Editing MaruMA:Apollo2019a

===It comes equally to anyone II===

 
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I'll live here.

I'll live like this.


The ceiling was tall and the chandelier looked a lot like icicles.  Despite that, the light that poured down was a gentle yellow and was reminiscent of warm spring sunshine.

"Last year she fell asleep during Princess Tsubaki."

"It's because she's a year older now."

We each had a thin glass in our hand and were watching from a short distance away.  With sun-tanned skin and a shiny green skirt that only came up to her waist, her fluffy dress was like a flower bud about to bloom. There was a white decoration that could be wings hanging from the pin holding up her reddish-brown hair.

Lying on her chest was a silver chain and an emerald a little too extravagant for her age.  Actually not a little, a lot maybe.  As she was complimented wherever she went by adult women, she was happily explaining, "Thank you!  They're the color of my Daddy's eyes."

That 'Daddy' was by my side fawning over his daughter's mood.

"She's probably like that spring fairy she likes."  His eyes that were the same color as gems crinkled and a smile was forming on his lips.

"Tinkerbell is a made up fairy, though."

If you ignore the fact that judging by appearance they look like siblings, I thought they were the prettiest, most perfect parent and child in this big dance hall.

"What?" he asked, noticing me watching him from the side.

"Oh nothing.  I was just thinking your blonde hair was pretty."

"That again?"

We just made it through a New Year's concert, successfully beating back sleep.  This time last year, the kid was fast asleep and the adult that wasn't underage was drunk.  Compared to that, this year we were in the perfect condition for a countdown party.

"Daddy, Father."

"Welcome back, PRINCESS."

Our daughter who came back with a wide smile showed us a colorful object someone had handed her.  "The ladies gave this to me."

"It's a cracker and confetti.  You set them off at the same time the countdown hits the new year."

"Does it make a really loud sound?"

"It's kind of like a POP?"

Actually, she was more fascinated by the confetti.  They were very small pieces of silver paper half filling a clear ball in the palm of her hand.  It was like a snow dome without a Santa inside.

"Pretty."  She lifted it in front of her face and was watching the light pass through it.

"Apparently if you drop it on the floor, it will break and the contents will come fluttering up."

"Is it dangerous?"  Daddy was a worrier.

"If it was dangerous, the hotel wouldn't give them out.  I wonder what it's made of?  It doesn't look like it's glass... oops."

They both give me a suspicious look.  The tails of my tuxedo were vibrating.  I pulled out my caseless smart phone, but in the time it took to get it out, the caller had already hung up after a few short rings.  The caller ID screen that I caught only a glimpse of was a picture of glasses and there was no message.

My family of two that had taken a peek were unusually observant and didn't miss my notification settings.

"You personalized your caller ID for each person?"

"Eh?  Don't people normally do that?"

It took me a long time to start using them, but now that I have one I found that smart phones were convenient and now I can't be without one.

Since I was also becoming more lenient about the alcohol and champagne I had firmly refused before, even I was exasperated by how humans were prone to getting swept along.

"How about other people?  What images do you use for everyone else?"

"I use a kitty, a chrysanthemum, and a kiss mark among others.  The kiss mark was sent to me by the person in question.  But Daddy and the Lady are actual photos of you.  You're special because you're a beautiful man and woman."

"I don't remember becoming your father."

"Yeah yeah, I've written you down as Wife.  Here, look."

"I don't remember becoming your wife either.  Properly write me down as husband, properly!"

It was while I was messing around showing him the 5-inch screen that I saw the front end of the hall over his shoulder.




Near the door that led to the stage, he was there.

The man who wouldn't tell me his address or how he was doing or how to contact him.  On this... On this night where there are parties everywhere, against all odds we ended up in the same place.

He wasn't wearing the worn-out leather jacket that was the same color as his hair, but a near-black suit that didn't stand out.  He was clearly working.  He had come to guard someone and that someone wasn't me.  His gaze was sweeping from the door at his back to past the stage, checking the surrounding area in a half-circle.  It would have been better if I had turned my head away in the middle of that.

It would have been better if I had just looked down and avoided him.

But once our gazes met, I couldn't look away.  I mean, I know those silver stars more than anyone else.

The numbers of the countdown blinked and a performance began on the stage.  As a year was about to end after a period 60 seconds, I was taking, one, two steps towards the past.

While I was running a simulation of innocuous questions in my head like, "Did someone famous come?" or "Did you start being a bodyguard for bigwigs in politics and business?" I was advancing towards him at an irritatingly slow pace.  Even while knowing that if we meet, we'll inevitably end up arguing and saying goodbye while still in pain.

It happened when I opened my mouth to call his name.

I don't know which came first, the screaming or the explosive noise - the first sound happened at about the same time - but it was then that the chain of events started.  At first I thought it was everyone prematurely setting off their crackers, not gunshots.  In actuality, it was a high and hollow sound just like that.  However, that optimism was promptly betrayed by several people dropping their glasses and huddling down and the hall instantly whipped up into a panic.  Just who was it, from where, and who were they targeting?

The popping sounds don't stop.  People were standing stock still or crouching down or running for the exit, all taking different actions without any self-control.  When I tried to grab Greta's hand, I searched around for the Tink that had been nearby.

He's yelling something.

"Eh?"

"Yuuri, get down!"

Faster than I can react to his words, he came to cover me.  I was pushed backwards and my back banged onto the floor, but I didn't have the time to feel pain.

"... Conrad?"

The snow dome that got tossed down made a popping noise and burst open.  Silver snow stars scattered around all at once.

Conrad.  When I called out his name again, he finally gave a low reply.  Rather than a reply, it was more a groan.  Right around my thigh, something lukewarm spreads.  A metallic smell stings my nose.

"Conrad!  You're hurt..."

"It's okay.  This..."

While, dozens of people were clinging to each other or hiding under tables, they were trying to protect themselves and their important family.  But, no matter how much I looked around, I didn't see Wolfram or Greta.

Gunshots, glass, or one of those globes breaking, the explosive sounds were so intense I couldn't tell them apart.

"... is my duty."

"Duty?"

"Because I was the one who decided that you should return to Earth."

His back is blood and flesh and I can't quite wrap my arms around it.  But it's okay, once again.

"It's fine, Conrad.  I can do it again."

That's right.  I know.  As many times as it takes.

"It's okay!  I can just do it again starting from New Year's eve morning.  If I do that, then this time everyone, on Earth, everyone can live here happily."

I desperately drag mine and Conrad's bodies and lean against a table leg.  At a time like this, my smart phone that had fallen on the floor was vibrating nonstop.  The caller ID screen was glasses.  Like I was taking a unconscious action, I emotionlessly pressed the accept button.

"Shibuya!"

Of course, it was a voice I knew well.

"Murata."

"Can you hear me?  Shibuya, you can't stop there.  You have to watch until the end.  Until the very end!"





He sat up screaming.

However, since his throat was dry the sound that scraped out of this throat was more of a huff of breath like a cough and even though he tried to sit up, with his weakened body just lifting his back from the pillow was the best he could do.

"Shibuya."

Even so, it was a more than enough change in the too-quiet, white room to make a nurse run in from the hall.  I gave him water and waited until his pounding heart and breathing calmed.

"You woke up, huh?"

He nods.  Sometimes if you don't watch a dream until the end, you can't truly wake up.

"... There wasn't a happy future."

I don't know what kind of dream he saw, but I do know that he had clung to that dream.

"Everyone escaping to Earth and living happily was just a world I made up in my head."

He drinks the water in his hands again.  It's been a while since he's spoken so it looks like his voice is having a hard time coming out.  The sketchbook on the worktable is closed and the green paper is facing up.

While thinking to himself quite a while, Shibuya Yuuri muttered, "I have to go back."

"Go back where?"

"Where I'm needed.  I have to go.  I shouldn't have run away... That's right."

"Yuuri."

The king murmured while watching the falling snow outside the window.  Being brave, preparing himself.

"It was something I had to do, even if it risked my life."

He suddenly got out of bed and tried to walk away barefoot.

Because of his weakened muscles from being infirmed, his body swayed exaggeratedly.

Behind Shibuya's back, I held back the hand of the nurse who had stepped forward in a panic to help him

"It's okay."

I'll support him.



And even if I fall,

he can already stand on his own.





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