Baka-Tsuki - User contributions [en]

Iris on Rainy Days: Dismantling- 7 Days Before

2017-11-28T15:52:59Z

Yasharjitm10: /* Chapter 1 - Dismantling */

=='''Chapter 1 - Dismantling'''==
[[File:Iris on Rainy Days p012.jpg|200px|thumb]]
"Take care on the road! Come home earlier!" (Iris Rain Umbrella)

===Dismantling: 7 Days Before===


At the center of the Venus Fountain Plaza, there stands the statue of a stunning goddess.

She has slim limbs, skin as white as silk, and a great figure. Today, the goddess still wears a gentle smile on her face, silently observing the surrounding crowd.

Oval City had once burned in the flames of war. When most of the town was burnt to the ground, only the goddess statue miraculously survived without so much as a scratch. From that day on, the statue of the goddess became a symbol of hope and revival and has been protected as the most important cultural asset of our country.

Beside the 170 centimeter tall goddess statue, the fountain is blooming flowers of water, in rainbow colors. On the dark tea-colored benches that were placed around the fountain, old men chat with each other, children play around, and lovers proclaim their love for each other. The harmonious scene looks like it came from a painting.

—it's indeed similar.

I hear a squeaking sound start, and I adjust the pupil function of my visual system. After focusing on the white goddess statue, I sigh lightly.

The goddess statue looks like Professor. Professor is the top researcher of robots, Doctor Wendy von Umbrella, Ph. D. I'm proud of her: she has a tall figure, beautiful, luscious, black hair, and wears glasses with a sleek, silver frame that suit her very much.

While thinking of Professor's shapely form, I stare blankly at the goddess statue when the sweet-sour smell of circlet cigarette floated over. I start to turn the angle of my neck, confirming the source of the fragrance.

The person who sat on the bench, smoking a circlet cigarette, is a middle aged man wearing a dark blue suit. He is reading today's copy of Oval Daily; but just now, he started to peek at me every now and again. I use a gentle smile to greet him, and he shyly shifts his gaze.

Circlet cigarettes, by the way, are a product used for smoking cessation. The shape is as suggested by the word 'circlet', and the size is about the size of a circle made with thumb and index finger. When people get one out to smoke it, the ring-shaped cigarette immediately straightens, and then the tip of the cigarette can then be lit.

Although it is a replacement for tobacco that was made to occupy the mouths of smokers who are trying to quit, recently more and more smokers are buying it because they like the scent. The most popular circlet cigarette is the type that combines two circlets into the shape of the number 8. This type of cigarette can be split into two halves, half of it to smoke, and the other half to hold the ashes.

I know about all of this because Professor Umbrella loves this type of circlet cigarette.

— Mnn.

I shift my gaze to the goddess statue again, and suddenly start to ponder. The goddess statue looks very similar to the tall professor. However, I just have this feeling that it is lacking 'something'. Every time I see it, I would have this uncoordinated feeling in me.

When this meaningless question surfaced in my mind, time's up.

— In five minutes, you will be unable to reach home by the scheduled time.

The inorganic, electronic voice of my mental circuit starts urging me to hurry home.

— Alright then, it's almost time to go.

With my back to the plaza, I start to walk home quickly. The shopping basket in my right hand is stuffed full of the ingredients for today's dinner, and a glittering silver La Bier fish is tied to my back, causing the pedestrians who pass by to turn their heads around when they see it. Their surprise is only natural since they're seeing me carry a huge, one meter long fish while I'm only a hundred and fifty centimeters tall myself. But after they notice that I am actually a robot, they showed an expression that suggested understanding.

Differentiating between humans and robot is very simple. The ones that have a round antenna on their ears (It looks really like an earphone) are robots, the ones who don't are humans. "It's the robot from the Umbrella residence!"— a voice clearly projects into my auditory system. So, I smiled back at the person. Though robots used in families is not uncommon, since Professor is a famous person, I get noticed sometimes when I walk in the streets.

After walking about ten minutes from the Fountain Plaza, I arrive at the Umbrella residence. Looking at the blue, ivy-covered door, I say: "Certification number HRM021-α, Iris Rain Umbrella. I'm back." After the electronic voice says "Certification complete, please enter", the big door opens silently.

The Umbrella residence is a grand mansion. There is a courtyard here the size of three station squares, and it is a large residence comparable to mansions of administrators. The red brick outer wall makes people understand the grandeur of the history and traditions of the Umbrella family.

After entering the mansion, a luxurious hall can be seen immediately. The sunlight entering from the skylight passes through the chandeliers, giving out a colourful radiance. The carpet spread on the floor is similar to the style of the ones in old castles. Large paintings are hung on the walls. Each is worth enough to provide a luxurious life.

Passing through the corridor with the exquisitely shining floor, I first place the fish in the freezer. I feel much better after that, and I start to walk towards the west-most room on that floor— the research room. The research room is stuffed full of materials and tools, the clean but chilly space is like a snowy field on a winter day.

Sitting on the creamy white bed near the wall, I first check my status meter.

Battery level 82.50%, waste in body 1.73%. The energy level is more than enough for labour, but Professor had ordered me to recharge. So I will charge.

After sterilizing the long, thin tube with a chemical twice, I open the lock on my wrist, showing the connection plug. If I made a mistake in the steps, the black machine oil might splatter all over the room, so I must be quite careful.

I insert the tube into my right and left hand in succession, then pressed the switch on the machine. Electric power and additional lubricating oil slowly flow into the connection plug on my right wrist. At the same time, the tea-colored waste in my body is sucked out of my left wrist.

The introduction manuals for robot maintenance usually say that the system is similar to humans using IV drips. Really though, the system excretes and cleans the body's internals, so it is more like artificial dialysis than IV drips.

I look up while charging my battery, staring at the metal sheeting on the ceiling. The mirror finish reflects my whole body.

There's not technically much difference in gender in robots, but I appear to be a girl. My age is set at fifteen. I have blue eyes with delicate eyebrows and maroon, slightly wavy, shoulder-length hair. The length of my limbs is similar to Professor's, and my face is that of a beauty, just like professor— I know it is so because Professor is always praising my cuteness - it's not just my opinion.

The maid costume that I am wearing was designed in a fairy tale style. A maid's headdress lightly waves on my head, while the cutting of the apron emphasizes the curves of my breasts. The peach coloured dress tightens at the waist, while the dress itself is quite loose, and would make people think of a wedding dress. Where did Professor buy such a lovely maid's costume, I wonder? Even now it's still a mystery.

After twelve minutes and one second, the process of charging finished. Battery level 99.93%, body waste 0.02%.

—Alright, target level achieved.

I jump down from the bed, leaving the research room. My destination is the kitchen because I have to prepare dinner.

In the large kitchen that is not inferior to high classed restaurants, I start to make a Bill La Bier stew pot. There's a lot of pots, sinks and gas stoves here, but I would always cook at the left side of the kitchen. Professor is very rich, and she could even hire over ten, or even over twenty chefs, but she didn't hire any up till now. Not only a chef, she didn't even hire other maids, and I have to handle the whole large Umbrella residence. I could only use all my effort, diligently finish the chores like cooking, washing the clothes and sweeping the floor.

I quickly cut the La Bier fish, and lightly pick up the pieces of peach-coloured fish.

—200.0025 grams.

While referring to the recipe searched from my mental circuit, I finish the preparations for making the Bill Labier stew pot. By the way, "La Bier" is a fish very similar to salmon, while "La Bier" is actually the name of a person. I'd heard that a fisherman called La Bier caught a large La Bier fish long ago, then he needed an entire night to finish the whole fish. His way of cooking it was to cut the fish into big pieces, then stew it with the spices— that's the origin of the La Bier stew pot. It sounds like a simple dish, but if you want to cook it well, there's quite a bit of technique involved. For instance, you have to accurately handle the fire and patiently scoop out the foam.

From the moment I pick up the kitchen knife, twenty seven minutes and twelve seconds have passed, and my job is done. I store the remaining food in the freezer. Professor doesn't have many visitors, so these leftover portions will probably go to waste in the freezer. With the large amount of ingredients bought and the large kitchen, the Umbrella residence is usually that wasteful.

As I complain in a small voice, an electronic voice rings in my mind.

— Professor Wendy von Umbrella has returned.

"She's back!"

I rush out of the kitchen, passing through the hall, and violently pull open the doors to the outside. My dress fluttering in the wind, I start to run to the forecourt.

— Professor! Professor!! Professor!!!

The person passing through the gate is a tall, black haired woman wearing a jacket that is light like a swan, and looks incomparably beautiful although it doesn't seem like she has any makeup on — my Professor walks over to me slowly. And then, she suddenly waves to me.

Not caring about the battery loss, I run with all my strength to the professor. I am running with the speed of a hundred meters in nine seconds, and emergency brake three meters in front of Professor. I am not sweating, or even panting, but my body is giving off heat like a steaming stove as if my body has been lit up. The image of Professor swirls in my mental circuit.

"Welcome back, Professor!"

I open my arms while beaming, welcoming the return of Professor. While I am somewhat over-reacting, this is just a way of showing my love for Professor.

Professor looks at me, with a gentle smile. She puts out the fire of her circlet cigarette and keeps the ashtray. My olfactory system detected a sweet sour smell after that.

"I'm back, Iris. Have you been a good girl today, too?"

That is a somewhat deep, cool and quiet voice for a female. The silver framed glasses on her nose makes her wise face even more striking.

"Yes! Professor's Iris has been a very, very good girl today too!"

"Is that so. What about dinner?"

"It's the same as what I told you, a La Bier stew pot!"

"What a good girl you are."

Professor extends her right hand to me.

— Alright, it's coming!

I happily wait for that moment.

Professor's hand lightly touches the top of my head. She used a gentle, but somewhat rough movement to caress my maroon hair.

This is truly an incomparable happiness.

I look just like a kitten that had been caressed, making satisfied sounds with my throat. I enjoy the pleasure of contact with Professor's gentle hand, and the sweet sour smell of the tobacco that tickles the nose.

<span style="font-size: 300%;"><center>♠</center></span>
Dinner time has always been the most nervous time for me.

Professor slowly scoops out a piece of La Bier fish from the pot. She continues by using a small knife to cut the fish, sticks a fork into it then swallows it with her rose colored lips.

Because of the chewing action, Professor's face is moving slightly. I stare at her face, slightly worried.

— Professor, how is it? Is it good? Hmm? Is it?

I ask repeatedly in my heart, waiting for Professor to express her thoughts.

"Hmm......"

Professor twists her neck. Then, my mental circuit suddenly cools down. Describing from the angle of a human, that would mean that a chill went up my back.

"E- e- e- errmmm, I- I- I- I- I- is there a problem with it?"

I ask in a rapid fire speed, feeling slightly dizzy. For Iris Rain Umbrella who is proud of her ability of doing chores, being told that my cooking is bad would be the same as questioning the meaning of my existence.

"To be frank......"

Professor raised one of her beautiful eyebrows, saying with an obviously displeased tone.

"To- to be frank?" I waited nervously for her next comment.

However, Professor's mouth slightly curls, a smile surfacing on her face. She says suddenly.

"It's really good."

I am quite shocked, and couldn't help but make an idiotic "...... Eh?" sound.

"Ah...... Eh? Aren't you disliking it......"

"No, it's very tasty. And the handling of the fire is especially good."

"............"

"Oh? What's the matter, Iris? Why are you showing me a tongue-tied expression?"

You can say that Professor is an S. The S in S&M. A sadist. She always uses these simple traps to trick me. By the way, this is already the twenty forth time. The pitiful thing about robots is that they even remember how many times meaningless things like this occur.
[[File:Iris on Rainy Days p025.jpg|200px|thumb]]
"Really, Professor! Haven't I said not to make that kind of joke!"

I throw the napkin at Professor angrily.

"Oi oi, that's too much of a waste."

"According to your words, the La Bier stew pot today is the wasteful one! Telling me to buy a whole fish, what are you preparing to do with it!"

Professor casually answered "I'll finish it after two days," and continues to eat. I answer "You always lie......," crumple the last napkin up, throw it, and it hits Professor's arm with a plop.

"Mnn, it really is tasty. Iris is really good at cooking."

Professor comments deliberately and places another piece of La Bier fish into her mouth. Although I feel somewhat frustrated, seeing Professor enjoying the stew, a note of satisfaction appeared in my heart.

After dinner, Professor goes to the washroom. While cleaning up the dishes, I recall Professor's childish actions, laughing for a moment, being annoyed for a moment, but a smile still surfaced on my face in the end.

Today, Professor is still pretty, likes to bully people, is gentle and stroked my hair.

— Mmm, right now I'm speechless with contentment.

The peaceful night slowly passes, and then it is bedtime. I change into my beloved pajamas with pictures of flowers on them, then knock on Professor's bedroom door.

"Professor, sorry for bothering you."

I walk into the room. As usual, Professor is wearing purple pajamas slightly open at the chest and is lying on her bed. She has a circlet cigarette in her mouth. The sweat sour smell is mixed with a slight smell of peppermint, and the smell floated over along with the smoke. The slogan used on television is "The taste of your first love," and I think that it's quite apt. That's right— it's the taste of the first love to me. The love between Professor and I— I really want to feel that too, but the only one in love is me, Professor is always calm.

I understand these feelings would only be useless, so it's better for me to be careful.

"Professor, smoking on the bed is too impolite."

"It's not against the law."

"And it could cause a fire."

"I never heard of cirgarettes causing fires."

Professor looks at the ceiling, continuing to puff out smoke. Ah, that's right, 'cirgarette' is another name for circlet cigarettes.

"The total data says that eight incidents occurred this year."

I block Professor's vision determinedly, looking at her from above. The smoke almost burned my eyes.

"How many times had it happened in Oval Town?" Professor continues to smoke.

"...... Zero."

"Then it's okay."

"But you can't use that as an excuse, Professor."

I stubbornly snatch the cirgarette away from Professor's mouth. "Ah, give it back!" Professor sits up, extending her hand to my elbow.

As revenge for Professor making fun of me during dinner, I run around the room while holding the cirgarette. Professor gets up from bed too, chasing me. I hide behind tables and chairs so that Professor cannot catch me. Although it's childish, there's still an undeniable charm to it.

After playing two short rounds of catch in the room, Professor says "It's time for bed" and takes off her silver framed glasses. She stares at me with her eyes like a colourful glass. Professor is a beauty when she wears her glasses, and she is still a beauty after she takes off her glasses.

—Ah.

The goddess statue isn't wearing glasses.

"What is it?" Professor stares at me from the bed. I lightly tilt my head, honestly speaking my thoughts: "Professor is indeed...... suited for glasses and cigarettes."

"Huh? Why are you suddenly saying that."

"No, that's just my thoughts. ...... Then Professor, is it okay?"

This question means, "May I snuggle into Professor's blanket?"

"Be my guest."

Professor lifts up her blanket and waves to me. I say "Excuse me," then nervously lie down beside professor. After that, I curl up my body and raise my head to look at Professor.

We are very close together, and I can see myself reflected in Professor's pupils.

"Good night, Professor."

I bury my head in Professor's large, soft hills. It's so soft and has a nice fragrance to it.

Professor hugs me gently, stroking my hair. Then, she says "Goodnight, Iris" and kisses my forehead.

After changing my status to sleep mode, I enter the world of slumber.

I had a happy day today, too.

<noinclude>
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|-
| Back to [[Iris on Rainy Days:Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[Iris on Rainy Days|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Iris on Rainy Days: Dismantling- 6 Days Before|Dismantling- 6 Days Before]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Iris on Rainy Days:Prologue

2017-11-28T15:40:50Z

Yasharjitm10:

Here are the remains of a scrapped robot.

Its left arm has been torn away with its left shoulder. The remaining right arm bends in an unnatural direction. The lower body, having been torn off, is missing. From its stomach, tubes and organ-like parts spill out messily.

At first glance, this robot seems no more than a piece of scrap. But once upon a time, it led a happy life, serving a family and being loved by its master.

HRM021-α, its registered name is Iris Rain Umbrella.

Based on the data in the mental circuits of HRM021-α, the following record was reconstructed by Ralph Ciel, of the First Robotics Laboratory, Oval University.

<noinclude>
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|-
| Back to [[Iris on Rainy Days:Illustrations|Novel illustrations]]
| Return to [[Iris on Rainy Days|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Iris on Rainy Days: Dismantling- 7 Days Before|7 Days Before]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Iris on Rainy Days:Prologue

2017-11-28T15:40:13Z

Yasharjitm10:

Here are the remains of a scrapped robot.

Its left arm has been torn away with its left shoulder. The remaining right arm bends in an unnatural direction. The lower body, having been torn off, is missing. From its stomach, tubes and organ-like parts spill out messily.

At first glance, this robot seemed no more than a piece of scrap. But once upon a time, it led a happy life, serving a family and being loved by its master.

HRM021-α, its registered name is Iris Rain Umbrella.

Based on the data in the mental circuits of HRM021-α, the following record was reconstructed by Ralph Ciel, of the First Robotics Laboratory, Oval University.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[Iris on Rainy Days:Illustrations|Novel illustrations]]
| Return to [[Iris on Rainy Days|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Iris on Rainy Days: Dismantling- 7 Days Before|7 Days Before]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Iris on Rainy Days

2017-11-28T15:38:42Z

Yasharjitm10: /* Story Synopsis */

[[Image:Iris on Rainy Days - cover art.png |thumb|300px|Cover art]]
'''''Iris on Rainy Days''''' (雨の日のアイリス / Ame no Hi no Iris) is a light novel written by Takeshi Matsuyama and illustrated by Hirasato. The novel is ranked 10th in the "This Light Novel is Great! 2012 (このライトノベルがすごい! 2012)" ranking.

Iris on Rainy Days is available in the following languages:
* [[Ірыс у дажджлівыя дні|Belarusian (Беларуская)]]
* [[Ирис в дождливые дни|Russian (Русский)]]
* [[Iris on Rainy Days ~ Français|French (Français)]]
* [[Iris on Rainy Days ~ (Spanish)|Spanish (Español)]]
* [[Iris on Rainy Days ~ (Italian)|Italian (Italiano)]]
* [[Iris_on_Rainy_Days_(Indonesia)|Bahasa (Indonesia)]]
==Story Synopsis==
The story is centered around a cute android who initially had a happy life with her master who dearly loved her. But she was then struck by a series of misfortunes and ended up in a robot-equivalent of a concentration camp. Through experiencing and witnessing the sufferings towards herself as well as the people/robots around her, she eventually gained a better appreciation of life.

== Characters Introduction ==
<div>
<div style="float: left; width: 350px; margin: 5px 20px;">
<b>Iris Rain Umbrella</b>
[[Image:Iris_on_Rainy_Days_Iris.jpg|left|link=]]
A cute android who lives a happy and peaceful life with her master, Wendy von Umbrella, but then one day...
</div>
<div style="float: left; width: 350px; margin: 5px 20px;">
<b>Wendy von Umbrella</b>
[[Image:Iris_on_Rainy_Days_Wendy.jpg|left|link=]]
A famous scientist in robotics and Iris's master. She really likes teasing poor Iris.
</div>
<br style="clear: both;" />
<div style="float: left; width: 350px; margin: 5px 20px;">
<b>Lilith Sunlight</b>
[[Image:Iris_on_Rainy_Days_Lilith.jpg|left|link=]]
A joyful and friendly android who is also sharp-tongued. She quickly becomes friends with Iris.
</div>
<div style="float: left; width: 350px; margin: 5px 20px;">
<b>Volkov Galosh</b>
[[Image:Iris_on_Rainy_Days_Volkov.jpg|left|link=]]
A huge robot with a stuttering voice and slow and clumsy motions. He seems to get along well with Lilith.
</div>
<br style="clear: both;" />

== Translation ==

=== [[Iris on Rainy Days:Registration Page|Registration]] ===

Those who wish to contribute are asked to first notify a supervisor beforehand.

'''Translators are asked to [[Iris on Rainy Days:Registration Page|register]] which chapters they're working on'''

===Format Standards===
'''Every Chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]

=== Feedback ===
'''If you enjoyed the teasers, why don't you tell us in the [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=15&t=4412 Discussion thread] or in the [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=23&t=4661 Teaser Feedback thread] and give the project a vote'''

== Updates ==
*June 15, 2011 - Teaser page created. Forum translations by DNK uploaded.
*January 13, 2012 - Iris on Rainy Days project completed. Credits to Zephyrus for the single-handed translation.
*March 6, 2014 - SS My Homework completed.

==<span id="_by">''Iris on Rainy Days ([[Iris on Rainy Days Full Text|Full Text]] - [https://www.mediafire.com/folder/8u9gycc742jiu/iris ePUB])''</span>==

=== [[Iris on Rainy Days:Illustrations|Novel illustrations]] ===

=== [[Iris on Rainy Days:Prologue|Prologue]] ===

=== Chapter 1 – Dismantling ===
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Dismantling- 7 Days Before|7 Days Before]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Dismantling- 6 Days Before|6 Days Before]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Dismantling- 5 Days Before|5 Days Before]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Dismantling- 4 Days Before|4 Days Before]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Dismantling- 3 Days Before|3 Days Before]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Dismantling- 2 Days Before|2 Days Before]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Dismantling- 1 Day Before|1 Day Before]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Dismantling- Day of Dismantlement|Day of Dismantlement]]'''

=== Chapter 2 – Rebirth ===
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Rebirth- Day 1|Day 1]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Rebirth- Day 2|Day 2]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Rebirth- Day 8|Day 8]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Rebirth- Day 15|Day 15]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Rebirth- Day 32|Day 32]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Rebirth- Day 44|Day 44]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Rebirth- Day 55|Day 55]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Rebirth- Day 69|Day 69]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Rebirth- Day 73|Day 73]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Rebirth- Day 78|Day 78]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Rebirth- Day 83|Day 83]]'''

=== Chapter 3 – Execution ===
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Execution- The Previous Night|The Previous Night]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Execution- The Day|The Day]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Execution- battery=04:50:36|battery=04:50:36]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Execution- battery=04:46:03|battery=04:46:03]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Execution- battery=04:21:29|battery=04:21:29]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Execution- battery=04:10:52|battery=04:10:52]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Execution- battery=03:58:01|battery=03:58:01]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Execution- battery=03:45:32|battery=03:45:32]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Execution- battery=02:14:17|battery=02:14:17]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Execution- battery=02:01:40|battery=02:01:40]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Execution- battery=01:49:52|battery=01:49:52]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Execution- battery=01:28:13|battery=01:28:13]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Execution- battery=01:24:41|battery=01:24:41]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Execution- battery=01:16:56|battery=01:16:56]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Execution- battery=00:58:34|battery=00:58:34]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Execution- battery=00:43:08|battery=00:43:08]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Execution- battery=00:05:36|battery=00:05:36]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Execution- battery=00:00:00|battery=00:00:00]]'''

=== Chapter 4 – Letters ===
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Letters- News Report – "National Defense Force Suppresses Robot Breakaway"|News Report – "National Defense Force Suppresses Robot Breakaway"]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Letters- News Report – "Paper Slips at the Scene Identified as Children Literature"|News Report – "Paper Slips at the Scene Identified as Children Literature"]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Letters- News Column – Modern Robotics - "The End of a Certain Robot"|News Column – Modern Robotics - "The End of a Certain Robot"]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Letters- Professor Wendy von Umbrella's Letter|Professor Wendy von Umbrella's Letter]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Letters- Ralph Ciel's reboot experiment|Ralph Ciel's reboot experiment]]'''
::* '''[[Iris on Rainy Days: Letters- Iris' Letter|Iris' Letter]]'''

=== [[Iris on Rainy Days: Afterword|Afterword]] ===

==Short Stories==
* [[Iris on Rainy Days: My Homework|My Homework]]

==Project Staff==
===Translators===
:*[[User:Zephyrus|Zephyrus]]
:*[[User:Pudding321|Pudding321]]

===Editors===
'''ACTIVE'''

[[User:Rock96|Rock96]] - occasionally drop by and edit small parts.

[[User:shadowmaster850|shadowmaster850]]

'''INACTIVE'''

== Series Overview ==
*雨の日のアイリス / Ame no Hi no Iris (10 May 2011, ISBN 978-4048705301)

[[Category:Light novel (English)]]
[[Category:Completed Project]]
[[Category:Oneshot]]
[[Category:Takeshi Matsuyama]]

[[Category:Genre - Drama]]
[[Category:Genre - Psychological]]
[[Category:Genre - Romance]]
[[Category:Genre - Sci-Fi]]
[[Category:Genre - Slice of Life]]

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume3 Chapter1

2017-09-29T04:53:50Z

Yasharjitm10: /* Chapter 1: Imperial Capital Departure */

==Chapter 1: Imperial Capital Departure==
===Part 1===
A sparrow wandered astray over the stone pavings.

It cocked its head once, twice, perplexed by a feeling of estrangement and then flapped its wings in a fluster.

Immediately following, a gust of wind rushed past as a gigantic shadow soared overhead. At a glance, it might be seen as a living creature. Its long neck, a ferocious face baring its fangs, and its large wings spread at its sides—a wyvern.

Alas, things like winged dragons did not inhabit this continent. Its howl, shrill as the creaking of metal, sounded from the humming of its ether engine, and its skin was the weightless metal, dragonstone, lightly painted over in bronze. Namely, this was the Mephius Empire’s airship.

These man-made wyverns carrying pilots in their bosoms took off from the ground in succession.

Orba looked up to watch them, his hand forming a visor over his eyes.

Flying front was the man named Neil Thompson, and simply being fairly skilled made him stand out greatly above the rest. Neil beautifully tilted the ship’s wings to a turn as the other ships frantically chased after it, like chicks straying from its mother.

But the one Orba hurled words of anger towards amongst them following their momentary return was Neil.

“This is no place to make a show of your theatrics! Pay more attention to the others! You won’t be able to do anything by yourself on the battlefield. Now, have another go.”

Pressed on by Orba—or to them, the first crown prince of the Imperial Dynasty of Mephius, Gil Mephius—the pilots hurriedly launched off to the skies in their ships once more.

“You don’t have to be so snappy, do you? I think they’re doing on the better side.”

Orba roughly shook off Shique who came snuggling onto his shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter how well they do for ‘slaves’. You think I can be satisfied with such a level?”

The parade ground near the Imperial Guards’ barracks, a small-scale gladiator arena was rebuilt. Small as it may be called, its extensive interior housed an airship runway and to add, was situated beside the dragons’ stable.

“But you know, Orba,” the bronzen faced Gowen spoke, “it’s not even been a month since you started the airship unit. There’s not much you can do even if you’re running out of patience.”

“I wouldn’t have expected to hear that from you. You’re the one who sent me out to kill in under two weeks of teaching me how to hold a sword.”

“There’s no meaning in using slaves as a comparison, is there?” Gowen replied, directing Orba’s words back at him. “There are different circumstances now compared to then. You can’t buy however much of them as you want.”

Even if these former slaves didn’t fall behind soldiers in terms of individual skill, they had trouble cooperating in numbers. And it was because it was Gowen, who was retraining the infantry comprising of the swords slaves from scratch, saying this that these words held persuasive power.

Orba said no more. His face twisted slightly in pain as he moved to cross his arms. His right arm was dressed in bandages and stood hanging.

—Roughly half a month had passed since the disturbance caused by Zaat Quark’s rebellion. Injured from the series of battles during the gladiator’s tournament and to further add, being shot by Zaat Quark, his body naturally had yet to recover. However one week prior, Orba was summoned by the emperor and ordered to head for the southern city of Apta—the land taken in the ten year strife with Garbera and the very fortress city his brother Roan had been drafted to. There was no time for him to allow his body to rest. Just when Shique and Gowen thought he was holing himself up in his room buried under a mountain of books, they’d find him zealously directing the Imperial Guard’s training like so.

“Ah, there you go, quiet again.” Shique shrugged his shoulders in jest. “We get indescribably uneasy when you turn silent. I can’t help thinking that you might be getting weird thoughts again.”

At that time, a lively voice sounded.

“A wonderful sight, isn’t it!”

When he heard this voice which was out of place in this brutish location, Orba’s face tensed for some reason.

Gowen and Shique were slightly amused at seeing this and shifted their gaze taking a smile.

“It pains me to say that it is not anything much for a proper lady to see.”

The one they laid sight on was Garbera’s third princess, Vileena Owell, accompanied by her maid Theresia. Her platinum hair shone a transparent white under the morning sun. She had been forced into the women’s chambers since her coming to Mephius, but with her efforts flying the airship together with the prince during Zaat’s rebellion, she seemed to have been given a relative amount of freedom as of late. Two days ago after mentioning how the Imperial Guards were doing air training at breakfast, she had exclaimed ‘I simply must watch’.

The young girl’s eyes squinted as they followed the airships’ movements, and her cheeks flushed lightly.

''She’s an unusual princess.''

Orba strongly reaffirmed this thought.

After the mission at Apta ended, they would formally become married—as Emperor Guhl had declared, but that was ultimately only said to Gil and not openly announced. With the progress in discussions over the wedding obscure, Vileena was as she had always been, in an insecure position.

“His Highness is a perfectionist after all,” Shique commented, intentionally returning to the previous conversation. “He tells them ‘fly shoulder to shoulder with the Garberan airship platoon’ within under a month of training.”

“I didn’t—”

—say that, he tried to refute, but before he could continue...

“There is always a beginning to everything. Air training in particular comes with accidents. If you do not pay careful attention to the pilots’ condition, the ship’s maintenance and such, then your platoon will assuredly be destroyed before you can achieve its desired growth, your Highness.”

With regard to airships, Vileena was an expert. She spoke proudly in a sharp tone with her childish face.

“But there also isn’t much time left until departure.”

Orba averted his gaze from Vileena who tried to confront him directly.

“Is it not all right if you also perform them in Apta, your Highness?” Shique said. “It’s as if you believe, Ax might try to commence war the very day we arrive in Apta.”

Zaat’s rebellion had been quelled by Orba’s hand, but because it happened during the founding festival where a good number of envoys had been invited, news of it reached the surrounding countries. Furthermore, there were reports of suspicious activity from the Taúlia province located southwest to Mephius around the same time.

Taúlia bordered the Aptan region. It was probable, Taúlia’s governing general, Ax Bazgan, would target the moment Apta was returned by Garbera and advance his army there.

However, with Zaat’s rebellion, Guhl Mephius was in a precarious situation where he could not trust his retainers, even those serving him longest. For that reason, Guhl had appointed his born son, Gil, to be the commander of Apta’s troops, deeming it inappropriate to divide his troops to fend off invasion.

“It’ll only be trouble if I don’t get them ready as soon as possible. I’ve realised since Zaat’s incident. No matter how peacefully we may have joined with Garbera, the flames of dissent are always at our feet even within our country’s borders. There’s no harm in being too prepared.”

“Speaking of Zaat Quark, I have not seen Ineli since the incident. Have you met with her since then, prince?”

“Ineli?”

The unexpected name left Orba half startled. “No.” He shook his head. Vileena angrily knit her eyebrows.

“Please also pay some attention to things outside of military affairs. Being taken prisoner by Zaat surely must have given her a fright. Is she not shutting herself in her room? I have been meaning to visit her, but what say you we go together?”

“Well, that is…”

Orba wasn’t sure what to say. As Vileena had mentioned, Ineli was taken prisoner by Zaat in the midst of the uproar. And in front Orba and Vileena who went to save her, she had a gun thrust at her. But what went through Orba’s mind now wasn’t that, but the scene he had seen at the party during the founding festival; the one where Ineli and Vileena glared at one another by the fountain.

The Garberan princess seemed to have already long forgotten their discord, but as for Ineli, he didn’t believe she would be as forgiving. Rather, judging from her personality, being saved by the Vileena she hated and so detested, she would have felt it humiliating.

“I think it’s best if you don’t.”

“Why do you say so?”

“Well, the thing is, if she’s received a shock from that incident, it’s best to gently leave it alone. If either I or the princess go see her, it might bring back the memories and do more harm than good.”

“See, princess? It’s as I told you.” Theresia said. “I am of the same opinion of as His Highness. It’s best to quietly leave Ineli alone precisely if you’re worried about her.”

“What is this. The prince, and Theresia as well, are treating my feelings as if they were an oblivious child’s.”

Her face quickly fell into a sulk and she stomped her small feet against the ground. In fact, it was because it was exactly as she said that Orba was lost for words. She was overall a quick-witted princess albeit young, but when it came to the subtleties in personal relations, she was poorly informed.

Orba unintentionally sent a look over to Theresia.

''It must be tough.''

The princess’ maid was momentarily surprised, then slightly turned her eyes down and chuckled in agreement.

''Damn it!''

Orba was also surprised. He had expressed his sentiments towards Theresia, but it was as ‘Orba’. Not the crown prince. That was probably why Theresia had also been surprised.

“Now,” Orba spoke up in an attempt to try to smooth things over. “I will, then, patiently wait out the airship unit’s results. I, am going to check out the dragon’s situ—”

Orba turned to look at the dragon’s stable by the parade ground, but right at that moment, he saw several figures heading this way. In front, skipping her way towards them, was a petite girl. Coming up to Orba, Lannie Lorgo stopped and tugging her skirt, made a bow.

“Fare greetings, your Imperial Highness.”

“Aah.”

She was daughter of Mephius’ general, Odyne Lorgo, and thirteen years old. Though a young girl, she had saddled on top a dragon’s back during the founding festival and carried out the coming-of-age ceremony.

“Hurry and come over. Oh Romus, even though you’re not afraid of dragons, you’re helplessly shy around people.”

She loudly called over the young boy timidly toddling behind. As always, his greetings in front of the prince were soft.

“Really, you’re spineless.”

“No, it’s not that he’s spineless, but that milady here is strong,” Orba jested. “Your courage is promising. However, the dragons’ stable isn’t suitable as a playground.”

“Oh my. It’s not that we are strolling around here for no apparent reason, prince,” Lannie responded disapprovingly in a lady-like manner. “Romus has been coming here everyday and as his senior I’ve gotten concerned for him.”

“Oh? Is Romus aspiring to be a dragoon?”

“He is not, your highness. Romus, you’re really here for the dragon, aren’t you? It’s not that you’re longing to become a dragoon, right?”

“W-what’s that to do with you.”

Romus’ face reddened. There was one other coming from the dragon stable’s direction. The dragon trainer Hou Ran was assigned as part of the prince’s Imperial Battalion. It seemed she was looking over the dragoon’s training. Even if she wasn’t, she was usually here at the stable caring for the dragons all day.

“There’s no need to worry about Romus.”

Ran said outright, as if she had heard the conversation from start to end.

“He’s gotten even more used to dragons than Orba. In another half year, he might be able to hear and understand their ‘voice’. There’s little to no chance he will get attacked even at the dragon’s stable.”

Theresia breathed a gasp of wonder. She found not only Ran’s nomadic appearance unusual, but also the combination of her proportional body, dark skin, and pale hair to be strangely alluring.

“If that’s what you say, I’m sure that’s how it is. How is the dragoons’ condition? And have you sorted the dragons we will take with us to Apta?”

“I can somehow manage if I’m with them. As long as they’re within my eye’s reach. No one here has even a fragment of Romus’ talent. More than sorting the dragons Orba will need to sort the soldiers.”

“R-Right.”

“Also, aren’t the dragons we’re bring with us a bit too many to not be using the carrier? With the numbers Orba’s said, it’s more than I can manage.”

“Not using the carrier?”

Shique raised his voice in alarm.

“Why? Marching to Apta in file will take a week. Transporting the dragons and weapons would also be more convenient with a carrier.”

“Because I want to be seen off and cheered by the people.”

Orba’s response was blunt. It was times like these his behaviour denoted a reluctance to voice his thoughts any further. Because Shique and Gowen understood this, they made no further protest, bearing a look that said ''here we go again.''

“''Orba'', is it.”

But Princess Vileena’s attention seemed to be hung on something else. The thought “oh crap” could be read on the prince’s face.

“A considerable amount of trust sure is placed on that swordsman. It was also the case at the founding festival, but it seems he has been tasked with several important duties this time as well.”

“Ah, yeah. He’s...handy.”

Orba gibbered, stealthily sneaking a glare at Ran’s direction. Vileena became slightly indignant.

“However, he appeared to have been injured a good deal from the arena. Although, you yourself have also suffered injuries, how about you heed your subjects a bit more.”

“Uh, yeah, you’re right.”

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v03 031.jpg|thumb]]

“Despite how strong a person you yourself may be, that is not always the case for others. Above all, prince, your numbers mustn’t diminish anymore. If you don’t allow them a word and only have them quietly obey you, no matter how fine a swordsman Orba is, even he will eventually...”

“Ha!”

At that moment, Ran snorted. For an instant, everyone was bewildered by the almost outright scorn. Who this was directed towards they did not know.

“Orba seems to be rather favoured by the princess.”

Her lips swerved into a thin, open smile, and then she turned her back, promptly returning to the dragon’s housing. Romus hurriedly chased after her, and Lannie subsequently followed in a dash. Orba and everyone else saw them off, stupefied.

“That young lady,” Theresia spoke shortly after adding in a cough, “isn’t she somewhat lacking in her manners? To act like that when the crown prince and Princess Vileena are present...”

“Ah. I’m truly ashamed. I apologize on behalf of my daughter’s discourtesy.”

The adopted father Gowen lowered his greying head. It was Orba’s first time seeing him bow down his large frame.

But Theresia also wasn’t truly angry. As evidence of that,

“That young lady,” she said once more, leaving a pause as if add weight, “Is she Sir Orba’s lover?”

“A-Absurd. —Why would you think that?”

“It is no such thing as absurd. I only felt that was how it was.”

“And I’m asking, why?”

“Now why, I wonder. I instead find the prince’s manner of disarray strangely odd. This might even be a harbinger of love for Sir Orba.”

Absurd! Orba muttered once more, facing away. He had known Hou Ran for over two years, but never noticed any attraction towards her. It might have been ''because'' he hadn’t, or that he ''shouldn’t'' have had any, that having this suddenly pointed out disturbed him.

For some time after, Orba and the others inattentively watched over the airship unit’s training. Shortly before the hour of noon, Vileena excused herself and Theresia from the platform. The princess would also be accompanying them to Apta. They had said there was still packing to be done.

When Orba finally thought he could take a breath of air, he overheard some unexpected words from Shique.

“The princess isn’t in too high of spirits is she.”

“Really? I don’t see any big difference from usual. If that’s her in low spirits, then the usual Vileena will be a far tougher opponent than Ryucown and Pashir.”

“Orba...right, you don’t understand the subtleties of women.”

“Does a misogynist have any right to say that?”

“It’s not that I hate them because I don’t understand them. It’s because I understand them too much that I hate them.”

Back in the days when he was a gladiator, Shique was exceptionally popular with women. There were many noblewomen piling up large sums of gold before the slave merchant Tarkas to be his patron. And to each and every one of them, Shique refused and snorted at them.

“Then again, it isn’t really that complicated. She probably knows about the rumours of ongoing tension between Garbera and Ende. Of course, she’s not a princess that wouldn’t grieve knowing of her home’s hardships.”

“It’s hard to say Garbera has fully recovered from Ryucown’s previous rebellion,” Gowen agreed. “It’s the same for Mephius, but at the least, we were able to stop it before it occurred. To others, you could even say it’s been put out. But they experienced betrayal from one of their most famed generals. It’s certain to have a lasting effect.”

“I could care less about other countries’ troubles,” Orba promptly parted the remark. He then called captain Neil back, bringing the training to an end. A separate unit was scheduled for training hereafter. With Pashir included, they consisted of the slaves from the recent rebellion whom Orba had added to his forces. Having once taken advantage of the opportunity provided by Zaat and attempting a rebellion, he could not just appoint them as regular soldiers and thus had designated them war slaves under the Imperial Guard’s command.

Orba had no business here. He had already earned the resentment of the slaves by having obstructed the rebellion and had no intention of possibly aggravating them further by remaining to watch.

On this note, he entrusted their training to Gowen. A man originally a supervisor over sword slaves and versed in drills.

“I’ll leave the rest to you.”

“Aah.”

Orba double-timed out of the parade ground.

Shique, who had stayed behind, took notice of Gowen’s sudden masked snicker.

“What’s the matter?”

“No, it’s just how he said ‘I’ll leave the rest to you.’ That damn little squirt’s position has sure changed in under two years.”

“And he’s gotten frightfully used to it too.”

“The weird one isn’t only him, but me who’s also grown used to these positions.”

“Yeah.” Shique strangely broke into a grin. “I’m no longer surprised by anything he says or does. If I don’t get used to that, it’ll only ruin my health.”

As Shique gave his agreement with a smile, Gowen watched Orba’s retreating figure in the distance.

“It would be good if it was only a problem of getting used to. Lately, he’s been devoting himself too much to being the crown prince.”

That single phrase, heard by no one, disappeared into the blowing sand and wind.

Solon saw the coming of noon.

===Part 2===
‘Emperor Guhl Mephius has stopped smiling.’ Orba had lost count how many times he had heard these murmurings inside the palace.

The former emperor often joked in front of his retainers and filled the halls with his jovial voice—he’d heard. Orba himself had only met him a handful of times since pretending to be his actual son, so he didn’t know of this ‘former’ emperor.

Most notably, the emperor didn’t so much as chuckle after Zaat’s rebellion. His lips swerved into frowns, and he constantly rested his face against his hands in ill humour.

''I get chills every time he looks at me.''

These whispers he had also heard countlessly.

The emperor worked endlessly towards increasing the imperial family’s—or more precisely, the emperor’s—authority.

“There is no longer anyone who can make a single objection to His Majesty.”

Fedom had muttered shortly before with a near trembling face.

“If these were vassals such as Colyne satisfied with readily following orders, that might be good in itself...however, for prideful nobles like myself who harbour the slightest thought for Mephius’ future, should even that pride be considered a nuisance that we may be dismissed by the emperor, we might as well be dead.”

''There’s Simon Rodloom.''

Orba first conjured that name. At the time of the festival when Orba joined the emperor for breakfast, he had stated his own opinions without fear of the emperor. Whatmore, it was directly after Zaat had been confined.

''If it’s that man, wouldn’t he fearlessly oppose the emperor without thought of personal gain or self-protection when necessary?''

''Hm?—''

Orba twisted his lips, taken by these mysterious thoughts. He would have never believed himself to recognise a Mephian noble even a little bit as a person back when he was a gladiator.

Currently, directly in front of Orba, his head bowed continuing his prayers with his eyes fixed on no particular point, was that very emperor, Guhl Mephius.

At the Black Tower, centre of the imperial capital of Solon.

The soldiers assigned as lookouts recognised Orba and gave a bow. They were his guide and proceeded towards the tower’s underground. They passed by numerous people. They were half bare men carrying excavated rocks and rubble. Most were slaves or criminals.

In this underground was a certain Dragon God Mausoleum, currently in the midst of construction. While the Dragon God’s Temple was being built in a location closer to the palace, the entirety of the mausoleum would be transferred here.

The emperor was ahead at their place of destination. He stood before an enormous carving depicting the Dragon God’s form. This was the place they held the rituals to pray for abundant harvests directly before the festival had begun. This painting would also eventually be carved out and be established within the temple.

Orba politely gave words of greeting, but the emperor replied with only a grunt and nod, and occupied himself in issuing orders to the surrounding people.

He waited for a time—a long time.

Ten minutes must have passed, when the emperor stepped forth from the row of people. Orba once again lowered his head.

“I will set out the day after tomorrow.”

“I see.”

The emperor passed by him showing no signs of stopping, but then suddenly halted and peered into Orba’s face.

“You’re growing more and more to resemble your mother.”

“Ha, hahah. I-Is that so?”

Even the famed gladiator found himself dripping in cold sweat. Then the emperor resumed walking again and Orba followed behind.

“It is not only your face. There are many who say you’ve changed into a different person, and it’s them following with such compliments as saying you’ve inherited my blood that irks me so.”

“I only received advice from my men.”

Behind and in front of them were Imperial Guards directly under the emperor assigned guard, but they kept their distance. Within the naturally chilly cave workings, the surroundings fell into an eerie silence as the voices and figures of the slaves grew further.

“Was that also the same with regards to Zaat? You happened to get advice from someone? Surely it wasn’t from me. I wasn’t given a single notice.”

“Yes. N-no, I mean—the one who planned it was me. Only, I was somewhat uneasy over my own thoughts and went to Fedom to receive his wisdom. However, I had consulted him without mentioning Zaat’s name, nor informing him of the situation’s urgency, merely as an assumption,” Orba quickly replied.

“And whose suggestion was it to purposely aim at the time of Zaat’s rebellion? Had I been immediately notified, I could have quietly subdued Zaat without the ambassadors and guests from abroad noticing.”

The emperor stopped walking. There was no path ahead, only a cliff looming 50 metres tall. The dim light of a single candle placed on the walls flickered over the shadow cast on the emperor’s face.

“I do not plan to excuse myself for my actions. I wanted...an accomplishment that would make me be recognized by many. I didn’t consider the lives of the soldiers and ambassadors—It was thoughtless of me. I beg your forgiveness.”

“That’s wrong, isn’t it?”

The emperor flatly concluded. He refaced Orba, who took a deep gulp.

“No, it ''is'' wrong. You don’t trust in ''me''.”

“I-I wouldn’t—”

“You only wanted an accomplishment? If there is a part of you that has changed, it’s how you would even dare mouth such as insolent excuse towards me above all.”

The recesses of his eyes reflected the colour of the flames and seemed to wrap around his body and soul like a snake. Orba said nothing, only shamefully lowering his head.”

“I see. So a dragon’s child is a dragon. For we imperials who succeed the blood of the Dragon God Mephius, it may be that even you cannot forever stay a dragonling.”

The word’s echo held neither conceit nor scorn. The emperor walked towards Orba who continued facing down.

“However, it seems you take much more strongly after your mother than I. It’s not only your face but your character. In the end, you stray from the Mephius imperial customs and are unable to open your heart to me; you’ve inherited that frail trait.”

After gazing into his face one last time, he passed his shoulder.

“Very well. If you’ve begun to sprout a dragon’s wings, then I’ll have you match up to that expectation and keep Ax Bazgan in place. After two weeks, Oubary’s forces shall join yours. If it’s to protect the fortress alone, those forces should be more than sufficient.”

''Oubary.''

At that moment, a single hot flame lit within Orba’s chilled heart.

Amongst the forces Orba was bringing to Apta, there would also be fifty men borrowed from Oubary’s Black Helmet Division. Oubary himself would be dispatched to the southeastern parts of Mephius along with his 500 men. Several days after Zaat’s rebellion, slaves revolted in the southeastern Kiluro, and he had been tasked with suppressing them.

During the uproar at the Grand Stadium, Oubary had disappeared quite quickly, resulting in doubts and animosity from the emperor and statesmen. It had, therefore, become hard for him to stay in Solon and he also likely wanted to use this to wipe clean his bad name.

“Use them as you please. You may wield your powers as commander to your heart’s content. In return, I won’t have any complaint no matter the circumstance. Either way, you consider me beneath your notice. Any worry would be meaningless.”

The emperor receded away from Orba into the distance along with his ringing echo, this time it being rich in ridicule. Orba breathed a sigh of relief, grateful he had somehow managed to end this without his identity being exposed. At the same time, an unfamiliar feeling passed him.

''Are fathers...''

''Are all fathers meant to be like this? That they hate and deplore their own sons—or is it because they are nobles that they’re so strange.''

Orba held no memories of his father. However, he did know the faces of everyone in his home village. There was a mountain of adults that looked after him like a father. There were those who severely scolded his troublemaker self, and then also those who laughed, telling him how they were also the same in the past. Back during those days, Orba thought they were all annoying, but now having lost even that, he found the memories even a little nostalgic.

“Father.”

Urged by the heated flame lit within him, Orba suddenly called out to the emperor.

“What?”

Turning around, his face displayed a candid annoyance. Orba slowly raised his downturned eyes.

“If I may ‘use them as I please’, then I take it you don’t mind if I use those forces to take Ax’s head.”

“What?”

“And on the break of that dawn that I may also have the fortress city Taúlia Ax occupies.”

A still, heavy silence weighed on Orba’s shoulders.

Some tens of seconds later,

“You nitwit!”

The emperor shouted as loud as permitted him. And then he burst into a welling laughter.

“You nitwit, I said you could do as you pleased. Go ahead! I’d like to see this dunce of a dragonling that can barely flap his wings try!”

Because of standing rumours that the emperor had stopped smiling, even the distant imperial soldiers had come running in surprise at the sound of his bursting laughter. Stopping them with the rise of his hand, the emperor gave a further sneer and departed.

In the little remaining time before his departure, Orba was drowned in the flood of documents, books, and papers delivered to his room.

These documents listed the names of the commanding officers and captains amongst the soldiers accompanying him. Amongst the members of the Black Helmet Division was Bane’s name. He was someone Orba had incidentally requested when speaking with the assistant commander of the Black Helmet Division over the party’s formation. At that time, the date for Oubary’s main forces to set out was also drawing near, and any conflicting opinions being a waste of time may have been why it was easily agreed to.

In terms of ability, Bane was nothing much. Over the course of six years, his position had stopped at captain, meaning he most likely earned barely any achievements in the ten year war. But for Orba, there was a reason for his irrepressible want for him.

And amongst the war slaves, Pashir’s name was of course present. In the days following the founding festival’s ‘Clovis’ Dragon Extermination’ Orba had not met him once, but according to Gowen’s testimony, he was obediently undergoing practice and drills at the time being. Also present, as the war slaves’ steward, was the name of Mira, who’d also attended the sword slaves at Solon’s grand stadium.

The rest he roughly glanced over. At the end of the list were the names of aspiring applicants that either wanted to join Orba’s forces or take on administrative roles in Apta. The majority were of noble descent; names of poor nobles or late sons of prestiged houses.

“Even though they’re the same nobles, they seem to each have their own circumstances.”

The chamberlain, Dinn, brought over a fresh batch of books to him.

“My arms are already swollen.” The boy winced from looking at the mountain of books stacked high in the room.

“Don’t tell me you plan on training even me and sending me out to the battlefield.”

“You said it.” 

Orba took a newly delivered book into his hand and flipped through its pages. It contained mostly the histories of countries neighbouring Mephius and compiled summaries of their current state and situation.

After what happened with Noue and Zaat, Orba fully realised he had absolutely no knowledge on these matters. Information was crucial in battles. He had experienced this first hand in his childhood days, and since then Orba always wanted to gather as much information on hand as possible. Of course, storing up information alone wasn’t enough, but having information provided from others’ thoughts and perspectives would affect the very breadth of his thinking.

“What about ''that''? There’s little of the vital information.”

“Do you mean of the current state of Taúlia and the western provinces? I’ve also been looking for them in as many ways as possible. What currently exist are only second hand copies based on a few books originating from countries to the northern coast. I admit even these books are outdated.”

“Why?”

“Mephian trade with the western world—in other words, the Tauran provinces—is banned. The former Zer Tauran was a country raised by the Bazgans, once Mephian vassals. Even now after Zer Tauran’s collapse, the Bazgan House continues to skirmish with us, and the other provinces are also ruled by Zer Tauran's successors.”

“But even then...no, it’s for this reason that he should at least send tens or even a hundred spies over.”

“Please say that directly to His Majesty. I have nothing to do with it.”

“If speaking directly with him would have had any effect, I would’ve learned everything I needed to from the start.”

Orba further flipped through the pages.

''Strange.''

Feeling an inconsistency, he stopped his hands.

It wasn’t about how the emperor hadn’t handed him information on the west.

“Trade with the west is banned? How many years ago was this?”

“More than years, it should be decades, or even over a century. I don’t believe we ever signed a ceasefire or peace treaty since the Zer Tauran days.”

“Reeaalllyy.”

Closing the book, Orba stretched his legs over the table. “Here you go again,” Dinn reprimanded but Orba did not budge. Once he started thinking, he would not break from the forest of thoughts until he came up with his own solution.

Dinn had grown used to it.

“Come along now, prince. Before you turn silent from your thoughts, please state what foods you would prefer. The palace master chef should take even more time, and I’ll have you know I won’t take ‘Anything’s fine’ for an answer!”

Dinn could do nothing but perform his own duties to his best.

===Part 3===
The Solon west gates bustled with crowds coming to see off Prince Gil and his troops.

The group of cavaliers moving headfirst waved their spearflags while responding to the people’s cheers with waves of their hands.

Amongst those selected within the Imperial Guards was Shique. With vexingly good looks for a man, the refreshing figure of him mounted on his horse had particularly fanned the women and children’s heated cries.

As the dragoons under Oubary and the artillerymen under Odyne Lorgo went, the carriage carrying Princess Vileena came into sight along with the clattering sounds of its wheels. The joyous cheers as Vileena smiled and waved her hands out the window were noticeably high.

And as a new group of horsemen appeared behind as if guarding her rear, the streets were filled with a series of stirs different from previous ones.

Saddled on his gallant white horse, was Mephius’ crown prince Gil Mephius. His silver armour lavishly reflected the sun’s rays as if emitting a powerful radiance. And contrastively to his side was a black horse. Mounted was the iron masked gladiator. The pair was sent a frenzied applause.

“Gil-sama!”

“Prinncccee!”

“Look, it’s the ‘Clovis’, Orba!”

The combination of the young prince who rescued the country from a rebellion and his faithful masked warrior was a story worth passing down and heightened their popularity amongst the people.

Gil had limited himself to releasing one hand from the reins and lightly raising it, but Orba, probably unable to withstand the storm of cheers, wildly waved both arms, and suddenly stood straight up with both feet on the stirrup while having his horse do a light jump. Because the response was tremendous, he got carried away and did it multiple times, and in the end was nearly about to slip off the stirrup and fall.

“You idiot!” The mounted Gil—of course, this was the real Orba—shouted at him with a flushed face. “Behave yourself.”

The scolded Orba—the Imperial Guard Kain, who could also be said to be Orba’s body double—dejectedly dropped his shoulders. The cheers completely turned into a downpour of laughter.

“Well, I guess this could also be a form of extravagant publicity as we set out.”

Above the ramparts enclosing the gates was also the figure of Fedom Aulin.

He was the lord of Birac, but ever since he had disguised Orba as the prince, he had yet to return to his land even once. Although his family had also come to Solon for the festival, even when it was time for his wife and children to go back, he had insisted on staying in Solon, saying ‘I still have work to be done’.

“The prince has raised his name from his campaign against Ryucown and the incident with Zaat.” A tall young man, who at a glance appeared to be a boarder, whispered to him from beside. “This trend will make a good impetus for the people. It also denotes the continuation of the imperial family’s dignity.”

“Hmph—There are other ways if they care about their dignity. Look at those troops. They appear to be keeping their interval, but in the end, they’re a poorly patched bunch. Former sword slaves acting as imperial guards, war slaves that had only recently attempted rebellion, and a mere hundred nominated soldiers; if an army from Taúlia truly marched in at full might, forget a month, it’s unlikely they’d even last three days.”

Fedom did not see eye to eye with the rumours regarding Ax Bazgan’s suspicious movements. If Emperor Guhl was fully certain that Ax would come attack Apta then he would have reinforced the army a bit more.

''I can’t imagine he would let him die this openly without batting an eye.''

Fedom bitterly clicked his tongue as he heard the yet unceasing cheers towards Prince Gil. What set him impatient now most above all was the piece of news that claimed Guhl’s second wife Melissa was pregnant. It was no more than a rumour whispered within the palace, but if it were to be true, then he would change his stance on how he viewed this treatment towards the prince.

''Curse you, Guhl. Do you intend to distance the prince who has gained a rise in popularity from the centre of politics?''

He was irritated. Fedom Aulin was the perpetrator who had concealed the death of the actual Gil Mephius and set up the former gladiator Orba as a substitute. Of course, this was a large crime that if discovered would sentence his entire family and all those serving him to death. He continued his days coming off nights of insufficient sleep rushed by an impatience to get things done even a day sooner.

However, because Fedom originally took the stance of the anti-imperial faction, he required a different faction that would support the prince. He would have to gather those discontented towards the current emperor and ''not'' towards the very system of imperials, and who dreamed of advancement through a new order established under Prince Gil—a strengthened rectification of the country’s foundation, so to speak—if he did not want to end up like Ryucown who invested his life into a futureless rebellion.

Now, when things were finally beginning to take shape after discreetly taking ventures, and on a few occasions with ones dire enough to chill him down to his marrow, that Prince Gil was to be sent far off to the outlands that was also as well the country’s borders.

Naturally, he was not going to give up from this. In Fedom’s eyes, it might even be a good thing if a battle occurred at Apta once. Were the emperor to hesitate sending reinforcements during the prince’s crisis, then that would serve a common cause that might make it possible to remove the emperor from his seat.

''The two weeks before Oubary’s forces join them will be the determiner, will it.''

Then Fedom’s concern was on Orba who was more than likely to go off acting on his own and completely disregard his distresses. Then again, there ''was'' the difference in strength of forces and to add, his own forces were a cobbled together band that he could scarcely hope to take command of, so he shouldn’t really be able to move about as he pleased.

“Still—that rascal, he parted with some strange words.”

Directly before he departed, Orba had made Fedom an odd request. His troops would continue moving towards Apta by foot, it seemed. ‘I’d like you to let our flagship Doom temporarily anchor in Birac,’ Orba said.

“I’ll also leave a few winged dragon officers along with it. You can just leave the ship as is. They’ll move the ship when I’ll need it.”

“Why would you again do something so tedious?”

“It’s the thing called preparation. Don’t worry, just because you won’t be there doesn’t mean I’ll stop being his body double. The real prince should be remaining in Solon either way. I don’t know who’s targeting him, but you might as well look after him.”

“You seem to have grown quite fond of this game of war, prince.”

Fedom was busy carrying out his own plans.

“Be sure not to let your schemes get the better of you. If all you’re going to do is fortify the fortress’ defences, I won’t say a word. But just you try running rampant with your arbitrary actions and exceeding my patience. At that time...”

“I get it, Lord Fedom Aulin.”

Orba smiled lightly. Fedom had, to be honest, felt a shudder from that smile.

''He resembles him,'' he had thought.

Not the real Gil Mephius. Instead, that moment Fedom felt him the splitting image of the father, Guhl Mephius, despite his appearance being entirely the same as Gil.

Before long the troops exited the gate and the cheers gradually came to a halt.

Fedom also began to leave and quickly called out to the young man who stood at the same spot as him.

“What’s wrong, Hermann. Is there something you’re uneasy about?”

The magician servant gently turned his head.

The man’s face was expressionless, and Fedom had long been unable to read him. Though there were times he appeared a young man, depending on the angle of lighting, there were times he appeared to far exceed Fedom in age. Fedom perked his fleshy shoulders.

“We also have a mountain of preparations to do. Many of them will require your insight. For the time being, I won’t forgive you going off on your own.”

“I do understand, milord.”

Hermann lightly nodded, but, as he was about to make his leave, he cast his glance once more across the walls towards the road the prince and his troops departed on.

''“Hmm.”''

He murmured in a small voice inaudible to even Fedom.

''“‘His’ fate is certainly to move largely riding the ‘gale’. That speed is faster than my eyes can grasp.”''

''But—Oh my.''

''How strange. The ‘gale’ is certainly blowing and I can unmistakably see its direction. But the destination of the crucial ‘he’—this single future step, is darkly shut. What could this possibly—?''

In this time of the year, Solon’s skies were clear. The untempered sunlight shone on the prince and his party’s armour and the resulting row of bending lights faded into the distance. Not too long after, they could no longer be seen from even the tallest of Solon’s towers.

“Have they gone?”

As for Emperor Guhl, he had not even gone to see them off and spent the entire time in his personal room performing various miscellaneous tasks.

“Yes.”

The one responding was the former council president, Simon Rodloom.

“The prince is certainly in high spirits. He has unmistakably put his all in adorning his men in uniform.”

“He’s still a child, that one.”

“I quite enjoy it. Rather, it is by outstripping those childish traits one by one that he can steadily climb the steps towards adulthood.”

“You are patient,” the emperor grunted. ”In politics and in parenting both. What will you do about the problem of Rodloom house’s successor?”

“Well,”

Simon smiled bashfully.

He had two daughters; both of which were already married. Normally one would have entered one of the two husbands into the family register, but Simon had yet to decide. He had no particular qualms about their pedigree or personality but…

“I’m afraid if I rush the decision, I’ll grow old all at once.”

“How like you, Simon.”

The emperor nodded in assent without so much a laugh.

''Is His Majesty tired?''

Sometimes his emotions were fierce, such that they were as glaring as the Dragon God’s vigour, and just as frequently, sometimes his responses were like a completely withered flame.

“Two days back, if I remember correctly,” the emperor spoke, taking the chance to close his eyes, “Princess Vileena petitioned for an audience. What reason do you think for?”

“What could it be?...The case between Ende and Garbera, perhaps?”

“That may be. However, she did not touch on it with a single word and expressed her intent to give a farewell greeting. At the end, she declared, ‘In the near future, my fathers will number two. May you watch over your health.’”

''—''

In the situation something were to happen to Garbera, how would the allied Mephius move? Thoughts within the imperial court in regards to that were quite varied. As for Vileena, she had likely said it with the implied meaning ‘should that time come I pray you will come to Garbera’s aid’.

“A princess, brave and able to take action. Thoughts wishing Gil had even a fragment of her capacity have also crossed my mind.”

“Your Majesty...”

“I will admit that Gil has grown in his own way. However, he cannot hope to carry the burden of the country as he is. To be a ruler is to sometimes see black as white; to listen to all things but also to not show hesitation against dissent; to speak one’s own words from the very start.”

“There is no one who can lead from the start. Not even the greatest of monarchs and heroes written down in history. I’m afraid to say, Your Majesty, it is not that I am patient, but that you are impatient.”

“I may not have been a good father. I shall also admit to that.”

The emperor said as if to put an end their conversation, perhaps finding it to have taken an unpleasant turn.

There was a mountain of things Simon wanted to discuss with the emperor that needed to be said directly. The case of the Dragon God Shrine was also one of them. But he realised that what stood before him was like a heavy leaden wall, that no matter what words he tried to put forth, they would only rebound.

''Can you no longer believe in anyone, Guhl?''

He called out to his old friend internally.

''I see, to be a ruler is to live in solitude.'' As Simon looked along the deep wrinkles, so deep almost as if someone carved them into him, and his whitened hair and beard, he saw an aged emperor weary from a long period of solitude, but who was at the same time very stubborn and refusing to separate from his chair.

''It might be that he’s afraid.''

The flash of realisation suddenly hit him. This owed to the emperor’s current appearance, face down and attentively cleaning up the paperwork, being comparable to that of a small, frail old man.

''Afraid of himself who has stopped being an emperor, and his own son who he has stopped loving, be he fool or not. Or perhaps—''

There was no way Simon Rodloom could not be familiar with the fatigue of someone having engaged in the country’s politics for a long time. Simon believed this may have been a premonition of things to come.

''Rule mustn’t continue to be entrusted to the hands of the weary. Old blood must eventually be replaced by new blood. Should that time be mistaken, the country will be eaten away by disease from within and before long, perish.''

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| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume3_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume3_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Tabi ni Deyou:Dream

2017-09-28T15:06:47Z

Yasharjitm10:

"...So? Can you fix it?"

A girl stood over a boy with a wrench in his hand. In reply, he moaned with a face that suggested a week of constipation.

"I've been trying for four days now, but as things stand, we might not reach the next town before I get this done."

"That's not what I wanted to hear! The next town is still miles away."

With a dry laugh, the girl sat down on a bench. The dry wood, cracked by the persistently shining sun, pricked her exposed legs, but at the moment her fatigue overcame the discomfort. She was wearing a typical school uniform blazer, but because of the heat, she had taken off her jacket and was fanning herself with her hand.

"Maybe you're just not cut out for fixing things, boy. You're not going to get any praise for having pushed a broken motorcycle 140 miles, you know?"

"''Please'' stop bugging me about it. We're always moving, so I don't have the time to do extensive repairs."

The boy who had been addressed as "boy" tapped his stiff shoulders with the wrench. He was wearing the same uniform as the girl, though of course the boys' version. He had taken off his jacket and necktie, and had unbuttoned his collar as well.

True, there was a limit to the repairs he was able to perform. For their journey, they had bodged a pillion seat on to their originally one-person Super Cub and loaded it with things like food, clothes, gasoline, and water. Two people's luggage meant there was little space left for much in the way of tools.

Bolts and nuts constituted the sum of their parts stock, along with oil and a spark plug. Considering that their tools consisted of just spanner and hex keys and a folding Gerber Knife, a proper repair was beyond even their dreams.

"Maybe we should just trash it..." he suggested.

"Don't be silly. Do you plan on carrying all this luggage on your back?"

"Ngh." The boy was nonplussed after his unrealistic suggestion was shut down. "Then could you at least help me push it, girl?"

"No way." The girl who he had called "girl" glared at him. "What do you think you're doing, trying to make a lady like me do heavy labor? You even fail at humor."

"Heh, a track and field girl is calling herself a lady? You're probably more muscular than I am."

Her response was a kick in his side.

''I guess the lady didn't appreciate the joke. Ouch.''

"I guess we'll camp here tonight. At least it's better than pitching a tent in the middle of the road, right?"

"Mmm, Can't argue with that."

They were stopped at a rest area that had been established for nearby farmers. It was only a toilet, a water supply, and some benches among a handful of trees, but it was just what the two of them needed. In areas like this where there is nothing other than a long road and endless meadows, rest areas are more valuable than anything else. Just try sleeping on an asphalt road once: you'll be attacked by insects, hurt your back on the hard ground and be assaulted by the morning heat.

"Well, let's get ready for night then. It's going to get dark soon."

"Mm," the boy nodded. The hour hand of his dear chronograph was already past six. Admittedly, the rather old-fashioned wind-up mechanism wasn't that accurate, but judging from the reddening sky, the time it indicated was probably about right.

"OK, girl, please prepare dinner then. I'll take care of the beds."

"Got it, boy."

They both started with their respective tasks without once calling each other by name.

From the Super Cub's luggage carrier, which they had extended down both sides of the rear wheel, the boy removed a big bundle of their sleeping equipment, while the girl took out a bag once stuffed with ingredients but was now mostly empty except for cookware. Then they set to their respective tasks.

The boy went to two old wooden benches that were sitting end-to-end. Despite being well-worn, they were ideal for his purpose: barely long enough to stretch one's legs out on them and free of disturbing objects like a back or armrests. Even better, the benches were set up between two trees at their sides. Perfect.

He slowly took out some small rolled-up blankets from the bundle. There were eight of those sheets in total, carefully compacted and secured using a clever technique they had thought up. They would therefore get four sheets apiece. On each bench, he folded a pair of these sheets three times and laid them down as a sleeping mat. Then, he laid one sheet down on each bench as a blanket. Though it was summer, they were in the high north on an island, so the weather could change in an instant. The last two blankets he rolled up as pillows.

Next, he made a roof using a laundry line and a large blue sheet. He tied the line to the tree trunks, stretching it over their improvised beds, and pulled the blue sheet over it. The roof was made tent-shaped by placing a weight on each corner. That would be enough to shield them from sunlight as well as from light rain. The arrangement would be pretty vulnerable to the wind, but tying it to the Super Cub, would probably prevent it from being blown away.

Finally, he placed a hollow ceramic pig which had been to the side of the luggage carrier between the benches and loaded its belly with a mosquito coil.

All set!

"Oh?"

After completing the camping preparations, an appetizing smell wafting his way caused the boy to turn and look.

What greeted his eyes was not merely a delicious meal, but a crucial part of every man's dream—a girl preparing dinner in an apron. She was using a small gas camp stove and a little frying pan to warm some corned beef and canned white asparagus.

While he wasn't too happy about the asparagus, the aroma of the beef roasting in butter called out to his empty stomach and he had to struggle to keep it quiet.

She divided the small meal into two portions with their pocketknife, took out two slices of bread from an airtight container and sandwiched half of the ingredients between them. Finally, she toasted the sandwich as a whole.

Though the knife wasn't really meant for cooking, the girl moved skillfully and the sandwich was completed in no time. It was topped with the perfect amount of mustard, and the golden-brown color of the toasted bread made him even hungrier.

However, the boy did not eat the sandwich right away.

They had, after all, decided to always eat their meals together.

While the girl was preparing a similar sandwich—with a rather different amount of mustard—for herself, the boy struggled to hold back a waterfall of saliva that was threatening to flow from his mouth.

"Okay, I'm done. Let's eat!"

The girl swiftly untied her apron and sat down on her temporary bed.

"..."

Then she noticed the boy's stare.

"...What?"

"Ah, I just thought that you've become quite girl...like."

''Ow! my shin!''

"What's that supposed to mean!"

"No, uhm, the way you cook and take off your apron makes you look somehow..." ''To be honest, she rather gave the impression of a housewife, but I don't think I would survive telling her that.''

"Well, even ''you'' would get used to it if you had to play chef for three months straight!"

"I'm sorry for pushing it on you all the time! ...Anyway, let's eat."

"Yeah yeah."

The girl sat down again and picked up her sandwich.

They gave each other a slight smile and took their first bites at the same time.

Neither of them talked to the other, but they exchanged smiles from time to time.

Both the succulent corned beef and the spicy mustard whetted their appetites, so they both dug ravenously into their sandwiches. It was so tasty that the boy didn't even mind the asparagus.

The only bad thing about it was that there was but one bite left.

The boy threw the last bit into his mouth with slight regret, and dusted the bread crumbs from his hands.

"Thanks for the meal."

"Yeah. Thanks for the meal."

The girl folded her hands.

"...By the way, boy."

"Mm?"

"...We're out of bread and beef now."

"Whahua?!"

The girl gave him a cold, hard look.

"It's been a week since we last picked up any food supplies. If you don't get that bike working, starting tomorrow asparagus will be the ''only'' thing on the menu!"

"I-Is that a threat?!"

"Of course not. I'm just informing you, ''my dear driver''."

This verbal blow sent the boy spiraling from cloud nine to the pits of despair. The girl, who had no problems with eating asparagus, beamed at him. He found that she looked more hateful than triumphant, though. ''Damn. I seriously have to get this fixed...!''

Looking up, he noticed that the sun was just about to go completely below the horizon. The dusk remaining slowly faded and thick darkness blanketed the world. It wouldn't be long until they would be completely blanketed by the dark.

To fight back, he turned on a lamp comprised of an LED penlight and a few fluorescent sticks.

"It's already dark out. How about you hit the sack, girl?"

"Huh—? You're staying up?" The girl frowzily turned her head toward him. She had already lain down on her bed some time before the boy told her to.

"I still have to write today's diary entry...Haven't you noticed that the entries have taken a rather tragic turn for the last few days?"

"Of course. There really hasn't been anything good to say since then. Like I told you before, we're running really low on supplies."

"What about water?"

"I think we're OK for now, but all we have left is from the water tower, so we need to boil it tomorrow."

They were in a truly dire situation. They had enough fuel for the Super Cub, but it would be too dangerous to boil water with it. At most they could use it to help start a fire.

The boy sighed deeply and took a thick volume from the bookbag they kept random things in.

It wasn't really a book; but their diary. The front cover was blank, so you couldn't tell what it was originally supposed to be used for, but the two of them used this massive book to record their travels. It was about two inches thick, and the corners of its hard cover were reinforced with brass. It even had a belt around it with a matching brass lock.

The key for the diary was on the same key chain as the ignition key for the Super Cub. As always, the boy opened the lock, turned to that day's page, and put pencil to paper.

The white penlight provided more than enough illumination for him to write. It shone with an artificial light that balanced against the stars twinkling in the purple night sky. In contrast to the countless lights above, below there was only the penlight and the glowing mosquito coil.

After about 10 minutes, the boy finished his diary entry. He resealed the book with its key and returned it to the bookbag. Then he turned off the light and lay down on his improvised bed.

The penlight left behind a green afterimage behind on their retinas, and as if to compensate for its absence, the stars in the dark sky seemed to brighten in their eyes.

All that could be seen were the kaleidoscopic orbs painting the heavens, endless meadows carpeting the land from horizon to horizon, and a narrow gray road slicing through the landscape.

And in one corner of that scene, two travelers slowly fell asleep.

<div style="text-align: center;">✱</div>

Back pain woke the girl the next morning.

She opened her eyes, and found herself lying on the bare ground. Her body was contorted into the posture of a stereotypical murder victim. If someone were to draw a chalk line around her body, she would form a perfect corpse. Obviously, she hadn't been murdered, but had merely fallen from her makeshift bed. Seeing no need to panic, she stirred herself and sat up. The other bed was already empty. A few yards away, the boy was dueling with the Super Cub, wielding a spanner in one hand.

"...Quite the early bird, aren't you?"

"'Early to bed and late to rise' isn't a good thing, you know?"

The girl was, however, no longer groggy enough to ignore such an insolent remark. She let him off with a kick to his back for now.

Satisfied by seeing the boy fall over in pain, she tried to relax her sore back by taking yoga-like poses, twisting her hips left and right, and finally stretching her arms up as high as she could reach. She considered running through a whole set of calisthenics, but she cut her stretching short and finished with a deep breath on the grounds that doing them by herself would look pretty pathetic.

"But boy, did you get up early so you could fix the bike?"

"Well, yeah. Otherwise it would get too hot before I finish." The boy took off his work gloves, which were black with oil and carbon. "Anyway, as soon as I'm through with this, I will have done everything I can. If it still doesn't work, then we can't fix it with what we have on hand."

"Uwaa, so now it's make-or-break, huh." The girl smiled wryly and started to gather everything she needed to treat their water.

As all of the water they had remaining had been taken from an unsafe source, she prepared to sterilize it by boiling. Using their small gas stove to heat such a large amount of water would be wasteful, so instead she collected branches and dried grass for an open fire. After arranging them on a brick, she lit the kindling using the boy's Zippo lighter.

It was already past seven in the morning and the sun was rising steadily. Before they knew it, the northern island's cool night air had been completely swept away and the hot summer sun beat down on them with the same intensity as it did in the other parts of the country.

While the girl labored at her torrid work, the boy continued his repair attempt.

The Super Cub's engine was actually rather simple. In fact, the boy had become quite good at disassembling its single-cylinder four-stroke engine.

He could, however, do little in the way of actual repairs beyond adjusting parts that had come out of alignment and tightening loose bolts. There wasn't enough space on the bike to carry spare parts in case something actually broke. If that was the source of their current problems, then they were in quite a bind indeed.

The bike had endured a lot of abuse from its previous owner; a broken part wasn't exactly unlikely. Bolts had come loose, rivets were damaged, the head gasket was developing a crack, and the oil was dirty. The tires and brake pads had become as smooth as a bald head, and the suspension was worn out. Unfortunately, they still needed the Super Cub to hold out for a good while longer. 



"I wish I could get some replacement parts..." murmured the boy. ''Or if I could at least get my hands on some fresh oil, I could clean the parts we have.'' Though there wouldn't be any point in cleaning the parts if they would immediately become contaminated by the dirty oil in the engine.

"So, how does it look?" The boy was addressed from behind.

"Suboptimal."

"Uh-oh. Should I get ready for a walk?"

"Maybe? Well, we'll find out really soon." He gripped the handlebars, work gloves still on, and placed his foot on the starter pedal.

''...Please, God, make this work,'' he prayed, and stomped on the starter pedal with all his might.

The engine turned over a few times, emitting a weak chugging sound. Even the girl, who had little experience with machines, could tell that it was a failure.

"..."

Not one to give up so quickly, he tried again. This time, he not only prayed to God, but also to the Super Cub itself.

"Aaaaand go!"

It made the same burdened chugging, but this time it stopped with a loud clank.

"...sigh."

It seemed that neither God nor the Super Cub felt like answering his prayer.

After giving up on repairing the bike, they started quickly packing.

Three months had passed since they started their journey, and with all that practice they had become accordingly efficient in their daily tasks. They poured the newly-disinfected water into two-liter bottles and stuffed a few useful-looking pieces of firewood in a special bag after breaking them into smaller pieces. Their camping equipment managed to wander back into the bundle, and they attached it to the silent Super Cub.

In the 30 minutes required they had already become soaked with sweat.

Though they were pretty far north, it was past nine and the summer sun was already broiling the land without mercy. If they could, they would have loved to ask the sun to lower its thermostat, but their voices would never be heard from 93 million miles away.

"Are we going to throw Cubby away after all?" Holding a helmet in one hand, the girl tapped her other hand on the saddle of their silver Super Cub. The black synthetic leather had already become too hot to touch for long. "I wish we could get it fixed somehow. I mean, we finally got used to riding on it together.

"Well, you've got a point there. Neither of us has ever used any other vehicle before, so we might not be able to use another bike even if we found one." The Super Cub is generally considered to be ideal for new riders because it was designed to be simple to operate... "But if it doesn't work..."

"Then it's useless junk!"

The girl kicked the Super Cub.

That moment, as if to protest the abuse of his dear two-wheeler, the boy's stomach suddenly growled. The girl's stomach, too, started growling in response.

"..."

"What are ''you'' looking at?! I haven't had breakfast either, so of course I'm hungry!"

"Ah, I was just surprised at how loud your stomach can...Ah—ouchouchouch!!"

The girl pulled his earlobe, stopping his words in their tracks.

"I'll cut your rations for that comment!"

"What am I, a dog?!"

"If you're not, then use your calories to move your feet instead of talking!"

"...it hardly uses any energy to talk..."

The girl did not object, but merely murmured something while taking a can out from the bag attached to the rear wheel and sat down on the nearest bench.

"It's hardtack. You don't have any problems with this, right?"

"...but it's too bland."

"Oh my! Aren't you the spoiled brat?"

"You complain as much as I do."

"Shut up. I made sure to prepare something. Look." She placed something next to the hardtack — a jar of strawberry jam.

"Happy? This is the best we have. We don't have much in the way of fruit preserves like this, so you better not use it all up."

"Yes, Ma'am!"

With only a few ounces of spread, the dry and tasteless hardtack would blossom into a graceful dessert. When they opened the jar, a sour yet fruity fragrance wafted out and sharpened their hunger.

"Shall we eat then?"

They took out enough for one meal and ate breakfast before departing. Having replenished a little energy, the pair's steps seemed a lot lighter than they had the day before.

<div style="text-align: center;">✱</div>

What we know as a "mirage" the Japanese call "escaping water." It is the refraction of light by hot air over a very hot flat surface, resembling reflections off of a nonexistent pool of water. Because it only occurs a long way off, you can never reach the pool and so the water is said to "escape." Since the boy and girl were both born and raised in a large city, mirages were a new and interesting experience, but it didn't take long before they became merely nerve-wracking.

They had already walked half a day, getting roasted both by the sun's rays from above and heat radiating up from below. Other than four short breaks, they had walked non-stop.

From time to time, they could even sense malice that seemed to come from the sun. However, any traces of emotion they displayed in reaction seemed to evaporate into a shimmer of hot air. They trudged on in a robotic state, pushing the bike with vacant expressions.

The scenery around them was exactly the same as half a day before, consisting solely of an endlessly long road flanked by meadows on both sides. The only thing that had changed was the angle from which they were being roasted by the sun.

"...I'm hot," murmured the girl while pushing the Super Cub along from the side.

"...What a coincidence...So am I," replied the boy while equally pushing the bike's handlebars from the other side.

This was the first conversation they had had in an hour. Their steps were as unreliable as a sleepwalker's, and they would have long since fallen down if they hadn't been leaning on the Super Cub while they were pushing it.

The boy had taken off his white shirt and was using it as a sunshade, while the girl had put a small plastic sheet on her head.
[[Image:Tabi_ni_Deyou_P0029.jpg|thumb|Their steps were as unreliable as a sleepwalker's, and they would have long since fallen down if they hadn't been leaning on the Super Cub while they were pushing it.]]

The heat would have been much less torturous if they could at least dampen their makeshift sunshades, but they had none to spare. They only had ten liters of water remaining, enough for them to last five days at the very most. Since they couldn't predict when they would find their next water source, careless water use could spell death for both of them.

If everything were working normally, they might have been able to call for help with a mobile phone, but that was not the case. Because the cellular infrastructure had broken down, mobile phones had turned into mere pocket lamps with an included clock, calendar, camera, and notebook functionality. The boy's phone, however, had run out of batteries, rendering it entirely useless.

"...why can't there...at least be a downhill slope..."

"...don't even say it...If you remind me...that we're still going uphill...I'll lose all my strength..."

They were struggling up the worst kind of incline. Even though the road continued straight all the way to the horizon, it gently rose the whole way. The effort needed to push the bike up the slight slope sapped their energy like a leech, and their legs grew heavier and heavier.

"It's still quite a ways...to the next city...are we really going to be okay like this...?"

"Hang in there...girl! Look, we're almost...to the top."

"...I hope it'll be steep...enough to ride down on the bike."

Silently agreeing with her, the boy took a few more steps. He firmly gripped the handlebars of the heavily laden bike for one last push, and they finally arrived at the top of the slope.

"Haaah," the girl panted aloud. She turned to the road they had just climbed up. The gentle slope continued downward unceasingly until it merged in the sky. The rest area which they had departed from that morning was already beyond the horizon. "We walked quite a bit just now, didn't we..."

When the boy didn't react to her murmur, the girl turned to him. She found him peering through a pair of binoculars he had taken out of their bag.

"Do you see something?"

"...over there..."

The girl just cocked her head, so he thrust the binoculars into her hands.

At first she was startled by a blurry view, but after a quick focus adjustment, she saw another downward slope that mirrored the one they had just come up. When she raised the binoculars to look at the horizon, she saw a small patch where the color of the vegetation was a little different. It wasn't very big, but a section of the grassy area was covered with a slightly more intense green than its surroundings.

".......it's farmland... and there's a house, boy!"

The magnified image was shaking in her tired hands, but it was certainly someone's residence. No doubt about it: by the side of the road dividing the green scenery was a roof and some cultivated land.

The ground was sectioned off by what looked like hand-made fences and seemed to be cultivated with fruits and vegetables. They could even see a rice paddy next to it. The land was in good order and had clearly been recently maintained by someone.

Of course, it wasn't possible to tell if anybody was actually there from this distance, but any place that has ever been inhabited must have had a water supply. And judging from the greener vegetation they saw, there was probably some water left.

"Let's get going, boy! It's right over there at the horizon! We'll be there in no time!"

"All right!"

The girl tossed the binoculars back into the bag and they started pushing the bike down the hill with renewed vigor. While the slope wasn't steep enough for them to coast on the bike, their destination was in sight and they were filled with a sudden burst of energy.

After sprinting just over halfway at full speed, they remembered that the distance to the horizon varies depending on the ground level.



<div style="text-align: center;">✱</div>

"I'm dying."

"Me too."

The conversations between them had at last decreased to a few words from time to time. It was only natural, though, because they had pushed their bike at a run over a distance that would be classified "long" in track and field athletics. On top of that, they were having a hard time holding their bike back because the steepness of the second half was nasty and added to their labor. While it wasn't as bad as during the rising slope, it was no comparison to walking on a flat ground.

Nevertheless, they eventually reached the house in question. Their shadows had grown long and from somewhere one could hear a crow's call.

The girl didn't have enough power left to even raise her head, therefore it was the boy who set the kickstand of the bike and approached the building.

"Could this be... a general store and farm combination...?" he muttered to himself, while surveying the isolated house and the field with his gaze.

On the left side of the road was a general store which was also used as a residence and on the right side was cultivated land. Both of them showed signs of human maintenance.

The combination of the gray road running through a landscape of green meadows and this small "foreign matter" in the middle of it somehow reminded him of a railway and its station. He could also see lots of vegetables that were nearing harvest. It had been a long time since he had last seen such scenery. Tomatoes, shining bright red in the sunlight, cucumbers, so big he started to suspect that the growers were using strange chemicals, and types of vegetables he hadn't seen in ages were swaying in the wind.

"Wow...... hey, girl... girl? Whoa! Girl! Are you OK?!"

The girl, who was supposed stand behind the Super Cub, had fallen prostrate on the hot ground without moving a muscle. Most likely, it was not just the crimson light of the slowly setting sun that dyed her face red.

The boy heaved her up in a hurry and walked towards the field, searching for a source of water. There should be a source of water for it. Maybe he would be going to get scolded for entering without permission, but in that case he could do nothing but apologize.

However, when he was about to pass by the general store, something that was rather out-of-place caught his eye.

A foreign automobile was parked in the shadow of the building - a very luxurious one at that.

That shiny thing on its bonnet that was sparkling despite being in the shadow looked like the Mercedes-Benz emblem. The boy wasn't very interested in the car market, but it reeked of money just by looking at the big aluminum wheels and the real leather seats. A white-gloved chauffeur, brushing off the dust from that gorgeous car with a feather duster, would have fit perfectly into the picture.

But why on earth would such a rich Mercedes driver want to work on a field in the northern back of beyond?

He couldn't wipe away his wonderment, but right now the girl he was lending a shoulder seemed to on the verge of melting away, so he hurried to the fields.

While admiring the fabulous condition of the tomatoes and the cucumbers, he slipped through between them and headed deeper into the area. It was hard to search for a source of water while carrying the exhausted girl, but he found one surprisingly quickly.

It was a watering place that was built like a well and was located almost exactly in the center of the field along the road.

Right behind of it was the face of an artificial, small hill-like construction, which was reinforced with stones and equipped with a PVC pipe. Surprisingly clear water flowed out of that pipe into an overflowing　concrete basin.

After making the girl sit down on the stone bench beside it, the boy grabbed himself a plastic wash bowl that was floating in the basin and started scooping water.

Well, and then:

"Wake up, girl!"

Sunstroke, heatstroke, an empty stomach and exhaustion had almost turned the girl into a dried cuttlefish, so, to help her, he splashed it all on her with vigor.

"...whatrya doing you MORON!?"

With a lightning right hand, the girl stole the wash bowl from him and smashed it against his face. Without water.

On the left side was, the boy holding his nose. On the opposite side, the girl wet from head to toe. Each of them took a weapon within reach, scooped some water and then stood still, facing each other.

"..."

"..."

Both of them crouched, taking an attack stance, and at the very moment before a dramatic splashing contest would have started, a voice interrupted them.

"Hello there! Are you guests?"

The boy and girl turned around to the owner of the voice while letting the water in their bowls pour to the ground. And then, both of them were thunderstruck.
[[Image:Tabi_ni_Deyou_P0037.jpg|thumb|Both of them lowered their knees, taking an attack stance, and at the very moment before a dramatic splash contest would have started, a voice interrupted them.]]

<div style="text-align: center;">✱</div>

There was a brightly smiling man who wiped away his sweat. A man in his forties, probably, and still in the prime of life was standing there with a straw hat, a towel, a pair of leather boots, a white shirt and an Armani suit, which was rolled up to his knees. His slender yet firm body reminded of the typical sports teacher and his warm smile strongly suggested the landed gentry. He was the living example that a gentleman remains a gentleman even when working on a farm.

However, it wasn't his sudden appearance or his contrastive outfit that surprised them. What surprised them most was his hair.

His hair was not deep-black as it was supposed to be, but snow white like after using some strong decolorant. Moreover, his skin was almost as white as an albino's, showing no signs of tanning despite his work under the blazing sun.

"Oh, did I startle you?"

"Ah, no, um..."

"Excuse us for staring at you like this."

She lowered her head. This gave the boy the feeling that women might be more skillful in apologizing than men. It was kind of the wrong time to think about such things, though.

Because the two travelers had just come through hovering between life and death and the man was currently making a pause anyway, they decided to sit down on the stone bench and take a break.

The bench was broad enough for about five people and, thanks to the roof that was installed over it, they were protected from the sunlight. Because the water trough was right over there, it was much cooler than on the asphalt road. The ground had gotten wet with the water the boy had splashed on it, but the midsummer sun was drying it. Of course, the same applied to the soaking wet girl.

"...Ah, right. I should introduce myself. This is who I am,"

He took out a little case from his chest pocket, with truly fluent movements at that, and held a business card out to them while giving them a nod.

This sequence of movements was already brought to perfection and made it clear that he had been used to doing this in his daily life.

«　　　　　　　　　　　　Transport Corporation, Representative Director　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　» was written on it.

The name of the transport company and the name of the person himself were missing.

There were no traces of a misprint or abrasion; the letters themselves had completely vanished. In fact, the paper was perfectly fine. It was almost like he had made empty cards for fun.

One had to concentrate to see it, but only the logo of the company was printed faintly in a corner of the card.

''I'm not too sure, but I think that was a quite famous company.''

"...well, it's not like there is a point in giving you a business card without my name on it, though."

The boy reluctantly looked up at the bitterly smiling man.

"So... it was «lost»?"

"Yeah, exactly. My name has vanished," he stated plainly. "One day while I was working at the company as usual, the people in my department told me that they had forgotten my name. I had a bad feeling about it because they couldn't remember whatever they tried, so I investigated that matter. What I discovered was that my name had disappeared from all kinds of places: from the data and documents of the company, from my own business cards, my name plate and so on. But what's most, I myself was unable to recall my name."

On hearing the indifferent tone in his voice, the boy and the girl exchanged glances and returned their attention to the man again.

"Even our business partners had forgotten my name altogether. Some among them had even forgotten my face. Well, you can imagine how wearisome it was to continue to work like that."

The man let out a laugh and put the business card back into the case.

"In the end, I could see no point in continuing my work anymore, so I threw everything away and left. After some time of wandering around the country I eventually settled down here. ...Do you want to join me?"

It wasn't farm work that he offered them, but some bright red tomatoes that had been cooled with spring water to an appealing temperature and reflected the sunlight.

It goes without saying that their "Yes" wasn't long in coming.

<div style="text-align: center;">✱</div>

"...To tell you the truth, I've always wanted to work in agriculture. Yet, I ended up employed in a transport company for vegetables. After a period of hard work there, I suddenly became the head of a department, then a managing director, then the director of the branch and before I knew it, I had reached this age and had become the representative director of the main branch."

"...but that's quite amazing, isn't it?"

The boy set his eyes on the man while biting into his second red gem.

This fabulously mellow tomato was so luscious it almost seemed to burst. There was no comparison between the usual tomato juice and this wonderful fresh fruit flesh. A sense of wellbeing spread through his entire body, which hadn't received any fresh vegetables recently.

He had never thought that he could experience such a magnificent feeling with a mere tomato. Right now he was confident to be able to even munch a hated green pepper. Raw.

"Well, it may look amazing to others I guess. But you see, I liked my work and, as it seems, I had a talent for it. I was interested, so I was absorbed in what I was doing and had climbed high on my career ladder without noticing. But at the same time, I had also removed myself more and more from the work I actually wanted to do."

The girl was sitting next to the boy and having a hard time deciding whether she should ignore the danger of getting a stomach ache and set about a third tomato.

"Thus you made your dream of working on a farm come true under the convenient pretext that your name had been «lost». Uh-huh."

Her choice of words contained a thorny undertone. But not out of ill will. It was more something like sarcasm that she mixed into her words to tease him. The director seemed to be aware of this as well and flashed a smile.

"Yeah. This may be rude to my former colleagues in the company, but every day here is so much fun! ...Well, but the stuff I learned in school and my experience at work don't really come into any use."

The man smiled wryly.

"Why did you come all the way here from Honshu  anyway? Wouldn't you have been able to find some cultivated land over there, too?"

"There's no real reason. It's not like I planned to work on a field from the very beginning. At first, I thought I'd drive about a bit for sightseeing, but then I came across this house here. At the time, an old woman was running the general store all on her own. She let me live here and taught me how to grow up vegetables, while I gave her a hand on the field."

"How is she doing now?"

"...in March this year... she vanished."

"...I see," the boy said thoughtfully, while the girl next to him at last gave in to the temptation and took a big bite of her third tomato.

At this moment.

"Oh, director? Do we have guests?"

A female voice had suddenly interrupted.

The beautiful voice was clear like an announcer's. Its owner stood amidst a corn field dyed in the colors of the setting sun.

At once, the corn grown tall enough for someone to hide in rustled and through it a female secretary appeared. Properly wearing a suit. You may call it a matter of course, but she was a stunning beauty.

"...you've got a secretary even for farm work?!"

They gave him a fierce clip in his belly. Of course, with some restraint.

After recovering from the agony, the director introduced the lady who had joined in the round.

"...uhm, she is my secretary. Since her name has been «lost», she's simply called secretary."

"I am the secretary. It is a pleasure to meet you."

The woman bowed in a truly beautiful angle.

This angle and the position of her hands were proof that she had brought these movements to perfection as a part of her job. However, her suit was dirty and her skin, once white, had been browned by the sun. She was wearing a straw hat on top of her long, pretty black hair and holding some fresh-picked corn in both hands. A hand towel was draped over her shoulders and she wasn't wearing high heels but rubber boots. It was a queer contrast.

She gave them a bright smile, whereupon the two of them exchanged glances. The time to introduce themselves had come.

"Err... I'm simply the boy. My favorite dish at the moment is tomato."

"I'm the girl. My temporary favorite dish is tomato. There are plans to shift this to corn very soon."

They bowed together and were requited with the secretary's giggle; a delightful one that would have made for a perfect example of how to laugh brilliantly.

In the end, she decided to pause work as well and joined in the chatter. It was already 6pm. The environment was ideal for taking a break as the air was pleasantly fresh thanks to the gradually dropping temperature and the water nearby.

"Are you on a journey?"

"Yes. We dropped everything and went on a journey. So it's basically the same as it was for the director, isn't it?"

The secretary giggled again on hearing the girl's confident answer.

"Meaning you eloped with your boyfriend?"

"......"

When she asked this question, confident that she were spot-on, the girl's face froze with an uneasy expression. Then, with exactly that expression, she turned a look that contained a strange combination of doubt and expectation to the boy.

"Are you...... my boyfriend?"

She straight-out asked his view on the matter. Puzzled over how he should answer her, he put his hand under his chin and pondered.

"...we never made such an oath... I think."

When he had finally managed to work out this reply, he got kicked by her for whatever reason. This is what they call unreasonableness.

The secretary giggled once more. "I see you are on very good terms with each other. Don't make me jealous!"

After the secretary had said so, the girl stopped her kick assault and proceeded with her tomato.

"But doesn't that go for yourself too, secretary? I mean, you accompanied the director when he abandoned his company, and now you're even working on his farm. Don't you mix quite well in a sense?"

"Oh? But I have not abandoned my work at all?" the secretary said in a wholly stunned-seeming voice, surrounded by three wondering observers. "You see, my job is to support the director. I have not abandoned my work. The director is the only one who has."

"H-How can you say that! Sure, you've come here because of me, but I never forced you, did I?"

"None of your excuses! In spite of the fact that I only came along with you due to my job, you told me to «please wash the tomatoes» and to «go get some water to wash the radish». How could I ever refuse your orders in my position?"

She pursed her lips, "Hmph!" and pushed the full corn basket upon the director. "Thanks to that I have gotten completely used to farm work. Anyway, I will go prepare some tea for our guests, so please wash these and make some grilled corn in the meantime, director."

"O-Okay."

After forcing this giant amount of corn upon the director - almost like a pile of documents - she went away at a good pace in order to make them some tea. The director followed her, leaving the boy and girl behind alone by the well.

Neither the director nor the secretary had shown any signs of wonderment when they didn't tell them their names.

The corn field rustled in the gentle wind. Behind it, they could see the slowly setting sun at the horizon.

"...Boy?"

"...Mhm?" he answered her whisper without giving her a look.

"The director's color is very weak, isn't it?"

"...Yeah."

His hair had turned completely white. His age was approximately somewhere between late thirties to mid-forties. Such white hair in this age would normally be nearly impossible, but that only applies to normal people.

It was the same for his skin. In comparison, the secretary had probably done equally or less work than he, but she was suntanned. However, ''his'' skin was pigment-poor, almost like an albino's.

"...Isn't it hot today?"

"...Well, it's already August..."

The sound of the secretary's hurrying steps cut into their pointless conversation.

She put a tray on the stone bench and, along with a refreshing sound, filled their cups with tea. It could be expected that she, as a secretary, knew how to prepare delicious tea, but sadly it should be rather difficult to make full use of these skills for barley tea.

However, the served barley tea had been cooled with fresh spring water and was so chilly that the surface of their cups fogged.

The girl emptied the cup in one go, as if this was the etiquette in this land.

However, the sight of her gulping down the tea wasn't exactly "elegant".

"Ah, right!"

The two girls turned their gazes to the boy.

"What's the matter, boy?"

"Ah, it's not like it's urgent right now, but I was thinking about replenishing our reserves if the water isn't limited."

"Ah, I see..."

Asking gazes focused on the secretary.

"Yes. I think it is fine! This well seems to take its water from a natural spring after all."

"Yay! Fresh water ahoy!"

''As the water is that clear, it shouldn't be necessary to boil it up. Mh... in that case, we ought to throw away the water from yesterday's rest area and fill with fresh. It feels kind of like a waste since we went through the trouble of disinfecting it, but that can't be helped.''

"Alright, I'll go and fill our bottles up then."

"Eh? Wait, I'll help you."

"I'm fine, no worries. ...in return, you can save me some corn!"

The boy thrust his finger before her, lending weight to his words, after which the girl sat down again.

The secretary watched his back while he was getting the water, fanning himself due to the heat, with a somewhat meaningful look and muttered, "...he looks very kind. Get going and make him your boyfriend!"

The girl spat out a mouthful of barley tea. Mainly from her mouth. But wasn't there also some that came out of her nose...?

The secretary smiled wryly while patting her back.

"Is it really something to get that startled about? The pair of you slipping out of school and then starting a journey on a bike - what else other than a couple should this be?"

"W-Who knows? I mean, aren't there many different relationships between boys and girls apart from spouses, lovers and siblings?"

Her voice was hoarse because some tea had entered her wind-pipe.

"For instance, the relationship between a director and a secretary?"

The secretary giggled, but the girl averted her gaze uncomfortably.

"But you followed the director here although you aren't a couple, right?"

"Yes. Because I am his secretary."

"...so you have no special feelings for him?"

"Well... as things stand, not in particular?"

"Which means you're merely superior and employee?"

"Yes. After all, he had always addressed me using my surname or no name at all, so maybe he did not even know my full name to begin with?" she said and added a little quieter. "The truth will remain unrevealed though."

The unconcerned voice of the secretary and her amused smile were something to exceed the understanding of girl.

However, she could very much agree with the vague motive veiled in her words. The girl didn't intend to put her thoughts into words, but by looking into her eyes she also realized that secretary didn't seek her understanding anyway.

"And still you don't mind his egoism and keep helping his work on the field?"

"Yes. Because I have decided to stay."

"On this farm?"

"No. With him."

Her confident smile was very calm, yet fulfilled with a strong will.

For some reason, the girl became wholeheartedly embarrassed and felt that she was blushing up to the ears although it wasn't about herself.

Unable to endure, she averted her eyes and looked in another direction.

"...until death parts you?"

"Of course."

The girl heard a somehow triumphant voice from behind her and couldn't bear up against the impulse to scratch her head.

"......You have my support."

The secretary was a little surprised at this sudden and indirect yell, but then she replied with a beaming smile, "Thank you."

It was not an artificial smile like she used to use at work, nor was it an expression of comfort. It was the first wholehearted smile she showed them since they had met.

Just, it was a pity that neither the girl, who had her look turned away, nor the boy, who had gone to fetch their water, and not even the director, who was grilling the corn, could see it.

"Oi! I didn't know how much we'd need, so I just made lots of them!"

They turned around towards the direction of the voice and spotted the director in question bringing a full basket of corn with him.

"D-Director! Who on earth is going to eat all that?!"

The secretary's roaring rebuke made the director wince.

"But they're still so young... I thought they would eat about this much."

"Nobody can eat this much bare corn without any side dishes! ...It seems like we have to make this our dinner...... besides, I am still young, too."

"I-I'm sorry..."

"My... there is no helping it. Please call the boy."

Contrary to their original relationship, it was the director who was scolded. He walked back the way he had just come from with a confused face.

A fragrant smell arose from the basket that had been left here in his place. Apparently, the director had kindly prepared two types of corn for them. One that was grilled with no special seasoning and another that was first dipped in soy sauce.

The two girls gulped wordlessly.

"...I just remembered another reason why I am here."

"Eh?" She turned around to the secretary who had muttered something.

The secretary continued, still gazing at the steaming corn.

"......I am bad at cooking."

"...Hah."

What could be called a light conversation was still moving on, but their gazes and concentration were fully arrested by the corn.

"...The director is very good at it. Really."

"...It does look that way."

Less than a minute later, they were finally freed from the shackles of self-control and could reach out for the grilled corn.

<div style="text-align: center;">✱</div>

"Ah... ouch, ugh..."

"That's what you get from eating without restraint! It seems like they will let us spend the night here, so just lie still for a while."

The boy smiled wryly and laid a cushion on the veranda for her as a substitute for a pillow.

The cause for her stomach ache was, naturally, overeating.

At the moment, the two of them were cooling down on the veranda at the back of the shop with fans in their hands.

"Geez... Wasn't it clear that you would get a stomach-ache from that much corn?"

"B-Be quiet already..."

Even her abusive remarks were lacking power. In the end, she had eaten a whole three cobs of corn. So it was certainly not a weak digestive system that was at fault for her stomach-ache.

Well, one must remember that it was freshly picked freshly grilled extra-big corn. Corn is said to be best immediately after being picked. He himself couldn't get enough of it, either, so he could understand her.

However, she had already eaten four cold tomatoes at the time. It was natural that even a stomach like hers, which made the boy think it was titan-made at times, would naturally hurt with such a lot of heavy food in it.

"Dammit...! Why does it have to be so tasty when it's grilled...!" 

The boy was amazed at her undue complaints but kept quiet because he feared the consequences. Therefore, he decided for a slightly more reserved reply.

"Well, it was freshly grilled after all. It would be fraud if it wasn't tasty."

"...Word... I guess something like this suits us much better than high-class stuff like crabs and tuna."

"Indeed."

The boy agreed with a wry smile. However, he was pretty confident that the girl would take back that word the very moment when she actually saw some crab or tuna.

Incidentally, the boy had controlled himself a little and had only eaten two tomatoes and two ears of corn, which is why he was full but not in a "critical" state like the girl.

Judging only from her, it seemed true that women are hungrier than men.

By now, the heat that had tormented them during the day had gone down quite a bit. In the background one could hear the harmonic sound of wind chimes softly swaying. This melody was accompanied by the fragrance of summer - the smell of mosquito coil.

He suddenly turned his gaze to the garden. The thoroughly groomed garden was planted with some hydrangeas, whose season had already ended, and a bunch of the typical flowers of summer behind them.

A group of magnificent, tall sunflowers reflected the evening sun with their widely-spread yellow petals as if to substitute what they symbolized.

Further down the garden he could see a plastic greenhouse, which had apparently been repaired by the director. Because it was still midsummer, there was only soil inside.

But it seemed, they had already sown some sprouts; there were small green plants inside a row of neatly ordered planters.

"...Boy...?"

"Mhm?"

The girl suddenly addressed him with a reserved voice, but then got flustered herself.

Because they were alone and in the right mood, so she had called his name. But there was no topic.

Naturally unable to continue the debate on food, she opened and closed her mouth for a while like a goldfish.

"Um... err..."

"They're strawberries. They won't be ready for picking until next year, though. But you have to plant them already at this period."

The boy turned his head towards the sudden voice from behind.

The girl could just turn over on her side because she was lying down anyway. The director showed no signs of noticing the grudge in her eyes.

"To tell the truth, I love fruit just as much as I love vegetables. Oh boy, I'm so looking forward to next year!"

It was unclear to the boy and girl whether he loved ''raising'' them or ''eating'' them, but they didn't ask. It was probably both.

"Director, how is your stomach?"

"Please don't ask!"

The director sat down next to the boy while holding his painfully growling stomach.

Because he had made a great amount of grilled corn, the secretary had forced him to dispose of the left-overs. In other words: to eat the remaining corn.

It was obvious that after consuming such an amount of high-fiber corn, the toilet had become his best friend.

However, what had surprised him even more was the secretary. She had easily eaten up four corncobs and, on top of that, she had munched a miso-covered cucumber afterwards, calling it her dessert.

Considering the current state of the girl, he couldn't attribute it to "women have stronger stomachs than men", but people that live in the middle of this giant land might just be built differently than them city folk. In a good sense, of course.

"So, did you manage to get rid of the corn in the end?"

"......Sorry. I left some over."

"My, my. Well, such 'a lot' decreased to 'some', so it should be fine."

''But while I won't say you deserved it, I don't feel like helping you out, either.''

Suddenly, "Director. Please come over here for a moment." A voice came from the kitchen.

The director got up with a pathetic-sounding "Heave-ho!" and headed to the kitchen, where he eventually left their sight. They could only dimly hear their conversation.

"Is there still something to do?"

"No. We are mostly done."

"Eh? Why did you call me then?"

"I do not think you would understand, director."

"Hah?"

"Never mind! You talk with me here for a while. No objections allowed."

"Hah..."

"Let us begin with the weather."

"Hah?"

The boy could virtually see the bewildered face of the director.

The lying girl gave the secretary the thumbs up in her mind. ''Well done!''

She couldn't waste this extraordinary chance the secretary had provided.

"Boy."

"Mh~?" he replied absent-mindedly.

"I request your lap as my pillow."

"Eeh?!"

Ignoring any complaints, she crawled along the wooden veranda towards him like a caterpillar and invaded his lap with her head.

She also laid the cushion she had used as a pillow before on her stomach to prevent any worse stomach-ache.

"Shouldn't the roles normally be reversed?"

"It's fine in my case. I'm genuinely sick."

"So you call the stomach-ache of a glutton that has simply eaten too much 'sickness', huh... ou-ouch-ouch!?"

She punished his impudent remark by pinching his thigh. ''Experience the proverb "Loose lips sink ships" with your very own body!''

"Geez... this is one hard pillow..."

"Please don't ask a man for the impossible!"

But even while saying so, he carefully moved her head to a place where it didn't hit against any bones. He felt a pleasant heaviness on his thighs.

There was a rather long silence between them then.

It was one of those calm moments, which they had almost never come to enjoy in their busy days of worrying about today's meal and tomorrow's fuel. No, listening to the sound of wind chimes while nestling a veranda with a filled stomach was something they had almost never experienced even in their past. 

"...mnyah... this is happiness..."

"Yeah. Somehow I'm kinda sorry for making them care so much for us."

"...If you want, we can stay here for a few days? We aren't in a hurry after all, and they also said it would be fine."

"There you go again. How would you answer if I agreed?"

"I would disagree. I mean, we are on a journey. While it's okay to stay somewhere to get our provisions, I don't intend to stay somewhere just for some rest."

"Don't ask me then."

"But it would be unfair if I didn't at least hear out your opinion."

One may wonder if there was a point in doing this when the result would stay the same anyway.

"Well, I'm here to accompany you wherever you go."

"I see," the girl said as if she had comprehended everything and closed her eyes.

In fact, the boy had worked a little by helping them out on the field or by doing some housework during the time the girl had been put out of commission.

He did not, however, consider this enough for a night's board and lodging. Leaving aside the housework, the director had almost only been teaching him things about farm work, so it wasn't labor at all.

Paying with money was no option, either. In this region, where the physical distribution has pretty much been cut off, money wasn't worth much anymore. But did he have anything else other than cash that he could give them...?

When he searched his pockets for his wallet, a little book fell out of it to the ground.

It was a notebook with a green vinyl-cover - the notebook containing his student information.

He opened it and, naturally, found his picture and name on the first page.

However, his name had completely vanished from the corresponding field.

"...my picture has faded quite a lot, huh..."

The colors of this picture, in which he was scowling grimly, had changed from weak pastel into nearly monochrome.

If it went on like this, it was just a matter of time until it would become entirely white as well.

It was a few minutes later when the boy noticed that the girl was breathing calmly on his lap.

<div style="text-align: center;">✱</div>

While the secretary was changing the soundly sleeping girl into her pajama, the boy prepared their beds by taking out two guest-futons from the closet, assisted by the director.

Suddenly, the boy recalled something most important.

"Director. Are there any tools for repairing a motorbike in this house?"

"A motorbike? ...Ah, right. You came here on a motorcycle. Is it broken?"

"Yes. For the last five days."

The director made his eyes wide.

"...my sympathies! Tell me, what do you need?"

"Since I just need to replace some parts, a few simple tools, parts, of course..., and some fresh oil should do it."

"Mhm. Let's search the storage shed. Maybe we'll find something there."

With these words the director headed to the garden, followed by the boy.

<div style="text-align: center;">✱</div>

Nighttime. The sun had completely disappeared from the sky, and the world, the little general store in the middle of the meadows was no exception. It too was shrouded in the veil of darkness. Since naturally there was no electricity, the only light source was one of those antique lanterns. Nevertheless, its warm orange light was bright enough for their eyes that had adjusted to the darkness and lit the room. Apparently, the candle used was homemade. To the boy and girl, this softly swaying but brightly shining candle seemed very unique and characteristic for 'this place'.

Because it was ''such a place'', there was no traffic noise and hurly-burly like in the city, which they were used to. Instead, one could hear the mighty mixed chorus performed by the insects of summer, which had to be an annoying impediment to sleep for unaccustomed people.

In the boy's case, this amount of noise was nothing special. He hadn't been traveling for three months merely for show.

However, there were situations that even the boy had trouble dealing with.

For instance when he was under immense mental pressure - like now, that the girl was sleeping on the futon right next to him.

He couldn't imagine the director doing something like this, so it probably was one of the secretary's jokes. Their two futons were placed tightly beside each other without any space between, which made it look like the scene of a wedding night.

But the secretary made a miscalculation. Surely she was expecting that he would blush like a tomato and move his futon away. Too bad, that was wrong. The boy was a healthy high schooler - such a sweet happening was rather exactly what he wished for. As long as it wouldn't make the girl scorn him.

He sat down next to their luggage and started preparing for their departure tomorrow while humming a song.

Since they wouldn't be able to take vegetables with them under this scorching sun, asking for some provisions was out of question. Thus, the problem concerning the food remained unsolved, but there was no use worrying about that now. There was nothing else they could do but stuff themselves as full as possible before departing.

But naturally there were things that had changed for the better since morning.

Namely, he had come upon a way to repair their Super Cub.

When he had gone searching the storage shed together with the director, they had found several usable parts. Even the type of the spark plug was the same, so it was easily conceivable that a Super Cub had been stored here in the past.

With those parts, it would certainly be possible to repair the bike.

"...ah."

He took their diary out of the luggage when he suddenly recalled it. Today was the girl's turn because the boy had written it yesterday. ''She's not going to wake up anyway, so I'll lay it next to her pillow.''

"Mhh? What is that book?"

The boy raised his head when someone suddenly posed such a question.

Through the crack that was left open in the sliding door, he could see the secretary with a candle in one hand. She was also carrying a towel, so she had probably just taken a bath. Her uncouth pajama in combination with her wet hair made her look sexy.

She entered the room curiously and cowered down beside the boy. He showed her a wry smile. 

"It's a diary. ...or perhaps I should call it a travelogue?"

"Is it the record of your journey?"

"Yes."

"This diary sure looks splendid, huh... is it foreign-made?"

A thick cover reinforced with brass. On top of that it even got a lock. If it weren't on a futon in a Japanese house, it would surely look exactly like a magical grimoire.

"Beats me. There was no price tag or any other label."

He cocked his head. Then he took out the key of the Super Cub, and the other key that was tied to it, and opened the seal of the book. On the page of yesterday one could see his peculiar handwriting.

"Yesterday's date... is this your writing?"

"Yes. We take turns at writing this diary, so the girl would be next today," he said with a wry smile and pointed at the soundly sleeping girl with his chin.

"Well, it seems like there is no helping it. I am sure she would get angry if we woke her up now."

"Last time I woke her up in such a situation, my punishment was a cobra twist. Next would be a roll-up I guess?"

The secretary laughed on hearing his confident answer.

"You don't have it easy either, do you?"

"But it's something I took on of my own accord. Just like you, secretary."

She evaded his nudge with a giggle. 

"My, my. What an impertinent child. Rather than being pretentious, you ought to take a bath and sleep."

The secretary turned elegantly and left the room. While watching her from behind, he put his hand to his chin. Not because he was bewitched by her smooth legs . No, he was pondering over something in her words that had attracted his attention.

"...Bath......"

First he looked at the sleeping girl.

"...Bath... huh..."

Then he looked in the direction of the bath.

He didn't need to ponder very long.

<div style="text-align: center;">✱</div>

The next day in the early morning by the door of the store.

The two travelers were preparing for an early departure because they wanted to go while the morning sun was still low in the horizon.

"We really can't thank you enough for your kindness," the girl bowed down and so did the boy hurriedly when he saw her doing so.

The boy had repaired the engine early in the morning and it was now humming like a kitten, making it seem as though a shaky old man had rejuvenated into a sportsman in his twenties. Judging from this, the engine was in top condition.

"We're sorry for making you even give us a breakfast after already receiving so much from you."

"No problem. It was a pleasure talking to young people once again. It is too bad that you will not stay for a little longer."

The boy smiled after seeing the secretary's cheerful smile.

"Well, but we're still on a journey."

"...I see. But feel free to visit us anytime."

"Yes. But that's going to be far in the future."

"...Come to think of it, I did not ask for your destination. Tell me, where is your journey headed?" asked the secretary.

The two of them exchanged glances and answered point-blank.

"To the end of the world!"

As expected, the secretary opened her eyes wide.

Their answer meant "heading to a place that does not exist". It meant that they did not mind never arriving at their destination. In other words, that they did not intend to ever stop their journey.

"You could use some food then, right?"

The director appeared from the glass door of the store and was carrying a giant object in his arms.

It was an unbelievably large melon with green and black stripes on its brilliant surface.

"Oh, well, maybe it's too watery to fill your stomaches, but I can guarantee this melon will taste terrific! I chose one that's going to be ripe in a few days because eating it right away would be no fun."

"Are you serious?! ...this is awesome... just... how do we get it on the bike?"

The boy accepted the melon hesitatingly, but realized that it was as heavy as he had predicted. Not so heavy that it would be comparable to his own weight, but still not something to carry around easily.

"Can't you just use a net?", the girl suggested and took out a net from the bundle for their sleeping equipment, which they used to use as a hammock. Wobbly on his legs, the boy put the heavy melon down next to the bike.

"No, what I mean is where do we put it? The pillion is already occupied by you, the front is full, too, and the side bag may still be empty, but think about the balance..."

"All right, I'll go get another melon for balance!"

The secretary slammed the director with her elbow when he made this suggestion. ''Geez, in contrast to such a high position, he never learns.''

"But surely... we could hold the balance with some water on the opposite site..."

While the boy cut off the engine and started taking off their luggage, trying out some things, the secretary secretly approached the girl.

Slightly away from the director, who was assisting the boy, their talk among women began.

"...Listen up, girl. Men are like wolves, so mark my words!"

"A... ahahaha... I'll bear that in mind."

She had been told the same thing several times already since their decision to depart.

"First, never sleep in the same bed as him whatever may happen! There is a saying that teaches you not to sleep with boys after reaching the age of seven!"

"I wouldn't dream of it!"

The mouth of the girl was quickly covered.

[[Image:Tabi_ni_Deyou_P0070.jpg|thumb|The secretary grasped her shoulders.]]
The secretary evaded the suspicious glance of the director and put her arm around the girl.

"...furthermore, be careful not to fall asleep before him!"

"You sound like a veteran housewife," the girl countered annoyed.

The secretary grasped her shoulders.

"And girl! Should you ever fall in love with each other and have ''you-know-what'', ALWAYS USE A RUBBER!"

"Shut UP!!"

The girl thrust her away with a vengeance and the secretary landed hard on her back.

The boy, who had stolen some glances on them, cocked his head.

"They're being pretty noisy right now. Are our girls having some problem?"

"Better not mind them. They are a kind that will remain a riddle to us men for all eternity."

"Somehow it sounds extremely persuasive and unpersuasive at the same time when you say that, director..."

"Well, that's the difference in our life experience."

A grapple fight between the two females was just about to start in front of their eyes.

Since he was worried about the girl, the boy would have actually wanted to stop them, but as history has proven, the chances of success for interfering in a quarrel between women as a man are hopeless. At best, he would get roared at by both of them and be chased away. For sure.

Anyway, while praying for a peaceful draw between them, he somehow managed to succeed in getting the melon on the Super Cub.

He turned around to the loudly arguing girls.

"I'm done with the preparations! I somehow arranged our stuff so that the water keeps the balance."

Upon hearing him out, the girl instantly changed her attitude and rushed to him.

"Shall we depart then?"

"Okay... but are you all right?"

The boy took out a handkerchief and wiped her sweat. It was too early to be sweat-soaked - they were going to drive their motorbike under the blazing sun.

While the girl was loosening her necktie due to the heat, the boy put a half-helmet on her head and turned to their hosts.

"Alright, we're off then."

He gave them a nod and approached the bike.

"If you've had enough of the journey, feel free to visit us! Just in case, the strawberries will be ripe in May!"

"Roge~r!"

He kicked up the kickstand and got on the saddle, making the loose suspension of the Super Cub sink down deeply.

After that, the girl took a seat on the pillion, so the height of their bike was quite a bit lower than usual.

"Will Cubby really be fine like this? It's not going to break in two, right?"

"Who knows...? No, I'm sure there's no prob!"

It was not clear whether he sneered spiritedly or sighed distressedly, but the sound of the engine after turning the key wiped such worries away in an instant.

The boy couldn't suppress a smile when he felt the slight but powerful vibration of the single cylinder.

"...it won't get broken again underway, I trust?"

"Don't worry! OK, let's get going."

"Mhm. Got it."

She fastened the chin strap and held onto his waist.

The boy checked on her with a brief glance and looked ahead again.

"Let's GO!"

He opened the throttle wide and drove away.

At first the bike drove zig-zag due to the heavy luggage and passengers, but this settled quickly as they gained speed. The director and secretary, who were waving their hands, became smaller and smaller and eventually disappeared because of the rise and fall of the road.

While smoothly accelerating, they could at last drive their little motorbike again on this lonely road in the meadows.

It was seven in the morning and still summer. Bathing in the blazing light of the as usual brightly shining sun, another day of chasing after "escaping water" was about to start.

===Interlude===

"...Boy?"

The girl raised her voice a while after they had departed.

"Mhm?"

"...the director mentioned that the strawberries will be ripe in May next year, right?"

"...Yeah."

"Do you think he will last until then?"

"...I don't know. But indeed. What will happen first? His 'disappearance' or the strawberry harvest?"

"..."

There was silence between them for a while. The girl held tightly onto him.

''Hang in there, secretary. Hang in there!''

The wind of the Super Cub carried her voice away and, maybe without reaching anyone, disappeared in the summery asphalt.

<div style="text-align: center;">✱</div>

The Super Cub's several-horsepower engine kept running just fine even after the store of the director had disappeared below the horizon. The scenery that unfolded on both sides wasn't very different from what they had walked past the day before, but this time it was rather refreshing thanks to their speed. The sunlight still had a death-ray quality, but the fresh breeze eased it greatly.

"...by the way. Boy?"

The girl suddenly addressed him. With a cold voice at that.

"Yes. How may I help you, madam?"

"Could you tell me why I can smell the soft fragrance of soap from your body?"

The boy grew pale in an instant.

"Don't you think this is strange...? I mean, '<i>I</i>' didn't have the occasion to take a bath. Why oh why?"

"...last night... after you fell asleep... I m-mean, you'd have gotten angry if I woke you up......ugh?!"

The girl wrapped her fingers around his neck.

"I see. Do you have anything left to say?"

"W-Wait a-"

She squeezed.

"Ungh!

"You wicked DEVIL!! Do you know when I had my last bath?! It's been more than A WEEK!! Can you imagine this agony?! Oh feel the distress of a girl that couldn't wash her hair for over a week!!"

Even while the remainder of the boy's life was slowly drained by her firm grip on his neck, the silver Super Cub continued its way on the dead straight road with a powerful sound.

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|-
| Back to [[Tabi_ni_Deyou:Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[Tabi ni Deyou, Horobiyuku Sekai no Hate Made|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Tabi_ni_Deyou:Wings|Wings]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume3 Chapter1

2017-09-27T17:55:32Z

Yasharjitm10: /* Chapter 1: Imperial Capital Departure */

==Chapter 1: Imperial Capital Departure==
===Part 1===
A sparrow wandered astray over the stone pavings.

It cocked its head once, twice, perplexed by a feeling of estrangement and then flapped its wings in a fluster.

Immediately following, a gust of wind rushed past as a gigantic shadow soared overhead. At a glance, it might be seen as a living creature. Its long neck, a ferocious face baring its fangs, and its large wings spread at its sides—a wyvern.

Alas, things like winged dragons did not inhabit this continent. Its howl, shrill as the creaking of metal, sounded from the humming of its ether engine, and its skin was the weightless metal, dragonstone, lightly painted over in bronze. Namely, this was the Mephius Empire’s airship.

These man-made wyverns carrying pilots in their bosoms took off from the ground in succession.

Orba looked up to watch them, his hand forming a visor over his eyes.

Flying front was the man named Neil Thompson, and simply being fairly skilled made him stand out greatly above the rest. Neil beautifully tilted the ship’s wings to a turn as the other ships frantically chased after it, like chicks straying from its mother.

But the one Orba hurled words of anger towards amongst them following their momentary return was Neil.

“This is no place to make a show of your theatrics! Pay more attention to the others! You won’t be able to do anything by yourself on the battlefield. Now, have another go.”

Pressed on by Orba—or to them, the first crown prince of the Imperial Dynasty of Mephius, Gil Mephius—the pilots hurriedly launched off to the skies in their ships once more.

“You don’t have to be so snappy, do you? I think they’re doing on the better side.”

Orba roughly shook off Shique who came snuggling onto his shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter how well they do for ‘slaves’. You think I can be satisfied with such a level?”

The parade ground near the Imperial Guards’ barracks, a small-scale gladiator arena was rebuilt. Small as it may be called, its extensive interior housed an airship runway and to add, was situated beside the dragons’ stable.

“But you know, Orba,” the bronzen faced Gowen spoke, “it’s not even been a month since you started the airship unit. There’s not much you can do even if you’re running out of patience.”

“I wouldn’t have expected to hear that from you. You’re the one who sent me out to kill in under two weeks of teaching me how to hold a sword.”

“There’s no meaning in using slaves as a comparison, is there?” Gowen replied, directing Orba’s words back at him. “There are different circumstances now compared to then. You can’t buy however much of them as you want.”

Even if these former slaves didn’t fall behind soldiers in terms of individual skill, they had trouble cooperating in numbers. And it was because it was Gowen, who was retraining the infantry comprising of the swords slaves from scratch, saying this that these words held persuasive power.

Orba said no more. His face twisted slightly in pain as he moved to cross his arms. His right arm was dressed in bandages and stood hanging.

—Roughly half a month had passed since the disturbance caused by Zaat Quark’s rebellion. Injured from the series of battles during the gladiator’s tournament and to further add, being shot by Zaat Quark, his body naturally had yet to recover. However one week prior, Orba was summoned by the emperor and ordered to head for the southern city of Apta—the land taken in the ten year strife with Garbera and the very fortress city his brother Roan had been drafted to. There was no time for him to allow his body to rest. Just when Shique and Gowen thought he was holing himself up in his room buried under a mountain of books, they’d find him zealously directing the Imperial Guard’s training like so.

“Ah, there you go, quiet again.” Shique shrugged his shoulders in jest. “We get indescribably uneasy when you turn silent. I can’t help thinking that you might be getting weird thoughts again.”

At that time, a lively voice sounded.

“A wonderful sight, isn’t it!”

When he heard this voice which was out of place in this brutish location, Orba’s face tensed for some reason.

Gowen and Shique were slightly amused at seeing this and shifted their gaze taking a smile.

“It pains me to say that it is not anything much for a proper lady to see.”

The one they laid sight on was Garbera’s third princess, Vileena Owell, accompanied by her maid Theresia. Her platinum hair shone a transparent white under the morning sun. She had been forced into the women’s chambers since her coming to Mephius, but with her efforts flying the airship together with the prince during Zaat’s rebellion, she seemed to have been given a relative amount of freedom as of late. Two days ago after mentioning how the Imperial Guards were doing air training at breakfast, she had exclaimed ‘I simply must watch’.

The young girl’s eyes squinted as they followed the airships’ movements, and her cheeks flushed lightly.

''She’s an unusual princess.''

Orba strongly reaffirmed this thought.

After the mission at Apta ended, they would formally become married—as Emperor Guhl had declared, but that was ultimately only said to Gil and not openly announced. With the progress in discussions over the wedding obscure, Vileena was as she had always been, in an insecure position.

“His Highness is a perfectionist after all,” Shique commented, intentionally returning to the previous conversation. “He tells them ‘fly shoulder to shoulder with the Garberan airship platoon’ within under a month of training.”

“I didn’t—”

—say that, he tried to refute, but before he could continue...

“There is always a beginning to everything. Air training in particular comes with accidents. If you do not pay careful attention to the pilots’ condition, the ship’s maintenance and such, then your platoon will assuredly be destroyed before you can achieve its desired growth, your Highness.”

With regard to airships, Vileena was an expert. She spoke proudly in a sharp tone with her childish face.

“But there also isn’t much time left until departure.”

Orba averted his gaze from Vileena who tried to confront him directly.

“Is it not all right if you also perform them in Apta, your Highness?” Shique said. “It’s as if you believe, Ax might try to commence war the very day we arrive in Apta.”

Zaat’s rebellion had been quelled by Orba’s hand, but because it happened during the founding festival where a good number of envoys had been invited, news of it reached the surrounding countries. Furthermore, there were reports of suspicious activity from the Taúlia province located southwest to Mephius around the same time.

Taúlia bordered the Aptan region. It was probable, Taúlia’s governing general, Ax Bazgan, would target the moment Apta was returned by Garbera and advance his army there.

However, with Zaat’s rebellion, Guhl Mephius was in a precarious situation where he could not trust his retainers, even those serving him longest. For that reason, Guhl had appointed his born son, Gil, to be the commander of Apta’s troops, deeming it inappropriate to divide his troops to fend off invasion.

“It’ll only be trouble if I don’t get them ready as soon as possible. I’ve realised since Zaat’s incident. No matter how peacefully we may have joined with Garbera, the flames of dissent are always at our feet even within our country’s borders. There’s no harm in being too prepared.”

“Speaking of Zaat Quark, I have not seen Ineli since the incident. Have you met with her since then, prince?”

“Ineli?”

The unexpected name left Orba half startled. “No.” He shook his head. Vileena angrily knit her eyebrows.

“Please also pay some attention to things outside of military affairs. Being taken prisoner by Zaat surely must have given her a fright. Is she not shutting herself in her room? I have been meaning to visit her, but what say you we go together?”

“Well, that is…”

Orba wasn’t sure what to say. As Vileena had mentioned, Ineli was taken prisoner by Zaat in the midst of the uproar. And in front Orba and Vileena who went to save her, she had a gun thrust at her. But what went through Orba’s mind now wasn’t that, but the scene he had seen at the party during the founding festival; the one where Ineli and Vileena glared at one another by the fountain.

The Garberan princess seemed to have already long forgotten their discord, but as for Ineli, he didn’t believe she would be as forgiving. Rather, judging from her personality, being saved by the Vileena she hated and so detested, she would have felt it humiliating.

“I think it’s best if you don’t.”

“Why do you say so?”

“Well, the thing is, if she’s received a shock from that incident, it’s best to gently leave it alone. If either I or the princess go see her, it might bring back the memories and do more harm than good.”

“See, princess? It’s as I told you.” Theresia said. “I am of the same opinion of as His Highness. It’s best to quietly leave Ineli alone precisely if you’re worried about her.”

“What is this. The prince, and Theresia as well, are treating my feelings as if they were an oblivious child’s.”

Her face quickly fell into a sulk and she stomped her small feet against the ground. In fact, it was because it was exactly as she said that Orba was lost for words. She was overall a quick-witted princess albeit young, but when it came to the subtleties in personal relations, she was poorly informed.

Orba unintentionally sent a look over to Theresia.

''It must be tough.''

The princess’ maid was momentarily surprised, then slightly turned her eyes down and chuckled in agreement.

''Damn it!''

Orba was also surprised. He had expressed his sentiments towards Theresia, but it was as ‘Orba’. Not the crown prince. That was probably why Theresia had also been surprised.

“Now,” Orba spoke up in an attempt to try to smooth things over. “I will, then, patiently wait out the airship unit’s results. I, am going to check out the dragon’s situ—”

Orba turned to look at the dragon’s stable by the parade ground, but right at that moment, he saw several figures heading this way. In front, skipping her way towards them, was a petite girl. Coming up to Orba, Lannie Lorgo stopped and tugging her skirt, made a bow.

“Fare greetings, your Imperial Highness.”

“Aah.”

She was daughter of Mephius’ general, Odyne Lorgo, and thirteen years old. Though a young girl, she had saddled on top a dragon’s back during the founding festival and carried out the coming-of-age ceremony.

“Hurry and come over. Oh Romus, even though you’re not afraid of dragons, you’re helplessly shy around people.”

She loudly called over the young boy timidly toddling behind. As always, his greetings in front of the prince were soft.

“Really, you’re spineless.”

“No, it’s not that he’s spineless, but that milady here is strong,” Orba jested. “Your courage is promising. However, the dragons’ stable isn’t suitable as a playground.”

“Oh my. It’s not that we are strolling around here for no apparent reason, prince,” Lannie responded disapprovingly in a lady-like manner. “Romus has been coming here everyday and as his senior I’ve gotten concerned for him.”

“Oh? Is Romus aspiring to be a dragoon?”

“He is not, your highness. Romus, you’re really here for the dragon, aren’t you? It’s not that you’re longing to become a dragoon, right?”

“W-what’s that to do with you.”

Romus’ face reddened. There was one other coming from the dragon stable’s direction. The dragon trainer Hou Ran was assigned as part of the prince’s Imperial Battalion. It seemed she was looking over the dragoon’s training. Even if she wasn’t, she was usually here at the stable caring for the dragons all day.

“There’s no need to worry about Romus.”

Ran said outright, as if she had heard the conversation from start to end.

“He’s gotten even more used to dragons than Orba. In another half year, he might be able to hear and understand their ‘voice’. There’s little to no chance he will get attacked even at the dragon’s stable.”

Theresia breathed a gasp of wonder. She found not only Ran’s nomadic appearance unusual, but also the combination of her proportional body, dark skin, and pale hair to be strangely alluring.

“If that’s what you say, I’m sure that’s how it is. How is the dragoons’ condition? And have you sorted the dragons we will take with us to Apta?”

“I can somehow manage if I’m with them. As long as they’re within my eye’s reach. No one here has even a fragment of Romus’ talent. More than sorting the dragons Orba will need to sort the soldiers.”

“R-Right.”

“Also, aren’t the dragons we’re bring with us a bit too many to not be using the carrier? With the numbers Orba’s said, it’s more than I can manage.”

“Not using the carrier?”

Shique raised his voice in alarm.

“Why? Marching to Apta in file will take a week. Transporting the dragons and weapons would also be more convenient with a carrier.”

“Because I want to be seen off and cheered by the people.”

Orba’s response was blunt. It was times like these his behaviour denoted a reluctance to voice his thoughts any further. Because Shique and Gowen understood this, they made no further protest, bearing a look that said ''here we go again.''

“''Orba'', is it.”

But Princess Vileena’s attention seemed to be hung on something else. The thought “oh crap” could be read on the prince’s face.

“A considerable amount of trust sure is placed on that swordsman. It was also the case at the founding festival, but it seems he has been tasked with several important duties this time as well.”

“Ah, yeah. He’s...handy.”

Orba gibbered, stealthily sneaking a glare at Ran’s direction. Vileena became slightly indignant.

“However, he appeared to have been injured a good deal from the arena. Although you yourself prince have also suffered injuries, how about you heed your subjects a bit more.”

“Uh, yeah, you’re right.”

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v03 031.jpg|thumb]]

“Despite how strong a person you yourself may be, that is not always the case for others. Above all, prince, your numbers mustn’t diminish any more. If you don’t allow them a word and only have them quietly obey you, no matter how fine a swordsman Orba is, even he will eventually...”

“Ha!”

At that moment, Ran snorted. For an instant, everyone was bewildered by the almost outright scorn. Who this was directed towards they did not know.

“Orba seems to be rather favoured by the princess.”

Her lips swerved into a thin, open smile, and then she turned her back, promptly returning to the dragon’s housing. Romus hurriedly chased after her, and Lannie subsequently followed in a dash. Orba and everyone else saw them off stupefied.

“That young lady,” Theresia spoke shortly after adding in a cough, “isn’t she somewhat lacking in her manners? To act like that when the crown prince and Princess Vileena are present...”

“Ah. I’m truly ashamed. I apologize on behalf of my daughter’s discourtesy.”

The adopted father Gowen lowered his greying head. It was Orba’s first time seeing him bow down his large frame.

But Theresia also wasn’t truly angry. As evidence of that,

“That young lady,” she said once more, leaving a pause as if add weight, “Is she Sir Orba’s lover?”

“A-Absurd. —Why would you think that?”

“It is no such thing as absurd. I only felt that was how it was.”

“And I’m asking, why?”

“Now why, I wonder. I instead find the prince’s manner of disarray strangely odd. This might even be a harbinger of love for Sir Orba.”

Absurd! Orba muttered once more, facing away. He had known Hou Ran for over two years, but never noticed any attraction towards her. It might have been ''because'' he hadn’t, or that he ''shouldn’t'' have had any, that having this suddenly pointed out disturbed him.

For some time after, Orba and the others inattentively watched over the airship unit’s training. Shortly before the hour of noon, Vileena excused herself and Theresia from the platform. The princess would also be accompanying them to Apta. They had said there was still packing to be done.

When Orba finally thought he could take a breath of air, he overheard some unexpected words from Shique.

“The princess isn’t in too high of spirits is she.”

“Really? I don’t see any big difference from usual. If that’s her in low spirits, then the usual Vileena will be a far tougher opponent than Ryucown and Pashir.”

“Orba...right, you don’t understand the subtleties of women.”

“Does a misogynist have any right to say that?”

“It’s not that I hate them because I don’t understand them. It’s because I understand them too much that I hate them.”

Back at the days when he was a gladiator, Shique was exceptionally popular with women. There were many noblewomen piling up large sums of gold before the slave merchant Tarkas to be his patron. And to each and every one of them, Shique refused and snorted at them.

“Then again, it isn’t really that complicated. She probably knows about the rumours of ongoing tension between Garbera and Ende. Of course, she’s not a princess that wouldn’t grieve knowing of her home’s hardships.”

“It’s hard to say Garbera has fully recovered from Ryucown’s previous rebellion,” Gowen agreed. “It’s the same for Mephius, but at the least we were able to stop it before it occurred. To others, you could even say it’s been put out. But they experienced betrayal from one of their most famed generals. It’s certain to have a lasting effect.”

“I could care less about other countries’ troubles,” Orba promptly parted the remark. He then called the captain Neil back, bringing the training to an end. A separate unit was scheduled for training here after. With Pashir included, they consisted of the slaves from the recent rebellion whom Orba had added to his forces. Having once taken advantage of the opportunity provided by Zaat and attempting a rebellion, he could not just appoint them as regular soldiers and thus had designated them war slaves under the Imperial Guard’s command.

Orba had no business here. He had already earned the resentment of the slaves by having obstructed the rebellion, and had no intention of possibly aggravating them further by remaining to watch.

On this note, he entrusted their training to Gowen. A man originally a supervisor over sword slaves and versed in drills.

“I’ll leave the rest to you.”

“Aah.”

Orba double-timed out of the parade ground.

Shique, who had stayed behind, took notice of Gowen’s sudden masked snicker.

“What’s the matter?”

“No, it’s just how he said ‘I’ll leave the rest to you.’ That damn little squirt’s position has sure changed in under two years.”

“And he’s gotten frightfully used to it too.”

“The weird one isn’t only him, but me who’s also grown used to these positions.”

“Yeah.” Shique strangely broke into a grin. “I’m no longer surprised by anything he says or does. If I don’t get used to that, it’ll only ruin my health.”

As Shique gave his agreement with a smile, Gowen watched Orba’s retreating figure in the distance.

“It would be good if it was only a problem of getting used to. Lately, he’s been devoting himself too much to being the crown prince.”

That single phrase, heard by no one, disappeared into the blowing sand and wind.

Solon saw the coming of noon.

===Part 2===
‘Emperor Guhl Mephius has stopped smiling.’ Orba had lost count how many times he had heard these murmurings inside the palace.

The former emperor often joked in front of his retainers and filled the halls with his jovial voice—he’d heard. Orba himself had only met with him a handful of times since pretending to be his actual son, so he didn’t know of this ‘former’ emperor.

Most notably, the emperor didn’t so much as chuckle after Zaat’s rebellion. His lips swerved into frowns, and he constantly rest his face against his hands in ill humour.

''I get chills every time he looks at me.''

These whispers he had also heard countlessly.

The emperor worked endlessly towards increasing the imperial family’s—or more precisely, the emperor’s—authority.

“There is no longer anyone who can make a single objection to His Majesty.”

Fedom had muttered shortly before with a near trembling face.

“If these were vassals such as Colyne satisfied with readily following orders, that might be good in itself...however, for prideful nobles like myself who harbour the slightest thought for Mephius’ future, should even that pride be considered a nuisance that we may be dismissed by the emperor, we might as well be dead.”

''There’s Simon Rodloom.''

Orba first conjured that name. At the time of the festival when Orba joined the emperor for breakfast, he had stated his own opinions without fear of the emperor. Whatmore, it was directly after Zaat had been confined.

''If it’s that man, wouldn’t he fearlessly oppose the emperor without thought of personal gain or self-protection when necessary?''

''Hm?—''

Orba twisted his lips, taken by these mysterious thoughts. He would have never believed himself to recognise a Mephian noble even a little bit as a person back when he was a gladiator.

Currently directly in front of Orba, his head bowed continuing his prayers with his eyes fixed on no particular point, was that very emperor, Guhl Mephius.

At the Black Tower, centre of the imperial capital of Solon.

The soldiers assigned as lookouts recognised Orba and gave a bow. They were his guide and proceeded towards the tower’s underground. They passed by numerous people. They were half bare men carrying excavated rocks and rubble. Most were slaves or criminals.

In this underground was a certain Dragon God Mausoleum, currently in the midst of construction. While the Dragon God’s Temple was being built in a location closer to the palace, the entirety of the mausoleum would be transferred here.

The emperor was ahead at their place of destination. He stood before an enormous carving depicting the Dragon God’s form. This was the place they held the rituals to pray for abundant harvests directly before the festival had begun. This painting would also eventually be carved out and be established within the temple.

Orba politely gave words of greeting, but the emperor replied with only a grunt and nod, and occupied himself in issuing orders to the surrounding people.

He waited for a time—a long time.

Ten minutes must have passed, when the emperor stepped forth from the row of people. Orba once again lowered his head.

“I will set out the day after tomorrow.”

“I see.”

The emperor passed by him showing no signs of stopping, but then suddenly halted and peered into Orba’s face.

“You’re growing more and more to resemble your mother.”

“Ha, hahah. I-Is that so?”

Even the famed gladiator found himself dripping in cold sweat. Then the emperor resumed walking again and Orba followed behind.

“It is not only your face. There are many who say you’ve changed into a different person, and it’s them following with such compliments as saying you’ve inherited my blood that irk me so.”

“I only received advice from my men.”

Behind and in front of them were Imperial Guards directly under the emperor assigned guard, but they kept their distance. Within the naturally chilly cave workings, the surroundings fell into an eerie silence as the voices and figures of the slaves grew further.

“Was that also the same with regards to Zaat? You happened to get advice from someone? Surely it wasn’t from me. I wasn’t given a single notice.”

“Yes. N-no, I mean—the one who planned it was me. Only, I was somewhat uneasy over my own thoughts and went to Fedom to receive his wisdom. However, I had consulted him without mentioning Zaat’s name, nor informing him of the situation’s urgency, merely as an assumption,” Orba quickly replied.

“And whose suggestion was it to purposely aim at the time of Zaat’s rebellion? Had I been immediately notified, I could have quietly subdued Zaat without the ambassadors and guests from abroad noticing.”

The emperor stopped walking. There was no path ahead, only a cliff looming 50 metres tall. The dim light of a single candle placed on the walls flickered over the shadow cast on the emperor’s face.

“I do not plan to excuse myself for my actions. I wanted...an accomplishment that would make me be recognized by many. I didn’t consider the lives of the soldiers and ambassadors—It was thoughtless of me. I beg your forgiveness.”

“That’s wrong, isn’t it?”

The emperor flatly concluded. He refaced Orba, who took a deep gulp.

“No, it ''is'' wrong. You don’t trust in ''me''.”

“I-I wouldn’t—”

“You only wanted an accomplishment? If there is a part of you that has changed, it’s how you would even dare mouth such as insolent excuse towards me above all.”

The recesses of his eyes reflected the colour of the flames, and seemed to wrap around his body and soul like a snake. Orba said nothing, only shamefully lowering his head.”

“I see. So a dragon’s child is a dragon. For we imperials who succeed the blood of the Dragon God Mephius, it may be that even you cannot forever stay a dragonling.”

The word’s echo held neither conceit nor scorn. The emperor walked towards Orba who continued facing down.

“However, it seems you take much more strongly after your mother than I. It’s not only your face, but your character. In the end you stray from the Mephius imperial customs and are unable to open you heart to me; you’ve inherited that frail trait.”

After gazing into his face one last time, he passed his shoulder.

“Very well. If you’ve begun to sprout a dragon’s wings, then I’ll have you match up to that expectation and keep Ax Bazgan in place. After two weeks, Oubary’s forces shall join yours. If it’s to protect the fortress alone, those forces should be more than sufficient.”

''Oubary.''

At that moment, a single hot flame lit within Orba’s chilled heart.

Amongst the forces Orba was bringing to Apta, there would also be fifty men borrowed from Oubary’s Black Helmet Division. Oubary himself would be dispatched to the southeastern parts of Mephius along with his 500 men. Several days after Zaat’s rebellion, slaves revolted in the southeastern Kiluro, and he had been tasked with suppressing them.

During the uproar at the Grand Stadium, Oubary had disappeared quite quickly, resulting in doubts and animosity from the emperor and statesmen. It had therefore become hard for him to stay in Solon and he also likely wanted to use this to wipe clean his bad name.

“Use them as you please. You may wield your powers as commander to your heart’s content. In return, I won’t have any complaint no matter the circumstance. Either way, you consider me beneath your notice. Any worry would be meaningless.”

The emperor receded away from Orba into the distance along with his ringing echo, this time it being rich in ridicule. Orba breathed a sigh of relief, grateful he had somehow managed to end this without his identity being exposed. At the same time, an unfamiliar feeling passed him.

''Are fathers...''

''Are all fathers meant to be like this? That they hate and deplore their own sons—or is it because they are nobles that they’re so strange.''

Orba held no memories of his father. However, he did know the faces of everyone in his home village. There were a mountain of adults that looked after him like a father. There were those who severely scolded his troublemaker self, and then also those who laughed, telling him how they were also the same in the past. Back during those days, Orba thought they were all annoying, but now having lost even that, he found the memories even a little nostalgic.

“Father.”

Urged by the heated flame lit within him, Orba suddenly called out to the emperor.

“What?”

Turning around, his face displayed a candid annoyance. Orba slowly raised his downturned eyes.

“If I may ‘use them as I please’, then I take it you don’t mind if I use those forces to take Ax’s head.”

“What?”

“And on the break of that dawn that I may also have the fortress city Taúlia Ax occupies.”

A still, heavy silence weighed on Orba’s shoulders.

Some tens of seconds later,

“You nitwit!”

The emperor shouted as loud as permitted him. And then he burst into a welling laughter.

“You nitwit, I said you could do as you pleased. Go ahead! I’d like to see this dunce of a dragonling that can barely flap his wings try!”

Because of standing rumours that the emperor had stopped smiling, even the distant imperial soldiers had come running in surprise at the sound of his bursting laughter. Stopping them with the raise of his hand, the emperor gave a further sneer and departed.

In the little remaining time before his departure, Orba was drowned in the flood of documents, books, and papers delivered to his room.

These documents listed the names of the commanding officers and captains amongst the soldiers accompanying him. Amongst the members of the Black Helmet Division was Bane’s name. He was someone Orba had incidentally requested when speaking with the assistant commander of the Black Helmet Division over the party’s formation. At that time, the date for Oubary’s main forces to set out was also drawing near, and any conflicting opinions being a waste of time may have been why it was easily agreed to.

In terms of ability, Bane was nothing much. Over the course of six years, his position had stopped at captain, meaning he most likely earned barely any achievements in the ten year war. But for Orba, there was reason for his irrepressible want for him.

And amongst the war slaves, Pashir’s name was of course present. In the days following the founding festival’s ‘Clovis’ Dragon Extermination’ Orba had not met him once, but according to Gowen’s testimony, he was obediently undergoing practice and drills at the time being. Also present, as the war slaves’ steward, was the name of Mira, who’d also attended the sword slaves at Solon’s grand stadium.

The rest he roughly glanced over. At the end of the list were the names of aspiring applicants that either wanted to join Orba’s forces or take on administrative roles in Apta. The majority were of noble descent; names of poor nobles or late sons of prestiged houses.

“Even though they’re the same nobles, they seem to each have their own circumstances.”

The chamberlain, Dinn, brought over a fresh batch of books to him.

“My arms are already swollen.” The boy winced from looking at the mountain of books stacked high in the room.

“Don’t tell me you plan on training even me and sending me out to the battlefield.”

“You said it.” 

Orba took a newly delivered book into his hand and flipped through its pages. It contained mostly the histories of countries neighbouring Mephius and compiled summaries of their current state and situation.

After what happened with Noue and Zaat, Orba fully realised he had absolutely no knowledge on these matters. Information was crucial in battles. He had experienced this first hand in his childhood days, and since then Orba always wanted to gather as much information on hand as possible. Of course, storing up information alone wasn’t enough, but having information provided from others’ thoughts and perspectives would affect the very breadth of his thinking.

“What about ''that''? There’s little of the vital information.”

“Do you mean of the current state of Taúlia and the western provinces? I’ve also been looking for them in as many ways as possible. What currently exist are only second hand copies based on a few books originating from countries to the northern coast. I admit even these books are outdated.”

“Why?”

“Mephian trade with the western world—in other words, the Tauran provinces—is banned. The former Zer Tauran was a country raised by the Bazgans, once Mephian vassals. Even now after Zer Tauran’s collapse, the Bazgan House continues to skirmish with us, and the other provinces are also ruled by Zer Tauran successors.”

“But even then...no, it’s for this reason that he should at least send tens or even a hundred spies over.”

“Please say that directly to His Majesty. I have nothing to do with it.”

“If speaking directly with him would have had any effect, I would’ve learned everything I needed to from the start.”

Orba further flipped through the pages.

''Strange.''

Feeling an inconsistency, he stopped his hands.

It wasn’t about how the emperor hadn’t handed him information on the west.

“Trade with the west is banned? How many years ago was this?”

“More than years, it should be decades, or even over a century. I don’t believe we ever signed a ceasefire or peace treaty since the Zer Tauran days.”

“Reeaalllyy.”

Closing the book, Orba stretched his legs over the table. “Here you go again,” Dinn reprimanded but Orba did not budge. Once he started thinking, he would not break from the forest of thoughts until he came up with his own solution.

Dinn had grown used to it.

“Come along now, prince. Before you turn silent from your thoughts, please state what foods you would prefer. The palace master chef should take even more time, and I’ll have you know I won’t take ‘Anything’s fine’ for an answer!”

Dinn could do nothing but perform his own duties to his best.

===Part 3===
The Solon west gates bustled with crowds coming to see off Prince Gil and his troops.

The group of cavaliers moving headfirst waved their spearflags while responding to the people’s cheers with waves of their hands.

Amongst those selected within the Imperial Guards was Shique. With vexingly good looks for a man, the refreshing figure of him mounted on his horse had particularly fanned the women and children’s heated cries.

As the dragoons under Oubary and the artillerymen under Odyne Lorgo went, the carriage carrying Princess Vileena came into sight along with the clattering sounds of its wheels. The joyous cheers as Vileena smiled and waved her hands out the window were noticeably high.

And as a new group of horsemen appeared behind as if guarding her rear, the streets were filled with a series of stirs different from previous ones.

Saddled on his gallant white horse, was Mephius’ crown prince Gil Mephius. His silver armour lavishly reflected the sun’s rays as if emitting a powerful radiance. And contrastively to his side was a black horse. Mounted was the iron masked gladiator. The pair was sent a frenzied applause.

“Gil-sama!”

“Prinncccee!”

“Look, it’s the ‘Clovis’, Orba!”

The combination of the young prince who rescued the country from a rebellion and his faithful masked warrior was a story worth passing down and heightened their popularity amongst the people.

Gil had limited himself to releasing one hand from the reins and lightly raising it, but Orba, probably unable to withstand the storm of cheers, wildly waved both arms, and suddenly stood straight up with both feet on the stirrup while having his horse do a light jump. Because the response was tremendous, he got carried away and did it multiple times, and in the end was nearly about to slip off the stirrup and fall.

“You idiot!” The mounted Gil—of course, this was the real Orba—shouted at him with a flushed face. “Behave yourself.”

The scolded Orba—the Imperial Guard Kain, who could also be said to be Orba’s body double—dejectedly dropped his shoulders. The cheers completely turned into a downpour of laughter.

“Well, I guess this could also be a form of extravagant publicity as we set out.”

Above the ramparts enclosing the gates was also the figure of Fedom Aulin.

He was the lord of Birac, but ever since he had disguised Orba as the prince, he had yet to return to his land even once. Although his family had also come to Solon for the festival, even when it was time for his wife and children to go back, he had insisted on staying in Solon, saying ‘I still have work to be done’.

“The prince has raised his name from his campaign against Ryucown and the incident with Zaat.” A tall young man, who at a glance appeared to be a boarder, whispered to him from beside. “This trend will make a good impetus for the people. It also denotes the continuation of the imperial family’s dignity.”

“Hmph—There are other ways if they care about their dignity. Look at those troops. They appear to be keeping their interval, but in the end they’re a poorly patched bunch. Former sword slaves acting as imperial guards, war slaves that had only recently attempted rebellion, and a mere hundred nominated soldiers; if an army from Taúlia truly marched in at full might, forget a month, it’s unlikely they’d even last three days.”

Fedom did not see eye to eye with the rumours regarding Ax Bazgan’s suspicious movements. If the emperor Guhl was fully certain that Ax would come attack Apta then he would have reinforced the army a bit more.

''I can’t imagine he would let him die this openly without batting an eye.''

Fedom bitterly clicked his tongue as he heard the yet unceasing cheers towards Prince Gil. What set him impatient now most above all was the piece of news that claimed Guhl’s second wife Melissa was pregnant. It was no more than a rumour whispered within the palace, but if it were to be true, then he would change his stand on how he viewed this treatment towards the prince.

''Curse you Guhl. Do you intend to distance the prince who has gained a rise in popularity from the centre of politics?''

He was irritated. Fedom Aulin was the perpetrator who had concealed the death of the actual Gil Mephius and set up the former gladiator Orba as a substitute. Of course, this was a large crime that if discovered would sentence his entire family and all those serving him to death. He continued his days coming off nights of insufficient sleep rushed by an impatience to get things done even a day sooner.

However, because Fedom originally took the stance of the anti-imperial faction, he required a different faction that would support the prince. He would have to gather those discontented towards the current emperor and ''not'' towards the very system of imperials, and who dreamed of advancement through a new order established under Prince Gil—a strengthened rectification of the country’s foundation, so to speak—if he did not want to end up like Ryucown who invested his life into a futureless rebellion.

Now, when things were finally beginning to take shape after discreetly taking ventures, and on a few occasions with ones dire enough to chill him down to his marrow, that Prince Gil was to be sent far off to the outlands that was also as well the country’s borders.

Naturally, he was not going to give up from this. In Fedom’s eyes, it might even be a good thing if a battle occurred at Apta once. Were the emperor to hesitate sending reinforcements during the prince’s crisis, then that would serve a common cause that might make it possible to remove the emperor from his seat.

''The two weeks before Oubary’s forces join them will be the determiner, will it.''

Then Fedom’s concern was on Orba who was more than likely to go off acting on his own and completely disregard his distresses. Then again, there ''was'' the difference in strength of forces and to add, his own forces were a cobbled together band that he could scarcely hope to take command of, so he shouldn’t really be able to move about as he pleased.

“Still—that rascal, he parted with some strange words.”

Directly before he departed, Orba had made Fedom an odd request. His troops would continue moving towards Apta by foot, it seemed. ‘I’d like you to let our flagship Doom temporarily anchor in Birac,’ Orba said.

“I’ll also leave a few winged dragon officers along with it. You can just leave the ship as is. They’ll move the ship when I’ll need it.”

“Why would you again do something so tedious?”

“It’s the thing called preparation. Don’t worry, just because you won’t be there doesn’t mean I’ll stop being his body double. The real prince should be remaining in Solon either way. I don’t know who’s targeting him, but you might as well look after him.”

“You seem to have grown quite fond of this game of war, prince.”

Fedom was busy carrying out his own plans.

“Be sure not to let your schemes get the better of you. If all you’re going to do is fortify the fortress’ defences, I won’t say a word. But just you try running rampant with your arbitrary actions and exceeding my patience. At that time...”

“I get it, Lord Fedom Aulin.”

Orba smiled lightly. Fedom had, to be honest, felt a shudder from that smile.

''He resembles him,'' he had thought.

Not the real Gil Mephius. Instead, that moment Fedom felt him the splitting image of the father, Guhl Mephius, despite his appearance being entirely the same as Gil.

Before long the troops exited the gate and the cheers gradually came to a halt.

Fedom also began to leave and quickly called out to the young man who stood at the same spot as him.

“What’s wrong, Hermann. Is there something you’re uneasy about?”

The magician servant, gently turned his head.

The man’s face was expressionless, and Fedom had long been unable to read him. Though there were times he appeared a young man, depending on the angle of lighting, there were times he appeared to far exceed Fedom in age. Fedom perked his fleshy shoulders.

“We also have a mountain of preparations to do. Many of them will require your insight. For the time being I won’t forgive you going off on your own.”

“I do understand, milord.”

Hermann lightly nodded, but, as he was about to make his leave, he cast his glance once more across the walls towards the road the prince and his troops departed on.

''“Hmm.”''

He murmured in a small voice inaudible to even Fedom.

''“‘His’ fate is certainly to move largely riding the ‘gale’. That speed is faster than my eyes can grasp.”''

''But—Oh my.''

''How strange. The ‘gale’ is certainly blowing and I can unmistakably see its direction. But the destination of the crucial ‘he’—this single future step, is darkly shut. What could this possibly—?''

In this time of the year, Solon’s skies were clear. The untempered sunlight shone on the prince and his party’s armour and the resulting row of bending lights faded into the distance. Not too long after, they could no longer be seen from even the tallest of Solon’s towers.

“Have they gone?”

As for the emperor Guhl, he had not even gone to see them off and spent the entire time in his personal room performing various miscellaneous tasks.

“Yes.”

The one responding was the former council president, Simon Rodloom.

“The prince is certainly in high spirits. He has unmistakably put his all in adorning his men in uniform.”

“He’s still a child, that one.”

“I quite enjoy it. Rather, it is by outstripping those childish traits one by one that he can steadily climb the steps towards adulthood.”

“You are patient,” the emperor grunted. ”In politics and in parenting both. What will you do about the problem of Rodloom house’s successor?”

“Well,”

Simon smiled bashfully.

He had two daughters; both of which were already married. Normally one would have entered one of the two husbands into the family register, but Simon had yet to decide. He had no particular qualms about their pedigree or personality but…

“I’m afraid if I rush the decision, I’ll grow old all at once.”

“How like you, Simon.”

The emperor nodded in assent without so much a laugh.

''Is His Majesty tired?''

Sometimes his emotions were fierce, such that they were as glaring as the Dragon God’s vigour, and just as frequently, sometimes his responses were like a completely withered flame.

“Two days back, if I remember correctly,” the emperor spoke, taking the chance to close his eyes, “Princess Vileena petitioned for an audience. What reason do you think for?”

“What could it be?...The case between Ende and Garbera, perhaps?”

“That may be. However, she did not touch on it with a single word and expressed her intent to give a farewell greeting. At the end she declared, ‘In the near future, my fathers will number two. May you watch over your health.’”

''—''

In the situation something were to happen to Garbera, how would the allied Mephius move? Thoughts within the imperial court in regards to that were quite varied. As for Vileena, she had likely said it with the implied meaning ‘should that time come I pray you will come to Garbera’s aid’.

“A princess, brave and able to take action. Thoughts wishing Gil had even a fragment of her capacity have also crossed my mind.”

“Your Majesty...”

“I will admit that Gil has grown in his own way. However, he cannot hope to carry the burden of the country as he is. To be a ruler is to sometimes see black as white; to listen to all things but also to not show hesitation against dissent; to speak one’s own words from the very start.”

“There is no one who can lead from the start. Not even the greatest of monarchs and heroes written down in history. I’m afraid to say, Your Majesty, it is not that I am patient, but that you are impatient.”

“I may not have been a good father. I shall also admit to that.”

The emperor said as if to put an end their conversation, perhaps finding it to have taken an unpleasant turn.

There were a mountain of things Simon wanted to discuss with the emperor that needed to be said directly. The case of the Dragon God Shrine was also one of them. But he realised that what stood before him was like a heavy leaden wall, that no matter what words he tried to put forth, they would only rebound.

''Can you no longer believe in anyone, Guhl?''

He called out to his old friend internally.

''I see, to be a ruler is to live in solitude.'' As Simon looked along the deep wrinkles, so deep almost as if someone carved them into him, and his whitened hair and beard, he saw an aged emperor weary from a long period of solitude, but who was at the same time very stubborn and refusing to separate from his chair.

''It might be that he’s afraid.''

The flash of realisation suddenly hit him. This owed to the emperor’s current appearance, face down and attentively cleaning up the paperwork, being comparable to that of a small, frail old man.

''Afraid of himself who has stopped being an emperor, and his own son who he has stopped loving, be he fool or not. Or perhaps—''

There was no way Simon Rodloom could not be familiar with the fatigue of someone having engaged in the country’s politics for a long time. Simon believed this may have been a premonition of things to come.

''Rule mustn’t continue to be entrusted to the hands of the weary. Old blood must eventually be replaced by new blood. Should that time be mistaken, the country will be eaten away by disease from within and before long, perish.''

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| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume3_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume3_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
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</noinclude>

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume3 Prologue

2017-09-27T17:45:49Z

Yasharjitm10: /* Prologue */

==Prologue==

The water bathed in light as it splashed about.

“Orba! You’re not coming? The cold water feels really nice!”

Alice called out to him from the river’s shoal. Her white legs were bare under the cuffs of her trousers as she frolicked about like a child. After all, it was a hot day out. Stretched out on the shore, Orba gave an unenthusiastic reply.

Back then, Alice had also called Orba and his brother over while standing in the river. His older brother Roan, who was not as good at swimming as Orba, had eventually been pulled along by Alice and been comically at a loss of what to do in the water.

In the end, nothing changes.

These were the thoughts Orba had as he looked up vacantly. That had been one month before the recurring skirmishes between the two countries, Mephius and Garbera, intensified. Apta Fortress, located close to the village where they lived, got besieged by the Garberan forces and the Mephian army started recruiting soldiers from the neighbouring villages. There were, of course, also those who applied for the army themselves, having given up on the high taxes, but half of them still got recruited against their will.

Orba’s older brother Roan had been one of them. Instead of picking up a sword, his brother was more the type to open a book and teach things to children, but he’d left the village with a smile on his face. It was about two weeks ago that Orba and Alice had watched his back retreating in the distance.

And waiting, for Orba, was a not so ordinary daily life. An arid wind blew through the barely fertile, steep, rugged, and rocky wastelands surrounding the village. The best way to pass the time in a situation like this was to dive into the river beneath the cliffs and swim around.

“You had a fight again with Doug from the other village, didn’t you?” Alice said, smiling, as she shook off the droplets of water in her hair.

“It wasn’t a fight. It was a duel.”

“Sure, sure - a duel,” Alice said, suppressing a giggle. “How come the two of you can’t get along, though? I met him at the festival last year and he seemed like a polite, good kid, asking me ‘How is Orba-kun doing?’ and such.”

“He uses cowardly tactics when he can’t win a duel. He might’ve ensnared you, Alice, but I don’t intend to let myself get careless. This is the same guy that tricked us when he said he saw a wild dragon. Thanks to him, we ended up walking all over the place…”

“It wasn’t us but only you that got tricked, right? ''We'' were just forced to come along with you.”

“That’s not true. Wasn’t everybody excited about it? Even Roan-niisan?”

Suddenly, the smile on Alice’s face disappeared. Also holding his tongue, Orba laid his half-risen body back on the ground. The unnatural silence continued for a while until Orba again heard the sound of splashing water.

At the same time he could hear her humming.

Alice liked to sing. She resembled her father in that, who always sang in a loud voice when drunk. But even so, she rarely ever took up singing in public. He had heard her sing among the rocks just outside of the village once. And one time at the annual festival, the men had invited her from among the women to sing. Back then, Orba had noticed Alice get a bright flush to her cheeks and move away as if trying to escape.

''And you’ve got such a nice voice.''

He looked up at the clear sky above. Was his brother looking up at the same view?

It had already been two weeks since he left. His brother’s absence from home had become a usual thing, because he’d always been working in the capital, but right now time seemed to be passing by very slowly. Especially when he and his mother were having their meals.

To forget his anxiousness and worries, in between his job of looking after the small number of livestock, he never got tired of absorbing himself in reading the books he’d received as presents from his brother. When his eyes moved over the words, Orba turned from a powerless boy from a tiny back country into barbarian king Gape, dragon-slaying hero Clovis, or the adventurer known as Marlow, who had crossed the sea to finally arrive at the world of snow and ice where the Winged Tribe lived.

And when he chased the texts and it became too hard for him to endure the throbbing rush of blood in his body, he would always pick up his wooden sword and wield it so engrossedly until not a single drop of sweat could leave his body anymore.

''One day, I’ll go there too!''

Blocking the scorching sun with the palm of his hand, Orba hardened that determination for the umpteenth time.

''I’ll take up the sword and fight in a war somewhere. I’ll flourish, become a hero, and make mom happy. Then I can wield a sword and fight in my brother’s stead.''

He clenched the hand he used to block the sun tightly into a fist and, having read those many stories, imagined carving his own name among those dazzling military records.

There was still some warmth lingering in his hand. It was at this time that he wished he could’ve given his brother a hand when he left. He still remembered that touch even now. Back when he had to part from everyone and before he’d turned around, Roan had promptly held out his hand, but Orba had been too embarrassed and refused to give him a hand.

“It’s okay,” Roan had said as he’d grabbed his hand tight. “Before long, good things will happen to you.”

Ever since then, Orba thought that his brother’s words held some strange hidden meaning within.

“Alice?”

He swiftly raised his head when he noticed the sound of splashing water and Alice’s humming had ceased. He saw that Alice’s figure had become smaller. Near the river bank, where the river got wider, even an adult wouldn’t be able to stand. And Alice was already up to her chest in the water.

“Hey, Alice!”

Alice turned her head only once and gave Orba an enigmatic smile. Then she faced forward again, took one step, then another, and kept moving further away from Orba. No matter how many times he called after her, she wouldn’t stop.

Yelling out to her in his loudest voice, Orba started running for the river. His feet splashed into the water and before long he was paddling with both arms and legs, dead set on moving forward. He slipped his head underneath the surface, but even though the river’s transparency was high, he couldn’t spot her underwater. Then, when he raised his head to catch his breath, something clung to him from behind.

“Ah!”

“Surprised?”

Alice was giggling close to his ear. Her clothes were soaking wet, and he could feel her body, as well as her warm breath, touching him. Orba was at a loss for words and he frantically tried to get out of her embrace.

“Wait!” the girl, three years his senior, whispered, as her warm breath tickled Orba’s ears. “Stay like this for a while.”

''This is… She couldn’t be crying, right?''

Orba immediately thought.

He couldn’t remember for how long they’d huddled together. He was certain that, while their two bodies continued to drift about in the water with the sun burning above their heads, he could hear Alice make a small sob every now and then as her warm body pushed against him.

''This is…''

Orba thought again, slowly dozing off into the space between sleep and reality.

The touch of her skin pushing against him, although it wasn’t the truth of what happened, left burning traces in his heart that remained there even now from that hot day long past.

''Just what was going on? What is it that Alice wanted from me? No… this wasn’t about me...''

Orba turned over in his bed and suddenly woke up. There wasn’t the touch of iron as he hit the bed. In other words, that depressing iron mask wasn’t currently covering his face. Sitting up on his bed, Orba timidly brushed his fingers across his cheek.

It was his own skin after all.

Wiping the perspiration away, Orba crossed the spacious room and opened the curtains. From the balcony overlooking the garden, he could see the streets of the imperial city Solon.

This was not the remote village surrounded by steep cliffs and discoloured earth. Orba was no longer the boy from back then, but he was no longer a slave or gladiator either. The twists and turns of fate had somehow made him carry the name and face of Gil Mephius, the firstborn prince of the Imperial Dynasty of Mephius.

But the sky was blue.

At least that remained the same. And the many emotions burning inside his chest also hadn’t changed from his childhood days.

He leaned against the side of the bed and unconsciously pulled the sword he kept close out of his sheath. He stared at the name ‘Orba’ engraved in the blade, and steeled his heart in order to again wear this flesh-coloured mask today.

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| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume3_Illustrations|Illustrations]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume3_Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume9 Chapter1

2017-09-27T17:39:03Z

Yasharjitm10: /* Part 1 */

==Chapter 1: Land of Reunion==

=== Part 1 ===

“Crown Prince Gil Mephius.”

Even though he himself had shouted out the name, Nabarl Metti could not believe that the person before his eyes was real.

He had never spoken in person with the prince but he had seen his face when at Court. That face was identical to that of the person in front of him. He was almost certain of it. Nonetheless, Nabarl's mind was in turmoil since Crown Prince Gil Mephius had lost his life right here, in Apta, and should no longer be in this world. Nor was it limited to Nabarl, his nearby subordinates, and even the war prisoners who had ridden in the same boats from the opposite shore of the River Yunos, were in the same state. Everyone was holding their breath and wore identically astounded expressions. It was as though time had stopped in that instant, until the man before Nabarl's eyes suddenly bent down and picked up something that had tumbled to the ground.

It was the sword which had dropped from Nabarl's hand just a moment ago. Its glittering tip which, just like the surface of the river, blindingly reflected the light of the morning sun, was offhandedly thrust towards Nabarl's own neck.

"Nabarl, was it? You've got quite some nerve to point a sword at me."

"Ah, n-no, that was..."

"I know. It's the proof that you're diligent in your duties."

The man who had exactly the same face as the prince and who talked in exactly the same voice as the prince smiled faintly, and returned the sword to Nabarl's waist.

The colour drained from Nabarl's face, just as the energy did from his entire body, leaving him looking faint and about to collapse at any moment.

Imperial Prince Gil Mephius left Nabarl in that state and started walking briskly. The soldiers hurriedly made way. He continued on, the rows of their bewildered faces flanking him on either side. Rogue Saian and Odyne Lorgo followed a little behind him.

As they climbed up the path carved into the cliff, cross-shaped stakes came into view, driven into the ground of the open training space. There were more than fifty of them. Tied high up on each one were men who were stripped almost naked. Gil pointed to them.

"Aren't they all former Imperial Guards?" he asked.

"Aye'" replied Rogue.

"Didn’t I ask you, General Rogue, to look after them in an earlier letter."

"Indeed. They were once serving under me."

The prince curled his lips in a way that did not make it seem like he was amused. "And yet now, they're tied up. Certainly, most of them are former slaves so they must be guilty of some kind of lapse."

"No. Given that His Majesty the Emperor has stated that the west had robbed Your Highness of your life and that testimonies from the Imperial Guards differed from that, Sir Nabarl deemed them to be suspicious and was going to have them executed."

"That's strange. As to why it's strange… Well, I'm still alive. Aren't I, Odyne?" keeping his eyes lowered, Odyne Lorgo gave a slight nod. "I'll take charge of them again. That fine with you, Rogue?"
"The prince's word is my command."

Both Generals Rogue and Odyne interacted perfectly naturally with the prince, as though he had never been gone – or in other words, as though he had never been believed dead. In actual fact, their feelings, as though shaken by a tempest, were just as chaotic as Nabarl's, but they did not let it show on their faces.

Nabarl caught up with them at that point.

"P-Please wait, Your Highness."

"What is it?" the prince did not even look at him.

Sweat glistened on Nabarl's rather fat cheeks. "H-His Majesty, this... Does he know that you are alive, Your Highness?"

"Right now, I don't have the leisure to be giving an account of every little thing."

"H-However, on His Majesty's orders, Apta is currently under my jurisdiction. And so are those former Imperial Guards."

"So then, was their execution ordered by my father?"

Nabarl was unable to utter another word. Sentencing the former Imperial Guards to execution by firing squad and undoubtedly been his own doing. Even though he had made that decision based entirely on the belief that the emperor would not object to it, he could not help but hesitate to carry it out now that it was being stopped by Gil Mephius, the heir to the throne.

Gil pressed forward in silence towards his intended location.

A crowd of people were gathered in that open space. Since it was usually used as a training ground for the dragons, it occupied an especially wide area within the fortress.

The execution of the former Imperial Guards, bound at the stakes, that was scheduled to take place was currently on hold. There had been a report earlier that Taúlian soldiers had appeared on the opposite bank of the River Yunos, and Nabarl's subordinates, as well as the generals, had all left because of it.

The people of Apta had been watching the execution of those involved in the prince's assassination from the other side of the palisade, but at this point, most of them had scurried home. Even those who had stayed behind, only to see things through with their own eyes, were understandably anxious.

For their part, the soldiers who had their guns at the ready were restless and looked as if they were wondering whether they would be ordered to intercept the enemy. The same held true for Gareth, the one who was in charge of them and also the one who had originally proposed that the Imperial Guards be executed.

Then –

"General!"

At long last, General Nabarl could be seen returning along the road on the western side. Rogue and Odyne as well. The soldiers who were likewise following in succession were not wearing tense expressions either. At any rate, it seemed that Taúlia had not trespassed across the border.

However, sensing that something even stranger was going on, Gareth closed his mouth shut.

The people's gazes were also spontaneously attracted to a certain point, and then, as though by common agreement, their mouths all dropped open vacantly.

Apta had only just greeted the morning but, for a moment, in that one corner of it, a silence as still as death reigned. Gareth, the soldiers who had been about to pull the trigger at his command, the former Imperial Guards whose four limbs were bound to the cross-shaped stakes, and also the people of Apta. Nobody uttered a sound.

The crunching sound of footsteps from the line of soldiers treading firmly across the ground was strangely loud. Then in that moment someone cried out –

"It's the Prince!"

From the other side of the palisade, one of the children pointed towards the head of the group. A man who appeared to be his father hurriedly caught him in his arms but, as though it had been a cue, a commotion ran throughout the surroundings.

"That person is..."

"I-Impossible. It can't be."

"No, but... Any way you look at him..."

The people did not erupt in delight but simply looked at each other as though hoping that someone would be able to transform their doubts into conviction, then had their eyes irresistibly pulled back in the same direction – towards the person with the same face as Prince Gil.

Although the Imperial Guards, who had been awaiting execution, and the riflemen, who had conversely been about to carry out that execution, all had their eyes open round in surprise; none of them could formulate any definite words or approach to the situation.

The temporary execution site was filled with a bizarre atmosphere.

Amidst it, Rogue Saian separated himself from the line of men and surreptitiously called for his subordinates. These soldiers had been lying hidden and, the moment the execution began, they had been going to save the Imperial Guards and restrain Nabarl and Gareth.

They received new orders from the veteran general and, although somewhat bewildered, put them into effect. Several of them drew out a single stake, cautiously laid it down and carefully cut loose the Imperial Guard with the use of their short swords. First one, then another - one-by-one, they released each of the prisoners from their bindings.

The people watched the proceedings in growing amazement and with a greater clamour than earlier.

''You...''

When Gowen, the former commander of the Imperial Guards, was freed from the stake, his gaze met Gil's. For now, Gil could only acknowledge those emotions with his eyes. Next to Gowen was Pashir, the swordsman who had formerly been appointed captain of the Imperial Guards' Infantry Troop. His face was all but expressionless.

"W-What is this!" Gareth called out in a panicked-sounding voice as Nabarl approached. His gaze was also glued to Gil and he did not so much as glance at his superior officer.

"Don't you get it!" Nabarl spat, his complexion devoid of colour. "The ways of the imperial family aren't for us to understand, tsk. Anyway, the execution is suspended."

At the same time, probably because they had already heard the rumour, more and more people were coming back to the other side of the palisade. As one by one the number of people increased, the population's astonished wonder was shared among the crowd. Although they were somewhat hesitant, they carried a faint hope in their hearts which went along with the actual sight before them, and it was undoubtedly with hope that they called out.

"Prince."

"Your Highness Gil."

When Gil responded with a slight lift of his hand, a crack opened in the people's hearts. And then all at once, the feelings that they had been tightly holding back were set loose from that crack.

"I-It's Lord Gil."

"He's alive."

"Everyone, His Highness Gil is alive!"

All around, shouts started to arise. Caught up in the raging fires of delirious enthusiasm, even the former Imperial Guards, who had only just been freed from the stakes and who had still been wearing uneasy expressions, all at once went wild, jumping up and down on the spot and hugging each other.

"You really believed in me," was the first thing Gil said. "I'm grateful, Rogue, Odyne."

"It is we who are grateful."

"It is good that you returned. Welcome back."

It was probable that not even facing certain death would cause the two generals' attitude, which was as firm as a boulder, to crumble; yet right now, their eyes were sparkling and shimmering like those of young men.

Gil Mephius gave a small smile then said, "I'm sure there's a pile of things to talk about but there's a lot that needs to be dealt with first."

"Yes." Rogue glanced around at their surroundings. This small part of Apta was overrun by the population and not a single person seemed about to leave.

''We should send in the soldiers and have them move for now'' – As Rogue was about to suggest that, the prince said something unexpected.

"Rogue, I want you to dispatch a ship from your fleet. A battleship seating ten or twenty, maybe."

"A ship?" Rogue blinked, in a way that was very unlike him. "But, to where?"

"To the west, across the River Yunos and inside Taúlia’s domains. There's no need to arm the ship. There's someone there who is waiting to be fetched."

"What, how?"

At Gil's lightly spoken words of sending a ship to the west, the two generals once again stared at him in amazement. Even without taking into account the long history between Mephius and the west, and simply considering the recent battle between the two countries, this was an order that defied common sense.

''And so –''

To Rogue and Odyne, what Gil had done and what he would do from now on, looked every bit a dazzling as the morning sun which was illuminating every face there.

=== Part 2 ===

''It's warm'', she thought.

Feeling somebody's warmth through their skin, heat seemed to permeate her cold body. She had never thought that human skin could be something so pleasant.

At first, Vileena Owell had not known who the owner of that skin - or rather, who the person who was holding her to their chest and gazing fixedly at her, was. That was because the area around their face was dim, as though a haze was hanging over it and the only thing she was sure of were two glittering eyes.

''So after all'' – the princess thought from the depths of her somewhat nebulous conscience – s''o after all, you really are a liar''. She had called out to them, but she herself did not know if her voice had actually come out.

However, she had the feeling that the desperation in the eyes of the man looking her way had imperceptibly softened.

The princess' eyelids fluttered faintly before she opened her eyes wide.

She blinked twice, three times. What she could see was neither the star-speckled sky nor the ceiling of a building. It was a cloth fluttering in the wind. After a moment, she realised that she had been left to rest in a tent.

The warmth of the skin she had felt was far away. The arms that had carried her, the chest that had held her, had all suddenly disappeared.

''So after all'' – she thought once more.

That had always been her experience so far. Time and time again, as soon as she felt relieved that that was just a bad dream, she would be hit with the reality that this was what was really only a dream. And every time, she regretted it bitterly, feeling as though someone had seen through her indulgent desire.

''So after all, I was just mistaken?''

Vileena had simply not been able to believe that Gil Mephius had vanished so abruptly. It was for that reason that she had left Solon, had deceive the people in Mephius, and flew an airship to Apta.

But what the girl who lived holding the pride of kings had been thrust into there was a harsh truth and the signs of a war that would engulf a great many people.

''A surprise attack.''

Vileena's efforts to stop the war between the two countries had been in vain and the opening of hostilities had cruelly unfolded. She had drawn fire to the airship she was piloting, had fainted along the mountain path she had crashed into, and had been rescued by a man named Rone Jayce. Along with his daughter Layla, he had taken great care of Vileena – of the girl who had been obliged to call herself by the false name 'Luna'.

The village that they lived in had been attacked by somebody. At first, she believed that it was by Mephian subjects. However, the assailant who had confronted Vileena clearly had Zerdian features and his aim appeared to be her own assassination.

Vileena’s consciousness, which had awoken only a moment ago, was struck with stabbing pain and a flickering sensation. The flames burned a brilliant red, Rone’s figure lay collapsed, his abdomen pierced through, Layla was crying out to him in tears.

Vileena abruptly tried to get up but, feeling a pain as though a blade was embedded in her own belly, she broke into a violent coughing fit.

“Princess!” She heard a young man’s voice. An armed Zerdian soldier knelt by her side. “Princess, have you woken up? Ah, please don’t do anything excessive. I will call a doctor immediately.”

The soldier seemed about to dash off at any moment, so in a faint, trembling voice, Vileena called out to stop him.

Taking a second look at things, there were only herself and the young soldier guarding the entrance inside the tent.

He was a Taúlian soldier and apparently belonged to a different group than the party who had come to the village in search of her. While on route to the Mephian border, they had noticed that something unusual was happening at the village and had rushed over.

Although the young man was covered in soot and sweat, his expression and his voice were bright. From that, Vileena was finally able to entertain some hope.

“Then, you saved the village?”

“Of course, we also fought,” the young man nodded proudly, “but it was him who did the most to save you, Princess.”

“Him?” Vileena slowly lifted her torso. The joints of her body ached, especially around her abdomen, but there did not seem to be any particularly severe problem.

“Do you not remember? He was the one who rescued you, Princess, from a dangerous situation. There were some alarming rumours going around in Taúlia but, in the end, he is definitely the hero who slayed Garda. Maybe there’s something in his nature that guides him to places where he can demonstrate his heroic abilities.”

“I’m afraid I’m not very familiar with the people of Taúlia…”

“No, while he is certainly a mercenary of Taúlia, he is originally from Mephius. He is a masked swordsman called Orba.”

“''Orba''.”

At that moment, on opposite sides of the border, and although their situations and personalities were of course vastly different, Nabarl Metti and Vileena Owell fell into a very similar state of mind. Even as she herself said his name, there was no actual feeling of reality to it.

Furthermore –

“He immediately headed for Apta. It might be at Master Ravan’s suggestion but I think it’s likely that he is going to hold talk with Mephius. Moreover, he also said that a ship will soon be coming from Apta to fetch you, Princess.”

“From Apta?” Vileena was falling into greater and greater confusion.

Mephius and Taúlia had only just clashed in battle. Vileena herself was in this land which had been turned into a battlefield. Yet even though that was the case, she was told that a ship would be coming from the Mephian territory of Apta to fetch her here in the western territory of Taúlia.

She did not have a clue what was going on. Her brain was functioning so poorly that she herself was irritated by it. Still –

''Something…''

Right, something was starting to move. Orba’s name, what was being said about Mephius – while the “reality” she held in her head was being smashed into tiny pieces with each swing of the hammer, it also felt as though the indulgent desire that obstinately remained in the girl’s heart was finally taking shape.

Still, taken another way, Vileena was a girl who had seen many “realities”. She did not immediately latch onto the first sign. Afraid of having her hopes smashed again, she could not cling to the same hope twice.

Although the soldier repeatedly urged her to rest, she instead got him to help her get up.

She lifted the tent flap.

There was the village that Vileena had spent eight days in. Although saying so, not a single thing she had known of it remained.

Vileena almost collapsed in an instant for reasons that had nothing to do with her limbs being heavy and sluggish. The soldier hurriedly supported her by the shoulder. Although the Zerdian was caught in turmoil about whether it was appropriate for a young man of his social position to directly touch the skin of a young girl coming from royalty, Vileena’s heart was too torn to pay any attention to that.

Most of the houses no longer retained their original form and had been reduced to piles of scrap wood from which black smoke arose. In one part, the fire was still burning and half-naked men were working to extinguish it.

A crowd of injured people had lain on the ground to rest. There were men who had received injuries from swords or spears, women who had silently fallen prostrate, and young children who had been burned and whose dark-red skin lay exposed. The sobs and agonised groans were incessant.

Vileena hated herself for having been the only one comfortably sleeping in the tent.

At almost the same time, she took a shuddering breath. Among the injured who lay collapsed, she had spotted Rone Jayce. Lying next to him must be Lennus, the young man that Layla had been going to rescue. The front half of his right arm was gone. His expression was one of anguish.

The young soldier looked around them pityingly. “Medicine is being brought from the relay base even now. However, there aren’t enough doctors. We have requested that more be dispatched but in the current circumstances, who knows how long it will take for a sufficient number of doctors to arrive at the village.”

There were only two large-sized air carriers in Taúlia. Since a valuable ship had been downed during the counter-attack against Garda, they were currently forced to make use of older model ships. Given the present situation, it was uncertain whether the precious air carriers would really be sent out to provide medical care for the villagers.

Layla was also there, close to Rone and Lennus. Kneeling down, she was giving her father water to drink and wiping Lennus’ sweat.

Vileena almost ran towards her without thinking, but stopped before she had even taken three steps. It was her life that the assailants had been aiming for. Rone and the others had essentially gotten entangled in that. On top of that, she had hidden her identity as a princess of Garbera. Vileena could not think of a single word to say.

The princess savagely bit her lower lip. Time passed. Then, as though having reached a decision, she broke away from the soldier’s hand and took a step in Layla’s direction.

At the same time, the soldier raised a flustered voice. “Princess, over there!”

In the sky, which was growing light, the outline of a ship had appeared. It was fast approaching.

What halted Vileena's steps once again, as she looked up at the sky, was that it bore the crest of Mephius. It was a twenty-man high-speed battleship. It was somewhat larger than the models Vileena was used to. That was probably because Mephius' techniques for producing dragonstone ships was inferior to Garbera's.

Amidst the shrill noise of its ether engines, the battleship landed by the edge of the village, blowing wind and earth throughout its surroundings as it did so.

Several Mephians disembarked. To show that they were not hostile towards the Taúlian, they carefully laid their guns and swords on the ground, then waited for the Taúlian soldiers to approach them.

After a brief exchange, one of Mephians was led into the village by the western soldiers.

His face was as young as that of the soldier who had escorted her out of the tent. His eyes met Vileena's.

"Princess!"

The Mephian's expression suddenly turned to one of delight.

Vileena recognised him. His name was Neil Tonson. He had been the commander of the airship division within the prince's Imperial Guards. The princess had instructed them during flight practice. Also, he was the one who had gone to meet her when she had left Nedain for Apta.

"There is no greater joy than to see you safe and well, Princess. Please be at ease now. I have come to fetch you from Apta."

"Why?"

Contrary to the somewhat excited Neil, Vileena's tone was cold. Neil was bewildered.

"W-What do you mean by why?"

"I warned Taúlia of Mephius' invasion. I do not recall criminals such as myself being greeted with such courtesy when they are about to be bound in chains."

"A criminal you say," the young man's ruddy face grew even redder, "... Certainly, Mephius and Taúlia were at war. But the ones who brought that to an end were none other than you yourself, Princess, and our Crown Prince, Lord Gil Mephius."

"Lord Gil Mephius..."

Vileena repeated those words in a murmur. Her expression was wooden. Just as when she had heard Orba's name, she had the illusion that on some level, she was still dreaming.

Thinking about it, Nabarl should also have placed this young man, Neil Tonson, under restraint. On the groundless accusation of having taken part in the prince's assassination. Yet he had come from Apta by ship to fetch her.

''It's, I see. No, but...''

A hundred, two hundred words that could not be expressed seemed to well up from within the depths of her heart and immediately fill up the tiny container that was the girl, threatening to overspill at any moment now.

"P-Princess?"

The young Taúlian soldier who was acting as the princess' guard and Neil spoke at the same time. They had expected her face to light up with joy but instead, her platinum hair abruptly fell forward and she hung her head.

After who knows how much time had passed and how many times they called out to her, Vileena raised her head and said something unexpected,

"How many ships of the same type as that one are there in Apta?"

For a moment, Neil mouth gaped open vacantly.

"General Rogue's air force is stationed there so there should be several such ships."

His words were somewhat vague as there were after all strangers nearby. Vileena paid it no heed and spoke quickly.

"Please have them send as many as possible here." She went on to explain that she wanted those ships to fetch the injured from the village and carry them to Apta.

Although normally it would be preferable to go to Taúlia, Apta was closer, however they would need to obtain consent from the Taúlian before Mephian ships were sent. But Vileena was loathe to waste all that time.

Naturally, both Neil and the Taúlian were startled.

"B-But, Princess..."

"There are no 'buts'. The people of this village protected me. I will not turn my back on the debt of gratitude that I owe them and unconcernedly escape by myself. Nothing will make me move from here without the guarantee of their safe arrival at Apta. But if you wish to tie me up and drag me away across the ground, by all means, please do so."

''She sure can rattle on'' – the one who thought that about the princess' caustic words was none other than Vileena herself.

It was no one else’s fault but her own that they had ended up in this situation so this was her responsibility. While keenly aware of that, Vileena deliberately adopted a high-handed attitude.

Neil excused himself for a moment and went to consult with what appeared to be the commander of the Taúlian side who was standing near the ship. In the end, it looked as though both sides accepted the condition.

Having come running back, Neil promised Vileena to bring a flotilla of ships from Apta.

“However, please return with us on board this ship, Princess. If you yourself are not present, the people of Taúlia will fall under suspicion.”

“I understand.”

After that exchange, the villagers were informed that Vileena was a princess of Garbera and the injured would shortly be transferred to Apta.

“No way.”

“Why somewhere like Mephius?”

Shouts rose up and there was not a man there who did not have complaints.

Many believed that it was Mephius that had attacked the village and the Taúlian soldiers had to go around convincing them one by one. Vileena Owell herself went towards Rone Jayce to express her fervent hope.

Layla, who was nursing him, noticed the princess approach and quickly averted her eyes.

“There are a lot of things I need to tell you,” Vileena could not conceal the stiffness in her tone. “However, right now, the most important thing is your father’s life and the lives of the villagers. Please, won’t you come to Mephius with us.”

Of course, Vileena did not know the circumstances surrounding the Jayce family. She did not know what it would mean for them to set foot in Mephius. Layla however recognised that she needed to prioritise her father’s life over anything else. Apparently, she had already strengthened her resolve after consulting with her mother.

“I understand,” she answered in a voice that seemed to fade away.

And so, the battleship that Neil had ridden on left.

Vileena, Rone, Layla, who was attending on him, as well as seven others who were particularly badly injured were also on board. The man whose entire body was wrapped in bandages was also among them. Rone had found him before Vileena and the man had been in the care of the Jayce family ever since. He gave the mistaken impression that he had been severely wounded in the recent attack.

The airship slowly travelled along the surface. That was unavoidable since it was heavier than on the way coming due to increased number of people. As she looked out of the window to the remains of the village below, Vileena felt the back of her eyelids grow hot.

At most, she had only spent eight days in that village.

''But, those eight days…''

She had spent them not as the princess of Garbera, not as the fiancée of the Crown Prince of Mephius, but as an ordinary girl of the people. There she had encountered manual labour, the unfamiliar songs of the Zerdian people, and the warmth of the Jayce family.

Unheeding of such sentimentality, the airship picked up speed and landed in Apta before noon.

Instead of having soldiers suddenly burst in and seize her, or denounce her as a traitor, the Mephians greeted Vileena courteously and invited her to board a carriage.

They travelled along the paved street. Peering out of the window over which a curtain was half drawn, Vileena knit her eyebrows at the sight of the townspeople running along the way. There seemed to be a large crowd. And everyone seemed as excited as if a festival were about to begin.

At long last, they arrived at the side gate to the castle’s main building. The princess stepped out of the carriage and once again set foot on Mephian land.

Her heart was beating wildly. On the way to Apta, she had strongly repressed her own feelings. She was almost at her limit. She barely saw the people who sent greetings her way, or heard their voices. Even so, the moment she reached the top of the staircase and stepped into the upper part of the hall –

''Ah!''

Only that clear-ringing voice reached her ears.

Without her realising it, Vileena’s feet, or rather, her entire body, came to a stop.

=== Part 3 ===

That day in Apta, in the southwest Mephius, had turned into an extraordinary one.

Against the backdrop of the brilliant blue sky and from a balcony that opened out onto the town area, Gil Mephius waved his hand as he was enveloped in the cheers of the people.

“It was here, that night, that cowardly bullets rained down.”

When Gil swept up his forelocks a vivid scar stood out clearly against his forehead. It looked like the traces were from where a beast had raked its claws. If you looked closely, you would realise that it was a mass of smaller scars gathered together, but from a distance, it could only be seen as a single, large wound running in a long diagonal line.

Confronted with it before their eyes, the people raised shouts mingling horror and surprise, grief and admiration.

“But I, Gil Mephius, am not one to die so easily. Especially if the opponent is someone as vulgar as Oubary.”

Amidst the roars of laughter, Gil Mephius’ lips did not lose their faint smile.

“Those who would attack me had best be determined. Do their hearts hold righteousness? Are they prepared to have their hands smeared in my blood for all eternity? Finally, do they have the courage to carry the weight of Mephius on their backs? Act only after thinking carefully. When I am about to take someone’s life, I certainly question myself.”

The people were in a frenzy over the calm figure of Crown Prince Gil Mephius. This was the land which had a deeper connection with the Crown Prince than anywhere else in Mephius. For the people, Gil Mephius, who had fallen in Apta and been revived in Apta, was already an object of almost religious faith and unmistakably emitted a dazzling brilliance. Men who could not contain the excitement boiling in their blood brandished hoes or spades, while those who did not have anything like that at hand raised brooms, daikon radishes, or at the very least their arms to the sky.

It could well be said that at that time, almost every person in Apta had their gazes concentrated on Gil Mephius.
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v09 037.jpg|thumb]]
Vileena Owell was, of course, one of them.

Having been led by the soldiers, she was standing directly behind the balcony. The Garberan princess stood still, not uttering a sound. She could not clearly distinguish the back of the young man who was only some twenty paces away from her. Not even she understood why that was.

Layla was also among those with their eyes fixed on Gil. After alighting from the airship, she had been walking next to the stretcher that was carrying her father. Even forgetting to go with him, Layla stopped. The point she was looking up at was the youth who was making a speech. Although she had prayed to forget as soon as possible, not for a single day had she forgotten. That was, beyond any doubt, Gil Mephius himself.

The figure of the lover with whom she had once promised the future flashed through her mind. It was that man who had destroyed that future. Instead of happy days spent hand-in-hand with her loved ones, they had started out on a difficult journey away from Solon. Even when the journey had come to an end, it was to a life of hardship in a land she was not used to.

She had endured that daily reality, and just when she thought she had finally achieved the normal life of a human being where she could feel hope in tomorrow, if only a little, even that meagre wish was engulfed in flames. Amidst the blazing fire, the father who had always protected her had taken an assassin’s blade and had fallen to the ground.

All of it, all of it had been caused by Gil Mephius. He was like something inhuman, a fiend born from another world that continued to curse and torment the Jayce family.

And then, there was one other.

The man whose entire body was covered in bandages peeled his eyes wide, almost devouring Crown Prince Gil Mephius with his fixed gaze. He was being transported when, along the way, he had heard Gil’s voice and had run, half-tumbling, to the public plaza. The soldiers chasing behind had lost sight of him in the crowd.

When the man’s gaze fell away from Gil, he started trembling violently and while the crowds gathered in the square before the hall jostled against him – they were simply too excited and happy to pay it any attention – he alone went against the throngs of people and left the plaza.

Having finished his impassioned speech for the time being, Gil finally turned away from the voices of the populace who seemed reluctant to let him go.

As soon as he left the balcony, Gowen, the former commander of his Imperial Guards, promptly held out water for him. His bronzed face with its sparse beard wore a terrifying smile.

“For now, I’ll give you my thanks for having saved our lives, but there are a lot of other things I want to talk about,” he said in a hushed voice.
Gil drained the water in one gulp. “Yeah. We’ll make time later.”

“And when’s that going to be,” Gowen muttered low.

There were not many people who knew the incredible truth that the current Gil Mephius had once been a sword slave. He had to arrange separate times for the people he needed to reencounter as Prince Gil and for those he wanted to celebrate his reunion with as Orba.

“However, Your Highness,” Gowen suddenly changed his tone as Rogue and Odyne approached, “there is someone that you should meet with before us.”

“Oh,” having drawn up to their side, Rogue immediately guessed what the topic was, “don’t worry about putting off uncouth men like ourselves. Even if it’s only a second earlier, please go and reunite, Your Highness.”

“Who’s this about?”

“That’s right,” Odyne pulled a wry face, “there’s the matter of Her Highness the princess to be settled. From what I hear, Your Highness’ subordinate Orba rescued her from peril. Is it because this information had reached you that you requested a ship? It can’t be that Your Highness has no suspicion as to how the princess was in a place like that.”

“She arrived in Apta just a short while ago. Now, please go and show yourself quickly. I’m sure she is waiting impatiently.”
“…”

For a while, Gil remained silent. His expression was like that of a soldier whose favourite sword had suddenly broken in half on the battlefield.

“Really, waiting impatiently?” a woman’s voice threw out.

It was Theresia, the Garberan princess’ head lady’s maid who had been the only person to accompany her when she had travelled to be married.

She was maintaining a distance from Gil and the generals, probably because she was mindful of her own social position, but contrary to that admirable attitude, her expression and voice were as cold as ice.
“A little while earlier, the princess was also here. Apparently not even hearing my voice, she simply gazed intently at the prince’s back. And yet she flew off before he had finished talking.”

“W-What did you say?” Rogue’s voice sounded like he was spluttering. “A-And, where the princess go?”

“Well, how about His Highness be the one searching this time? Just as the princess was for a long... truly, a very long time.”

“Don’t speak so unkindly. Miss Theresia, you know, don’t you? Then how about telling His Highness.”

Despite what the old general said, Theresia turned her head away haughtily.

''This is…'' The two generals exchanged glances, looking somewhat troubled.

“Me too,” Gil Mephius spoke. “I... please. Could you tell me where the princess went?”

Right behind him, Gowen bit back his laughter.

After rudely staring long and fixedly at Gil Mephius’ face – at the face of the heir to the throne of Mephius – Theresia said, “well, it’s fine. It was good that you showed yourself before the people first. Since you could not really have appeared covered in bumps and bruises, now could you?”

According to Theresia, the princess was in the parlour that had been allocated to her on the castle’s second<ref>Which is the first floor by European count. Floor numbers throughout will follow the US/Japanese counting system in which the ground floor is the first floor, the first floor is the second floor, and so on.</ref> floor. As he was on his way there, any number of soldiers and fortress servants gazed at Gil excitedly, but he himself was pulling a somewhat long face.

''This'', Gil Mephius – in other words, Orba – surreptitiously touched his own cheek, ''maybe I should prepare myself to get hit once or twice.'' It was after all ''that'' Vileena.

“I believed in your return and waited for you,” her saying that with tear-filled eyes was not something he could even imagine. What Theresia had said was not in the least bit exaggerated. This time, he had to be prepared for palms or fists flying his way.

And even more than the princess’ personality, the cause of that and the one responsible was clearly Orba himself.

That girl, with her unyielding spirit and a personality that hated to lose, had come to marry from a foreign country, moreover an enemy country, and had struggled to somehow familiarise herself with this land. Every time Orba had found himself in a predicament, she had said, “I want to help.”

Orba had betrayed that girl’s spirit in the worst possible way.

And there was one other thing.

Orba was worried about one other thing. When he had met Vileena again in Taúlia’s domain, it had seemed as if she recognised the masked Orba as “the prince”. Because she had been all but unconscious and was in a daze – ''maybe she just made a mistake, or else…'' At any rate, ''that'' was something that he would have to figure out.

But it was still too early. In fact, what it was that he was using to measure whether it was too slow or fast, even he himself did not know; but he simply felt that right now, he should not reveal his true identity.

Theresia left when they were in front of the door. Her eyes had remained cold to the last. For a while, Orba was unable to move, just as though her gaze had encased his feet in ice.

He hardly knew what he should say to start. Nor what kind of expression he should wear.

However, since worrying endlessly would not improve the current situation, Orba gritted his teeth. While steeling his resolve, for all the world as if he was going to face a giant with nothing but beat-up armour and a single sword, his fist hit the door in a light knock.

“It’s me,” he said. For some reason, both the knocking sound and his voice seemed to echo far too loudly. “It’s Gil Mephius. Princess, can I come in?”

There was no answer.

He wondered if maybe she wasn’t there, but there had definitely been signs that something had moved behind the door when he had knocked.

He cleared his throat once. Knocked a second time. As before, there was no answer. Yet more resolve was needed to make his next move. He grabbed the door handle and turned it. It felt heavy in his hand.
Beyond the open door, there, in the centre of the parlour adjoining her bedroom, the fourteen-year-old girl was sitting.

Vileena’s gaze was turned out of the window to the side. With her elbows resting on a small table, her posture was evidently not one of a princess who was going to go and greet her fiancé.

When they had been reunited in Taúlia’s territory, she had been wearing the clothes of a commoner girl but, of course at Theresia’s urging, she had changed into a dress.

''Has she gotten thinner?'' Orba wondered. He had the same impression as when he had met Princess Esmena in Taúlia some time earlier. Vileena’s figure, as she turned away from him with a grave face, seemed far more grown-up than in his memories. The shadows that her long eyelashes cast over her eyes, the soft lustre of her swaying hair – for some reason these intensified the feeling of tightness in Orba’s chest.

It was similar to a fleeting look up at a girl from a different social class striding along in a sunny place while he himself was just one of the crowd, hanging his head in the shadow of a building’s eaves – in short, Orba was suddenly made keenly aware that the difference in social position between himself and the princess was so great that originally, they should never have met.

''Why, at this point…''

Before entering the room, Orba had been worrying his head about what to say first about all sorts of things, but the moment he caught a glimpse of her, all the words disappeared from his mind. Nor did he know anymore why or what he should do.

As a result, the silence dragged on for nearly five minutes until finally,

“A-Acting so rashly,” those were the first words that Orba strung together. Vileena still did not look his way. “Riding alone into Taúlia… that isn’t something a princess should do. At the very least, you should have given the order to my men.”

“All of your subordinates had been arrested at the time.” Her petal-like lips parted for the first time.

“O-Oh, right,” Orba was still just standing by the doorway. “They were falsely accused and going to be executed, huh. You also acted for their sake. You have my gratitude, Princess…”

“Your gratitude?” Vileena suddenly interrupted Orba’s words in a scathing voice. At the same time, her eyes turned towards him for the first time.

Being stared at straight on, Orba licked his lips.

''What is this?''

Orba was rooted to the spot. A strange feeling seemed to be noisily rising up from his feet to his chest.

“I-Indeed, my gratitude. Your brave actions, Princess, saved my men and Taúlia. So…”

“There is not the slightest reason for you to be grateful.” Her wide, beautiful eyes still fixed straight on him, Vileena rose from her chair. And immediately fired off these words, “since you are not Prince Gil.”

<noinclude>

===References and Translation Notes===
<references/>
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|-
| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume9_Illustrations|Illustrations]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume9_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Hikaru ga Chikyuu ni Itakoro:Volume1 Chapter1

2017-09-27T16:40:55Z

Yasharjitm10: /* Chapter 1: Aren't You Already Dead? */

==Chapter 1: Aren't You Already Dead?==

''Uwaa... Why are they all girls?''

Koremitsu Akagi surveyed the funeral, dumbfounded.

The combination of a high-class blazer and a black shirt composed the uniform of Koremitsu’s school, Heian Academy. There were also other uniforms at Heian like a one-piece, sailor uniforms, vests, bolero jackets with ribbons - so many that it was shocking, the girls in attendance wearing all kinds of distinct outfit.

But that was not all there was for Koremitsu to see.

There was a female university student presently in her own stylish black attire, screaming grievously.

“Hikaru! Hikaru!”

A sorrowful woman stood alongside the student, carrying an air of scholarship about her secretarial appearance, and she covered her face with a handkerchief as her shoulders quivered uncontrollably. Behind stood an opulent lady awash in tears, her eyes fixing the ground. Together in the crowd was a young girl who seemed to be a primary school student, and she was no exception with eyes swollen red, filled in tears.

Koremitsu used the school’s bulletin board to check the funeral’s date beforehand. However, he soon regretted coming along at all.

Among the weeping girls stood a high schooler with messy red hair, his back bent, glowering sharp eyes and a frown, making him look an obtrusive sight to be seen.

Those attending the funeral would occasionally glance suspiciously at Koremitsu Akagi.

Even the fellow girls of Heian Academy uniform were alarmed, wondering why the markedly infamous freshman was in attendance.

In spite of their discomfort, none of them dared to ask why he had come. They bit their lips and pretended to look at something asquint, averting their eyes uncomfortably to walk away.

Even if anyone were to ask Koremitsu the obvious, he himself couldn’t supply an answer.

''Really, why must I come to the funeral of this bastard who lived such an abundant life, when I never even talked to him much?''

Hikaru Mikado’s portrait was placed above some white sandalwood incense at the front of the hall, the space filled with mourners.

Hikaru’s corpse lay among the crowd like an angel, with a smile on his face and adornment from tulips, lilies, and carnations.

He had a slender face, the nose delicate and lips plump; his skin was an immaculate white and each of his irises possessed a crystalline transparency. These qualities lent themselves to an effeminate purity and sweetness in Hikaru Mikado’s resting body.

When they first met, Koremitsu wondered why a girl would be wearing a boy’s uniform at school.

This was thought only before Koremitsu learned that this very affable boy with unique voice was known to others as the ‘Imperial Prince’ of the school.

He was not simply the school’s ‘Prince’, but its ‘Imperial Prince’, a title befitting the elegance of ‘Lord Hikaru’ much better. Female middle school graduates and newly-enrolled high schoolers were chatting dreamily about Hikaru Mikado in this vein, and that was how Koremitsu learned of Hikaru’s place in Heian.

All the same, he was extremely popular, and many girls even started liking him when he was a student in the affiliated kindergarten.

Even in this school full of rich peers, his family background and wealth were considered outstanding. Despite this, he showed the same abundant affections and tenderness to every last girl.

''“As expected, that guy is some handsome dude I have no affinity with whatsoever.”''

That was what Koremitsu thought before meeting Hikaru.

But, for some reason, Hikaru Mikado called out to Koremitsu with a grin when they met for the first time.

“There’s something I want to ask you.”

Koremitsu felt there was something wrong with Hikaru’s statement back then.

He came to question whether he heard things wrongly after Koremitsu was told of Hikaru’s death before those words made sense to him.

It was said that Hikaru drowned in a flood caused by heavy rain while staying at a resort in Shinshu, during the Golden Week.

Even though they had merely exchanged a few words, the fact that Hikaru died at the young age of 15 was a huge shock to Koremitsu, making him aware once again of how life was not permanent - how fleeting it was. He recalled his father’s death and felt bitter in his heart.

Koremitsu harboured such complicated, incomprehensible feelings as he went to Hikaru’s funeral under the soft rains.

Koremitsu sat on the pipe chairs indoors with a forlorn expression, vacantly staring at the funeral leader surrounded by women’s anguished sobbing.

''Hikaru was a beautiful child.''

''He was such a kind child.''

<div style="text-align:center;">''He really had such a refreshing smile.''</div>

<div style="text-align:right;">''His was voice was so nice.''</div>

<div style="text-align:center;">''And he had such delicate fingers - like a gifted artist’s.''</div>

''He was a little stubborn, but I can’t bring myself to hate him for it.''

<div style="text-align:right;">''He was scared of loneliness, but that made him adorable.''</div>

''He was a child who looked like he could carry all the happiness in the world.''

<div style="text-align:center;">''He was a child who seemed to be enveloped by light.''</div>

Everyone present was mourning and weeping for this young man and his premature death.

The funerary songs of remembrance fell upon Koremitsu’s ears.

He really understood too little about this deceased person, and it was difficult for Koremitsu to understand the mourners’ feelings.

He was awash in waves of sadness, feeling annoyance, guilt, and unease.

At this moment, he noticed a woman sitting in a seat reserved for relatives.

She appeared young.

She was probably in her early twenties or so.

Her body was so frail-looking that she seemed like a flower about to snap at any time, and she was neither wearing a one-piece nor black kimono. Her hair was tied back.

The moment she entered Koremitsu’s vision, he held his breath from the sheer impact of what he saw.

''Mikado...?''

At that moment, he had the wrong impression that Hikaru Mikado ''himself'' was sitting before him.

She bore a shocking resemblance to Hikaru.

Her smooth, silky hair looked golden under the light; she had milky white skin, a subtle yet elegant nose, lips like petals and a slender neck.

''Is she Hikaru’s older sister...?''

The woman slowly smiled.

Those tears continued rolling down her delicate face, but the ends of her lips curled up a little.

It was a tranquil, pleasing smile.

Hers was a smile that did not fit a funeral scene. Koremitsu stood in front of the sandalwood incense, his nostrils heavy with its smell, and he gazed at her half-mesmerized.

''Why...is she smiling?''

''She’s smiling so beautifully, so—happily.''

''Why, at his funeral...?''

This woman who looked like Hikaru’s sister showed a smile that lasted for such a brief moment it felt like an illusion.

Koremitsu was so rapt by the display that he was beginning to space out. Before he could, a sharp voice in the crowd interrupted his thoughts.

“HE’S JUST A DAMN IDIOT!”

Startled, he glanced over at the source of the voice.

A girl wearing Heian Academy uniform was standing in front of Hikaru’s mourning post.

Her long, black hair was left behind her head, tied with black ribbon. She gave off a childish vibe, looking quite the refined princess. As she clenched her fists she could not help but shudder, her large eyes almost appeared to emit an aura of furious contempt as she angrily stared at Hikaru’s smiling portrait.

She let out scathing words from contrastingly quivering lips.

“YOU’RE REALLY AN IDIOT FOR DROWNING IN A RIVER LIKE THAT! THAT’S SO EMBARRASSING! I THOUGHT YOU WOULD BE STABBED TO DEATH BY A WOMAN! IT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE TOO MUCH OF A PLAYBOY THAT KARMA STRUCK BACK!”

[[Image:HgCnI V01 015.jpg|thumb]]

“Don’t do this, Aoi.”

Instantaneously, a taller girl wearing the same uniform walked over. She grabbed her by the shoulder, clearly wanting to take her outside.

Prompted by the suggestive hand, “Aoi” lifted her head to see Hikaru’s portrait again.

The side of her pallid, stiff face caused Koremitsu’s heart to skip a beat.

It was a face mixed with anger, anguish and bitterness. A dangerous expression—

The young girl howled in disdain.

'''“YOU LIAR!”'''

Koremitsu felt like his heart was stabbed by a sharp spear.

In fact, he even felt a sharp pang inside.

''Whoa there...what kind of carnage is this?''

The place fell silent for a moment to regain its relative clamour moments later.

Folks started murmuring about what had just happened to one another.

''Liar—''

Koremitsu’s mind was still thinking about her begrudging tone and her angry, yet pained expression.

''Liar.''

''Liar.''

Mikado’s innocent face was right before her, but what could still have caused him to be told off like that?

''“Liar.”'' The word painfully reverberated in Koremitsu’s ears.

Even though Hikaru was dead, she continued to vent her frustration on him. Exactly what kind of relationship did she have with him?

''Exactly what kind of lie did Hikaru tell?''

''Well...it has nothing to do with me anyway...''

The prayer recital started, and the place became thick in a solemn atmosphere.

The woman who looked so very similar to Hikaru, still sitting in the chair designated for family members, kept her head lowered.

The girl with the black ribbon who had been lambasting Hikaru started to fade away from Koremitsu’s mind.

When it was his turn to offer incense, he held onto the sandalwood, closed his eyes and lowered his head.

''What exactly did he mean when he said ‘There’s something I want to ask of you’?''

However, there was a question that he just couldn’t get his mind off of.

Of course, it was impossible for Hikaru’s corpse in the coffin to give any answers.

Once the funeral ended, Koremitsu left. It was still raining outside - the weather dark and humid.

''It’s so troublesome to carry an umbrella around...''

He trod through the wet ground as he walked out.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">—Mr. Akagi.</span>

For a moment, Koremitsu thought he heard someone call his name.

He stopped in his tracks and looked back.

''...Maybe I’m just hearing things.''

There were two girls in school uniform behind him - the ones who were demanding the funeral’s attention moments ago - their shoulders now cringing, their bodies shivering as they sunk in the soppy ground.

Koremitsu felt an acute bitterness at their spectacle, and arching his back he continued away with a step.

''Why is it that such a vulgar person had to visit Mr Hikaru’s funeral?''

Koremitsu clicked his tongue, hearing the funeral’s disapproving murmur of the girls behind him.

<div style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-size: x-large; letter-spacing: 1.0em">♢ ♢ ♢</span></div>

There were people in this world who were easily misunderstood.

The fifteen years of misfortune Koremitsu Akagi suffered was primarily due to his appearance.

He looked like he was brooding all the time, his eyes were often lowered and held an air of arrogance and derision, the mouth curled downward with unhappiness.

He had a stiff face that hinted of nothing amicable. His appearance was ominous - a sharp complexion, an arched spine, his scraggy body, and unkempt red-brown hair made him appear as though a complete delinquent should.

He replayed the host of misunderstandings he had experienced growing up.

When he was in kindergarten, students were scared of Koremitsu’s savage expression and would back away from him in any social exchange. During his entrance ceremony in primary school, the girl sitting beside Koremitsu suddenly broke into wailing, and the other children nearby started to cry as well after noticing her, causing a raucous uproar of tearful children.

As things turned out, Koremitsu was accused of bullying the girl, and the mothers would teach their children not to play with him. Consequentially, Koremitsu lived a lonely life.

During middle school, Koremitsu got tangled with some upperclassmen hanging around empty lots on the school compound. In the process of getting away from them, he inadvertently earned himself the monikers of ‘The King of Fighting’, ‘The King of Delinquents,’ and similar designations. With these names, he came to be viewed as a dangerous person. Koremitsu resultantly could not make a single friend in middle school.

And then, there was that unforgettable graduation ceremony.

While his classmates cried to one another as they parted ways, Koremitsu was isolated by them, an outcast left alone among the wilting sakura trees. There he thought to himself, “''I can’t let this continue.”''

Once Koremitsu entered high school, he made it his priority to forge new friendships to avoid the scornful pain of being called ‘Red Devil’, ‘The Man of Disaster’, ‘The Savage-looking, Wild Dog’, and other things.

That was what he decided.

However, on the day before the high school entrance ceremony, Koremitsu got hit by a truck at an intersection with lots of traffic, and abruptly found himself hospitalized for a month to recuperate.

After the accident, Koremitsu’s aunt, who was also his guardian, went into a frenzy.

''“Why do you get involved in one trouble after another! It was a miracle that you managed to pass the exam of a prestigious private school locally, and yet you ruin it by excusing yourself from the ceremony for the hospital? Even primary schoolers don’t get run over on crosswalks!”''

And went on a furious display.

Koremitsu would finally be released from grim life in a hospital bed, and the time had come for that eventful day where he could come to his new school for the first time.

He had a crutch tucked under his right armpit, his left hand in a cast, and his head wrapped in bandages as he walked down the long courtyard corridor.

''“Damn it...where the heck is the staff room?”''

He wanted to ask for directions, but everyone frantically parted aside at his sight, and before realizing it, Koremitsu had come upon a place devoid of that great mass of humanity in the halls.

It was a large courtyard, where beautiful trees were neatly arranged, stones of all shapes and sizes bedighted the verdant landscape, and even sparkling bodies of water were found throughout.

Heian Academy was a school of remarkable fame that offered an integrated program of enrollment from its affiliated kindergarten to the university, and its dignitaries spent great sums of wealth specifically creating the courtyard.

During the previous winter, he came to Heian school for an entrance exam and was simply astounded by the school’s cleanliness and courtyard. He thought that since he could enter such a prestigious school, he would not have to face those upperclassmen who would go crazy without warning and pull out the knives from their modified uniforms and that he could look forward to getting along with his classmates.

However, people were sure to keep their distance from him when Koremitsu entered this new school for the first time, and even ended up lost.

''Damn it...everyone’s judging each other based on looks.''

''They’re saying my parents got me into this school through Mafia connections - that I fought some sort of delinquent army from another school and nearly killed them all, and that I was hospitalized as a result.''

''Hey, I can hear your insults! If you want to badmouth me like that, do it somewhere I can’t hear it, okay!? I deserve to be treated with the bare minimum of manners, do you hear me!?''

Sulkily, he proceeded down the corridor, his crutch sounding a tap with each start forward to accentuate his gait.

There seemed to be someone standing in the shadow of a pillar in front of him.

The person was simply standing there and looked like he was simply leaning on the pillar. He was wearing a blazer and slacks—''is he a guy?''

The morning sunlight that shone into the atrium lit this soft hair, radiating a golden brilliance from his profile.

Why was such a person standing at this place so early in the morning?

Anyway, Koremitsu felt saved by the sight of this lone figure.

He wanted to approach them to ask where the office was, but they turned toward Koremitsu before he could start.

''Huh? A girl?''

The person had a softly delicate face, and therewith confusion struck Koremitsu. He wondered why a girl should be wearing a boy’s uniform

''No, wait, that’s a guy– right?''

Their clear eyes narrowed, and a warm smile splayed across their remarkably amiable countenance. The person’s fine lips started to move.

“Mr Akagi.”

They let out a sweet voice.

Their voice almost held an allurement, as it reached the ears softly and gently, almost feeling like it had penetrated the very core of his essence. Koremitsu instantaneously froze.

''“You’re the first year, Mr Koremitsu Akagi. This is the first time you’re stepping into the school, right?”''

''“...How do you know my name?”''

Koremitsu eyed the boy wearily. Hikaru continued without a hint of dishonesty.

''“Any freshmen like yourself would become the talk around here. It’s said that you fought against a delinquent army, beat ten opponents to near death, became the 27th gang leader and the legendary ‘King of the Delinquents’. It’s also said that the injuries you sustained were marks of honor from battle, right?”''

There was no one who dared to approach Koremitsu and talk, let alone someone who did not fear him, facing him head on and exposing a blissful smile.

That was why Koremitsu felt somewhat puzzled instead of upset over being called a gang leader here.

For some reason, the boy felt he could really talk with someone called a gang leader so nonchalantly...

''For someone who looked like a girl, he sure has guts, huh? Or is he just slow? Or is he planning something?''

Koremitsu told Hikaru the truth - that his face of a rebel’s was something he was born with, that the injuries were a result of him being knocked down by a truck, that there were really no gang leaders around, and that he was not a delinquent.

''“Then why did you block the truck with your body?”''

He met the earnest question sidelong.

''“...A coincidence.”''

''“That makes quite the coincidence!”''

''“It can’t be helped. It was just that - coincidental.”''

''“Hmm, but I don’t think a truck like that is something you could run into accidentally.”''

''“...”''

He really didn’t want to talk about the incident.

To Koremitsu, who was not used to having others talk to him, the way this boy spoke to him so naturally caused him to feel butterflies in his stomach.

The manner in which the boy looked back at him was like he was staring at a rare animal on exhibition, and it felt repulsive.

''“...Where’s the staff room?”''

Koremitsu curtly inquired this original intent of starting the conversation with the boy to end the butterflies presently aflutter in his gut, but the other person did not seem to mind.

''“Head straight down, and at the end, turn left, go up the stairs, and onto the second level.”''

And he even guided Koremitsu.

''“Oh, I see.”''

The sound of the pine crutch clattered again, and as they were to pass by each other inside, Koremitsu had his name called again.

''“Mr Akagi, I forgot my Classics textbook today. Can you please lend me yours?”''

Huh?

Koremitsu stopped thinking for a moment.

''Why ask me to lend a textbook all of a sudden?''

Koremitsu turned around and saw the other person staring right at him with his clear eyes.

''“...Our class doesn’t have Classics today.”''

He answered as he tried to guess the other person’s intention.

''“Eh, that’s too bad.”''

He mused, giving off a meaningful smile,

''“Then, I’ll come over to your class to borrow your textbook then, Mr Akagi. There’s something I want to ask of you, too.”''

''“Something you want to ask of me? What is it?”''

It escalated from a simple request for borrowing a textbook to a request of personal favor, and this suspicious segue caused Koremitsu to frown.

''“I’m Hikaru Mikado of Class 1. See you next time.”''

He waved his arm widely and walked off to the courtyard.

The image of that dazzling smile, a smile he thought brilliant as the sun, etched itself deeply into Koremitsu's mind.

''“Kyah! Lord Hikaru!” “Good morning, Master Hikaru!”'' The girls’ jubilant yells could be heard from the other side of a forest.

Koremitsu could only look stunned as he listened to the screams fade in the distance.

That was one week ago.

A week later, Koremitsu, who had his cast and crutch removed, saw the girls crying and wailing as he entered school, and heard the news that “‘Lord Hikaru’ has died.”

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''In the end, Mikado never borrowed the textbook from me, and we only managed to talk once.''

The road was dark, and the rain caused Koremitsu’s vision to blur on his walk home.

He had been thinking about Hikaru’s situation ever since the moment he left the funeral parlor.

''There’s nothing I can do...''

Their sole meeting left a huge impact on Koremitsu, and the events of the funeral added to this experience.

Still, Koremitsu understood practically nothing about the person named Hikaru Mikado. Koremitsu still found himself thoroughly captivated by his casual attitude, his equally earnest demeanor and smile; it all remained an enigma.

''What kind of person was Hikaru like, in reality?''

''If that guy didn’t die, if he’s still alive...will he really come over to borrow my textbook?''

''He will open the classroom door forcefully, give a radiant smile,''

''“Mr Akagi! I forgot my textbook!”''

''And it'll be in a cheery tone, I guess?''

This scene flashed through his mind in an instant, and his very core seared with a grating sensation. Perhaps this was the little sadness he had for the life of a 15 year old who had his life ended.

The downpour grew stronger.

The wooden home his grandfather built was located away from city center, a place functioning as a calligraphy house. By the time he got back, his messy red hair was sticking on his eyelids and ears.

He opened the main entrance, and in the doorway his aunt Koharu stood, holding some coarse salt.

“Koremitsu, turn your back around!”

She ordered him sternly.

Koharu would normally dress herself up in a jersey with rolled up sleeves and hem, her hair neatly tied behind her head with grace. A divorcée, she had returned home to work on an internet marketplace business on the computer. At this point, she, Koremitsu and his grandfather were the only people living together.

He followed what she said and turned around, and soon after, the sound of salt being sprinkled on him rang.

''Isn’t this too much salt for purification? Are you trying to marinate me with salt?!''

But even though he thought so, he chose to remain silent in light of the fact that the highest seat of authority in the household was gradually transferring from his grandfather over to his uncle, he chose to remain silent.

“Alright, turn around again.”

He turned around, and a large helping of salt was sprinkled on his legs. His sopping wet clothes became littered with salt grains.

“The water in the bath is boiled. Go in a wash. Once you’re done, have dinner, and don’t dily-daly around.”

She spoke with masculine tone.

Suddenly, there was a snicker from behind.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Mr Akagi‘s sister really seems to be violent and interesting. And she looks just like you.”</span>

“Hm?”

At that moment, Koremitsu stopped in his tracks.

''What is it?''

He thought he heard some unfamiliar voice here....

''No, I probably misheard.''

Koremitsu thought that he was tired as he was not used to attending funerals. Taking the towel Koharu handed over, he put it over his head and went on towards the bathroom.

After a soak in the bath, his body would feel relieved, and his mind refreshed.

He took off his blazer, undid the buttons of the damp and uncomfortable shirt, and took off his chaps.

The moment he opened the glass door of the bathroom, he heard that sweet voice ring again.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">"Heh - you look rather lean, but those muscles make you look much different from me. As expected of the king of the delinquents."</span>

''I'm not a delinquent.''

No, before arguing back, who was the person talking to him just now?

His grandfather's voice was not this young, and his voice was too mild to be Koharu's.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">"If I strip myself naked now, most of them will say that I'm pretty, look like a girl and have white silky skin or something. That really hurts my pride as a man here."</span>

The voice seemed to be taunting him as its charming lure fell upon Koremitsu’s ears. This sweet voice seemed oddly similar to the voice of the boy he heard when they met in the corridor.

However, that boy should have died several days ago; Koremitsu did attend the funeral earlier that day and even burned incense.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">"Your arms are rather lean too, but they sure look firm. That's my ideal size there."</span>

Can a hallucination actually last this long here?

The voice felt so clear too, as if it was coming down from just above his head—

Incidentally, Koremitsu shifted his head to that direction, and in the next moment, screamed.

“UWWAAAHHH!!?”

''How!? That boy with an angelic face - dressed in school uniform! Hikaru Mikado!''

''At the ceiling of the bathroom! Surrounded by steam!''

''He was floating in the air!''

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Uh, huh? Are you able to see me here, Mr Akagi?”</span>

With the possibility realized, Hikaru’s levitating body let out a cheer.

His hair, which looked golden with light partially filtered through its locks, lifted by a stray breeze as it swayed atop Hikaru’s small head.

Koremitsu grabbed the edge of the bathtub, his mouth still agape - his chin looked like it was going to fall to the ground. Hikaru reflexively widened his eyes peering down upon him. Hikaru’s vaporous figure seemed just like an angel’s, descended onto the Earth before Koremitsu. If he swapped his uniform for a bathrobe, the scintillating radiance could be to blindening effect.

Koremitsu met Hikaru’s eyes, panting in conflict with the incredulity of it all.

“Are– aren’t you already dead...?”

With no delay, his aunt Koharu slid open the glass panel and yelled into the bathhouse.

“What is it, Koremitsu!? Did you fall and hit your head? Don’t tell me you have to be hospitalized again!”

In her right hand was the kitchen knife, manifestly because she was halfway through with the preparation of dinner.

“Ko-Koharu...there...”

Koremitsu shuddered as he pointed to the ceiling.

There was an effeminate specter in uniform floating before them. It was unknown if Hikaru was naturally genteel or if he went out of his way to treat girls so kindly, as he showed a smile for Koharu.

If she were a girl in her teens, she would have melted like a soft-serve. Her voice was yet somehow fraught with a tone suggestive of murderous intent as she derided Koremitsu for this commotion.

“Hah!? Did a cockroach stick on you? You’re not a girl. Don’t yap around like that because of such a small thing.”

“Can’t you see!?”

“Well, I can’t see any cockroach or centipede from here.”

''Isn’t there a guy wearing school uniform here!?''

He wanted to yell it, but disposed of the thought after seeing her expression, signaling she might swing the menacing cooking knife upon him without hesitation.

Koharu shut the glass door and left.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“That’s a fierce older sister you have.”</span>

Hikaru glazed over the fact that his trademark smile was ineffective as he said this.

Meanwhile, in Koremitsu’s mind.

''Calm down... Calm down...''

Koremitsu repeated this to himself as he frantically sought the composure to figure out what was happening.

Hikaru Mikado, who should, by all means, be dead, appeared quite alive in Koremitsu’s very bathroom.

He had legs, but his wispy body floated in the air.

And Hikaru was not visible to Koharu.

Koremitsu looked tentatively toward the mirror on the bathroom wall, saw that there was only his naked self. reflected with a haze of steam, and looked back to Hikaru again.

He was still there.

Koremitsu again looked at the mirror.

The red-haired, wiry boy with menacing eyes went pale to the image he saw.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Well, Mr Akagi.”</span>

The voice closed in.

“!”

Koremitsu turned, seeing Hikaru behind him like a pet trainer ready for work with an overexcited canine, who said calmly.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“It’s just like what you said, Mr Akagi. I truly am dead now. This is why I feel this form must be my ghost.”</span>

Hikaru paused in contemplation.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Yes, this much has to be the case. I’m not too sure of what it means to be a ghost, but I feel I am even without knowing a strict definition. I prefer the feeling of a fantastical existence over some convoluted science fiction, so it’s better this way. You should see me in this light, too, Mr Akagi.”</span>

''What good is that? How can you be so convinced you’re right!? A dead person suddenly appearing before the living is simply a fantasy to you!? This is a disturbance of reality, not imagination!''

He felt this wave of derision in his heart, but Koremitsu did not express it.

The only time when he actually believed in ghosts was in his days as a fledgling in school—a product of immaturity. Withal, the mirror’s reflection bereft of a certain Hikaru still remained.

Koremitsu became tangled in the conflicted twine of common sense and observation.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Here, have a look.”</span>

Hikaru reached his white, slender hand to touch Koremitsu’s. It passed through him, and the skin and bone went through to the other side.

Koremitsu held in a powerful compellence to shriek. He did not want to see the sight of someone else’s hand passing through his like that. It was all too illogical to him. He had goosebumps all over his body as if there crept a centipede on his back.

Koremitsu reeled the shaken hand back to his chest, breathed a series of deep breaths, and said, “A—assuming that this is reality, and I’m not a ghost, even if you are a ghost, why must you appear in my bathroom?”

They were not friends.

They were not classmates at all.

They merely had that single interaction at Heian.

Hikaru gave a stunningly captivating look with those clear eyes to Koremitsu.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“It’s not sudden at all. I’ve been above you ever since you were at the funeral parlor. I called you ‘Mr Akagi’ during the funeral, and you looked back, remember?”</span>

Koremitsu stupefied over Hikaru’s words.

''It was true that I felt someone calling me when I was returning home. So this guy here has been floating above my head ever since that moment!? Has he been tailing me from behind when I walked home!?''

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“At that moment, I was wondering if I was stuck on you, Mr Akagi. Of course, that’s in occult terms.”</span>

“Oi! Why me? What did I do to incur your vengeance? Did you want to become the 27<sup>th</sup> chief or something? You want to fight me because I surpassed you? Did you talk to me on the corridor because of this? In that case, I’ll give that position to you. You can call yourself whatever you want here. Or I can go engrave it on your tombstone too, with a carving knife.”

Koremitsu’s forehead had crossed veins popping with agitation. Hikaru made a relaxed smile as he replied.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Not at all. I don’t have a grudge with you at all.”</span>

“Then why?”

Koremitsu eyed him, Hikaru returning the gaze shamelessly.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Didn’t we have a promise?”</span>

“Huh?”

Koremitsu was dumbfounded.

''What promise?''

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“I had something I wanted to ask of you when I approached you to borrow the textbook.”</span>

A charming grin splayed across Hikaru’s face as he looked at Koremitsu.

Koremitsu did not care about his awkwardness as he leaned his body forward to view Hikaru.

“Hey, what is it that you requested me for?”

Ever since he heard of Hikaru’s death, Koremitsu could not help but feel bothered by it, as if there were a bone stuck in his throat.

What was the “matter” Hikaru wanted to tell him of?

Hikaru requested him, someone, he did not know, someone whom he had met for the first time.

Hikaru requested Koremitsu, someone who was infamous for being a savage delinquent - someone others would shy away from.

Hikaru’s smile disappeared, and his expression turned to sadness. He averted his gaze and fell silent with Koremitsu’s question.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“...”</span>

''Hey, why isn’t he saying anything now? Why does he look so upset?''

Koremitsu became impatient with Hikaru’s now-solemn expression.

He felt an uncomfortable cold sweat as he awaited a reason behind the silence. At this moment, Hikaru curled his lips and gave a thin smile.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“About that...forget about it.”</span>

He muttered it softly.

“Huh!? What does that mean!?”

Koremitsu’s tone had inadvertently become gruff. The situation developed into something Hikaru would feel bad about, so the forcefulness of Koremitsu’s reply came to be lamentable.

“Don’t try to pull a fast one on me. You’d better tell me the truth here.”

Koremitsu puffed his cheeks as Hikaru clapped his powdery white hands together and apologized.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“I’m sorry. Actually, I think I had a little memory loss when I died. I can’t remember now.”</span>

''Are you kidding me!?''

Koremitsu shot him an interrogative stare, Hikaru smiling back once more.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“However, it’s rare to have such a promise, and since we’ve met even after my death, I would like to ask you for another request.”</span>

“Another request, you say!?”

Hikaru nodded obediently.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Yes. I’m definitely stuck with you, so I hope that I can get your help here.”</span>

Hikaru’s eyes peered into Koremitsu with an inexplicable gravity - like everything in the vicinity would succumb to their power.

The prince of the school.

Koremitsu could finally understand why everyone at school gave Hikaru this nickname; it was beseeming of his majestic, regal presence.

''—I can be forgiven by anyone no matter what I do.''

Koremitsu nearly agreed to do anything the other party wanted after beholding their lovely grin.

''Not good!''

He did not know why, but his instincts rang alarm from deep within.

He had the vexatious feeling that he would be pulled along by Hikaru’s front if things kept up. The realization jolted through him like lightning.

“Koremitsu! How long are you going to talk to yourself in the bathroom like that!? Have you become friends with the cockroach!? Get out once you’re done!”

Koharu had again slammed the glass panel open to yell.

“Oh, okay.”

Koremitsu hurriedly reached down to retrieve a bucket for covering his lower body.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“...She says I’m a cockroach?”</span>

Hikaru mused, seemingly devastated by this.

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<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Wow! A Chabudai. To think that it still exists in Japan.”</span>

While Koremitsu, Koharu and his grandfather were having dinner in the dining room, Hikaru floated about the house - seeming everything the princely magnate who had happened upon a lowly peasant’s home. He would exclaim whatever he could spot, observing with wide eyes each room’s contents, exposing an unaffected smile as he roamed.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Ah, the yam’s cooked! It looks really delicious oily like this~ So good. It has that motherly flair to it. I want to try it out too~”</span>

Koremitsu, who started to grab his chopsticks to cater to his salivating tongue, felt his hunger partially subsided with the famished set of eyes probing him at the table.

''Aren’t you a ghost? You can’t eat.''

Koremitsu wanted to speak, but he stopped himself after seeing Koharu and his grandfather continue their meal with their usual expressions.

''Looks like gramps and Koharu really can’t see this.''

The recurred proof of his situation caused another headache for Koremitsu.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Hey, this piece of calligraphy is written expertly. Who wrote it?”</span>

''Gramps.''

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“What’s this raccoon decoration here for?”</span>

''Who knows?''

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Ah, this sliding door is covered by sticking Washi over it. Ah, here too! Did you repair them by yourselves? That’s very handy of you.”</span>

''Don’t go cooing over such minor things.''

Taking his chopsticks again, he grimaced at Hikaru.

“Koremitsu, what have you been looking at since just now?”

Koharu asked the question, not for an answer but to give Koremitsu a warning. Koremitsu’s venerable grandfather, having been born before the war, also lectured him.

“Don’t drop rice all over the place. You’ll get divine retribution.”

Koremitsu cringed his neck.

Hikaru was meanwhile admiring the sliding door with fascination, “Ah, this is covered up with chiyogami and cut in the shape of a tortoise shell...”

Koremitsu thought that this was all Hikaru was doing.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Mr Akagi, Kokeshi Dolls! The Kokeshi Dolls are lined up. Do you collect them? They’re really cute! These narrow eyes are really a form of Japanese Beauty!”</span>

Here Hikaru was thrilled over sundry baubles again.

''Shut up over there! You’re already dead!''

Koremitsu had stopped himself from speaking out of irritation for another time that day.

He would be troubled if Hikaru’s airy form might squat in a room of the house as a baleful ghost seeking vengeance for a misdeed.

Either way, he felt the need to make haste in taking Hikaru out of his sight, lest Koharu and his grandfather misunderstand anything more.

Koremitsu would normally eat an extra serving of rice for dinner, but that luxury had to be forgone.

“I’m going away.”

He let out a low growl as he muttered, “Why act so cool when you’re just returning to your own room here? You want to go raid a yakuza base or something here!?”

Koharu had yapped something back.

“First, sit down before we begin.”

Koremitsu returned to his room, closed the door, threw a cushion onto the tatami and ordered Hikaru.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Mr Akagi, I am happy that you’re inviting me with a cushion as well, but I don’t suppose there’s any significance in giving me a cushion. However, I do understand your intentions.”</span>

Hikaru bent his knees slightly over the cushion as he floated in the air.

Koremitsu started.

“WHO’S WELCOMING YOU HERE!? THE HAIRS ON MY BACK ARE STANDING WHEN YOU’RE FLOATING IN FRONT OF ME LIKE THIS. AT LEAST PUT YOUR FEET—no, wait, knees on the floor—ANYWAY, IF YOU WANT ME TO LISTEN TO YOU HERE, YOU’D BETTER SHOW ME THAT YOU’RE SINCERELY TRYING TO ASK ME HERE!”

Koremitsu’s face had changed colors as he yelled.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Okay, I understand.”</span>

Unexpectedly, Hikaru knelt down onto the floor and put his knees together to sit properly on the cushion.

Even so, he was practically sitting in a ‘Seiza’, and his back looked straighter than Koremitsu’s, who sat with his back arched. It was perfect other than the fact that the cushion did not sink at all.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Is this good? Are you willing to listen to me now?”</span>

Hikaru flashed his trademark smile of allure.

''How do I say this? This guy...can really mess up my rhythm.''

Koremitsu thought as he sat cross-legged on the floor.

“Well, I’ll just hear you out now.”

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“If possible, I hope that you can help me, too. Actually, there is a girl I can’t let go of in my heart. Her birthday’s coming soon, and on the last day of Golden Week, I sent a letter attached with Lilacs to her home.”</span>

''Why must you use plant stems to tie the envelope? Can’t you send her a phone message?''

Koremitsu was perplexed.

Then, Hikaru’s eyes and lips looked like they were emitting sweetness as he read aloud the envelope’s contents.

In a letter, he wrote, <span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“This is the first present. I prepared another 6 gifts for your birthday. Please look forward to it.”</span>

''Are women greedy enough not to be satisfied without receiving 7 gifts? Don’t you have to spend lots of money if you have to give 7 gifts for every birthday? Before we even talk about that, how were you able to think of what 7 presents to give?''

To Koremitsu, gift giving for a lady was a concept from another dimension.

Hikaru seemed melancholy now.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“As you can see, I’m already dead, and I’m unable to fulfill my promise. Would you please hand the presents to her in my stead?”</span>

“So, you’re requesting me to do something related to a girl here.”

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Yes. To me, she is a very important girl.”</span>

Hikaru’s eyebrows perked up as he showed his ever sweet, soft charm. Koremitsu showed a contrastingly unhappy expression.

“I’m not doing it.”

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Eh—!? Wa-wait, aren’t you rejecting me too quickly here, Mr Akagi?”</span>

This was the first time Hikaru, who had been so carefree even after becoming a ghost, showed signs of faltering.

Koremitsu kept frowning, “I won’t talk about requests concerning girls.”

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Why!?”</span>

“Gramps told me not to get close to girls.”

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“What does that mean?”</span>

“20 years ago, his wife - my grandmother - said that she wanted to start a second life, and left divorce letters before she went off.”

Ever since it happened to him, his grandfather’s catchphrase was that “women are all like this,” and he would often quarrel with Koremitsu’s aunt Koharu as a divorcée who often said in the same derisive manner that “men are all like this.” According to Koharu, it was to be expected that Koremitsu’s grandmother could not stand his grandfather.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“This...this might have been quite a shock to your grandfather, but your grandmother can’t possibly represent all females.”</span>

“During the first year of my elementary school, the woman called my mother dumped my father and me, and eloped with another guy.”

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Uw!”</span>

Hikaru was immediately rendered speechless.

“And also, the guy she went with was my homeroom teacher.”

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Ehh.”</span>

“And then, half a year later, my dad died of a heart attack.”

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Is-is that so. You’ve really had it tough up til now. Your– your father really suffered quite a tragedy too...but this girlfriend of mine won’t hand me divorce papers or elope with another guy. It's not like I want you to go out with her or get married either. I just want you to send her the presents on her birthday, and then I can go to Heaven happily. See, it’ll be bothersome if I keep sticking alongside you all the time, right?”</span>

The meaning hidden within those words was that Hikaru was threatening Koremitsu with continued haunting unless his request was made. Hikaru retained a pitiful expression.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Please~? It’s a very important promise. I don’t have any real friends, so I can only ask you here, Mr Akagi.”</span>

“You’re actually saying that you have no friends? Keep trying to bluff me here. Aren’t you some extremely popular socialite?”

He was born with a dazzling appearance, and his personality was so refreshing it was endearing. He was also the ‘Prince’ of the school, someone surrounded by obsequious followers. To Koremitsu, it was an infuriating thing someone like him could say they “did not have any friends.”

''How could this flippant guy understand the pain of being left aside when the teachers instruct the students to ‘team up in pairs’ during Physical Education or Arts classes?''

''Everyone scattered from me like spiders when I was just walking around, asking for directions to the teachers’ staff room. There was no one I could talk with during class breaks, a ten minute duration that felt so much longer in solitude, and I could only use that time to keep revising work. How can some naïve young lord like you understand the pain of being excluded?''

Hikaru shrugged his shoulders in spite of Koremitsu’s pain, muttering sadly.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“It’s true...I was always popular with the girls ever since I was in kindergarten, and all the girls in class wanted to be my girlfriend. During the class meetings in primary school, they went through a long discussion, which amounted to ‘Hikaru belongs to everyone, so no one can escape with him here,’ and this sort of pact was formed.”</span>

''...Is he just bragging? Besides, those elementary school students were just being a nuisance to use a majority vote to decide that.''

The more Koremitsu listened, the more his lips started to twist in a frown.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“But, because of this, the boys would often exclude me.”</span>

Koremitsu’s ears suddenly twitched to the admission.

''You were...excluded?''

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“It was the same during Physical Education Class. Nobody would pair up with me.”</span>

Koremitsu’s ears twitched again.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“It was the same when I entered middle school. I was called up by a group to the back of the sports hall who said that I had snatched their girlfriends. They were looking for trouble with me...making all sorts of bad rumors to a point where none of the boys in class was willing to speak up for me...”</span>

Koremitsu imagined that scene and felt a pain in his chest as if there was something lodged within.

He understood more than anyone else the pain of being excluded due to vilified rumors.

He recalled how he had to eat lunch alone during noon break - how he would noiselessly move his chopsticks with the boisterous laughter and conversation of his classmates in the background. He recalled the unruly classmates overcome by boredom who would scrawl over his table with compasses, calling him undesirable names like “Sam,” “John,” and other maddening things.

Every time he played through those memories, his eyes felt hot.

''Is that so? So this guy understands such pain?''

''So he’s lived through similarly bitter days?''

''He wants to fulfill a promise to a girl he can’t let go of in his heart, but he has no friends. He’s so lonely that he can only rely on me.''

''Is that so? Is that how it is?''

''This is really unbearable, damn it.''

“It...it can’t be helped...I’ll just help send the presents in your stead.”

Koremitsu had batted his eyelashes, and looking away from Hikaru, said this with a stiff tone.

Hikaru heaved a sigh of relief.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“Thank you! I knew that you’ll help me, Mr Akagi. Really, thank you.”</span>

The words so fraught with unadulterated graciousness and trust caused something hot to rise up Koremitsu’s throat.

“I have to go to...the toilet.”

Hurriedly, he left the room to avoid letting others catch glimpse of the acidic droplets collected on the corners of his eyes.

Koremitsu opened the restroom door, wiping away his tears on his way inside. Giving a sigh of relief himself, he took off his pyjamas pants and underwear at once—

“!”

There was a remorseful Hikaru floating above the toilet bowl.

“WAH!? WHY MUST YOU FOLLOW ME HERE!? AND YOU’RE EVEN EYING MY PRIVATES IN HERE! ARE YOU A PERVERT!?”

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“I saw both front and back earlier when you were in the bathroom.”</span>

In the face of a very flustered Koremitsu, Hikaru inhaled and made a stern expression.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“There is something unfortunate I have to tell you of.”</span>

“Wha-what is it?”

Koremitsu held onto the air in his lungs as he listened, Hikaru trying his best to lighten the shock as he calmly explained.

<span style="font-family:Times Roman;font-style: italic;">“It seems that no matter where you go, I will be dragged along with you. Please, don’t mind me and continue normally.”</span>

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