm you a little."
Along with the words, Atem climbed up onto the sofa and, over his shoulder, embraced him gently.
Neither of their expressions changed. But the silence told of the emotion that lay outside the theory.
"Atem... since when have you become so much of a practical school?"
"Once the theory is complete, next comes the experiment, doesn't it?"
"A dangerous researcher."
"For you alone, though."
Seto laughed slightly and let the strength go out of his shoulders.
In the held-down light, their shadows overlapped.
For that quiet embrace, neither science nor kingship nor reasoning was required.
Only, one conclusion surfaced, unmistakably.
Theoretically, and in fact — they can no longer be separated.
Kaiba Corporation in the morning.
At the entrance to the employee cafeteria there was, for some reason, a posted notice.
[Today Only: Prototype Special Bento "Golden Ratio Bento β" now being distributed (resolve required)]
*Provided in cooperation with: President Kaiba and Special Advisor Atem
"...Resolve required — resolve for what?"
"The moment the president's Special Advisor is named on it, that's already a danger signal."
Around that time, the president's office.
Seto, surveying the morning data report, said one thing without expression.
"...Atem."
"What is it?"
"What did you do."
"Improvement. I developed the theory further. I optimised the golden ratio for individual preferences."
"...And you experimented with that in the employee cafeteria?"
"To confirm the universality of a theory, you need a population size, don't you?"
"...Aren't you confusing scientific research with corporate management?"
"Not confusing. Fusing."
At that instant there was a knock at the door, and Mokuba, the vice president, came flying in in a fluster.
"Nii-sama! It's bad! A tears-of-emotion phenomenon has broken out in the cafeteria!"
"...Tears-of-emotion phenomenon?"
"The moment the employees eat it, they're crying! Things like it reminded me of my mother or I can see an ancient desert!"
"That is no longer a meal, it's a vision."
"A success."
Atem folded his arms and nodded, looking satisfied.
"In what respect."
"It stimulates the emotions and calls up memory. This is the royal road of food."
"Your royal road generates social disorder."
"Nii-sama, this is going viral on the employees' unofficial network too. I cried over the golden ratio bento."
"Splendid. Let's make it popular in the afterlife as well."
"Don't. That place is already in disorder over your lunchbox."
"Then an improved version..."
"Stop improving it any further. ...Listen to me, Atem. Your bento theory is complete. Any more and the human stomach won't hold out."
"In that case, if we ran a palate endurance experiment..."
"We won't."
Seto closed the documents and let out a deep breath.
But one lunchbox set at the edge of the desk caught his eye.
Gold wrapping paper. A small inverted-pyramid mark.
"...You prepared mine as well."
"Of course. The King's theory exists for the King and the scientist."
"...The phrasing is convoluted, but I'll accept it."
When Seto took up his chopsticks, Atem asked quietly.
"Well then. The cafeteria's reaction has been confirmed. Next is your reaction."
"...Stop treating me as an experimental subject."
"No. It's an act of confirming love."
Seto stopped his chopsticks for an instant and gave a wry smile.
"...You're gradually getting smoother with your mouth, aren't you?"
"Learning is a thing accomplished through continuation."
"Before long you'll be seducing me more logically than I do."
"That would be a problem. Because then you'd fall silent."
At that instant Seto's hand stopped, and a laugh slipped out of him.
The Golden Bento Theory. It was no longer a mere theory, but a metaphor for the love between the two of them.
Night.
In the quiet room, the sound of the front door opening rang out.
Seto had come home. Taking off his jacket, he called out toward the footsteps he could hear approaching.
"I'm back, Atem."
"Seto. Welcome home."
Atem had presumably been in the kitchen. Still in a white one-piece (somewhat shorter today) and an apron, he looked a little proud.
"How was it? The golden theory."
"Whether the theory you speak of concerns the taste of the lunchbox or psychological strategy in the workplace — I can't quite judge."
Atem answered immediately.
"Both. Improved concentration through gustatory stimulation, and a rise in company morale through the cultural shock of the president brought a lunchbox. By my assessment, both were successes."
"I see. It's true that today the employees' gazes were oddly hot. Some of them were weeping over the large-scale experiment. That's at a level that affects operational efficiency."
Seto lowered himself onto the sofa and loosened his necktie.
"Which is to say, that makes it my victory, does it not?"
Seto threw a look at Atem.
"Let's make the definition of victory clear once more."
Atem smiled slightly and set a steaming mug on the table.
"You looked happy. That is evidence beyond anything else."
"......"
Seto took up the cup and had a mouthful of herbal tea.
Even this golden herbal tea, he'd grown used to over the course of being handed it by Atem.
"Which is to say, you're defining your own theory as an apparatus that produces happiness."
"A theory has meaning only once it's been verified."
"Then what's the next verification?"
"Tomorrow is an afterlife duty day, isn't it?"
Atem's eyes glinted mischievously.
"Observing the reactions of the King's subordinates would be its own amusement."
"...Those men will collapse this time."
Seto laughed low.
"The human world is still in a stir over nothing more than my bringing a lunchbox. If the priests of the afterlife saw it, their reason would break down over a simple daily routine."
"Breakdown is also a byproduct of the theory."
"I see. So that's what the Golden Bento Theory is."
An exchange of quips.
That should have been all it was, and yet a warm heat seeped into the gaps between the words.
Seto stood up and walked over in front of Atem.
"...Your theory did have an effect, certainly."
"Which was?"
"My appetite was stimulated. No — something beyond that."
Atem shrugged and laughed.
"That's a reaction outside the theory."
"Outside the theory, is it."
Seto's fingers touched Atem's cheek lightly.
"But... outside the theory isn't something I dislike."
Atem laughed too.
"Which is to say, that's tonight's conclusion."
Within the scent of the herbal tea, their conversation dissolved, before either noticed, into silence.
Without a sound, one touch.
And then once again, a calm night arrived.
The stillness deepened.
The herbal tea left at the bottom of the cup gave back the moonlight faintly.
Seto stood and took the empty cup from Atem's hand.
Without lining up reasoning as he usually would, only his fingertips touched, lightly.
"...There's still some temperature left."
"Are we talking about the herbal tea?"
"No. About your hand."
Atem let out a breath and laughed.
"Poetic. It doesn't sound like a scientist's line."
"If there's a phenomenon that can't be explained by reasoning, there's nothing to rely on but poetry."
Just as he was, Seto gently took hold of Atem's fingers.
"But at the least, this sensation has high reproducibility. Every time, I feel the same heat."
"Is that what you'd call the reproducibility of love?"
"If we're to call it that provisionally, then I acknowledge the value of continuing the experiment."
They laughed at each other.
It was like a game of words, and yet in every word there was a weight he was sure of.
Atem pushed lightly at Seto's chest with his fingertips.
"Your theory is too composed. It's underhanded sometimes."
"It only looks composed."
"Then how do you want it to look?"
Seto fell silent as though thinking a little, and then let a smile fall.
"To you alone, it's enough if it looks like thermal runaway."
Narrowing his eyes, Atem answered quietly.
"I'm the same. To you alone, I can release the controls."
Just as they were, the distance closed.
At the end of a long conversation, the lips that finally touched carried a temperature beyond theory or analysis.
"...Conclusion."
"What."
"Outside the theory is, after all, happiness."
"No objection."
Laughter and heartbeats overlapped, and the night grew calmly late.
Neither the afterlife nor the mortal world: a midpoint belonging only to the two of them. And there, the theory of love had been completed.
The morning light was excessively refreshing.
In the living room of the Kaiba mansion, the calm air of the previous night still lingered.
And on the table, the lunchbox in question.
When Seto picked it up, Atem nodded, looking satisfied.
"Today's experiment is a confirmation of constancy."
"A reproducibility check on the loving-wife bento?"
"Just so. An experiment in the compatibility of science and love."
"...You're getting more and more practiced at this."
A meaningful silence between the two of them.
As though recalling last night's phenomenon outside the theory, both of them smiled slightly.
And several hours later.
"Today as well, the president has... a lunchbox...!"
"And what's more... homemade...!"
"There are two more tiers than yesterday, though...!"
The internal chat quietly went into an uproar.
Among them a research department even appeared that began debating "what is the theory of love," and by lunch break the business administration division had gone so far as to hold a mysterious presentation titled "The Golden Bento Theory."
In the middle of all that, Seto himself ate in complete composure and said one thing.
"The theory is beautiful, and the reproducibility is perfect."
It goes without saying that this remark poured further oil on the fire.
The royal palace of the Underworld.
"The King has...! Once again...!"
"He has come bearing an offering of his own making!"
"It is not an offering. It's a loving-wife bento."
"Wh-what a... at once sacred and modern...!"
"Sublime!"
The priests' information processing had gone completely wrong.
Among them, a recorder had begun writing a scroll titled "The Equation of Love and Nutrition."
It seemed likely to spread even into the philosophy of the afterlife.
Watching the news, Atem gave a wry smile.
"Your company and my palace — neither of them shows any sign of settling down."
"That's how much reproducibility there was."
"I didn't think it would really become a theory, though."
"It isn't a bad theory. If it can prove the reproducibility of happiness, it has value."
When Seto said it calmly, Atem shrugged too.
"Then let's establish the next hypothesis. Does love deepen continuously? For verification..."
"Long-term observation will be required."
Their gazes crossed quietly.
Not theory, and not miracle: love that simply continues as an ordinary life.
That night, one more "happiness that will never become a paper" was added to the pile.
