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Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2014-08-31T02:50:39Z

99.232.22.58: /* [Orange & Wine] */ Comment on bath and me

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Did you hear that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?" 

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone around me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, with her being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of our earlier talk," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa and the others had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' had added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we talk!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make an 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signaled for her to take a seat. She obediently sat down while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I assured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for. 

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasize like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?".

Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had instead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!" 

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you in the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving behind only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in the midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it with me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

On the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparse as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from the front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy, and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent without notice from the cooking school she works at," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call." 

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The ceaseless rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it stand out from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone on the way, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore by the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully at my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table against the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{GekkouNavbar
| [[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]
| [[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]
}}
</noinclude>

Gekkou:Volume 1 In The Café

2014-08-30T17:40:28Z

99.232.22.58: /* [In The Café] */

==[In The Café]==

All of a sudden Tsukimori came to my desk and said, with a smile as warm as sunbeams shining through the leaves of a tree and a voice as soft as a gentle summer breeze:

"Shall we go then, Nonomiya-kun?"

Time stopped in the noisy classroom. At least, my train of thought did.

Everyone suspended what he or she was doing and looked over to us. Usami was the first to regain time.

"...eh? Youko-san? Are you tagging along with Nonomiya? Why? Eeh?"

Her bewilderment made her look like one of those automatons that jump out of striking clocks every hour.

"I wanted to pay the café Nonomiya-kun works at a visit since I heard it's very comfortable there. And as you know, I have been quite busy lately, so I was a little tired and thought about relaxing there while enjoying a cup of tea. Well, that's why ''I asked'' Nonomiya-kun!"

Tsukimori was obviously taking into consideration that we were being watched by our classmates.

"Is that true, Nonomiya?"

I had already expected that I would be the next target to be questioned.

"It is."

Thus, I somehow managed not to reveal my discontent.

"Maybe I should join you..."

I almost blacked out upon hearing her murmur. Tsukimori alone was already enough trouble—I couldn't manage both of them at the same time.

"Aren't your club activities waiting for you?"

Usami was in the volleyball club. She was gifted with strength in her arms that didn't suit her small body: her spikes made the guys look old. I remembered all too well how relieved I was to be on the same team after witnessing her spike during PE.

"I-I'll skip!"

"Don't. Didn't you say only recently that you were on the brink of becoming a regular player? It would be foolish to skip your club activities during such an important period."

Usami pressed her lips into a line and grumbled with a frown.

"Let's go together some other time, Chizuru. I will memorize where the café is for you, today. Okay?"

Tsukimori admonished her gently like a caring sister, whereupon Usami obediently nodded, "Okay."

One problem solved. I then went on getting rid of the remaining issues.

"It's really just you who's coming, right? If the whole bunch were to come along, I'd have to refuse because that would only cause the café trouble."

That was a prompt. I indicated to Tsukimori that I would only give my consent if she cleared that condition.

"Don't worry, our classmates are so kind, they would never cause anyone trouble," she ensured with a ladylike smile, "See you tomorrow, everyone."

She elegantly waved her hand at her classmates.

They would have jumped at that chance for sure. The guys, among them Kamogawa, and the girls who admired Tsukimori put their disappointment clearly on display. But not one of them would even think of betraying angelic Youko Tsukimori's trust.

But equally, I was not capable enough to do something against the situation she had induced. I had no choice but to unwillingly go along with her.

Tsukimori walked with light steps towards the front gate.

"What are you up to?" I asked her delicate back, without hiding my bad mood.

Tsukimori turned around, making her long hair flutter in the wind.

"I am so curious about the café you work at," she said, without hiding her good mood.

"Answer me! You should know that I don't like standing out."

"Which is why I tried to prevent a commotion, didn't I?"

"That doesn't change the fact that we attracted attention."

"Well, tough luck."

"And whose fault is that...?" I was irritated by her out-and-out undaunted behavior. "Who told you that I work at a café anyway?"

"I heard it from rumors!"

"Don't lie."

It was well-known that I work part-time somewhere, but I hadn't told anyone at school that I was working at a café.

"What are you after?"

"What do you think I am, Nonomiya-kun? It is not strange at all to desire to learn more about the person in my heart, is it? This is what you call a pure girl's heart."

"You claim to be a pure girl? Laughable. Let me assert this for you: you are nowhere near as harmless as that."

I sneered.

"You know, looking so mature can be a real bother at such times. I am still just a seventeen-year-old girl. Besides, I have only recently lost my father, so I think you ought to be gentler to me, Nonomiya-kun," pouted Tsukimori. I was surprised that she could make such childish expressions, too.

But that was as far as it went. Of course I felt sorry for her, but in the end it was still none of my business.

"See you tomorrow."

I accelerated my pace and put some distance between me and Tsukimori.

"Where are you going? There's the back gate."

"Unlike you, I commute by bicycle and not by train. If you can keep up with my speed, I shall take the special trouble and guide you to the café?" I was deliberately cold. I couldn't be bothered to adjust to others. And I cared even less to have someone enter my territory without authorization. 

"Yes, let's go with that. I just hope my back will not hurt from it, but well, I have always wanted do that once."

However, Tsukimori was even less harmless than I had expected. Before I knew it, she was walking next to me.

"...what are you thinking?"

"I have always wanted to do that at least once! Riding a bicycle à deux."

"When did I say I'd let you?"

"Don't worry. I should not be too heavy."

"That wasn't the question."

I was annoyed. As she showed no restraint I decided on saying my piece without restraint as well.

"I admit that I should be gentler to you as you've just lost your father. However, I don't feel like dancing to your tune like the others, not in the least. Not everyone is considerate towards you, keep that in mind. At least now that I know your true nature, I might still feel sympathy but I am certainly not favorable towards you," I rebuked her.

"Mmm! That's how my Nonomiya-kun has to be," Tsukimori nodded strongly, making a somewhat contented face. "I love this unashamed attitude."

My words had achieved the exact opposite effect. Wanting to put her off, I accidentally attracted her all the more.

Seeing my loss for words, she showed me her occasional big-sister-like smile.

"Won't you give me a chance? I have realized by now that my confession yesterday was overhasty! Just like you don't know how I really am, I don't know you well yet, either. I think it is necessary for both of us to deepen our mutual understanding. It's not too late to make a decision after coming to know each other better, right?"

Her opinion was fair enough.

But when I looked back at what had happened so far, I didn't feel like believing her words blindly.

I peeked into Tsukimori's eyes.

What was she thinking?

She did not avoid my glance in the slightest. In her big, almond-shaped eyes I could clearly see my own reflection.

It was I who gave in at last. I released her from my gaze and mounted my bicycle.

"—Get on."

"Thank you!"

I heard her cheerful voice.

After she had gotten on the carrier, I took off. She was light, just as she had said herself.

"Promise me that you won't do anything that would bring me into focus anymore like today."

"I'll do my best."

"No, not just your best, promise it."

"Nonomiya-kun, the wind feels so pleasant. Riding a bicycle together is even better than I thought."

I spotted our reflection in a street mirror. Tsukimori was holding her skirt down with her right hand, wrapping her left arm around me, and smiling dazzlingly while watching the town's scenery passing us by.

Completely unable to complain any more to a girl who entrusted her body to me, I just answered: "...Lucky you."

I kept on riding the bike while channeling all my unvoiced discontent and displeasure into pushing the pedals.

Be it because of envy or jealousy, I sensed some intensive gazes from other students on their way home. It was clear whose fault it was since I had never experienced anything of this kind when cycling alone.

I was riding a bicycle with ''Youko Tsukimori'' on the back.

This was one of those sweet moments that are worthy of being called a memory of adolescence. I, in the midst of this period of life, was probably supposed to pride myself on such an event that anyone would envy me for.

To tell the truth, I was proud enough to have a certain sense of superiority, believing that there was no one else who had something as noble as her on his carrier.

Well, this only lasted for the short while during which I forgot about her troublesome personality and the murder recipe.

During the following hours I would definitely turn into her toy, so I needed to be emotionally prepared.

I had accepted Tsukimori's request. The reason was simple: I was interested in her.

Apart from that, call it a property of mine or just a preference: I enjoyed these thrilling conversations with her.

I changed into my waiter uniform in the staff room; I put on narrow black slacks, did up the buttons of my white shirt and the black vest above, slipped into a pair of wing tip leather shoes and lastly I wound a rather long apron around my hips. After checking my appearance in front of the mirror, just to be sure, I headed to the kitchen.

The instant I entered the kitchen, my nose was tickled by the aromatic fragrance of coffee beans—a smell I was fond of.

The reason why I had chosen to work in this British-style café "Victoria" was, as a matter of fact, because the best coffee in the vicinity was served here.

Upon spotting me, my colleagues greeted me.

"Mister Kujirai?" I addressed the broad back of a man who was grinding coffee with a hand mill. The sturdy bespectacled addressee turned around with a warm smile. I continued, "I would be in charge of waiting the tables today, but may I change to the kitchen staff?"

"What's the matter?"

"It's a personal one, I'm afraid, but to tell the truth, a classmate of mine has come today."

"Eh? Why would you want to change your post then?"

"Well, I wouldn't be able to keep my classmate company. And besides, isn't it quite embarrassing to be watched while working?"

As if I would let her watch! I knew that my resistance was childish, but this was my last stand after having failed miserably at turning her down.

There was someone apart from the shop manager who reacted sharply to my words.

"Hey, Nonomiya! Is it a guy or a gal?" asked a woman who was clothed like a pastry cook and was putting some fruit on a parfait right beside me. "If it's a guy I'll switch with you. As long as he's my type, of course!"

The whole staff grimaced as if they had taken bitter medicine when they realized that Mirai-san's ''bad habit'' had appeared again.

Her full name was Mirai Samejima. Mirai-san was the oldest face among the people at Victoria, and even the manager took his hat off to her.

According to her, she was still in university, but looking at how she behaved more important than the manager on some days—no, make that "everyday"—she gave me the impression of being older than that.

[[Image:Gekkou-075.jpg|thumb]]

"Sorry to let you down, Mirai-san: it's a girl!"

"Hmph. Well, the fact that you brought a gal along gets me interested just as much."

With skillful movements Mirai-san quickly finished the parfait and, after throwing a piece of block chocolate into her mouth, tripped to the counter from where she had an overview of all the tables.

"Who is it? Come on, spill it."

She scowled over the counter into the shop while rolling the piece of chocolate in her mouth. The other staff members, too, didn't miss the chance and scanned the café from behind her.

I was hoping someone would remonstrate with them about their snoopy behavior, but even the one who was in the position to do so—the shop manager—was peeking with a face gleaming with curiosity.

Giving up, I admitted: "It's her," and pointed at Tsukimori who had taken a seat at the window and was sitting there like an unworldly, well-educated lady.

A cheer arose among the staff; the positive reaction of the guys was so blatant that I would have felt like an idiot if I had claimed that I had expected it.

"Damn! What a beauty! Way too good for you, Nonomiya, that's for sure!"

Mirai-san was apparently irritated with something and ran her iron fist into the pit of my stomach.

"...does anybody know why I deserve to be punched?"

My trembling question was only met with pitiful glances.

"You always act as if you didn't care two figs about love, but you do your thing in the background, huh, you sneaking lech!"

Apparently, Mirai-san mistook Tsukimori and me for lovers.

"...Mirai-chan and her new boyfriend haven't been getting along lately, you know," the manager whispered into my ear.

"So it's only a matter of time until they split up, I suppose?"

"...Probably," he nodded after backing off again.

Mirai-san could be categorized as pretty if she kept quiet. As a matter of fact, she was often approached by the other sex. However unfortunate, her looks were spoiled by her unyielding personality, which was also the reason why her relationships never lasted long. I knew of none, at least.

"Mhh!? Saruwatari!? Gotten all lovestruck or what?!"

"I-I haven't! I'm not lovestruck or anything!"

"Then you better stay that way!"

Today's sacrifice was Saruwatari-san. Mirai-san's sharp kick landed straight in his buttocks.

At times when she didn't get along with her boyfriend or when she broke up with one, her mood would take a free fall.

And we at Victoria just called that ill-humored Mirai-san "the beast". Unfortunately though, there was no hero in disguise at our café. As soon as the beast went berserk, there was no solution but to weather the storm.

"Mister Kujirai, I'm off waiting the tables."

"O-Okay, good luck."

Discretion is the better part of valor after all.

The kitchen resounded with the cries of the poor man who had become the prey of the beast.

Our café was not too big: there were eight tables and six counter seats. The staff consisted of a total of 5 people, two of which attended the customers while the others worked in the kitchen. But I very much liked that relaxed and comfortable atmosphere.

The mood of this British-style café was supported by appropriate antique tables and chairs. The various well-chosen decorations were apparently selected by the manager's British wife. Apropos, the name of the café was taken from his wife's first name.

With Victoria being located on the first floor of a multi-tenant building near the station and having an interior that should please the fairer sex, there were comparatively many young women like office ladies or college students.

When I came to take her order, Tsukimori scrutinized me from head to toe.

"Your garçon outfit looks handsome."

"Waiter" would have been the proper way to address the staff here, considering that it was designed in a British style, but "garçon" is apparently more common here in Japan.

Since I judged it to be too much a trifle to correct, I only thanked her casually with a smile, "Thanks," and added, "and a café goes well with you."

Tsukimori smiled back at me and replied "Thank you."

I was quite honest. A beautiful girl in a café always makes for a good picture.

"The staff are quite lively, aren't they?"

She moved her gaze towards the kitchen.

"You could hear the commotion from here? That sure is a problem for a shop in the service industry."

I placed a glass of water and a wet towel on the table.

"But it looks fun."

"I wonder about that; some even start crying once in a while. At any rate, I have confidence in our coffee. And none of our dishes are half bad."

"I see. I would like a cup of that good coffee then. And please add your recommended confectionery to the order."

"Then how about our recommended blend plus the owner's hand-made apple pie?"

Since Tsukimori nodded, I bowed respectfully and said "Certainly."

I forwarded the order to the kitchen staff.

"You sure are an unfriendly guy."

Mirai-san was there making a frown instead of food.

"You think so? Actually I am trying to be more amiable when I attend guests, though."

"When does that happen? To me, there's no difference. Seriously, what does she like about a guy like you?"

Her eyebrow raised, she sceptically mustered Tsukimori.

"I forgot to mention, but she is not my girlfriend."

"She isn't?"

"No. Just a classmate."

"Then tell me what a beauty and mere classmate wants from you."

"It's not me, it's the café. Apparently she is a fan of cafés."

Since there was no merit at all in telling her the truth, I just made something up.

"That's all? Boring."

"As always, you are so self-centered it's almost refreshing. I'm dead sure you would have been irritated even if she was my lover."

"It's refreshing because I'm honest! To begin with, I think there must be something wrong with those that are delighted about other people's happiness. Every one of them is either a hypocrite or just scheming something."

"A lovely opinion loaded with prejudice, I have to say."

I wasn't as dismissive as I may have appeared, though. In fact, in my mind I even had to agree with her–is it because of that warped personality of mine?

I felt inclined to ask her, who was "honest" by her own judgment and "erratic" by everyone else's, for her opinion regarding a certain question.

"Mirai-san, may I ask you something?"

"Mh? What is it?"

"What do you think about someone who doesn't grieve over their misfortune?"

"Sounds fishy to me," she answered quick as a shot. "Misfortunes are called that because you they make you sad, right? If you don't get sad, then you can't call it a misfortune."

"I see," this time I actually put my agreement into words.

I darted a sidelong glance at Tsukimori.

Tired of waiting or just interested in the café's decoration, she was looking around the shop. Apparently, the white ceramic cat and black glass cat set was to her liking; she stood up and examined it up close.

Who in this café would have guessed that she was in fact a hapless girl who had lost her father only recently?

I reckoned nobody.

One could never observe a stirring of extreme emotions in her. She would always appear calm and mature.

I didn't know whether she purposely controlled her feelings or just simply wasn't the type of person to show them, but she didn't look sad ''at all'' to me.

Of course, it wasn't unthinkable that she just didn't want to unsettle the people around her and was thus desperately hiding her sadness. Or that might actually be the normal reaction of a girl after such a mishap. After all, the deceased wouldn't return, and mourning forever can't be called very healthy either.

But those are just pieces of theory. Is it really possible to deal with one's feelings in such a short time? Especially if it's sadness?

I recalled Mirai-san's words.

Indeed. It seemed fishy.

The dessert was able to satisfy Tsukimori's tastes.

"It's delicious," she praised while happily finishing up her coffee and apple pie without leaving anything over.

I headed to her table to clear up.

"Has everything been to your liking?" I asked, whereupon Tsukimori darted a discontented glance at me.

"Are you telling me to leave?"

"I see you are quick on the uptake."

"I really like this café."

She flashed a smile as if she would start to hum any moment.

"Aha. Pleased to hear that. But don't forget that there are lots of different cafés in the world. You ought to try them out as well."

"I really like this café," repeated Tsukimori with exactly the same smile and exactly the same words.

"I see sometimes you aren't quick on the uptake," I mostly repeated myself as well.

Suddenly Tsukimori stood up and walked further into the shop, apparently towards the kitchen. When I followed in wonder, she was giving the staff a natural greeting and smiling like a blooming flower.

"Pleased to meet you."

It was obvious at a glance that her rosy greeting got the staff flustered. Apparently all of them were quite excited about her. Well, except for Mirai-san who remained unimpressed.

"I am Youko Tsukimori, a classmate of Nonomiya-kun's," she introduced herself with polite manners.

"Ah, yes, Nonomiya-kun told us," answered the manager respectfully despite being way older than her.

"I have to say this is such an adorable little café."

"Thank you very much!"

The manager blushed slightly, moved by her radiant smile.

"I am so jealous of everyone—"

The staff looked at her in surprise. A girl, who seemed to have anything one could be jealous of, was jealous of them.

"—Because you have the privilege to work at such a wonderful café."

Youko Tsukimori looked plainly stunning, set aflame in the twilight.  Although that was probably due to the backlight from the sunset. In that very moment, everyone was fascinated by her exceptional aura.

"I can't even imagine what bliss it would be to work at such a wonderful place."

Being the person in this room that had the most resistance against her, I smiled wryly at her star-like attitude. I also found that she had gone over the top with that exorbitant exaggeration.

However, the manager's next words erased the smile on my lips.

"...um, Tsukimori-san, you said?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to work here?"

"Mister Kujirai—"

I couldn't keep silent. I wanted to keep him from committing a grave mistake. Faust, you are bargaining with Mephistopheles!

However, someone seized my shoulder and held me back. The smell of chocolate was in the air.

"Just watch," Mirai-san said with a mischievous smile. Here we had another devil.

"Err, actually, there is a vacant post at the moment. And since you are Nonomiya-kun's classmate, we don't have to worry about your background. So, if you'd like, we would gladly welcome you, Tsukimori-san."

The other staff members nodded their heads in agreement, too.

It was just like group hypnosis. They must have been mesmerized by the devil and lost their minds.

"I am really happy about your offer, but... can you really make do with me? To tell you the truth, I have never worked anywhere before," answered Tsukimori hesitatingly after wavering for a short while.

"No no, don't worry! Everyone has to begin somewhere. Besides, I'm positive that you, as someone with outstanding manners, are suited for this kind of business!"

Sure, her acceptance among the customers would be outstanding! They can only see her superficial side after all.

"I'll gladly accept your offer then if you have so much confidence in me," replied Tsukimori with a bright smile.

Everyone welcomed her warmly with a smile as well. I was the only one who made a sour face, while feeling awfully removed from that ring of blessings.

Because I knew better.

I knew that a bold and determined character lurked beneath her surface, which showed only a beautiful girl of excellent character who was thus loved by everyone.

To make things worse, bright Tsukimori was well aware of her own attractiveness. And just now I had learned that she also knew how to use it correctly.

"Why are men just so weak against pretty girls?" whispered Mirai-san into my ear after she had pulled me by the shoulder, the counter between us.

"A good question. After all, the guys in this café are all 'weak' against you as well," I answered casually.

"It feels just wrong when you're giving compliments. But it's no bad feeling. Let me pet your head as a reward."

Mirai-san's palm approached my head, but I refused gloomily. "I'm not in the mood. Please don't confuse me any further."

"No need to be reserved! If you want, I may even give you one piece of my chocolate?"

"Are you okay with it? Aren't you against the employment of Tsukimori?"

"You want me to object, don't you?"

"Well, only your objection would be able to put an end to this welcoming mood."

"Can't be bothered. There's no reason to object."

"Why?"

I was surprised that Mirai-san would allow such a farce.

"Because it's damn funny to see you protest so blatantly when you usually act so cold!!"

Mirai-san cackled.

"...you do realize how awful your personality is?"

"You're worse off than I am, right? If my intuition doesn't fail me, Tsukimori isn't the type of woman a helpless guy like you could handle."

"Doesn't bother me. I don't plan on making a move on her."

"''You'' may think so, but what about her?"

Mirai-san narrowed her eyes and peeked searchingly into my face from close up.

"No use punching me, for your information."

"Yeah yeah. Looking forward to the next few days."

Without caring about my strong rebuff, Mirai-san waved her hand and toddled back into the kitchen.

It felt like it was just a matter of time until she would get wind of our odd relationship—a woman's intuition?

I told myself that I had to make sure Tsukimori wouldn't say any unnecessary things to Mirai-san.

"I work here now."

The girl in question, Tsukimori, approached me merrily in spite of all the headaches she was causing me.

"It's still not too late. Won't you think it over again?"

My reply was cold, but my heart was colder.

"Thank you for worrying about me. But since the manager was so kind to offer me this position, I will try my best!"

She cutely clenched her fist, full of confidence.

"I'm not worrying. I am bothered."

"I am looking forward to working with you, colleague."

Tsukimori's smile hadn't cracked even once.

Mirai-san had mentioned that I was not someone who could handle her.

I found myself right in the course of experiencing just how spot-on she was.

The next morning in the classroom.

All of a sudden, Tsukimori came to my desk and said with a smile as warm as sunbeams shining through the leaves of a tree and a voice as soft as a gentle summer breeze to Usami:

"I have been employed at the café Nonomiya-kun works at."

Time stopped in the noisy classroom. At least, Usami did—like a clock whose battery had run dry.

"...eh? Youko-san? You work together with Nonomiya? Why? Eeh?"

Her bewilderment made her look like one of those automatons that jump out of striking clocks every hour.

It was like a déja-vu of yesterday.

"The shop manager asked me to help them out because there was a shortage of staff. I am a little anxious because, well, I have never worked anywhere before. But the manager assured me that I will be fine," explained Tsukimori unaffectedly.

"You should talk! ...You're the one who made him say that."

It was me, naturally, who spat out those words in a volume no one could perceive.

"Maybe I should join you..."

"Don't skip your club. You have to do your best and become a regular player." I was able to predict the direction this conversation would take, so I put a stop to it in advance.

"Why don't you stop by this weekend, Chizuru? I may not be able to keep you company since there's still a lot I have to learn, but there's still Nonomiya-kun. Right, Nonomiya-kun?"

I glared at her smiling face for the brink of a second. She tilted her head slightly, asking "Hm?" and retaining her unbreakable smile.

"Yeah, you're always welcome in our café, Usami."

I swore to myself to complain to Tsukimori afterward.

"Okay! I'll drop by! I'll definitely drop by!"

Usami rejoiced grandly, her eyes sparkling. Her straightforward reaction made a good deal of my gloomy mood just flow away.

But there was a serious problem. Judging from the looks of my classmates, it was obvious that they would raid the café this weekend. And this time it seemed quite difficult to stop them.

"Listen up, everyone! Nonomiya is giving us some explanations!!"

Kamogawa came clapping me on the shoulder with a disgustingly gentle smile. Behind him stood a group of guys with the same disgusting smile on their faces. It was the guys-alliance, and they demanded justice from the one who had stolen the march from them. 

It was sickening.

"I am so going to protest to Tsukimori," I swore determinedly.

<noinclude>
{{GekkouNavbar
| [[Gekkou:Volume 1 Confession|Confession]]
| [[Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate|Bitter Chocolate]]
}}
</noinclude>

Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate

2014-08-25T15:22:32Z

99.232.22.58: /* [Bitter Chocolate] */

==[Bitter Chocolate]==

I had to admit it: Youko Tsukimori was indeed a perfect girl.

It was naturally me who was assigned to mentor her, being in the same class and all. At first I was rather sour about that cumbersome task, but I soon learned that it's quite enjoyable to teach someone who's good at remembering things.

Only two weeks had passed since Tsukimori had started working at Victoria, but she was already able to do any work related to waiting the tables on her own, such as attending to the customers, taking their orders and operating the register.

In terms of handling the customers, she might have even surpassed anyone else in this café. Furthermore, thanks to the customers who would visit only to enjoy her in a waitress uniform, sales were on the rise, too.

The manager and the other employees were quite impressed with her abilities, while it was no surprise to me since I knew her from school.

What was a surprise, however, was that Tsukimori and Mirai-san were on very good terms. I would have been able to understand it if they had been like cat and dog, but in truth you could even say that they turned out to be a good match.

"I was convinced you wouldn't like her type of person," I addressed Mirai-san.

"It's the opposite. Women like Youko can't stand me."

Mirai-san flashed the kind of smile you would expect of the leader of some wicked organization that schemes to conquer the world.

"Why is that?"

"Conjurers don't like audience that sees through their tricks. And you see, the tricks of those women don't work on me." Indeed, Mirai-san's intuition was queerly sharp. "There's this gal in university who's quite popular with the guys because of such tricks. Well, once I was kinda pissed off by her attitude—okay, my mood had hit the rocks during that period in general—but anyway, I cut her down to size in front of all the others. And when I was finished with her, she wept and wept... such a pain."

"My condolences."

"Right? She always runs away right when she spots me ever since. As if ''I'' was the bad one!"

Mirai-san seemed pleased about having my assent, but my condolences naturally belonged to the poor young woman who had made Mirai-san her enemy.

"But Youko's nothing like that. She seems to be unfeigned, without any tricks or pretenses."

Mirai-san turned her gaze towards the tables where Tsukimori was serving the customers.

"I was keen to blow her cover, but no matter how fiercely I observe her, she shows no openings. Heh, at first I was excited about the arrival of a powerful opponent and was like, 'Don't think you can deceive me forever!', but—"

Mirai-san made a short pause to sneer.

"—Lately, I've come to think that this is how Youko really is."

I followed her gaze to Tsukimori.

Indeed, she was always dignified, so I couldn't even imagine her whining. Even with this cross-grained personality of mine, I considered that gleam of hers pure and not some trick.

She had even managed to tame the "beast". No wonder that the "humans" around her would be captivated by her.

"What I like most about her is definitely that she isn't scared of me," said Mirai-san, who then turned around to the kitchen and suddenly shouted: "SARUWATARI!"

"Y-Yes, ma'am!"

"Do your work properly!"

"I...I will! I will do it so properly!" cried Saruwatari-san, and moved even faster than before.

"See? Any other guy's like that, right?" 

"Are you a devil?"

"You moron! It may not look like it, but Saruwari actually has a crush on me, you know?" Mirai-san tapped my forehead with her index finger. "Though I just don't have a thing for such timid guys."

"You ''are'' a devil."

I was speechless, only rubbing my forehead.

"Anyway, the point is I like her. Even if it's just some faked mask. It's my loss!"

"Is it as simple as that?"

"It is. However vicious Youko may turn out to be, I won't be able to dislike her so easily anymore. It's the same as my fondness of chocolate, which I can't stop though everyone babbles that eating too much isn't good for my health."

The self-proclaimed chocolate addict Mirai-san sat down on an edge of the counter, took a block chocolate out of her pocket and threw it in the air just to catch it with her healthily red tongue.

"My, that is bad manners Mirai-san! Don't always try to snack on chocolate when the shop manager is not watching. He told me that certain story about you, you know? Once, you collapsed because you wouldn't eat anything but chocolate," scolded Tsukimori, who had come over to forward an order, with the attitude of a class officer towards a delinquent.

"Speak of the devil!" countered Mirai-san in a daunting tone that sounded like nothing but a perfect example of delinquency.

"You were talking about me? Not badly I hope, ''right''?"

"Why, of course not. We were praising you, Youko."

"Very well, I will take your word for it this time."

In contrast to what they said, they both seemed to enjoy talking to each other.

"You like me, don't you?" asked Mirai-san out of the blue.

"Yes, I do," replied Tsukimori in a split second with a giggle. "You also like me, right?"

"Without saying." Another immediate reply. They looked almost like old friends. "See? That's what I was getting at."

"I see."

There were still some points that didn't make much sense to me, but I understood roughly what she wanted to say.

"—You really resemble each other in a way, huh," murmured Tsukimori suddenly.

Mirai-san and I looked at each other.

"Such an uncharming guy and I?"

"I'm not ''that'' frank, you know?"

Our denials were in sync.

"You don't flatter anyone, you don't go with the flow. 'You have your way', so to speak. I am actually quite jealous of that character trait of yours."

I paused for a moment before answering her, "Mirai-san is holier-than-thou to the core, while I simply take to going at my own pace. Unlike her, I am able to adapt and gladly follow superiors if necessary."

"I am always honest and not scheming like you," objected Mirai-san sharply.

"You ought to realize that sometimes the truth can hurt others more than a lie."

"You really are a cheeky fellow without any charm, Nonomiya."

"I don't need that from an indelicate bully like you!"

I sneered, whereupon Mirai-san stood up with glaring eyes.

"All right, Nonomiya!! You just overstepped your bounds! Let's take this outside! I'll bend that warped nature of yours into shape with my fists!"

Tsukimori, who had been watching us, suddenly started to giggle.

"You are like siblings."

"—Nonomiya, my brother?"

She let go of my collar and evaluated me from tip to toe with her gaze.

"Sis," I tried teasing her. To me it sounded like nothing but a Yakuza's way of addressing his female superior.

".........what a nightmare."

Whether it was because Tsukimori had spoiled her appetite for argument or because she was disgusted with the way I had called her, Mirai-san disappeared into the kitchen, holding her head.

"She may not look like it, but Mirai-san likes you, Nonomiya-kun," whispered Tsukimori. "I think she was actually fairly pleased that you called her 'sister'. I am sure she only escaped because she was embarrassed."

I gazed at her.

"What's the matter? Why that wondering face?"

"Even though you have spent much less time with Mirai-san than me, you seem to understand her pretty well."

"I have an eye for people. I knew we would get along well at first glance," Tsukimori told me, seeming very pleased with the compliment I had given her.

"But your eye for men needs some serious polishing."

Apparently, her mood ''was'' good; all I got in return for my cynical remark was a sugar-sweet smile.

"I really don't think so? You will surely become my dear life partner."

She skillfully put a cup of coffee onto the tray and headed with light steps towards a table.

I didn't intend to go along with her plans, so it was safe to assume that she had no foundation; but upon seeing her self-confident smile, I couldn't help but think that her words would come true.

Still, I had no plans of trusting her off-handedly like Mirai-san.

She wouldn't have stopped doubting Tsukimori so easily either, if she were in my position.

Because I knew about the murder recipe.

After Tsukimori started working at Victoria, Usami also became a frequent sight at the shop.

With her being very communicative, it didn't take long until she was well-liked by both the staff and the manager, and by now she was a proper regular. Thanks to that I was permanently on tenterhooks, afraid that Mister Kujirai might offer her a position.

"Hey, Nonomiya, Nonomiya, listen!"

Since she usually came after her club activities, she mostly arrived just before evening when the number of customers started to drop. She would then happily tell us about "that day's events".

"I was selected as a regular player for the next match!"

"Congratulations. Let me treat you to a drink to mark the occasion."

"Yay!" she shouted out so vigorously she almost jumped to her feet. "Um, in that case... can I ask for one more thing?"

She suddenly got flustered and peeked up at me with embarrassment. Her big, round eyes reminded me of a pygmy marmoset.

"If it's within my power."

"Can I take a photo of you?"

"Why? We see each other almost everyday. There's no point in specially taking a photo, is there?"

"Yes, there is! I want you in your garçon outfit!"

"I see." I pretended to ponder about it. "No."

"Why not! There should be no prob with it! It won't hurt!"

It was so amusing when she became angry and acted like a willful child.

"I'm not very fond of photographs and the like."

That was no lie. I meant it.

"But your garçon look has rarity value; it would be a shame, I tell you! Come on, just one!" she passionately tried to persuade me.

"Well, since you've finally become a regular player and want it so much—"

"Eh? You'll let me?"

Usami's eyes sparkled with expectations.

"—I'll refuse."

Which I gladly belied.

"EEH?! Why?!"

"Because I don't want to have my soul sucked out."

"That's a silly superstition!"

Teasing Usami was a life task of sorts for me. Because watching her reactions was like getting the crisp and shrill sound of a bell, I couldn't stop being mean to her.

"Geez! You miser!"

"Say what you want but my answer remains 'no'."

"I'll just take one secretly then..."

"As you just told the person in question, it's not going to be secretly at all."

"Take that!"

Usami adopted drastic measures: she pointed her mobile phone at me and tried to shoot. I instantaneously turned from her.

"Aaah! W-Why did you turn around?!"

"Taking photographs is prohibited in this establishment. If you do not abide by this rule, I will have to request that you leave," I explained in an official-sounding tone, whereupon Usami puffed up her cheeks and stowed her phone away into her bag, but not without hissing: "Miser!"

A laugh accidentally escaped my lips.

"Cheer up, Usami. I can't consent to the photograph, but I'll treat you to dessert instead."

Her sour look moved me and made me want to spoil her. That's another form of carrot and stick, I guess.

"...an ice chocolate and a mango tart."

"Certainly," I answered her with the best smile I could produce and headed towards the kitchen to forward the order.

I couldn't keep my expression from loosening, which was only reasonable. Usami's straightforward reactions had a sort of stress-alleviating effect on me—probably because I had to deal with peculiar, to say the least, persons during my usual day.

"You're like a child that's playing with its favorite toy." With her chin propped up on her hand, Mirai-san grinned lopsidedly.

"Why, I would never think of her as a toy!" I answered while arranging the bills after I had communicated the order to Saruwatari-san.

Naturally, Mirai-san with her sharp wits had already noticed that I was fond of Usami. I didn't mean to hide it anyway.

"But I would love to have a pet like her at home."

In my mind I pictured a pygmy marmoset trying its best to munch on a mango that was as large as itself.

"No big difference."

"At any rate, it's true that I'm quite fond of her."

"How rare for you to admit something that easily." Mirai-san stared at me, surprised.

"It all depends on who it is about! Her straightforwardness causes me to be honest as well."

"Heh, great! Make her your girlfriend and have her fix that twisted personality of yours!"

Mirai-san laughed out loud, bending forward.

"That twisted personality you mention all the time would surely be twisted even more if ''you'' were my girlfriend," I thought without actually saying it.

"—That sounds quite realistic to me." Before I knew it, Tsukimori was standing next to me. "As far as I see, Chizuru is interested in you, too, Nonomiya-kun," said Tsukimori with that mature smile she was so good at.

"Oh? So she's not averse, either? I didn't know Nonomiya was such a lady-killer."

Mirai-san gazed curiously at Tsukimori. In my gaze, however, was nothing but suspicion.

What was she scheming?

Unlike Mirai-san, who didn't know that Tsukimori had asked me to go out with her, I completely failed to understand why she would encourage a relationship with Usami.

"Why don't you just go for her?" Mirai-san didn't miss out on that delicious chance.

"It's not my place to decide on that. Or am I just ignorant and love involves only one person?"

"Hey, didn't Youko just say that your chances are good?"

My snappish words made Mirai-san frown.

"You're no better, either, Tsukimori. I don't appreciate that you're trying to spur us on without reason. Careless remarks like these are rude towards both Usami and me."

I realized that I was irritated. Not angered, but irritated. Not like fire, but like "smoldering embers".

"You are right, Nonomiya-kun. I wasn't supposed to say that. I am sorry."

Tsukimori readily admitted her mistake and bowed in apology.

"Er, yeah, sorry. I didn't expect you to be that serious about it," Mirai-san awkwardly scratched her head, following Tsukimori's example.

"...no, it's up to me to apologize. It's just that I'm not used to such talk."

I showed them some kind of self-deprecation, which was the best I could do to varnish over my irritation.

Unable to keep the conversation going, we shared a few seconds of silence.

Then Mirai-san lost interest and disappeared into the kitchen, seeking an outlet for her vexation: "Saruwatari!!"

Tsukimori, however, had turned away from me and was standing still—an indecisive attitude that didn't match the image I had of her.

On my part, I was still uncomfortable, sensing a bitter aftertaste on my tongue even now that the conversation was over.

It wasn't irritation that originated from the earnestness towards Usami that Mirai-san had mentioned.

Sure enough, a part of me disliked it when people rashly meddled in others' love affairs. However, such situations were common and nowhere near rare, and I would have been able to dodge or adapt respectively, hiding my feelings as I used to do so unhesitatingly until now.

Just now, however, I had disgraced myself by exposing my feelings, which was not like me at all. It was probably the first time I had ever had such an experience.

Why was I so irritated? It was a nasty feeling; while I knew that it was there, I didn't know what the cause was.

At that moment, I heard a murmur.

"...I am sorry," whispered Tsukimori with a tiny, sore voice that was easily drowned out by the ado in the shop. I could not see her face as her back was still facing me, but I somehow sensed that her words weren't an "apology" but rather "remorse".

I never would have thought that Tsukimori regretted her words that much. Concurrently to surprise, I also experienced a strong feeling of pacification.

I had found the cause for my irritation. I still did not clearly know why, but it seemed like the cause was Tsukimori.

Why was I irritated by her?

Another question arose.

I chose to do a reset of my feelings and bring Usami her order because I thought I would only waste time if I got lost in a labyrinth of thoughts.

However, there was one discovery I had made: a new kind of emotion towards Tsukimori was about to be born.

I didn't know the name of that emotion yet, though.

<noinclude>
{{GekkouNavbar
| [[Gekkou:Volume 1 In The Café|In The Café]]
| [[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]
}}
</noinclude>

The Circumstances Leading to Waltraute's Marriage:Volume1 Chapter 4

2014-08-02T18:22:15Z

99.232.22.58: /* Part 6 */

==A.E. 01: This is No Time to be Getting Excited about Swimsuits==

===Part 1===

As usual, Waltraute was stationed on the third runway of Bifröst.

The goddess of marriage Frigg, the goddess of beauty Freyja, and the other Valkyries were also sitting there, so the third runway had undergone a job change from transportation facility to party hall. Heimdallr the watchman had completely given up. He had switched his thought process over to concentrating all of the disasters to the third runway so that the other runways could run smoothly.

On this day, a new goddess arrived at the third runway.

It was the fertility goddess Iðunn who grew the apples of immortality.

Iðunn had a bandanna wrapped around her head and wore a waitress-like outfit made from simple country-style clothes. (And she had the extremely huge breasts one would expect of a fertility goddess.) She held a large basket filled with apples and she spoke up hesitantly.

“Um, it is just about apple season.”

“Oh, is it that time already?”

Waltraute took an apple of immortality out of the basket held out towards her. The red fruit almost looked transparent as if it was a ruby or something similar, but when its skin was peeled, it contained juicy white fruit. The fruits of the gods were quite strange.

It was not due to an intrinsic physical characteristic that the gods did not age; it was due to these apples.

The goddess Iðunn was the only one able to grow them, so the heavenly world of Asgard had turned into an extremely aged society filled with old men and women when the evil god Loki had kidnapped her.

As long as they ate the apples in accordance to a set cycle, the gods would never age.

However, the concept of age did not disappear entirely.

“Um, Lady Frigg? Why have you been frozen in place staring at the apples?”

“Uuh!? N-no reason at all. Ho ho ho. It is just that I am a bit full right now.”

The goddess of marriage Frigg let out a dry laugh, but the goddess of beauty Freyja grinned and spoke up.

“Lady Frigg, how many have you eaten this year in total? How many apples?”

“Kh!!”

“Well, it is similar to the number of candles on a birthday cake. Even if nothing changes visual, it still bothers you.”

“My actual age is not that much different from yours!! The only a difference is at what stage we maintain our apparent age!!”

(What are they doing?)

Waltraute watched the two argue with a shocked look.

If the number of apples eaten could change their age, it would be easy to manipulate the order of the nine Valkyries.

Waltraute bit into an apple of immortality without bothering to peel it.

Iðunn’s cultivation ability was apparent in how Waltraute felt like she was eating sherbet. The fruit had enough moisture to carry one around in lieu of a water bottle and the slight sourness at the center of the sweetness was wonderful. To put it simply, the apple was delicious.

(I need to avoid entering into a cultivation-related competition with her.)

As Waltraute was focused on competitions as usual, Iðunn spoke to her.

“Um…”

“What?”

“What about that boy?”

“?”

“The apples. These apples. The apples of immortality.” The fertility goddess Iðunn shook the basket she held in both hands. “The general rule is to not bring them to Midgard, but that boy is your husband so he could be considered to be part of Asgard. So should I bring him an apple of immortality?”

“Hm. So that is what you meant.”

“The human lifespan is supposed to be only 100 years. He will be a wrinkled old man in no time at all. If you are going to give him an apple of immortality, I think you should do so as soon as possible.”

“Hmm. But…” Waltraute munched on her apple. “Is it really okay to give immortality to a soul from Midgard? If the boy is made immortal, won’t he be treated as an outsider by human society?”

“That is a difficult theme.”

“And if he is given an apple of immortality at this stage, his physical body will stop where it is. It is just… I am not sure I should decide for him to take away the possibility of growth.”

Freyja had gotten tired of making fun of Frigg, so she cut in.

“Ha hahhn!! So you want to let that boy grow into the ideal young man and then feed him apples of immortality forever to lock him in place there!? A surprisingly good idea coming from you!!”

“Keep your delusions to yourself, you fool!!”

“But younger is always better. Giving him an apple of immortality once he is an old man does no one any good. They say what’s inside is what counts, but when it’s the same person inside either way, why would you choose the old one?”

Each of those words just so happened to stab into Frigg, but since it was Freyja, that was likely intentional.

Iðunn seemed to agree with that.

“Um, humans and gods see time differently, so you should probably make up your mind quickly. It is possible his hair will have gone gray before you know it.”

While munching on her apple of immortality, Waltraute said, “Argh, you fools!! This is not something to be decided only by the gods! What matters most is what that boy thinks about it!!”

“Yeah, but if you put an apple of immortality in front of a mortal human and ask him what he will do, the internal conflict might break his mind.”

“Um, I would be more afraid of other people seeing it and beginning to kill each other for it.”

Waltraute had eaten her apple down to the core, so she reached for a second from Iðunn’s basket.

“But that boy’s life belongs to him! Manipulating it for our own benefit sounds like something that one-eyed bearded old man would do! I do not like it!!”

Munch munch.

“Enough of that. It comes down to a single issue: young and lively or old and wrinkly!? Which will it be? Young and lively? Old and wrinkly!?”

“Um, come to think of it, what is the ideal level in your eyes, Lady Waltraute? A little boy, an underclassman, a classmate, an upperclassman, or a gentleman?”

“Wh-what are you even talking about, you fools!? I am trying to talk about the weight of a human’s life!!”

Munch munch munch munch!

“It’s little boys. She’s definitely into little boys.”

“Yes, she does have the look about her.”

“Do not decide that on your own!! And what do you mean by ‘the look’!?”

Munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch!!

“No, wait, Waltraute.”

“Um, the number of apples of immortality you eat is a complex calculation.”

“Do not decide what people’s tastes are based on how they look. In fact, physical appearance means nothing to me. I never said he needed to look like that. It is just that the boy who won my hand in marriage in a competition happened to be that age!!”

Munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch munch!!

“Waltraute!! Wait a second! Stop, stop!!

“Wahh! If you eat that many…!”

“Munch munch!! Munch munch chomp chomp munch munch!! …Hm? Huh!? Wait. How many apples of immortality have I eaten!?”

The change came quickly.

As stated before, Asgard had turned into an extremely aged society filled with old men and women when the evil god Loki had kidnapped the fertility goddess Iðunn. So how had they returned to their youthful appearances afterwards?

The answer was simple: They had eaten a ton of the apples of immortality.

And so…

“W-w-waaaahhhhhhhhhh!?”

[[Image:Waltraute_v01_205.jpg|thumb]]

Waltraute shouted out as her body was wrapped in white light.

The flash of light continued for a short period.

Finally, the light disappeared. And what it left behind was…

Waltraute with the appearance of a 10 year old.

That is what became of that invincible older sister type.

Freyja twisted her face into a grimace and clicked her tongue.

“Damn you!! Did you feel you needed more going for you to overcome my popularity!?”

“I did not do this because I wanted to, you fool!! And what exactly happened? My body has shrunk and my armor is slipping off. Don’t tell this is permanent!”

As Waltraute panicked, Frigg began grabbing as many apples as she could with a determined look on her face.

But then Iðunn replied, “Um, your most stable physical age does not change. Most of the time, it is your age upon first eating the apples. At any rate, any forced change to your apparent age should only be temporary.”

Frigg had been frantically trying to gather apples, but she now stiffened with despair. However, no one was looking in her direction.

Waltraute patted at her small body.

“I-I see. So I will return to normal after some time passes. …Good.”

“Oh, I thought it was a desperate attempt to boost sales,” commented Freyja.

“You have been doing nothing but mocking me. Do I need to teach you a lesson with this Spear of Destroying Lightning?”

“Fwa ha ha ha!! Waltraute’s small body – ha ha – won’t be able to produce enough power to do anythi-…ngyaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!?”

Freyja just barely managed to void the giant beam produced. It seemed she had a fair amount of combat skill herself.

“Oh, c’mon. If you’re gonna burn my skin, keep it to candles!! When you go beyond a brand, there is nothing erotic about it!!”

Meanwhile, the small Waltraute said, “Huh? Why did that fly out just now?”

“Um, your body may have shrunk, but your soul is the same. You do not have as great an ability to control the output of the energy, so explosions may be more likely to occur.”

“I see. And the initial velocity may have been even higher than usual.”

“It’s more powerful and she can’t control it? She’s basically unexploded ordnance now…”

“I will return to normal given some time, so there is no problem. …As long as a certain someone does not anger me during that time.”

After the small Waltraute gave that warning, the two crows Huginn and Muninn arrived.

“Huh? We have a message for Lady Waltraute.”

“Wait! Did she finally make the shift over to a more niche character type!?”

One of the ravens made that comment as if he(?) was not afraid of the gods, but the other raven made another comment before Waltraute could reply.

“We found another letter on the weather vane of the boy’s house.”

“I see.”

As Waltraute lived in the heavenly world of Asgard and the boy lived in the human world of Midgard, they could not contact each other easily. And so they used letters to keep in touch.

The raven must have used its beak to untie the letter from the weather vane and then retie it to its leg. The small Waltraute took the letter that had been tied to Muninn’s leg.

It said the following in messy handwriting:

“Let’s play!”

“…!! Honestly, that boy never learns. How many times do I need to tell him I will only accept these ridiculous requests if he defeats me in a competition!?”

“You say that, but you’re already cheerfully climbing aboard your white horse.”

“Because I must lecture him! And if he defeats me in a competition, I must consider it!!”

“Um,” cut in the apple fertility goddess Iðunn. “Come to think of it, I occasionally hear about you going to play or on a date, but have you actually had a honeymoon yet, Lady Waltraute?”

“We do not need anything so formal. …Also, from a mythological and cultural standpoint, I do not think Midgard has the concept of a honeymoo-…”

Before the small Waltraute could finish, life returned to the depressed goddess of marriage Frigg.

“This cannot stand, Waltraute!!”

“Ee!?”

“A peaceful household must be built atop a proper foundation!! You cannot grow lazy just because you have gotten married. Marriage is not the goal; it is a new starting line!!”

Frigg’s bloodshot eyes made it clear she was dissatisfied with her own marriage. She spoke with such intensity that even the small Waltraute was pushed back.

“B-but… I have travelled between the nine worlds as a Valkyrie and the boy has already visited other worlds on multiple occasions. I cannot think of anywhere we could go that would be impressive enough for-…”

“You fool!!!!! It doesn’t matter where! Just go somewhere!!”

“I cannot accept such an unreasonable demand even from you, Lady Frigg! If you insist on it, then you must defeat me in a competition!!”

“A tongue twister competition then!! Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers!!”

“Peter Piper picked a pye…ow!!”

It was over almost immediately.

The small Waltraute held her bit tongue with tears in her eyes and Freyja spoke up with a bored look.

“It’s pretty hot today, so why don’t you go swimming? Come to think of it, there has been a severe lack of exposed skin for a love comedy.”

“Mhh,” groaned the small Waltraute, but she had lost the competition.

She used the power of the Bifröst runway to break her existence apart and descended to Midgard while drawing an unnatural aurora through the sky.

“But,” said the goddess of beauty Freyja lazily. “The first challenge will be whether he recognizes Waltraute in that tiny form.”

===Part 2===

And…

“Who are you!?”

The boy’s eyes opened wide when he saw the Valkyrie with a 10-year-old appearance riding the giant white horse.

The blonde-haired, blue-eyed Valkyrie shook her small hands around and said, “I am Waltraute of course!! How can you not know that, you fool!?”

“No way!! Waltraute is more beautiful, more gallant, cooler, cuter, smarter looking, and stronger looking!! She has silky hair, smooth skin, and sparkling eyes!!”

“I-is that so? I suppose I cannot feel bad when you are complimenting me that much.”

“Why are you blushing when I compliment her?”

The boy was suspicious, but then he realized something.

He recognized the round eyes of the white horse the small Waltraute was riding.

“That horsie is Waltraute’s…”

“Again: I ''am'' Waltraute!!”

“Hey, horsie. What is going on? Tell me what’s going on!?”

But even if it was from the heavenly world, a horse was still a horse.

It could not reply in human words even if it was asked.

“I-I’ll give you a carrot, so tell me!”

An explosive reform came over the white horse’s frontal lobe and it began writing on the ground with its front hoof.

But the boy frowned.

“…I can’t read it.”

The white horse’s large form shook in shock, but the issue was not the horse’s handwriting. There was simply too much difference between the imperfect runes of the human world and the perfect runes of the heavenly world. For that reason, the horse’s runes were actually more accurate to the world’s standards.

“Sorry, horsie, but no carrot for you.”

“Oohhhh!? Do not suddenly start a rodeo, you fool!!”

The white horse tried to express its sorrow with its entire body and started throwing around the small Waltraute. The Valkyrie desperately grabbed at the reins.

That was when a goddess arrived in Midgard.

It was the goddess of beauty Freyja.

Instead of a horse, she rode a boar that was obviously much too large. It was over 4 meters tall.

“I knew this would happen. C’mon, Freyja here will explain it all for you, so you had better be thankful.”

When he heard that voice, the boy turned around and his shoulders jumped in shock.

“Th-th-this is…”

“Hmm? Oh, is my aura enough that I do not even need to introduce myself? Heh heh heh. That’s right, that’s right. I am Freyja, the goddess of beauty! My beauty is enough to win over anyone regardless of age or sex. Frankly, it scares me sometimes. My very existence is so bright it demonstrates my divinity!!”

“It’s a piggy!! It’s so huge!!”

“You’re focused on that!? Just so you know, a soul in the human world only has a 0.003% chance of seeing such great beauty over their entire lifetime!!”

The boy ignored Freyja’s shrill voice (and the small Waltraute breathed a secret sigh of relief but refused to let anyone else know), raised his hands, and charged into the side of the giant boar. He sank into the thick fur.

“The piggy is so warm.”

Meanwhile, the giant boar was writhing around as if to say “S-st-stop that. I-I’ll shout for help… Aaahhh!!”, but the boy showed no sign of noticing.

“Oh, this piggy has udders. Is it a girl?”

With the sound of something soft being squeezed, the giant boar began having NTR-related convulsions as it seemed to say, “Eee!! Ahhhn!! N-no! I already have Lady Freyja as my master…but…but…It’s flowing ouuuuutttttttttt!!”

Meanwhile, Freyja had grown quite angry over being completely ignored.

“This isn’t going to get anywhere at this rate!! I am going to explain everything, so focus on Freyja here!!”

“Wait!! The piggy has started looking for truffles, so don’t get in the way!!”

“So you’ve given into your hunger!?” shouted Freyja.

In reality, the giant boar was thinking “Pant, pant. I-I need to get that boy focused on something other than me…uuh… But no. I can’t hide my pleasure in working up a sweat for him!” However, no one else noticed that.

“At any rate, look at Freyja here!!”

“Why do you keep yelling?”

It was never going to end at that rate.

Plus, her entire identity as the goddess of beauty was at risk if a boy was more interested in a wild boar than her.

But once the boy did finally turn his focus towards Freyja for the first time since she had arrived, he covered his face with his hands.

“Wahh! You’re too bright! I can’t see!”

“Oh? Is Freyja so sexy I have to be censored during terrestrial broadcast? Wait just a second.”

She lowered the level of her divinity as the goddess of beauty and adjusted the clothing that had fallen out of place in various locations. After the rating had been lowered far enough, she continued.

“Well, boy? Can you see me now?”

“Hm, you definitely are a goddess, but you’re just a normal goddess. Waltraute is way more beautiful.”

“What!? You idiot! This is only the level of beauty that it is possible for your eyes to grasp! …And why do I have to lose to that battle-obsessed idiot of all people!? Just you watch, dammit. I’ll go full power. This is the transcendent and bewitching beauty of Freyja who stands at the top of the nine worlds!!”

“Wah! It’s so bright I can’t see anything!”

“The human world is real pain in the ass!!”

Freyja started tearing at her hair. She had gotten completely sidetracked and had forgotten all about the small Waltraute. It seemed the situation was not going to get anywhere, but then someone arrived to save the plot.

It was Brynhildr, the eldest of the nine Valkyrie sisters.

Just like the fourth sister Waltraute, the armored lady rode a giant white horse.

With no visible expression, she said, “I cannot stand to watch this any longer. I have no obligation to help, but I will explain everything. All of you just calm down.”

===Part 3===

“The gods of Asgard must periodically consume apples of immortality.”

“I see, I see.”

“The number eaten is meticulously calculated out to stop any aging. Eating an erroneous amount can temporarily give one a younger appearance.”

“Ohh…”

“And Waltraute ate too many of those apples.”

“Ehh!? Is Waltraute okay? Did she get a stomachache!?”

It took only 5 minutes to finish the explanation.

The small Waltraute and Freyja (who had put in a bit too much effort earlier) were both hanging their heads in shame.

“…What was all that effort even for?”

“I’m the goddess of beauty. Of course I’m going to get mad when it comes to beauty…grumble grumble.”

As Brynhildr sat atop her white horse, her expressionless eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at the boy. A thought appeared to have passed through her mind.

“It seems no matter the age, there will be humans who seek after Valkyries.”

“?”

“Seeing you reminds me of when I met the human Siegfried.”

The small Waltraute and the goddess of beauty Freyja looked even more puzzled than the boy did.

“(Wasn’t Siegfried an exceedingly muscular macho man? He was the hero who sliced the evil dragon Fáfnir in two using a single sword and then ate its heart.)”

“(She’s a reminiscing widow. She’s probably beautifying her memories like crazy.)”

It seemed Brynhildr had not heard their comments.

The boy patted the white horse on the neck.

“Are you married, Mrs. Brynhildr? I am too.”

“…I am.” A small and somehow bitter smile appeared on the Valkyrie’s lips. “Or technically, I used to be.”

“Then you’re my senior in this marriage thing!”

“Hm?”

“When I grow up, I’m going to be a mead maker. I wonder if I can support Waltraute properly like that.”

“…You can,” replied Brynhildr with the smile gone but with the edge to her tone also gone. “At the very least, you will be able to make a Valkyrie happier than some idiot who constantly charges into danger on a quest to be a hero can.”

Brynhildr seemed to be saying something nice, but…

“(The way she put that, you would think Siegfried had a heroic death on some reckless adventure, but didn’t he die because she got mad and used Gunnar and Guttorm to stab him in the back with a spear?)”

“(More beautification. She’s just going to keep doing it, so ignore her. She was made to sleep with a man she did not love and Siegfried was made to forget her in preparation for that. Their marriage had a lot of problems.)”

Those soap opera-esque parts were of course omitted as they could not let the boy hear them.

===Part 4===

It had all become a bit muddled due to Waltraute’s transformation, but the theme of this chapter was their honeymoon.

“What’s a honeymoon?”

“See? I told you it is not a standard part of Midgard culture, you fools!!”

The small Waltraute lamented that the boy did not understand even after an explanation and Freyja sat cross-legged on her giant boar (which left various parts quite visible).

Sounding disinterested, the goddess said, “The human world is just set as being a ‘medieval European fantasy world’, so don’t worry about the details. Being technically correct was thrown out the window from the moment the metric system and the 60 minute hour were used.”

“Is it a type of trip? Do you have work to do, Waltraute?”

“No, no. It is not a trip to go sell something. ….Hey, Freyja. What do you do on a honeymoon anyway?”

“Well, you go far away and your festive spirits will make sure you cannot leave anytime soon. That means you will have to stay at an inn where you can kiss and kiss and kiss and then head to the bed where-…”

“I get the picture, you sow. I was a fool to ask you.”

The small Waltraute pressed a finger against her temple and asked Brynhildr instead.

With no change of expression, the eldest Valkyrie sister replied, “You kiss a lot.”

“Dammit, you are no help either!!”

“However, Siegfried was the type to not listen and go fast and hard. And he would just go to sleep as soon as he was satisfied. I recall being very angry with him.”

“Oh, I know what that’s like,” said Freyja. “Those hero types always think about nothing but winning competitions of stamina, so they will always act like children. If only they would understand that is simply being inefficient.”

Brynhildr and Freyja began energetically discussing the matter while giggling. The small Waltraute felt a headache coming on, but then Brynhildr turned toward her and spoke.

“I have no intention of saying anything about your relationship or the apparent distance between the two of you. But if I recall, the idea of swimming in the ocean was suggested back at Bifröst.”

“The ocean!?” shouted the boy hysterically.

However, this was not because his heart was filled with excited expectations for a grand leisure event.

“You’ll drown if you go into the ocean! If you need to cross it, you can just use a boat!”

“…See? It looks like swimming in the ocean is no good in the eyes of Midgard either. Swimming is probably an extremely specialized skill for them.”

The goddess of beauty Freyja could not let that go by without comment.

This had entered her territory.

“You idiot! If you say that, there will never be a swimsuit chapter!! This is a love comedy, remember? This world needs to prioritize love and comedy. If detailed historical accuracy would get in the way of the love comedy aspects, the laws of this world will ensure that historical accuracy is thrown out!!”

“Are swimsuits even a thing here? Even if Midgard has a vague ‘medieval European fantasy world’ setting, synthetic fibers are going a bit too far.”

“True,” said Brynhildr as she let out a slight groan. “If we are going to stick to the cultural standards of Midgard, bathing in a spring would be the most accurate. …And that means the proper style would be bathing completely nude outdoo-…”

“Okay, swimsuits it is! This is a love comedy after all!!”

===Part 5===

The blue ocean.

The white sand.

The bright sun.

All those things came together in a trip to the beach. But the most important aspect was the girls in swimsuits. No focus could be wasted on those background elements.

However…

“Why am I the only one without a swimsuit?” asked Waltraute.

“Because you got so small all of a sudden!! Or do you want to try wrapping a baggy bikini around your body!?”

“And Freyja, why are you and the other eight Valkyries all here and wearing swimsuits!?”

“That’s a good question. My guess would be because this is the swimsuit chapter.”

“Why are there nine other women along on our honeymoon!? Lady Frigg should have been more specific when she challenged me to that competition!!”

“Yes, yes. ‘I wanted that boy to only look at me. Kiss kiss.’ ”

The small Waltraute gritted her teeth, but the other eight Valkyries had already headed into the water. It seemed some level of order remained amid the chaos thanks to the fact that they were not all trying to steal the boy for themselves.

“…I am the third sister Ortlinde. …I have nothing going for me. …In that once-in-a-lifetime battle I was treated as one of the ‘others’, my special skill was never explained, and I was taken out by tentacles. …Today, I think I will do my best by using a finger to fix my swimsuit when it rides up and pushing my breasts together with my arms.”

“At least you had your name mentioned. Does anyone even know who the sixth sister is? No one would know whether Helmwige referred to a boy or girl, or even if it was the name of a person or a weapon. I’m prepared to at least have my top fall off today.”

“I’m the eighth sister. The name’s Grimgerde. Why did I have to be the eighth sister rather than the youngest ninth sister? The eldest sister, the second sister, the third sister, and the youngest sister are the only ones that sound unique. And despite being the fourth sister, Waltraute is a special case. Frankly, it would be a miracle to get an illustration of all nine of us. There just wouldn’t be enough space.”

“…But I am the third sister and I have barely appeared. …Since I have some fair sized breasts, I think I will try going with a hand-bra. This chapter is specifically for the novel, so let’s try to get a pinup color illustration with all of us in it.”

“The novel will have to line up all of the covers for the magazine chapters and it also needs a character introduction for at least Waltraute and the boy, so the odds of that are almost zero. Once again: I’m the eighth sister.”

Even if some of them were falling into a spiral of negativity that threatened to turn the pure white beach into a small black hole, the area was mostly wrapped in the mood of an optimistic event.

With the nine Valkyrie sisters (minus the fourth sister) and the goddess of beauty Freyja all wearing swimsuits, any artist or minstrel who happened to see it would go insane from the explosion of inspiration the incredibly sweet scene would give him.

And as for the “winning team” whose names had been given, who had been given decent appearances, and whose special skills had been explained…

“Mh, ninth sister Rossweisse! What is that unnatural school swimsuit-shaped tan line!? You prepared for this ahead of time, didn’t you!?”

“No, no, second sister Gerhilde. This is due to the heavy armor I always wear.”

“What kind of armor leaves a tan line like that?”

“Brynhildr, help me out here. Let’s bury her. Let’s bury this seducing youngest sister.”

“Eh? W-well, burying someone in the sand is a standard event for beach trips, so I’ll gladly let you do that.”

“Let’s bury her upside down up to her ankles.”

“That won’t leave anything!! No one would like that except for people who are only attracted to the space between a girl’s big toe and second toe!!”

And then there was the group of airheaded sisters who did not care whether they were on the “winning team” or the “losing team”.

“Seventh sister Siegrune, you’re the one piece type?”

“I don’t understand how anyone could swim in the ocean with a two piece or a bikini, fifth sister Schwertleite. You mustn’t underestimate the currents or the resistance of the water.”

“Actually, you haven’t been approaching the waves at all, seventh sister Siegrune.”

“Laying out on the beach is much more efficient way of showing off your body, fifth sister Schwertleite. It isn’t that I am afraid of water and can’t swim.”

“Oh, Freyja here has some advice regarding that! Not being able to swim is actually a plus in a swimsuit chapter! You can cling to the guy’s chest as he teaches you to swim! He’ll be yours in no time!!”

“I-I already said it wasn’t that I can’t swim, you whore! And what is with that unexplainably erotic swimsuit?”

“Unfortunately, no one can see it due to the terrestrial broadcast censorship.”

Meanwhile…

The fourth sister Waltraute was all alone and unable to join the winning team, the losing team, or the neither team. She was sitting at a distant point of the beach with her arms around her knees.

“Not only can I not take part, but normally I would be the one in the limelight in this situation. Shouldn’t the emergency situation of me shrinking down like this take up the entire story!?”

No matter what happened, the girl without a swimsuit had no way of taking part in the swimsuit chapter.

But even if the (incredibly irresponsible) gods had abandoned her, someone still reached out a saving hand to her.

It was the boy.

“Waltraute.”

“Mh!? Do not call out to me so casually, you fool. Only call my name in an emergenc…vah vah wahh!!”

As soon as the small Waltraute turned around, countless Spears of Destroying Lightning fired from her back. Her vision had unexpectedly been filled with the boy’s slender swimsuit-wearing form.

As he was wearing a guy’s swimsuit, he was half naked.

Tilting his head, he asked, “What is it, Waltraute?”

“Do not worry about it. And I am banning all competition involving vague artistic aspects such as a swimsuit competition.”

“?”

The boy still did not seem to know what she was trying to say, so he changed the subject.

“Let’s play.”

“I told you not to call out to me so casually. If you insist on bringing such requests to me, you must first defeat me in a competition.”

“Then let’s have a kitty dance competition!!”

“Bfh!?”

“Nyahn, nyahn. Nyahn, nyan, nyan, nyahn.”

“Wait!! Are you asking me to do that too!? And what exactly decides this competition!? I just said no more artistic competitions!!”

However, the boy’s dance had already reached its climax. Waltraute had no idea what the basis of the competition was, but she sensed she would be left behind if she did nothing. And so she (in her 10 year old form) started imitating him by lightly clenched her fists and waving her wrists around.

“N-n-nyahn nyahn…”

And then the other eight Valkyrie sisters and Freyja all turned their attention to Waltraute.

“Nooooo!! I don’t care if I lose now. I don’t care at allllllllllllllllllllll!!”

Unable to bear it, Waltraute curled up, let out a cry like a bearded military commander, and started beating on the rocky coast so hard that cracks ran through it.

But due to Waltraute’s small appearance…

“(Actually, isn’t this the first time they can actually have an evenly matched competition?)” commented the eldest sister Brynhildr.

“(How much has space and time been warped for all the focus of the swimsuit chapter to be on the one character not wearing a swimsuit?)” commented the second sister Gerhilde.

“(Nya ha ha ha ha!! The fact that she looks perfectly suited for that kitty dance is a gag in and of itself!! This isn’t moe; it’s a gag. This is too much to even qualify as gap moe!!)” commented the goddess of beauty Freyja.

But the boy’s five senses were not sharp enough to pick up on those whispered voices on the other end of the beach. He was focused solely on what the small Waltraute was doing and saying.

“You just said you didn’t care if you lose, right!? Yay! I won the kitty dance!!”

“…Heh heh heh. Just do as you wish,” muttered the small Waltraute with the expression of someone whose core had been broken.

With a full-faced smile, the boy said, “Then…then let’s go play on the beach over there! There are a ton of weird animals. Mrs. Brynhildr was telling me about hermit crabs!!”

As he spoke, the boy grabbed Waltraute’s hand.

[[Image:Waltraute_v01_227.jpg|thumb]]

“Eh heh heh. Today I get to be the big brother.”

“Mh.”

Waltraute’s outer appearance may have changed, but she still had her full power as a Valkyrie. She did not in any way need to be protected by a soul from the human world. However…

“…”

The small Waltraute averted her gaze but still headed for the beach as the boy pulled on her hand.

The boy’s hand seemed somehow stronger and warmer than usual.

===Part 6===

They poked at hermit crabs, dug tunnels through mountains of sand, drew on the beach with driftwood branches, tasted seawater which turned their eyes to Xs, and returned a jellyfish to the ocean.

“(Hm, I can only see this as perfectly wholesome.)”

“(I would usually be making jokes about all of it, but it all looks perfectly normal with her appearance.)”

Those were the opinions of the eldest Valkyrie sister Brynhildr and the goddess of beauty Freyja, but the small Waltraute and the boy did not notice.

“Waltraute.”

“Hm?”

The small Waltraute had been adding a seventh entrance to the tunnels through a mountain of sand and constructing three distinct layers within. She looked up with her hands still inside the sand.

“Um, I found this.”

“What? Is it another piece of driftwood?”

The small Waltraute carefully pulled her hands out of the tunnel and finally turned around toward the boy.

And then she was left speechless.

The boy was dragging along a sword that measured over 150 centimeters.

It had to have been quite heavy, but the slender boy was somehow able to carry it around.

“What is that over-the-top weapon!?’

“I found it washed up on the beach.”

“Wait. That sword looks somehow familiar…”

The small Waltraute narrowed her eyes as she stared at the large sword.

And then she remembered.

“Nothung…? That is the sword the human Siegfried used in his fight against the dragon!!”

“Nyah? Who is Siegfried?”

“The human Siegfried was the former husband of my eldest sister Brynhildr. Technically, Brynhildr is still completely devoted to him. A lot happened.”

“Oh. Then I should give this to her so she can give it to him.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Siegfried is gone…and the owner of that sword would be the most famous human in Midgard. Are you sure you wish to give away that honor?”

Nothung had been reforged after being broken, but it had originally belonged to Odin. It had been made in order to find the greatest soul in Midgard (and then kill that human to add them to the Einherjar war dead).

No matter under what circumstances he acquired it, that boy held the power to slice an evil dragon in two as long as he held that blade. However…

“Hm. But this belongs to Siegfried, so I can’t take it for myself,” declared the boy.

With a backwards glance to the small and dumbfounded Waltraute, the boy dragged Nothung along as he ran towards where Brynhildr lay face down sunbathing.

(Hm. I can respect that purity of heart.)

Waltraute was left with some admiration for the boy, but a problem showed itself soon after.

Brynhildr was a widow who was still truly in love with Siegfried (even if she had directly worked towards his death).

When the boy brought that memento of her husband, she was much more deeply moved than Waltraute had been.

Brynhildr rubbed the boys head.

“That is very unlike her. I suppose that is just how much lingering affection she has for the human Siegfried.”

Brynhildr embraced the boy.

“Wait, isn’t that going too far, Brynhildr? You are destroying the character you had built up.”

Brynhildr buried the boy’s head in her large breasts and began rolling around on the sand.

“Do not get carried away, you fool!! Are you trying to turn this swimsuit chapter into a Brynhildr chapter!?”

Waltraute could no longer hold back, so she unsteadily approached the sexy sunbathing zone with a Spear of Destroying Light barely contained in one hand.

And that is how the swimsuit chapter passed.

===Part 7===

The end came suddenly.

While the small Waltraute had not grasped the truth of the matter, she had sensed some sort of premonition.

For example, there was the arrival of the dragon slaying sword Nothung.

(That boy said it had washed up onto the beach, but would something so convenient actually happen? Come to think of it, what even happened to that great sword after Sigmund and then Siegfried owned it?)

And one other thing stood out to her.

(Even if several unlikely possibilities coincided and Nothung did wash up on the beach, would that boy really be able to pick it up? While the sword was created so that souls of the human world could wield it, it was supposed to search for the greatest souls. …Not even I view that boy so highly as to think he is made of the same stuff as Siegfried. Why was that boy able to pick it up?)

The small Waltraute let out a groan as she watched the boy (and Brynhildr who had grown very fond of him), but she could not come up with an answer. And the fact that she could not gradually filled her with more and more unease.

Something was happening.

Meanwhile, a stingingly tense atmosphere filled the area around a spring in one corner of Asgard.

A decidedly negative emotion that was not murderous or hostile encroached on the area.

It could best be described as a general awe-filled fear for something unseen and not present.

It often filled human hearts when they thought about the gods, but it was exceedingly rare for it to spill from the hearts of the gods themselves.

The evil god Loki and the goddesses of fate known as the Norns were standing before that spring that displayed destiny.

Or perhaps it should be said they were confronting each other from across the spring.

Norn was not a term that referred to a specific individual. It was a general term for the three goddesses that made various predictions. In other words, it was closer to being a type of race like dwarf or elf.

But in this age, the term Norn referred to this group of three.

The goddess of the past Urðr, the goddess of the present Verðandi, and the goddess of the future Skuld.

As usual, the trio of Norns was completely expressionless.

“Even the way the story was introduced was odd,” said Loki. “A large difference exists between Asgard and Midgard’s cultures. That can be seen from the difference in the level of perfection of the runes they each use. …But bringing out the ideas of things like synthetic fibers and school swimsuits was the biggest problem.”

Verðandi and Skuld must not have been interested because they completely ignored Loki.

Perhaps because the issue related to her period of time, Urðr alone turned toward Loki.

“How is that a problem?”

“It has twisted the laws of this universe.” Loki smoothly continued speaking. “That boy removed one of the causes of Ragnarök. Surtr put down his sword and ceased construction on Naglfar. …But Ragnarök has more than one cause. If one is destroyed, the beginning of Ragnarök will focus on one of the others. Oh, I suppose this involves more than just the past, though.”

“Understood. As this involves multiple time periods, I will reply as the goddess of the present as well.”

“Same here as the goddess of the future.”

They seemed quite reluctant, but the other two goddesses also turned toward Loki. Urðr had also been in a bad mood about it from the beginning.

“As the goddess of the present, I must ask: can you sum up what you are ‘presently’ talking about?”

“And I have a question as the goddess of the future: what conclusion do you see this leading to ‘in the future’?”

Their lines and their attitudes did not match at all.

The Norns were in a very lazy and negative mood while Loki grinned with delight.

“Not even Odin can change the occurrence and outcome of Ragnarök.”

“And?”

“Fate is set in stone so not even the gods can alter it. But what about right now? In this moment, the cause of Ragnarök is switching over to another cause. Don’t you think fate can be shaken in this moment?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

Past, present, and future all fell silent.

None of the time periods could decide how to respond.

“And so strange things are happening. For example, all nine Valkyrie sisters have changed into swimsuits, they are using terms from an unfamiliar culture, and a completely normal human boy has picked up the dragon slaying sword Nothung.” Loki continued on his own. “Right now…no, I suppose saying that would be inconsiderate to Verðandi. Right here, fate and destiny are no longer in effect. Questions we already know the answer to can be led to a different answer. Right here, we have a threat that makes Ragnarök look like nothing. Unlike a war with a decided conclusion, no one can see how this will end. Not even the goddesses of fate. Am I right?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“These nine worlds will soon be destroyed. The river of fate will collapse and flood everything. Not even I can imagine what will happen after that. Having everyone act on their own without being bound by fate sounds nice, but it may mean everyone will be eternally isolated and never able to make any connections with anyone else.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“I had thought the three goddesses that can watch over all that exists would know some tricks into how the worlds work. But if you are at a stalemate here, it seems I was wrong. And something you three find impossible would be impossible for the other more minor Norns as well. Do you have any ideas as to who else might be able to do this?”

“Well,” it was the goddess of the past Urðr who replied. “This naturally occurring distortion in fate should have spread its effects thinly across all nine worlds. If you wish to cause an intentional change, you would need to interfere with all nine worlds rather than focusing on a single point.”

“…One would need quite the long reach to manage that.”

“I can think of one possibility,” said the goddess of the present Verðandi in regards to the presently developing situation. “The destiny that controls everything in the nine worlds cannot be interfered with or controlled even by we three sisters that watch over it all. I believe there is only one person who could do this.”

“Who would be able to do something even Odin cannot?”

“The nine worlds,” replied Verðandi. “The worlds themselves can grasp and even interfere with the entirety of the destiny spread thinly across them all.”

“…I have never heard anyone say the worlds have a will of their own.”

“In the present, no.”

“Nor in the future.”

“But in the past, they did.”

Loki frowned when he heard the words of Urðr.

“…So that’s it.”

He sighed.

He had been led to quite possibly the worst answer.

“What are the nine worlds made from? I’m sure the goddess of the past can gladly answer that one.”

“The great giant Ymir. Odin and the others killed the giant, broke apart his flesh and bones, and created the various worlds and living creatures out of them. That is how Odin was able to name himself the head god, name the Æsir the gods, and to name Surtr and his kind evil giants.”

“So the distortion of fate has returned Ymir’s will and he is planning to resurrect himself from the dead. Or perhaps the distortion in fate came about specifically because Ymir wished to be resurrected. But that distinction is unimportant,” said the evil god Loki. “To resurrect, Ymir requires all the parts of his body.” He finally reached his conclusion. “But his body has already been distributed to the nine worlds and the beings that live in them. If those parts are returned to the original giant they belonged to, the nine worlds and all life within them will be utterly annihilated.”

===Part 8===

The great giant Ymir’s resurrection had begun.

The sea grew dyed with the red of blood, the rocks on the shore became white teeth and bones, and the distant mountains turned to the color of flesh. It became clear what those objects they always tread on had originally been.

And the changes did not stop at the terrain.

The trees, the grass, the animals, the humans, the dragons, the fairies, and the giants were all affected.

Everything born within the nine worlds held this inescapable destiny. All objects and living beings created or born within the nine worlds were headed for their demise. It was the same for Muspelheim and Niflheim which had been made from the matter of the worlds after the Æsir in the process of destruction and revival.

“Wal…traute…” groaned the boy.

While still shrunk down, Waltraute had collapsed to the skin-colored beach. The same thing had happened to all the other sisters.

A few exceptions existed for this problem related to Ymir.

For example, the Æsir.

They had killed Ymir to create the nine worlds, so they had existed before Ymir died. They had been born somewhere unrelated to Ymir and had brought about their descendants from men and women that were unrelated to Ymir. As such, they would not be affected even if Ymir did resurrect.

However…

The Valkyries were existences whose forms had been changed for both gods and men. Humans had been involved in the process of their creation and those humans had been created from Ymir, so they were related to Ymir.

“I’m going to be having trouble soon, too,” groaned the goddess of beauty Freyja.

She must have grasped the general situation from the changes occurring to herself and her surroundings.

She was a member of the Æsir, but she had originally been of the Vanir. In other words, she was a giant. She had the divinity of the Æsir so the damage was being reduced, but she could not completely avoid taking damage since Ymir was involved in the process of her creation. At the current rate, she would become a part of Ymir’s body just like every other life form.

“Honestly, we must have let our guard down because Ragnarök was temporarily avoided. It may have also been bad that the Norns did not react. Who would have thought Ymir would be coming back? But it is true that the instant that fate is switching rails is an opportunity for those who have been cornered by fate.”

“What happened to Waltraute?”

The one suffering the most was likely that human boy.

He was directly receiving the effects of being created from Ymir and he had no divinity to defend against it with.

The damage was great enough that even an indirect blow was enough to knock out the average Valkyrie. The boy was receiving that damage directly, yet these were the first words from his mouth.

“What happened to Waltraute and the others?”

“Explaining the reasons behind this destruction would just bore you, boy. At any rate, there is nothing you can do for us even if you knew the reasons…”

If the pure Æsir that had no relation to Ymir gathered and worked to solve the problem, they might be able to manage. But it would be difficult even for them. Even if the Æsir were safe, their heavenly world of Asgard and the world tree Yggdrasil that supported it were beginning to collapse. When it was unclear if they could even protect the ground they stood on, they would not have time to worry about the other worlds.

“Boy, if you have any reverence for me as a goddess, then bury me after I collapse. As the goddess of beauty, I cannot allow anyone to see my body turning into something else. Ha ha. I know it isn’t right for a god to ask this of a human, but please. Give me a proper burial.”

“…”

The flesh and blood pulsated with life.

Something several dozen meters tall welled up from the ground that had changed form.

It was the great giant Ymir.

But this was not a perfect body. The body was dyed a dark red. It was covered in fresh blood and it did not appear to be covered by skin. It was just the core of his body. Once everything had been gathered from the nine worlds, his giant form that could pierce the heavens would be complete.

But thinking about it differently…

This was the perfect opportunity.

“…No, boy,” said Freyja as she kneeled down on the beach. “Since Waltraute can’t speak, I will stop you for her. You cannot do this. Even if it is incomplete, that is not something a soul born in the human world can handle.”

“No,” replied the boy decisively

He picked up the large sword that had fallen to the beach.

It was the sword he had given to Brynhildr.

It was the weapon prepared by Odin and then remade by human hands.

Yes.

It was the dragon slaying sword Nothung that ''was prepared by the leader of the pure Æsir and held the power of the pure gods!!

“No matter what happens, I cannot let Waltraute die.”

The boy tightened his grip on the sword’s hilt.

At 150 cm, the sword was longer than the boy was tall and he held it up of his own free will.

“I…”

He made up his mind.

“I…!!”

He prepared himself to wield the single power in that place that could kill the great giant Ymir.

He prepared himself to turn that power against a living being, regardless of what form that being took.

He prepared himself to protect the person he found most important even if it meant getting blood on his own hands.

“I will protect Waltraute no matter what it takes!!”

It was true that this was yet another form of justice. Many heroes had sought that justice, resolved themselves, and become members of the Einherjar war dead.

But this was not the path for that boy.

This was the boy who had avoided Ragnarök by proving in his conversation with Surtr that he held the determination to set down his weapon. His actions here would deny everything he had done back then.

Freyja tried to shake her head, but she no longer had the strength left.

The boy was going to take action.

The distortion to fate was manipulating him into this new distorted fate of his own. He would choose the option he never would have chosen before – that he must never choose – and destroy everything he had built up.

The giant mass of dark red flesh that was Ymir seemed to be laughing. The dragon slaying sword Nothung was indeed a threat, but the fact that this human who should never have wielded it was wielding it proved how distorted fate had become. If things continued as is, Ymir would regain his original form.

But then…

Just before the boy took that first step off the path of his proper fate…

“Wait. That isn’t your role.”

[[Image:Waltraute_v01_247.jpg|thumb]]

A deep male voice reverberated throughout that landscape of distorted fate.

A large and thick arm reached alongside the boy and towards Nothung.

It picked up the large sword almost too easily.

It was as if the sword belonged in his grasp.

It was as if fate was being restored.

It was as if the sword was returning to its rightful owner.

The great mass of Ymir writhed as if to ask, “Why?”

“Do you want an explanation?” muttered the large man holding Nothung. He was dyed red with the blood of a dragon rather than with his own blood like Ymir was. “You’re resurrecting there, so is it really that odd for someone else who’s dead to resurrect? This only works here where fate has been distorted. Isn’t that right, you mass of materials for the worlds?”

Freyja muttered something in a scratchy voice.

It was the name of a hero.

It was the name of Nothung’s owner.

“…Siegfried?”

===Part 9===

At that time, fate was most definitely distorted.

The human Siegfried held the over 150 cm sword Nothung in one hand and spoke.

“So now we have a muscular macho man and a grotesque giant. Makes you wonder what happened to the love comedy.”

The giant red mass shook as if to ask, “Why?”

“You did nothing wrong. You were merely killed by Odin. You were merely turned into the materials for the worlds by that idiot who wanted to be known as the head god. Desiring to be resurrected is your right. That is why I didn’t want to leave this to that boy. The conclusion here and the guilt afterwards would be too much for him.”

The giant red mass shook as if to ask, “Why?”

“You and I were both killed thanks to a scheme of Odin’s. Odin didn’t want the military might of the heavenly world to be split by my monopolization of Brynhildr, so he tricked Brynhildr into hating me and indirectly stabbing me in the back. But I have no intention of having a pity party. Unfortunately for you, I don’t regret the past that much.”

The giant red mass shook as if to ask, “Why?”

“What good would hoping to be resurrected do? As I said, I have no regrets. At the very least, I don’t have enough of a reason to hope for resurrection as long as Brynhildr does not have her smile taken away. In the end, as long as she’s smiling, I don’t care what happens to my own life. …To be honest, I don’t find the fact that we were killed for Odin’s self interest to be the biggest tragedy. I say the biggest tragedy is that you never met someone you cared for this much. What do you say? You’re free to want to live, but let me ask: what would you do if you were alive?”

“Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!?”

“That settles it.”

Siegfried lightly swung the large sword.

That was all it took to sharply slice through the rage and killer intent of that red giant.

“I know my way around the afterlife. I can show you around on my way back.”

The dragon slaying sword Nothung fell in a straight line towards the great giant Ymir.

It was the sword of the challenger.

It was made to demonstrate overwhelming sharpness only when turned toward the ruler of the current location.

===Part 10===

Once the great giant Ymir’s core was sliced in two, the distortion of fate disappeared. The switchover from one cause of Ragnarök to another finished smoothly.

And this also affected Siegfried.

In the proper path of fate, his life had already been lost.

But that great man had no real attachment to the world of the living.

As if to announce that this was the proper way of things, the core of his being did not waver.

“Sorry, but I’ll be taking this,” said Siegfried to the boy while holding Nothung. “I want you to head down a path that does not involve wielding this. Doing so will help your Waltraute and my Brynhildr. Plus, it should enrage that one eyed bearded old man.”

“?”

“You do not need to understand. The fact that you do not know the value of this sword and that you cannot compare the values of the two options shows that fate is back to normal. Just as I travelled down my path, you travel down your path. That will be the quickest path to building up your greatest strength,” said Siegfried with a grin. “I used brute strength to face down gods in battle, but it seems the human will always be at a disadvantage no matter how hard he struggles. That’s how I ended up dead. But your method might allow you to truly rival the leader of the Æsir.”

“What do you mean?”

“Odin ranks things according to battles, so he sees no danger. He feels safe because he is the strongest. And that is why he cannot deal with anything when it comes to a love comedy. I guess you could call it the power of love. I’m not too fond of that sort of thing, but that bearded old man must hate it even more. Never fight your opponent under his own rules. If you want to protect something or someone, then force your opponent to fight under your rules.” He then glanced over at Brynhildr who had yet to come to where she lay collapsed on the beach in a swimsuit. “But please do not forget that heading down your path will affect the fates of more than just Waltraute and yourself. It only has to be when you have some extra time. Maybe do it during the times when you have no plans with Waltraute. But call out to ''her'' on occasion. It’s about time she finally starts speaking with a human that does not reside in her memories.”

And the switchover of fate was complete.

The long, long countdown to the final battle of Ragnarök was set anew.

“Ah!? Despite everything that happened, why is my tiny body the only thing that has not reverted to normal!?”

“That’s because you shrunk due to eating too many apples of immortality. It had nothing to do with all that complicated stuff.”

The small Waltraute lamented and Freyja replied in annoyance while wearing her usual light clothing.

The other eight Valkyrie sisters had already left the beach.

The entire trip to go swimming had been unnatural, so they had quickly returned to Asgard once the switchover of fate had ended.

Siegfried was also gone.

He was merely an addition to Brynhildr’s power as one of the war dead.

The boy grabbed at the small Waltraute’s armor and said, “Hey, hey.”

“What?”

“If I don’t get home soon, my dad will be mad.”

“But you are supposed to stay overnight for a honeymoon!”

“Stop it, stop it,” warned Freyja. “Commenting on that could tear back open the sealed wound to fate. Really, we should avoid making any meta comments for about 2 weeks.”

“Mh.”

That left nothing else for her to say. And even the small Waltraute did not want the atmosphere to grow any more serious.

She called in her white horse and mounted it. She pulled the boy up and placed him in front of her.

“I have no choice then. Freyja, I will be taking this boy home.”

“Okay. …But why did it have to turn into a battle story at the very, very end? That was a hell of a day off.”

Freyja needed to return to Asgard, so she used Bifröst to break her existence down to particle form in an unnecessarily sparkly way.

The small Waltraute and the boy used the white horse to travel along the surface.

As they did, the boy said, “Waltraute.”

“What?”

“Would you be sad if I died?”

“Nn,” groaned the small Waltraute because she was unsure why he had asked the question.

It was likely related to what had happened during the distortion of fate.

The boy had chosen to kill in order to protect the one most important to him and he had also seen Siegfried seal off his own possibility of resurrection in order to protect who he found most important.

That experience must have made him think.

The idea of death could not be handled lightly even by a Valkyrie who watched over the deaths of many humans and took the souls of the war dead to Asgard.

Those who treated death extremely lightly like a certain bearded old man were the biggest fools of all.

“Let me tell you something,” she replied.

“What?”

“Risking and losing your life can indeed save someone else’s life. And there is a certain beauty to it. It is true that many heroes have intentionally sought such a fate.”

“I see.”

“But.”

“?”

“No matter how many people are moved by such courage and even if a life is saved, the life saved will always be filled with sorrow. That is one answer and one must never falter if heading down that path.”

Meanwhile, they arrived at the boy’s house.

The sun had almost set and the boy’s parents rushed out to meet him. They seemed more surprised by the giant white horse than the small Waltraute. The horse was from Asgard, so it had a strength that gave it a certain elegance.

They might have thought Waltraute was some kind of noble to be riding such a wonderful horse, but she was actually a god.

After being lowered to the ground by the small Waltraute, the boy smiled and spoke while completely ignorant of what his parents were thinking.

“Um, this is Waltraute. She’s my wife. We just went on our honeymoon.”

“Is that so?” replied his parents while smiling.

They seemed to think he was playing house with a neighborhood child. The only question on their minds was whether such a high class family lived nearby. They also sincerely hoped that the boy would not hurt her while they played.

“Bye, Waltraute. I’ll write you a letter.”

“Goodbye.”

After seeing the boy enter the house while waving, the small Waltraute began to return to Asgard.

But before she could, the boy’s father spoke.

“Please be a good friend to the boy.”

“I will.”

And then the effects of the apples of immortality wore off.

Waltraute’s 10 year old form was wrapped in bright light before transforming into a tall and glamorous beauty.

It was a slight annoyance, but the beautiful Waltraute ignored it and added, “As it was the outcome of a competition, I would never have wavered regardless. However, I, Waltraute the fourth Valkyrie sister, will vow once more. I may be inexperienced when it comes to mortality, but I will vow to remain by his side no matter what until the moment he dies.”

This time, Waltraute left the completely shocked parents behind (although it seemed she had not noticed the change in their emotions at all) and used Bifröst to break her existence down.

An unnatural aurora was drawn across the night sky as Waltraute returned home.

===Part 11===

“Hoo. That was some trip,” said Waltraute as she dismounted her white horse on the Bifröst runway in Asgard.

The third runway was still a gathering spot for goddesses and Freyja quickly noticed Waltraute.

“Oh? So you’re back?”

“Yes. A lot happened, but at least I was able to greet his parents properly. Our marriage was that boy’s reward for his victory. As the loser, I must ensure the marriage is handled properly.”

“You don’t have to translate every little thing into competition-speak. It’s kind of annoying. And more importantly…”

“What?”

“It looks like that boy’s papa fell for you when he saw your adult version. The mother has started violently attacking the man.”

“Ehh!? But I even announced I was the boy’s wife! What a pain!!”

Even if they had gotten married, even if they had overcome Ragnarök, and even if fate had been distorted a bit, Waltraute still had plenty of work ahead of her to ensure a happy marriage.

One big problem was currently presenting itself:

Due to various circumstances, her mother-in-law was very frightening!!

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