Jinrui wa Suitai Shimashita:Volume 1

Novel Illustrations

• 

  New cover

• 

  Original cover

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

  page 7

• 

  page 8 & 9

• 

  page 23

• 

  page 67, image insert

• 

  page 85

• 

  page 115

• 

  page 125, image insert

• 

  page 126 & 127

• 

  page 167

• 

  page 211

• 

  page 250, image insert

• 

  page 251, image insert

• 

  second edition page 254, image insert

• 

  second edition page 257, image insert

Chapter 1 - Planet of the Fairies

The vibration is horrible.

Paved many decades -- or rather, many centuries ago -- what may once have been a highway road is now nothing but a rocky path.

Its surface is irregular, weeds encroach on it from the sides, and many vein-like roots are spread over it. All of these things add to the chaotic intensity of the rattling.

On this sorry excuse for a path is a flatbed truck, trundling along with an air of indifference.

The quality of the ride is the worst, in a word.

As the truck navigates each bump on the road, sharp jolts travel up to its bed... shaking both me and the wooden crates I am packed with.

I am very bitter at myself for foolishly expecting a ride on the back of a truck to be an elegant one.

Even though the view of the flowers bordering this meandering road is a sight to behold, the soreness of my bottom is such that I cannot enjoy any of it.

The situation feels quite similar to the song "Dona, Dona".

"If only I'd sat in the passenger seat from the start... but I'm past that."

I softly vocalize my revulsion to the idea.

To sit in the passenger seat would mean I would eventually have to strike up a conversation with the caravan chief beside me in the driver's seat. For a person like me who loses her head and starts to blather when faced with strangers, it would have been a nerve-wracking experience.

Between my sanity and my bottom, I prefer to whittle down the latter.

But, as one would expect, I can't bear the pain any longer, so I face the truck's cabin and call out to the chief after taking a deep breath: "... How mush merr till we reach?"

I slurred my words a bit, but since the chief didn't really seem to notice, I shall refrain from repeating myself.

Ahh, I'm just awful at talking to strangers.

"Three, maybe four more hours, I'd say. That's if the weather stays fair, though."

Statuesque, the chief responds without so much as a glance towards me.

With a short thank-you, I ponder on the rugged solar panel module that is mounted above the truck's canopy like an umbrella.

While this truck appears to be a rare hybrid that can use both solar and fuel-cell-based power, only one of the two power sources seems to be in regular use.

As I ruminate on this, I grow restless.

Since I got a free ride, I can't really complain, though.

It's just that this behemoth of a truck is ambling on at all of 8 kmph.

"Four more hours of this..."

Presently, the chief begins humming.

It must be very comfortable to drive while basking in the sun.

Tiring of the pain in my bottom, I begin to raise my hips a little when the chief gives me a warning: "It's better not to stand up. There was once a person who did so; he ended up falling over the side. Oh, and then he died a slow death, tangled up in the tires."

That makes me sit right back down. I decide to distract myself from the implications of that anecdote by looking at the opposite edge of the road lined with wildflowers.

Most of my field of vision is filled with the yellow of rape blossoms.

What a handy plant rapeseed is; its seeds can be squeezed for oil and are also used in pickles.

However, I won't be caught making the mistakes of my childhood again; traipsing into these plants will only get me covered in a cloud of aphids.

My maiden heart is crumbling away, as is my patience for this ride on the truck's bed.

To keep my mind off the pain in my backside, I idly watch the scenery go by. Suddenly, I notice something popping its head out of the flowers.

...

Our eyes meet.

I would say the moment lasts for about a second?

As if to escape, the head rears back into the flowers.

"... Well."

I last saw one of those creatures as a child. This was a relatively short encounter, but my eyes weren't lying. Their kind leaves quite an impression even when seen just once, after all.

Forgetting even the persistent soreness of my bottom, I smile to myself.

"So they even live around here, huh?"

They are existences that live in any place inhabitable by people, but they are rarely ever seen by us. The unexpected encounter feels like a good omen to me.

I would be as friendly with them as possible. This is something of a duty I feel obligated to perform as one of 《School》's last graduates.

Leaning against the side of the truck with my cheek caressed by the gentle wind, I lose myself in my memories.

It has been two days since the graduation ceremony, which was held in an old and rotting lecture hall. You might think it remiss to hold a momentous ceremony like that in such a dangerous place, but rest assured, the hall was so old that it had neither a ceiling nor walls that could collapse on anyone.

When we entered the hall, whose floor was polished, leaving not a single pebble, we found a forest of twelve chairs in the middle. We stood around listlessly for a spell.

The sharp scent of the flower pinned to my lapel made the insides of my nose tingle. We all had the feeling that we would only be together until our flowers wilted. The only thing left for us to do after this would be to return to our hometowns, after all.

I had treated the notion lightly and had thought myself disinvested in the matter. However, as I entered the hall, my vision was clouded over, as if a mist had descended. It was a premonition that this ceremony wouldn't end so simply.

There were a number of attendees other than our professors in the hall as well.

Whoever it was, almost nobody in the room was a relative of us graduates. After all, we had left our homes far behind to stay in the school dorms. Most of the people present were school personnel.

There were more attendees in the hall than there were graduates, and the atmosphere was tense. We had all resolved among ourselves not to cry during the ceremony.

In the presence of so many guests, it would be embarrassing for us graduates, who were finally becoming adults, to cry. The expectation was that the ceremony would end quickly; there were only twelve of us graduates after all.

The professors lined up on the stage had other plans, though. They took their sweet time to call each graduate to the stage one-by-one.

As they did so, they would all talk a little about that graduate while Chopin's Farewell waltz was played in the background. Just a few simple words from the professors were enough to have everyone crying by the end; it was unbelievable.

Let me summarize the themes of the professors' addresses for you. It was laden with word choices that were, on occasion, mean-spirited, with bold and colorful figures of speech as well as inversions of expression that successfully shook the hearts of all who listened.

Where we expected cold realism, they employed lyrical sentences with personifications and vivid descriptions that evoked emphatic emotions. Such poetic gems were accentuated by expertly timed spells of silence, followed by more praise, in a constant cycle of adulation that culminated in a flood of tears in our eyes.

They were definitely messing with us.

I became a wreck in less than a minute, but everyone else was pretty much the same in this regard.

Even my friend Y, who didn't usually show any emotion in front of others, had tears behind her glasses after she stepped down from the stage.

I have a feeling the professors were secretly taking revenge on us for all the trouble we gave them. That's definitely what they were doing. After this session of public humiliation ended, each of us held in our hands an unblemished, pristine white graduation certificate.

More than a decade had passed, and I had learned and personally experienced a multitude of things, all for the sake of receiving this thin sheet of paper. But, mimicking the feather-like weightlessness of the certificate, the end of our journey left us with an unsatisfactorily hollow feeling.

All of us put our now-drooping flower decorations into the photo albums we got as souvenirs to turn them into pressed flowers. Speaking of photographs, they were becoming quite a rarity in recent times.

It used to be that one could look back on the past whenever they pleased by flipping through a photo album, but we could now only rely on our increasingly more ephemeral memories. The loneliness burst forth at the farewell party.

The indescribable chaos of it all and my inability as an observer to go against the flow means I can only give you a broad description of its elements. The farewell party proceeded as follows.

A feast full of dishes I had never seen before was brought in; fruit of all colors lay rolling on the floor; somebody set off some improvised firecrackers; champagne corks popped; there was an attempt at a piano performance; graduates shouting; graduates crying; graduates laughing; graduates who were dying of embarrassment after making fools of themselves (I was one of those); the red, puffy eyes of my friend Y returning from her roughly ten-minute session in the toilet; elderly guests sharing drinks; the younger graduate boys endlessly pouring each other drinks left and right; The scratchy tone of a jazz trumpet; Some random old lady holding my hand while crying; an off-tune chorus; a jumble of young graduates and old guests crying together, and the longer and shorter hands of the clock overlapping as the time passed midnight.

《School》 was humanity's last educational institution. Over a hundred years had passed since it came into existence as the agglomeration of the universities, cultural associations, and non-governmental organizations of the distant past.

The merger of all educational institutions was the natural conclusion of an accelerating decline in the human population. If the population decreased, so too would the number of children. The student population began to dwindle.

In turn, the schools and universities merged, and the scope of individual educational districts increased... This became a dominant trend. It all went downhill from there. As early as fifty years ago, boarding schools became the norm for education around the world.

In the past, institutionalized education was a given. But now, since the twelve of us had graduated, even humanity's last bastion of education, 《School》, was set to be shut down. From now on, education would once again become something inherited from parent to child. And now, I, with an aching bottom, am on my way home.

A huge shadow looms over our path. It is a gigantic camphor tree. Its profile is burnt into my memories from my childhood. That tree would act as a landmark separating the village from the outside world.

In this region dotted by the ruined remains of houses in a sea of luscious wild grasses, it stood out prominently. For a child, it was a three-hour journey from the village to the camphor tree. It was a popular tourist destination for the children of the village.

This truck would probably cover that distance in about two hours. I rest my back on my luggage and relax. A new life is waiting for me in the village. Having decided to find a job in my hometown after graduating, I am determined to take the path less traveled.

I have spent about ten years studying at 《School》 and have gained knowledge in a variety of fields, including cultural anthropology and engineering. The time has come to put all that knowledge to use.

As a scholar, I am still green behind the ears. Undoubtedly, this arduous journey would require the strength of youth, a will that would not give in to compromise, concessions, complacency, or laziness, and a fastidious spirit of inquiry.

There would be no hope of reaching the top without all these qualities. But I have in me a burning ambition to be recognized as a researcher. Being young is also a plus, and I have a chance to put my thoughts into action. There is nowhere else for me to go but forward. That isn't to say I would mind taking a few shortcuts on the way, though.

As the truck turns into a side street, the vibration stops. It seems we have entered the village of Camphorwood proper. The road is now much flatter, as one would expect from a place inhabited by people.

"Mhmmmmmm~" ... Even though my eyes are covered by a wet towel, and I am forced to sleep nestled between some wooden crates, the sharp decrease in vibration is all I need to understand where I am. The journey has sapped the strength out of me, and I can hardly gather the willpower to get up.

I clumsily fumble over the truck's bed, looking for its raised edge. Having found it, I muster the energy I have in my arms to straighten myself up.

Contorting myself like an inchworm, I finally lean over the back of the truck's bed and breathe out a sigh. I can feel a constant sourness on the back of my throat, courtesy of my vibration-tortured stomach.

In a maneuver reminiscent of a pull-up, I lift my face up to rest my chin on the truck's edge and open my eyes to take in the scenery.

The truck weaves about through the houses in the neighborhood. The fences surrounding them are close enough to reach out and touch with my hands. It seems even the main street of the village is too narrow for this kind of truck to pass through.

Ahh, my reunion with sweet, stable land is drawing near. With my energy somewhat restored, I scan my surroundings. There are clusters of houses in good condition retrofitted with smoke-belching tin chimneys. I suppose everyone is busy making dinner.

The houses inhabited by people are quite easy to spot owing to the bright pastel shades they are customarily painted with. But even if they are well-kept, these houses are most definitely decaying on the inside under the weight of centuries of history.

Without a good coat of paint, a house may last only a few years, but the unpleasant effects of acid rain are apparent even on the more fortunate ones. Even so, these pastel houses are now an indelible scene of the modern person's culture.

My childhood memories are curiously juxtaposed with the scene in my eyes. The memory of that one cottage with a garish pink paint job comes to my mind. As does the memory of going to the village hall to read books or play games. There was also that lovely old lady in the cream-white house whose hobby was making a variety of sweets with whatever ingredients children brought her.

The truck pushes forward and presently approaches a plaza. This round plaza was created by flattening a few buildings that had once been there. I can see a crowd standing there, waiting for the truck to arrive.

"wah!" - I pull my head back in, suddenly overcome with embarrassment. A strange shyness besets me as I contemplate seeing again the people I once knew.

Even at the best of times, talking in front of a crowd is something I dread.

I would have preferred to greet and talk to everyone individually, but this lumbering giant that has just stopped in the center of the plaza -- with me in it -- is attracting all the crowd's attention.

I scramble into a gap between some boxes to keep myself out of the view of the rear of the truck, from where I assume things will be unloaded. Yes, this will be an excellent place to hide. If I sit on the floor and keep my head down, I won't be seen. I intend to stay here until the heat is off me.

However, the world isn't so kind as to let me off like that.

With an ominous metallic squeal, a crank is turned, dropping the side of the truck's bed. Of course, the side that opens up happens to be exactly the side I have chosen to hide in. In front of the crowd that has assembled to relieve the truck of its load, my crouching figure is revealed.

One old man drops the pipe he was holding in his mouth.

This truck is the type that can open up not only at the back but also at its sides, it seems. A middle-aged lady with a familiar face snorts quizzically. Just as I remember her, she remembers me - "wait, are you perhaps-"

I quietly rest my head on my knees. After being embarrassed to death by everyone at the plaza, I drag my worn body home and rest my hand on the door.

"I'm home... Grandfather?"

My Grandfather's figure -- which is exactly as I remember it -- appears from within the dim house, wearing a lab coat and holding a hunting rifle. Seeing his brisk swaggering gait, unbefitting of his age, fills me with a sense of relief.

"Oh, you're finally back, huh?"

Grandfather, who has a large build despite his seniority, places his hand on my head (I am pretty tall for a girl as well).

"Hmm, you've grown."

"It's been so long, after all."

By the way, I pretty much shot up like a horsetail during my years at school. Any more growth after that will be rather troubling.

"Your skin's looking good... how do you feel about carrots?"

"...I still hate them."

Grandfather huffs like a spoilt child and says, "Looks like you haven't grown up at all on the inside."

"I have grown up... I think."

"Well, come on in. It's about time for dinner."

"Huh? Are we going to be hunting our dinner?"

I eye the rifle over his arm.

"There's no way we can hunt when it's this late. I was just remodeling this thing to increase its firepower a bit."

Grandfather has always been a gun nut.

"You came with the caravan, didn't you?"

"Yes."

I'm not going to mention the trouble that happened with the townspeople.

"Ah, by the way, Grandfather. I think you may have heard about it already, but I'm planning on becoming a mediator like you."

"There's some tasty watercress, you know. And this fried stuff will go well with bread as well."

My attempt to relay my plans to Grandfather goes in one ear and out the other.

Vegetable and jerky soup; fried fish, vegetables, pickles, and sliced round bread to turn those ingredients into sandwiches are lined up on the table.

Grandfather has prepared all this.

His culinary skills are honed from years of living alone.

He likes to cook whole roasts and smoked meat, but he sometimes also makes soups with delicate flavors. The smell fills me with nostalgia.

As I diligently make myself a sandwich with an extra helping of pickles the way I like it, I speak to Grandfather, who is sitting across the table.

"Ah, so School finally closed down, huh?"

"Yes, a lot of people related to School came to our farewell party... I was quite surprised."

"That's just how it is. The same thing happened back when I graduated too... Hey, now, you still haven't given up that habit of yours? Why don't you open a stall already?"

There are now five sandwiches lined up in front of me.

"It just doesn't feel right to make more at the same time as I eat them... Can't you cut me some slack?"

"Well, it doesn't really bother me."

I tend to get overly absorbed in my tasks and end up overdoing things.

Seeing my habit manifest, my friends would tease me about starting a cottage industry, while my family would suggest I open up a stall.

"Do you think you can eat all that?"

"Oh, definitely not. There's no way.", I replied, unabashed.

"Fool."

Grandfather's hands steal two of the sandwiches.

"You've grown taller, but you're still this frail, eh?"

"I prefer the term civilized."

"That's all in the past now, the past. The only things left of civilization now are its pieces."

"Speaking of which, that was the first time I rode on a solar-powered truck."

"Ah, that thing? If it were to break down and lose its power or speed, there'd be no way to fix it."

"Fortunately, it managed to get me home without that happening."

"The caravan people have some pretty interesting toys in their hands. I think it would be a good place for you to work, actually. You'd probably have fun there."

"Ah, but physical labor is rather tough for me, so I'd rather not."

Grandfather's expression changes as he remembers what I said earlier.

"Do you really want to take up mediation like me? You don't need to force yourself to do this, you know."

"I do. I went to all this trouble to get myself certified, and the office is still around, isn't it? I would like to take up a position that's officially recognized."

"You've got some rather strange tastes, don't you. Why do you want to be a mediator, of all things?"

"I think it is work I am aligned towards."

"Oh, and why's that?"

"... Because working in the fields would be really tiresome."

My true intentions have explosively revealed themselves in the heat of the moment.

"... That's your excuse?" says Grandfather, exasperated.

I keep a straight face under his sharp gaze.

"Surely you remember how weak I am, don't you, Grandfather?"

"No, you pretty much admitted that you wanted to slack off just now."

Did I really?

"Ah, no, we did have to do a bunch of stuff related to agriculture and animal husbandry as a part of our curriculum; such things are a given in this age! It's just that it was really tough for me.

But even an old person can do the work of a mediator; I wouldn't face any problems there because of my physique."

I can be quite free with my words in front of family.

"... You've brought some really strange traits back with you from school."

"mmwell..."

"your constitution isn't what's weak here; the problem is your lack of willpower."

"Hmm."

"If all you do is laze about, you'll be down a creek without a paddle once you're older."

"Mhm."

"Well, it would be quite impressive if you still thought this way after a month of this job."

"Is a mediator's job really that hard, though?"

Obviously, I did my homework on the particulars of it before I wrote the qualifying exam. The results of my investigation painted mediation in a very rosy light compared to the drudgery of farm work or manual labor, but what if I was mistaken?

Grandfather gives me a very short answer to my question:

"It depends on the person."

I tilt my head in confusion. The job description didn't really mention anything about harsh manual labor...

"Well, you dunce of a grandchild, let's see how much you get pushed around by them first, shall we?"

"What a nasty thing to say to a new hire!"

"You'll see soon enough. Come to the office tomorrow, and we'll get you set up."

And so the matter was settled.

It is already 8 when I wake up in my bed after what felt like a decade of sleep.

"I'm going to be late!"

It's nice to oversleep sometimes. I've built up so much fatigue from that ride home, after all. I mean, there's no way I wouldn't have, right?

In a tizzy, I bound out of my room to go survey the kitchen.

Grandfather is tackling his breakfast.

"What's with all this noise in the morning?"

"Ah...Good morning."

"Mhm, good morning," he replies calmly as he continues with his breakfast.

This feels weird. Something is definitely up. I stand stock still for a while, wondering if I am missing something.

"... What are you doing standing there?"

"Uh, well, you know..."

I, who lost both parents at a young age, grew up with my Grandfather. His educational policy was, in a word, spartan. Sleeping in and missing breakfast would usually earn me a knock on the head.

That hasn't happened today... What could that possibly mean? Has Grandfather just forgotten to punish me? Whenever I violated my 6 PM curfew or forgot even a single one of my chores, I'd get a rap on the head. Did he really just forget?

"I'll be off soon, you know. What are you going to do today? Aren't you coming by the office to introduce yourself?"

"Ah, yeah... I'll be doing that."

Breakfast has already been set up at my chair for me. This, too, is a nostalgic scene... I should just accept things as they are and be thankful.

"So, what'll it be? Do you want to come with me, or will you take the day off?"

"Uhm, but would skipping out today be all right?"

Will Grandfather's spartan ways allow for that?

Grandfather makes a face as if I were stating the obvious.

"You don't need to force yourself to start work in a hurry when you've just come back, do you? And you're the one who told me you didn't want to work much yesterday. You aren't looking too good, either.

Well, I suppose your body was bound to take a toll, seeing as you spent such a long time getting shaken up on the back of that truck. I heard you spent the whole time folded up into a triangle like some piece of luggage."

Aargh, I really want to deny that.

That's what you get with a place like Camphorwood that's out in the sticks and barely a part of the trade routes, I guess. Even in an age where one can't just make use of the communication devices of the past, information still manages to get around in an analog manner by word of mouth.

I stammer, "I-I-I'm p-p-perfectly healthy..." then, switching back to normal, I make a sing-song proclamation: "But I'm just a weak, sheltered, pitiable disappointment of a girl, so I'm going to be fashionably late to work today!"

Uh-oh, Grandfather is looking at me like I'm a charity case.

"Uh, is there a problem?" I ask.

"Nope. I'll see if I can at least give this weak, pitiable shut-in of a girl a job where she can sit at the window and count the leaves that fall by."

"Does a job like that really exist?"

"We might find such a job for you if we look," he replies.

"But, wouldn't I end up looking like somebody out of a sanatorium literature title if I did that?"

"Well, I suppose that's how it would look on the surface."

That really is how I would look.

As a recluse of the highest order, I am one who fills a particular niche in society. Since the children of this era are quite boisterous, my place in the ecosystem is pretty much unassailable.

But, due to my penchant for revealing my true nature to those close to me, people like my sharp-tongued friend Y rudely call me a walking swindle.

"Now, let's not think about all that," says Grandfather as he sips his tea. "I'm leaving now. You're welcome to come by if you feel up to it."

"Okay, I'll do that."

"Do you still remember where the office is?"

"Wasn't it at that building that looks like a stack of pancakes?"

"Yup. I'll only be around the office till noon today, so you'd do well to come before then. Put the cutlery in the sink before you leave, please."

He quickly pulls his lab coat on and hurries out.

Taken aback, I watch him go with a blank expression.

I guess corporeal punishment for sleeping in isn't going to be a thing anymore.

In my childhood, I was subject to a life of punishment for any misdemeanors, with no expectation of praise for my achievements. Grandfather suddenly not punishing me leaves me with an uncomfortable feeling.

Grandfather has always been merciless, after all.

It is a strange experience for me, this laxity.

Well, it's not like I want to be punished like that again... I eat my breakfast, feeling refreshed.

"Now, what shall I do..."

I'm not in a hurry to get to the office. Instead, I feel like doing something to take the edge off the gloom in my heart.

For now, I put the dishes in the sink and wander around the confines of the house.

This house is full of memories for me. It feels mostly the same, though some of the decor and the little nicks and dents on the wall are different.

Comparing the present with the past is a fun exercise. Soon, it becomes time to leave.

After a fifteen-minute walk along some rice fields, I reach a large, flat building resembling a Colosseum, known as the Camphorwood cultural center.

Within this building that looks like a big stack of pancakes, Grandfather devouts himself to his hobbies, his past-times, his interests, and his duties to the United Nations Mediation Council. The distribution of these activities is three, three, three, and one part, respectively.

Similar to the Colosseum that exists in a certain distant country, a part of this building is in ruins. And if you are worried about workplace safety, don't be; this building is one of the precious few large buildings still relatively undamaged.

This building has always been called the cultural center.

I suppose its initial purpose had been somewhat similar to a cultural museum, for the local populace to learn more about distant civilizations.

Because it had a great number of spacious rooms, it had in the past been converted into an office building. University labs, research organizations, religious organizations, businesses, warehouses, and many other entities had once taken up residence here. But, the age when this building had been so jam-packed is now fifty years in the past.

Nowadays, most of its rooms are empty and abandoned, and the village's children have made the building their playground.

"Pardon the interruption," I say as I push open the shoddily patched-up remains of a glass door.

Inside is a gloomy, dusty hall that reeks of neglect; dust has settled everywhere. For some reason, there is a single shoe lying on its side, adding to the desolate atmosphere.

Obviously, this place doesn't even have a receptionist.

I go up a spiral staircase that vaguely resembles one of those wooden palm helicopters to reach Grandfather's third-floor office.

Even though the employer is the UN, Grandfather has been its sole representative in the region until now.

If anything had happened to him before this, that would have been the end of the story for this particular branch of the UN. There is no end to the list of establishments that have befallen this fate in recent times.

That's the age of decline for you.

I haven't really studied the job description in detail, but I think I can manage.

"Ah, looks like this is it..."

I knock on a door with a board above it that reads: 《United Nations Mediation Council》.-- There is no answer.

"Uhh, excuse me, is anyone there?"

I knock on the door again, but no dice.

Looks like nobody's there.

With a sigh, I proceed to turn the doorknob softly. I'm not really doing anything wrong, but my heart races a little, nonetheless.

"... Grandfather?" I begin before letting out a gasp in surprise as I enter.

"Woah..."

One of the chamber's walls is covered with an array of various firearms.

Evidently, Grandfather's private collection.

It's enough to make me feel like the entire room reeks of gunpowder. Of course, that probably isn't the case, but it definitely feels like it.

What is one to think?

In any case, if you were to look past this sea of threatening trinkets, you'd find a perfectly decent little office setup.

A dark grey floor with the linoleum peeling off, office desks placed appropriately in three cubicles off to one side, and a prim sofa set where guests would be received.

Only one desk appears to be in regular use, burdened with a mountain of documents and a chaotic mess of cups, pen holders, and memos. That is probably Grandfather's desk.

One other desk also seems to be in use upon further inspection. It is strangely uncluttered, with only a few paperbacks and some pens on top. Whoever sits there doesn't seem to be working much.

Alternatively, perhaps Grandfather has monopolized the use of both of these desks.

The remaining desk seems to be brand-new, with no sign of use at all.

I assume this desk would become my domain.

"There's so much dust..."

Looks like I'll spend my first day cleaning my desk.

It isn't anywhere near as tedious as farm work, so I'm not complaining, no sir!

Oh, and the place where the sofas are, ostensibly used to receive guests, is currently being used to store oil lamps for use at night. It just goes to show how few guests would come by here.

I decide to sit down a little to strategize.

"Hmm, what shall I do, what shall I do indeed ..."

Now that I see it, there's another door leading to a different room here. And just as I become aware of it, the door opens.

So Grandfather was in there, eh?

"Ah, you're here."

"Hello."

"This is your desk," he says, pointing his chin to the empty desk.

"Yes, I'm settling myself in."

"Congrats on getting the job!" says Grandfather with a laugh.

"Yes, thank you very much."

"Let's get a pot of tea going. By the way, this place does get water from the rainwater tank above sometimes, but it isn't potable. As a collectively agreed rule, we always make sure to bring some drinking water."

"You say it's something you've agreed on with others, but you're pretty much the only one around to follow it, aren't you, Grandfather?"

"You're here now, so that makes it the two of us," he concludes the conversation as he walks back into the other room. It seems like that room is some sort of office kitchenette.

"Here"

Accepting the cup from Grandfather, I say, "Thank you. Is it really only the two of us here?"

"Hmm? You didn't hear from Okugetsu?"

Okugetsu is a UN employee.

They were known by their initials, OG, at school. Unfortunately, I only ever interacted with them through letters, so I can't say I know them.

"What is it you're speaking of, then?"

"The assistant."

"Wait, this is my first day, and I get an assistant already?"

"Are you daft? I was talking about my assistant."

"Ah."

That was a rather scathing remark.

"So there was a third person..."

There go my plans of passing off all the work.

"I thought you would have known, but you still haven't let go of your shyness, eh?"

"It's not that I'm shy... Oh, but let me ask you something. Is that assistant of yours an elderly lady?"

"Nope, he's a young one."

"Ah..."

The tone of my voice falls with the deluge of concentrated melancholy pouring over me.

"What are you so afraid of? Wasn't School a coeducational facility?"

"... Well, the birth rate is just so low, you know... And my batch was the last one at School too. There weren't many boys around, and even then, the ones closest to my age were four years younger than me. Though it still took me a long time to get used even to them."

"You don't need to worry then; he's a quiet lad who wouldn't hurt a fly."

"No, no, that's not really what I'm worried about."

"Since you're dreading the prospect that much, how about you work in a different room," he said, pointing to the side door. "It's a little cramped, but there's enough space for one person there."

"I couldn't ask you to do that!"

"You're a difficult grandchild to please, aren't you?"

"No, it's not that I'm horrible at talking to boys... It's just something I need to work on," I said with a sigh as I clapped my hands on my cheeks.

I proclaim, "All right, let's just treat this as the price for a good work environment and go with the sheltered girl strategy for me."

"What manner of strategy is that?"

"The kind of strategy where I don't talk to anyone and come to be perceived as a delicate and reserved person."

"Sounds boring."

"I'd be grateful if you could get off my back on that. In any case, is that assistant of yours not around?"

"Ah, there's a doctor who came with the caravan people today, so he's gone for an appointment."

"Is he sick?"

"Indeed, he's the picture of ill health. Oh, by the way, the village hospital's furnace needs to run, so we're in the middle of a brown-out."

Electricity is not something just anybody can use nowadays.

"It'll take him a while to return since he'll be getting a checkup back at the hospital. Use the rest of the day to build a nest and break yourself in."

"You shouldn't treat humans like birds or animals..."

"I see. Are you okay with keeping the desks as they are, then? You'll be facing his desk, so you'll end up seeing him every day, you know."

No way. I frantically look for a better position for my desk.

Ideally, I would like to be out of anybody's line of sight while still being in a position to observe what is going on elsewhere. Back at School, I always preferred the back row because I could stay out of sight and use my height to my advantage.

'Ah, that place looks good,' I think as I eye the reception area.

"Grandfather, about that part of the room..."

"Nothing doing. That's the parlor, and we use it to receive guests every once in a while."

"But it's just being used as a place to put all those lamps, isn't it?"

"They get put away when somebody comes visiting. Just forget about it. Having a small, cozy place dedicated to receiving guests really brings out a certain quality in an old office like this one."

"You and your weird excuses..."

Grandfather is a man with very particular tastes.

"What about them? Just figure out where you want to put your desk for now. I'll start giving you some paperwork or something else to do after that."

"All right."

"Well, if you'd like, you could introduce yourself to them."

"Ah, I suppose this isn't something I can skip, is it?"

"Doesn't matter."

I widen my eyes in surprise.

"Why?"

"It's up to the one concerned here, and that person is you. If you don't feel the need to talk to them, you don't need to. Just do as you will."

Freedom!

Wait, but what am I supposed to be doing in this job, then?

Grandfather seems to have sensed that I have some questions and continues.

"We don't really have any restrictions on what we can do, but we mediators are, in essence, just paper pushers."

"Then, what will this job entail?"

"It has to do with them. There isn't a lot that needs doing here, to be honest. There was no end to the work back when this post first came into existence, but being a mediator is nothing more than a decoration nowadays."

"I see."

I idly process these words that have all the impact of a can of flat soda.

"You should be glad to have found a job as comfortable as this one."

"I think there's been a misunderstanding; I picked this job solely on the basis of my stamina, or lack thereof. I don't want to do things like farm work because I hate manual labor, I don't enjoy being in the sun, and I hate bugs."

"Anybody who hears you say that will just call you lazy. Though I do agree that farming is rather tedious."

"Yup, yup, isn't it just?"

He understands because he is rather lazy himself.

"I think we should hunt for lunch today."

His is the creed of the hunters and gatherers.

"I'm fine eating whatever comes to me at the table..."

"People like you are eating up what's left of civilization!" he berated me.

"If there was no other way to eat, I'd do anything I could, you know. But I don't need to since there are still jobs like this."

"I suppose that's true... Hmph," said Grandfather with a smirk as he fiddled with his mustache, "but no, I've changed my mind. A little hard work will do a world of good for young people like you. Go introduce yourself to them. This is an order from your boss."

"Well, I guess introductions are important."

The atmosphere of the office feels tenser now that I know I have to introduce myself to more people.

My motivation to do fieldwork is climbing.

"So, where is their village?"

"Ah, there."

A map of the village is on one wall.

I trace my finger over the minute details of the map. The limits of our village are highlighted in red, dangerous areas clearly marked, and, in one place alone, is a sticker that looks like a tricorn.

"Huh, what's this?"

"We call that place their village."

Let me clear this up for myself again.

"About this marker, isn't it in the wrong place? I saw one of these symbols on the way to the village... But that was quite far from where this is."

"I don't know what you're on about. How about you just go and have a look for yourself? It's about half an hour away. The terrain makes it a bit of a trek, so it'll be good exercise for you." says Grandfather with a grunt.

"All right, I shall go there."

"Here, lunch."

Is that Grandfather's afternoon snack? He takes a few buns out of his lab coat's pocket and gives them to me. I wish he could have at least wrapped them up...

"Do I need to bring any documents... or anything that requires a signature for the introduction?"

"No, you don't; why would you think that? Do you think you'll be drawing up a contract or something? Just go on, and say hello if you see one of 'em."

"If I find one of them?"

"They aren't all that rare... You should see one of them if you're lucky."

"I don't really get what's going on here, but I suppose I'll give it a shot."

"Here, water."

I accept the proffered water bottle.

"Is there anything I need to watch out for with my manners when I introduce myself?"

"Nope. Figure it out for yourself."

"I feel like all the investigation I did about this job means nothing now..."

"I'm guessing the materials you went over were probably something like correspondence manuals from back when this organization was first instituted. Times were tough back then, and we needed to be delicate with how we handled things, but all that is in the past now. Just come with me. Treat it all as experience points for your career."

"What's with that sketchy wording..."

---

After cresting a small hill and walking down the slope, I find myself in front of a place marked with a familiar tricorne symbol. This plot of land, which is apparently their village now, used to be a place where resource collectors would store their loot.

The resource collectors didn't bother to retrieve their loot, or should I say, junk, so it gradually grew into a large tower, something of an attraction in the village.

"That's really high..."

A doorless refrigerator; a washing machine that is cracked down the middle; broken loudspeakers; a guitar amplifier with its knobs taken off; flat tires; a stringless guitar; a microwave greasy with oil; a non-foldable bicycle that is crumpled up as if it could be folded...

These are just a few examples of the many things comprising this tower that reaches several times my height.

There is no way to use these things now; they can only be left here abandoned. There isn't any way to fix them either, and nobody can harvest any parts due to either rust and decay or because nobody has the technical knowledge.

But, the fence surrounding the scrapyard is still standing, with a gate secured by a chain.

I am stumped now.

I need to open this door to get in. As one would expect, though, I don't have its key.

Naturally, I am nothing but a weak young girl, quite dissociated from fantastic things such as tearing apart iron chains with super strength. I suppose there's no helping it; I'll have to go back...

"Eii."

The chains break apart quite easily when I pull at them.

Just so you know, these chains are really rusted up.

And with that, my fieldwork continues.

There is no groundskeeper guarding the place or anything; it is completely abandoned. Anyone would be free to waltz right in and do what they would.

First, I'll have to come a little closer to that precariously tall tower of junk.

I'm not about to get too close to it since I feel like it could collapse at any time. If I get caught under falling debris, that would be the end of me.

Dangerous as it is, they are partial to such places.

Somehow, there is something here that stimulates their childlike spirits. This is, after all, a spot that mischievous children would love.

Let's take a walk around the area.

I find myself in front of the place where the administration building might have been. However, The years and the elements don't appear to have been kind, and only its foundation remains.

"Hellooo...?"

I try calling out, but there's no response.

I'm quite sure this is the place indicated by the tricorne symbol, but I see no sign of them being here.

Maybe they're under the flagstones strewn around...

I turn one over, but all I see are some roly-polies and centipedes.

"That was extremely rude of me."

I softly put the stone back down.

After this, I try going around the trash heap the long way, but there is nothing new to see.

"Is nobody theeere?"

Not a peep. It seems like this place is well and truly deserted.

The people I'm supposed to mediate for aren't here for me to introduce myself to, so I'm left jobless.

I've done everything I can at this point.

"Down the hatch..."

Eating the buns I have in my pocket is all that's left to do here.

Having returned to the office, I report to Grandfather, who's busy aiming a gun at a distant house through the window.

"There was nobody at the junkyard, so I came back after I lunched on the buns and the water."

"Tell me, was it tasty?"

"It tasted like normal buns and normal water."

"Hmm, I suppose that's how it is."

"I experienced absolutely nothing there!"

"You got to enjoy a relaxing stroll at the very least, didn't you?"

"Tell me the truth, Grandfather; you knew there wouldn't be anyone there, didn't you?"

"Well yeah, there's nobody at that mountain of junk."

I breathe out a sigh at this.

"I only wasted time there."

"Can't you see that your Grandfather was just trying to get his weak-willed granddaughter to exercise a little?"

"I hate exercise."

Grandfather covers his eyes at this. He looks really exasperated. I feel like I'm about to get one of his signature knuckle sandwiches, but he instead just sighs - "Ah, whatever."

Wow, I'm really sailing through today.

With disappointment in my heart, I verify my conclusions on all this.

"In short, it's all just a lie, and there's nothing but junk at the place marked with the tricorne?"

"That's not true. They prefer most places where the touch of human life still exists. It's quite likely there are a considerable number of them hiding around there."

I groan.

"Grandfather, I know part of a mediator's job is to monitor them..."

"No doubt, no doubt."

"But they hardly ever even show themselves, so are there even any details or accounts of interaction with them?"

"I suppose that's where every one of us gets stuck," says Grandfather as he sips his coffee. He continues, "Even I had to get pretty creative with them."

"In that case, give me your know-how!"

"Nope, impossible."

"Am I being hazed here?"

They are beings that naturally flourish while hidden away from humanity.

For us humans who know nothing of reading the wind or hiding our presence, it is nigh impossible to find them, feral and isolated as they are.

"If you don't start thinking critically now, you'll never be able to handle this job. If you really want the position, you'd do well to consider this as good training."

I do have some motivation... It's just that I would want to pick up whatever I can from my seniors in the field as well first."

"And that's precisely what I'm asking you to figure out for yourself."

This riles me up a little. I just have to get some information out of him now.

"Well, since I'm so new to all this, I'd like you to show me how it's done, Grandfather."

"No way, I have better things to do. What do you think I hired an assistant for?"

"It's obvious that you'd have a million things to do. On the other hand, as a greenhorn in this field, I want to quickly and efficiently absorb the skills and techniques of the trade, then quickly mature by putting myself on the highway of wisdom; I need to quickly mature by putting myself on the highway of wisdom!"

"Y-you just... repeated yourself..."

Grandfather looks a little flustered now; I feel like I've gained some ground.

"I don't believe in wasting time."

"All right, I get it; that's enough out of you. So tiresome..."

Wisdom really does come with age, as evidenced by how quickly Grandfather regains his footing.

"I'll be frank; there's nothing I can teach you. This was never my job in the first place. I don't have much of that 'know-how' you're thirsting after, and there's nothing special that I've been involved in either."

"So you gave up your previous position and switched to this job?"

"Indeed."

He says this unabashedly.

"Well, I had to because my lab was being shut down. If I wanted to stay here, I had to take on the role of a mediator, even if only in name. I haven't ever accomplished anything as a mediator.

"A mediator only in name..."

"It's a very unassuming job. I probably shouldn't be saying this to you now, but... I don't think they need us mediators either."

"But, when we get down to brass tacks..."

"It's become a question of what to do with them. If we don't engage with them, they'll never reveal themselves to us. If there's no contact, there'll be no friction. It's a bit of a pompous philosophy, but I'd say doing nothing is the best way to go about this job."

"But that would mean a mediator's post has no meaning..."

"There just isn't any reason for it, hmm?"

"Ohhhhh..."

The shock of this realization makes me want to faint backward on my chair.

All I want is a comfortable and intellectually stimulating job. If you were to ask me if I wanted a position where I just sat around, my answer would be a resounding "NO"; I just want the wholesomeness of a proper, efficient life.

"All this time, I'd thought a mediator's role was important..."

"It probably was a century or two ago."

"Guhhh..."

"Well, it isn't as if a position like this has a place in these times where the entire currency system has collapsed and become one of payment in kind. It's just one of those things that people need to feel like they are helping. Such historical posts are kept up through the inertia of tradition, even if only in name. Oh, here. I've got your starting salary and your ration tickets."

He tosses a white envelope onto the table.

"W-wait, it isn't the end of the month yet..."

"The caravan with the rations is only going to be here at the end of the month anyway. Think of it as an advance."

"Th-then, it doesn't really hold much value, does it?"

"Not at first, is all."

With my heart having absorbed this damage, I am rendered speechless. Grandfather then continues to psychologically torture his defenseless granddaughter with more despair-inducing, bleak words.

"I think I'll hand over all the mediation work to you now. I know you don't know too much, but just puzzle it through. Ah, and if you really want to do something, you could submit a report or a presentation to me when you feel like it, I suppose."

Looks like Grandfather has stated his intention to retire from this job while sprinkling in a few irresponsible statements while he's at it.

"Hold on now, Grandfather. We can't possibly just end it like this. Think of your position as my boss... Oh, and could you please stop fiddling with your gun in the middle of the conversation?"

"I'm looking forward to the hunt next week."

Having pushed the polished muzzle of his rifle out of the window, he peers into its scope.

"... So these are the harmful effects of switching from government service to a private sector job..."

"This is the only thing I have to look forward to anymore. Must you so boorishly trample on this old man's dark pleasures like this?"

"So you admit that they're in bad taste?"

Grandfather is very steadfast in his beliefs.

"Well... That being the case, could you at least give me a few pointers, so I can take the job over quickly and smoothly?"

"That's the thing. I hadn't been at this job for too long... Hrmm, yes... No, wait."

He gets up and walks to one of the cabinets in the office, then reaches in and starts rifling through each and every file.

He rummages around noisily for a while before pulling out a thick file.

"Ah, found it. Come over here and look at this. It's a collection of records left behind by a senior of ours. Probably my predecessor's property, now that I think of it. It's been about thirty years now, I'd guess?"

"Whatever, so it's some kind of hint book then?"

"It would be nice if it is."

I accept the file and flip through it.

It appears to be a daily journal that holds material to be compiled into an actual report.

The file's contents seem to be nothing but the recorded struggles of a young mediator trying to establish a rapport with them (with a bit of wishful thinking mixed in).

With illustrations added where necessary, the file outlines the particulars of our predecessor's experiences in their company.

"This should be quite useful as a reference, I think. By the way, what is your senior doing now?"

"Nothing much; he's dead."

Death is the one constant in the cycle of life.

"He was quite reserved, so I can't tell you much about him. What did he die of... I can't remember now."

He stands around, lost in thought for a minute, but then says, "I'm hopping out for a little," and leaves with his lab coat.

Left alone, I busy myself with the contents of the file in my hands.

---

○ Month×Day

I'm a mediator as well now, starting today.

It's nothing more than a title now, but maybe there's something I can achieve with the strength of youth at my side.

I want to do my best here.

I've already said goodbye to my village as well.

It was a challenge, but I think I did well for myself, thanks to the tricks I learned from my professors.

It will be good if I can establish good relationships from now as well.

---

○ Month×Day

Having spent a few days on the job, I think I've got the hang of it.

I've already gotten a chance to see the wonders of their technology.

I'd heard the rumors, but it really exceeded my expectations...

I understand now how important this job is. Why this department is so understaffed is beyond me, however.

It would be nice if I had a camera...

I suppose I will make do with sketches instead.

(The rest of the page is missing)

---

○ Month×Day

A banquet was thrown for me today.

I was received warmly.

The food was first-class.

Wine, meat, and fish. Mountains of delicacies. Dishes that used a variety of fruits.

That was time truly well spent.

---

○ Month×Day

I was received warmly today, too.

There were many items on the menu with ingredients I had no knowledge of.

First off, I wonder where all this meat and fish came from...

I've never heard of them doing any kind of hunting.

I should make this a central theme in my investigation.

---

○ Month×Day

I'm given a passionate welcome whenever I come to visit.

Should I be happy about this, even though it hinders my investigation efforts?

I shouldn't meddle with their affairs, but I do want to appropriate some materials.

---

○ Month×Day

The investigation isn't progressing.

Nothing has changed. Another day, another feast.

---

○ Month×Day

Ahh, today they put out yet another feast with dubiously sourced ingredients...

All these dishes are just recreations of our cuisine.

This is the first time I've tried this thing known as beefsteak.

Now this is something you don't get to eat every day.

The flavor of this meaty creation is unforgettable.

---

○ Month×Day

The food today was especially extravagant!

It was one culinary marvel after another.

I was practically drowning in it.

I believe this food was Chinese court cuisine from the old days.

I want to take the investigation forward... But then again, I still have plenty of time. There's no rush.

---

○ Month×Day

I feel really spoilt by them.

All I can do is relish the special course meals they put out for me.

What else am I to do?

I now understand how varied the flavors of the world used to be.

I have also been served a variety of spirits. There's an alcohol-tasting session every day.

---

○ Month×Day

I had sushi today.

As usual, I haven't ever had much of it before, but it is truly delicious.

The crab soup was also amazing.

---

○ Month×Day

Today's fare was Turkish.

I don't like beans or eggplant much, but I never knew they could taste this good.

That milky-white regional spirit known as rakı was also lovely.

---

○ Month×Day

If they don't have bread, let them eat cake.

---

○ Month×Day

It was one beefsteak after another today.

One spirit after another.

Beefsteak, alcohol, beefsteak, alcohol...

---

○ Month×Day

Beef... Alcohol...

---

I close the file without a word.

The windows are wide open, and I have a clear view of the sky. It would feel really good to just huck this thing through the sill, wouldn't it?

This was supposed to be a valuable resource? This crummy thing?

The only thing it's good for is a proper scandal.

"How was it?"

Grandfather has returned.

"There was nothing but beef and booze."

"Good, good! You're on the right track."

I'm on the right track, he says.

The final entry of this thing says nothing but "I shall commence the attack on my dinner"!

"Honestly, I don't think this is of any use to me as a reference."

"At the least, you might have gotten a sense for how good the job is."

"Uhmm, I've been meaning to ask; regarding your predecessor's cause of death..."

"Ah, I remember now! It was cirrhosis."

I see. Just what I thought.

"He died a good death, didn't he, for this age."

"Take this as an example of what happens if you eat and drink too much."

"I've always been a light eater."

I want to just cradle my head in my hands.

"So, is this the only such file you have?"

"Well, why don't you take a look in the drawers over there? Maybe you'll find something useful."

"Ah, this huge thing... Where do I start..."

There's a huge office cabinet that takes up most of the wall on one side of the room. I wonder how long it would take to sift through all the things in it...

I absent-mindedly lose myself in my thoughts.

If I were to take my work seriously, my troubles would increase exponentially, but if I slacked off, I could lead a life of comfort... I do want to have it easy. It's true. But I have two conflicting desires within me; I want to do something useful, but I also want to take things easy.

"Speaking of which, Don't you have a file of your own, Grandfather?"

"Nope. I never made one, after all."

I thought as much, but...

"Did you really, truly not put anything down on paper?"

"I was, to the end, nothing but a figurehead."

"I see why I haven't gotten any good advice now."

"How rude... But I do have a tip for you. Hmm, yes... You want to be able to do your job as a mediator and talk to them, don't you? So you just need to get some of them together somewhere."

"Yeah, pretty much."

Grandfather's reluctant expression soon turns into a more thoughtful one. He then looks up at me and says, "How about something sweet?"

"Sweet? Like sugar?"

"No, I'm talking about sweet food. There are lots of different kinds, aren't there? Confectionaries and all that. They really like that stuff."

"Are you saying we should try baiting them out with sweets?"

"Yes... Back in the day, I'd use a strategy where I would bury a little jar in the ground, put some honey in it, and wait a little, to tremendous effect."

"We aren't catching rhino beetles here, though..."

"It's all the same when it comes to sweet things like honey. They're all slaves to their instincts."

"I've got some words to say about this, but let's leave that for later. Regarding this strategy of yours, won't it also attract other unwanted things?"

"You can just separate out the chaff by hand."

"That's just going to traumatize me!"

"You aren't going to be fit for any fieldwork with that attitude."

"Ahhh, I suppose that's true... All right, I'll do it. Thank you, Grandfather."

I leave the office with the envelope of ration tickets in hand.

By the time I make a trip to the plaza where the caravan is, hand over a ration ticket for luxury items, select a bottle of sorrel from the caravan's remaining stock, and get back home, it is almost 6 o'clock.

"I'm home!"

"Ah, welcome back."

I regretfully note that the clock reads a minute past six, meaning I've broken curfew. I suppose I'll just have to accept the consequences.

"Now, then."

I lower my head apologetically, waiting for Grandfather's fist to come down on it.

"...What are you doing?"

"Huh? No punishment?"

"What am I supposed to be punishing, I wonder?"

Hold on a minute, what's going on here?!

A nasty feeling is starting to swell up in me.

Not one to foolishly stir up trouble, I hurriedly withdraw into my room. I shouldn't jeopardize my lucky streak by investigating from whence it came.

The next day, I leave the house to reach the trash heap directly without saying a word to Grandfather.

The air is dead still as usual, with nary a sign of life, hidden or not.

Having found a suitable location, I set about digging a hole. It is only about ten centimeters deep, so I finish digging in an instant. I then place an old tin can inside the hole and tidy it all up. As for bugs and other unsavory intruders, the lip of the can is a little raised off the ground to hinder them.

The work is completed in just a few minutes.

If I pour some honey into this can, then leave it out overnight and visit it the next day, I would probably be treated to a wonderfully shocking display of the insect population in the area.

I'm not sure using a sweet liquid here is a good idea.

I wonder, as a layman, whether switching to a solid medium would reduce the potential targets this trap will attract...

And so I take a small jar of konpeito I had previously made and pour in enough to hide the bottom of the can. All that's left to do is wait.

---

"You also need to think about the fun factor of the place."

"fun factor."

What a suspicious pair of words.

After I returned to the office for the second time to beg for another piece of advice, these were what I got.

"When the fun factor of an area is low, they become less active. And if their population is too low, they won't stick around without some external factors."

"Fun... Like a festival?"

"Not just that. Games, sweets, dancing... There are so many things you could consider fun."

"You gave me yet another vague piece of advice..."

"Did you try the usual way first? What happened? Did you catch any beetles?"

"I went to check on the trap after about six hours, but all I saw was a conveyor belt of ants; no beetles had found it."

Grandfather looked a little sad after he heard that.

"You can't catch them by just sitting around. You have to make the place more colorful."

"I wonder what I can do to increase the fun factor..."

"I think there are many ways to do this. For example, how about one of those flags that you see placed on top of rice in a kid's meal, those miniature flags?"

"It doesn't seem like it would leave much of an impression to me."

Perhaps Grandfather was referring to the universal menu commitments found in the restaurant industry, but that isn't something my generation is familiar with.

"I'm just giving you an example of an example, but imagine cutting vegetables into star shapes to get children to enjoy eating them."

"Ahh, so you're talking about that kind of gimmick. They used to do that to us all the time at School."

"Did that to you? What a weird way to put it."

"I wasn't one to take things lying down."

I recall my time at the dorms, where every meal served would become akin to a war zone.

The matron, who had taken up an unrealistic and deeply delusional mission to feed every child carrots by any means. And on the other side, my mortal coil, with a solemn determination towards avoiding the sweetness that would cause such a nauseating feeling to well up in my chest.

To make matters worse, I wasn't the only one who refused carrots.

It was just a coincidence that all my batch mates also hated that biennial member of the Umbellifer family, but the fact that nobody ate their carrots was due to a deliberate covenant between us all.

The progress and evolution of that struggle bore an eerie resemblance to that of one particular historical conflict.

At first, it was a very primitive exchange. Both sides were defenseless and had evolved in a closed environment with no natural predators. The situation bore a resemblance to those large herbivorous mammals of the past (Such species have long gone extinct). The carrots were served up in the open: roasted whole, or as salad sticks, or round slices roasted in butter or boiled... The carrots were seen as such on the table, guilelessly and with no attempts made to hide their origin.

But the matron soon started noticing something. Or rather, many things.

First off, the fact that the carrots were still there on the plates after meals. One couldn't help but notice something like that, though. The matron duly lodged her complaints with us, but as we kept up our firm stance of resistance against her words, she soon gave up on that front. She wisely realized the futility of persuasion through dialogue. Since intimidation through words didn't work, all that was left was the advancement of technology.

The culinary technique of carving the vegetable into star shapes was just the first step in the plan. And while this fruitless war escalated significantly through the introduction of the contaminant in small amounts within vegetable juice, the real battles were being waged through information warfare behind the scenes.

For example, a marking would indicate:

There's going to be a campaign against the stockists today.

There's a basket of that stuff hanging over there, or, I've found a case full of it in the corner of the kitchen. Such coded whispers would drift about.

"That stuff" being around in the kitchen meant we'd need to be wary of the food for the day.

When the matron caught wind of these foolish utterances, she attempted to manipulate us with her words. But if she carelessly said something like, "Rejoice, you lot, there are no carrots today," a task force composed of the younger kids would instantly form, steal into the kitchen and remove all those carrots that weren't supposed to be there as a blunt political tour de force.

I was only halfway through my story, but Grandfather waved me away, looking exhausted.

Story time was over.

"You're quite brazen for someone who's supposed to be shy, aren't you?"

I wanted to point out that this was a result of my personal growth.

"Getting back on topic, am I correct in my understanding that even just the use of a toy flag will increase the fun factor, then?"

"There's no chance it wouldn't."

"I see. I shall try this out."

A flag. That was something I could easily make.

After lunch, I selected a nice twig and some cloth to make a flag.

Regarding flag designs; I had a hard time choosing a country.

Some national flags could easily be hand-made, others couldn't.

I borrowed an encyclopedia from Grandfather and looked up flag designs. Indonesia and Libya looked easy. One of the Libyan flags, for example, was just a solid color.

On the other hand, flags of countries like San Marino were quite complex and difficult to reproduce.

The design had to look fun too.

I also considered flags like Sri Lanka's that had animals on them, but after much deliberation, I decided that the country from the 21st century with the flag that had the highest fun factor was... Seychelles.

It had that particular feeling to it; a wide, sprawling feeling.

---

And so, a day after, I leave for the junk mountain with the completed flag in hand.

The diligence of the ants can't be underestimated; the konpeito I had left yesterday has vanished without a trace. My trap is an utter failure.

Now then, all I need to do is set up shop over here again, but can I count on the social insects known as ants to forget that this used to be one of their feeding sites?

I change the hole's location and bury the can up again. I then complete the setup by sticking the flag on the side.

All right.

The round trip the first time was tiring enough, so I'm going to stick around and observe this time around. I have diligently gathered all the things I would need for this already.

I spread out a picnic mat a short distance from the trap.

I then take out the other things. A lunchbox, a flask, tea cakes with some reading material, a hat, a sketchbook with a pencil, and an old pair of binoculars.

The binoculars alone, I borrowed from Grandfather.

It isn't a bad idea to enjoy some fieldwork on a clear, cheery springtime day like this. A sketchbook and some novels are all I need to keep me occupied for half a day.

I clap my hands crisply, feeling motivated.

"Now."

I lie on my belly, propped up on my elbows, and look through the binoculars.

---

I wake up feeling comfy.

With the cloud-covered sun on my back, it looks like I'd fallen asleep.

"Darn it..."

My fieldwork-turned-picnic plans are starting to come apart.

A few hours have already passed. Time always flows gently and cruelly forth. The sun is still up, but since it is already past noon, it won't be long until the sky is dyed by the setting sun.

And now I find that my binoculars are gone. This has me quite disconcerted. I rummage through my belongings, swiveling about like a spider before sighing in relief, having found the binoculars near my ankles. Such intricate mechanical tools are hard to come by, and I would be hard-pressed to replace the binoculars if I lost them.

What of the trap, I wonder?

I peer through the binoculars and, with a light heart, find a group of them milling around the trap, engaged in friendly conversation.

I massage the corners of my eyes with my fingers once to confirm that I'm not imagining it.

I look through the binoculars once more.

There's no mistake. They are definitely there.

All of them are busy digging into the konpeito in their hands.

"Well, that was pretty easy."

Things have gone too smoothly, and I'm left wondering what to do next.

I want to say hi to them, but won't they all run away if they see me get up just like that?

How shall I call out to them?

I can't let go of this opportunity. I'm a mediator, and I can't do my job without staying in touch with them. I have set up that trap, made myself some lunch, and have been camping out in the wild for this, but I have completely forgotten about the problem of how to make first contact.

I reaffirm my priorities. Let's figure out how many of them are present in the crowd first.

.................

I've finished counting. There are about seventy-one of them.

Immediately after, I see another one aimlessly walking around, under the candy's spell. That makes seventy-two.

They all look similar.

Very short, clothed in thick overcoats fastened with a single human-sized button.

Big heads, wearing tricorns.

Tiny gloves and boots.

The attire resembles the clothing of a distant country.

Though they look mostly the same, they all wear different shades.

Red, blue, green, yellow, orange, purple, and viridian.

Their accessories are variegated.

A curly diadem, a pen cap, an origami samurai helmet, a broken eggshell... Each of them wears something of their own, somewhat proudly.

Every one of them gives off the impression a naughty child would.

Their height is ten centimeters on average.

What are they, you ask?

Why~

These tiny creatures~

They are the new "mankind" who rule this earth nowadays.

It isn't known exactly when the fairies were first sighted.

They are reported to have been sighted many times by the middle of the twenty-first century, but unfortunately, all other information on them has vanished into the cyber-realm due to the decline of the electronic information networks of old.

But then again, nothing of much value was lost. Most of the news to be found in that digital age was unreliable. There were attempts to salvage information at one point, but it was so fruitless that it is a field in which barely anyone takes any interest nowadays. It's all lies in the end. And don't get me started on news-speak.

More important are the records of the time before the digital age. Those are of the most importance.

There had always been hints of the fairies' existence in old art and folktales, after all.

Ahh, the magnificence of print media. The humor is understandable, it's sincere, it's sensible, it isn't over-the-top, it is intellectual above all else, what more is there to say, now if only paper could last forever without deteriorating... These are the words of perhaps mankind's last scholar, my friend Y.

In any case, the fairies have gradually made their presence known, and many events have transpired, to the point where there are no records left of their origin; we only know that fairies exist.

And now, we humans have relinquished the seat of earth's dominant civilization and have surrendered that position to them, the fairies.

The United Nations Mediation Council was put in place to smooth out any friction between us retiring humans and the increasingly dominant fairy folk. In due course, the word mankind has now come to refer to the fairies.

I think it's safe to refer to ourselves as the "old mankind" or just "humans". Maybe even "Homo Sapiens".

Fairies are effectively disparate to us in terms of biological classification (We have not yet established if they are even living things), so the nomenclature we use for them needs to be unambiguous.

Specifically, the meaning of the word "mankind" alone has been shifted into its own special place, that of referring to the fairies. If one is cognizant of that fact, things become straightforward.

Meanwhile, over the past few centuries, humans as a species have steadily declined, and our population could sink to zero at any point now.

Most of our scientific knowledge is now lost.

Cities sit abandoned, and spheres of human life continue to shrink.

The world is now the fairies'.

They can thrive in even the most desolate environments. We haven't ever managed to figure out how they do that, though. Both sides can comprehend each other, but actual dialogue is rare. Perhaps something happened in the distant past which created this rift between us. At this point, we have no way to tell what that could have been.

As a mediator, I needed to form an intimate relationship with them.

We mediators act as liaisons between humans and fairies to solve problems between our races.

There is a need to establish close, regular dialogue with the local residents as well.

Such advanced preparation will ensure that your work will go smoothly in the future. That's the essence of a cool beauty, to accomplish her work skillfully and elegantly.

Maximum effect with the least hassle. The results will stand as a testament to one's competency, as something to be proud of. It's one of those things people do, you know?

No matter what, I have to build a close friendship with these creatures that come straight out of a fairy tale.

Feeling for the right moment, I trot closer in a crouch.

I'm suddenly struck with a bout of self-consciousness.

My anxiety reduces me to a quivering bundle of nerves.

There's this indescribable, weird feeling like the loss of control you feel when you try to suddenly get up from a sitting position. Yup, I'm falling over.

My, my, the ground is rushing up towards me, ufufu. My dear body, I leave myself in your hands, as usual. Really, time and time again, I freeze up when it is my turn to make a move. The ground is still rapidly closing in.

Impact.

I hit the ground with force befitting my wastefully tall stature.

"Owwww..."

I have to weather the falls so that I can quickly lose my naivete and become a proper lady.

That aside, the fairies. I look up while holding my nose. Sure enough, they're all staring at me, with eyes wide as dinner plates.

"Ahh, hey, uh..."

The words just refuse to come out right.

Haste only invites bad judgment.

I stand back up as if nothing happened.

To the fairies, who are only 10 centimeters tall, my head, which is at a height that has long exceeded the usual limit for a girl, must look like some kind of tsunami approaching them.

They cry out in unison: "EEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeek!"

I am assaulted by a chorus of shrieks that could shatter glass.

Is this what they mean by the expression, "to scatter like baby spiders"? They proceed to run away in every direction.

Ah, they are truly fleet of foot.

As they cannot fly, fairies are considered closer to the Korpokkur than "fairies" as categorized in European folk tales. They do exhibit the characteristic agility, though, handily outrunning any human.

"Excuse me! Hey! Wait! Please!"

Even as I call out, I know. They will not wait. This is how it always is.

I don't think I would wait if I were in their position, after all.

"..."

I let my outstretched hand fall. It feels like I've aged a decade in a moment.

"Wow, with a start like this, I can tell it's only going to get harder from here on out... I guess I'll have to change locations and redo the trap...Well now."

I see them trying to hide.

Three of them.

I can feel myself giving in to temptation.

My eyes shine. With a violent passion.

---

In no time, there are three fairies atop the desk in my room.

They're all sitting in seiza for some reason.

They're also quivering in fear.

It's not like there's no reason for it, though.

The moment I saw them, I clapped the mouth of the can shut with my palm and scampered home with the can in my hands.

Yes, I allowed my desires to overtake me. Or perhaps I should say I committed a flawless kidnapping?

Is this going to become the flash point of a serious interspecies conflict?

As a rule, the mediation council's representatives have a policy of non-interference when it comes to the lives of the fairies.

I need to cover up any evidence of this... wait, no, I need to reach an appropriate settlement with them.

"Um, Mr. Fairy?"

All three start shivering as if they've been served a death sentence when they hear this.

They're completely dominated by fear. How pitiful.

Well, I'm the cause of their fear in the end.

In any case, what am I to do now?

I can't keep them under house arrest forever.

"I'm sorry, I didn't intend for this situation, but things ended up like this all the same."

Three pairs of eyes look up at me, brimming with tears.

Ahh! What tender and sweet eyes they have!

It is as if a switch has been thrown within me.

"Uhmm, would you like to have something to eat?" - I begin, aiming to soften the atmosphere with a witty joke - "or shall I gobble you three up?"

"...Ulp?!"

The three fairies proceed as one to wet themselves in fear.

"Sorry. I regretted my indiscretion the moment the words left my mouth... I'm very sorry. Come on; I already said I'm sorry. I definitely won't eat you. Please listen to me!"

I try to soothe the three, who are now curled up on the table in despair.

By the way, the fairies excrete practically pure water.

That said, I wouldn't go so far as to attempt drinking it.

Going back to the drawing board, I switch approaches and attempt to coax them out of their shells with food.

The fairies are extremely fond of candy, after all.

I should have done this from the start.

"It's only leftovers, but would you like to have some?"

I proffer a piece of candy to them on my finger.

After the three glance at each other with faces on the verge of tears, a representative gets up and approaches my finger.

The fairy stops about twenty centimeters short, surveys the scene, and, having decided there is no hostility, accepts the offering.

Mission accomplished.

This piece I have just offered is only a morsel, but I hope it can become a significant morsel for both the old and the new "humanities".

"Please, try it."

The fairy eats, frightfully.

At first, it spends most of its faculties on vigilantly observing me, and cares little about the taste. However, as its flavor gauge gradually fills, the fairy grows more engrossed in the food.

By the time the representative finishes its first morsel, it has lost its wariness and looks to be more at ease.

"You fairies are really easy to feed, aren't you?"

Seeing these events unfold, the other two fairies start whispering amongst themselves. I roll two pieces of candy over to them as well.

They wolf the candy down in no time.

The three fairies are now restless and look at me expectantly.

They have a rather greedy gleam in their eyes.

The significance of this is not lost on me.

"Fine, then."

I shall set out a wonderful feast today.

I invert the candy jar on the tabletop, letting its contents spill everywhere.

"Come, eat as much as you'd like."

The three fairies grin ear to ear and dive into the mountain of candy.

And so, a frenzied feast begins.

---

Ten minutes later:

Kyai-kyai♪

They are now happily frolicking around, enjoying themselves with childlike innocence.

They like to play when they're full.

They amuse themselves with simple acts such as jumping into empty jars, crowding inside the jars, then jumping out. Very much like a bunch of kittens.

I silently sit on a stool and begin sketching their antics.

All the candy is gone before I have a chance to even try some of it myself. Well, since it all went towards bribing them, I'd say it is a low price to pay.

"I've really splurged on my inaugural bribe..."

Such are the actions of a competent mediator.

In any case, sketching the four fairies romping about is quite difficult, if only there had been just three of them-

...

"... They've multiplied, haven't they?"

The fairies stop what they're doing and stare at me.

One, two, three, and four. That's definitely four fairies.

I did only bring three with me, though...

As I sit there with a furrowed brow, one of the fairies walks up to me.

"Excuse me..." the fairy trills with a voice like a reed-pipe: "Are you god, Human? Are you?"

"...God?"

"God."

I don't recall ever achieving godhood, though.

Are we, the people of old humanity, seen as gods by the fairies?

"I am not god, you know?"

The four fairies gather in a circle when they hear this and start discussing the matter. Then, one of them breaks away and walks up to me:

"But, why are you so.... so big?"

"I suppose I do tower over you fairies... But no, I am not a god."

"But, Ms. Human, you are... Ms. Human, you're..." - The fairy appears to be tongue-tied. It looks quite irritated that it can't find the right words.

A sigh wells up within me - "Ahhhh!" How awfully cute these denizens of micro-mankind are!

"I think it will make things simpler if you see things this way: you fairies, the fairies who exist now, are the new humanity." Then, pointing to myself, I say, "And we humans are the old humanity."

"Old humanity..."

"We've retired from being the rulers of this planet. Big time. We used to do chic things like wage wars and stuff in the old times, but it's all really calm nowadays."

They huddle up into a circle again and resume their discussion. I ignore all that and address them anyway.

"I just want you all to know that you don't need to be afraid of me."

whisper-whisper-whisper

"What's the matter? Didn't I make myself clear?"

whisper-whisper-whisper-whisper-whisper-whisper

"Um... Excuse me..."

?

"Ms. Human!"

Their circle comes undone, and one fairy walks up and raises its hand.

"What is it?"

The representative silently extends a finger on its raised hand. Then, holding that pose, it scrunches its eyes shut.

It feels like the fairy is waiting for something to happen.

"Hmm?"

I have no idea what's going on right now.

Taking a shot in the dark, I decide to meet the fairy in the middle and stretch my finger out to touch the offered finger.

I recall seeing such a scene in an old movie.

I glance at the other fairies, wondering what they think of this; they are heaving great sighs of wonder and admiration.

"Waahhhhh!" "Oooohhhh!" "Mhmmmmm!" "Ahhhh!"

Is this their equivalent of a handshake? Not that I disapprove of it.

"Well, now that we've had our introductions, I suppose you wish to return to the trash mountain? From where you were so rudely abducted?"

"Trash mountain?"

"The place where I caught you all."

"The trash mountain; are we going back there?"

"Yes. Isn't it your home?"

The four fairies all tilt their heads at the same time, at the same angle. And with that same synchronization, they give me their reply:

"Chiiii...?"

"Do you not recall where you were born?"

"Boo...rn?"

The fairies form a circle again, some weird impulse having taken them over once more.

"Ms. Human, I have another question for you."

"Puh-please, ask away."

"When, when was I born?"

"I do not know."

"You don't?!"

May I know why you asked me that?"

"Chiii..?"

Looks like this isn't the best direction for this investigation.

"That aside, could everyone tell me their names?"

"........."

I am subjected to the silent treatment once more. Four blank stares drill into me.

"Your names, you know, the things you call yourselves by. I'd be thrilled if you could introduce yourselves to me."

"Na...mes....?" "'Nombre', or 'namae'!" "All those words mean 'name'!"

"Is a nickname good enough?"

"Of course!" I reply.

"..."

The representative ponders this for a while, then says, "We never thought up any." "I know, right?"

They seem more comfortable speaking with me now.

"That's right, we have no names."

"Isn't it inconvenient?"

"mmmaybe."

"How would you usually call out to your friends?"

The four fairies digest the question, slack-jawed. They then perk up, having settled on an answer.

"...With nuance."

"Is that so..."

Hooray for world peace.

"But, you know, it's pretty inconvenient to call out to you when none of you have names."

"Is it hard?" "Sorry about that." "Want to sleep?" "Would you like to eat us?"

"I wouldn't eat you."

"Aw, what?" "Is this what a close shave is?" "So I didn't need to steel my resolve for this?" "Are we going to be integrated into Ms. Human's family?"

"How many times do I need to tell you I won't eat you?"

Seeing the fairies form a circle again, a thought occurs to me.

Now that I've gained their confidence, I need a way to identify them. I decide to use a system similar to how they tag wild animals.

However, my decision to use any method can't be unilateral because they are as intelligent as us (or perhaps even more so). I can't treat them as test subjects, to be identified by only a name-tag.

There is, thus, only one reasonable approach I can take here.

"Everyone, may I have your attention?" I declare a muster. "I wish to be friends with all of you. To that end, please allow me to name you all."

This causes the fairies to lose their composure.

"Are you for real?" "No way!" "Have we become winners?" "Kuh, just eat us!"

"All right, fine, I'll eat the lot of you."

"Eek?"

One of the fairies wets itself, and the other three duly follow its example as is characteristic of their race.

Are they part of some kind of hive mind?

"That was a lie."

"It was a lie!" "A lie it was!" "Ms. Human has us wrapped around her finger!"

"You fairies are so cute."

I decide to get on with naming them.

Although fairies are mostly identical in appearance, there are still some subtle differences to be seen among them.

"All right now: let's start with you."

I point at one of them.

"Please."

"Uhmm, you feel a bit like the leader to me, so your name shall be Cap."

"Cap!"

"You'll need to be super careful when you pick your next hat, won't you?"

"What an exciting proposition!"

"Now, you."

Fairy No. 2 is next.

"Yes."

"You give me a bit of a Japanese feeling, so you'll be Nakata-san."

"I see, it's finally my turn..."

"You must fight your daily battles in a suit, with a camera in hand, and your glasses on."

"That's anything but simple to do."

"Now, fairy No. 3 -"

Fairy No. 3 cuts in with a raised hand.

"Ms. Human, a suggestion."

Oho?

"Whatever could it be?"

"I want to choose my name myself."

"Oh, so you can name yourselves as well?"

The fairy nods like crazy.

"Of course, you may! What would you like to name yourself?"

"Sir Christopher McFarlane."

"Wow, you even knighted yourself..."

"It suits me, it suits me!"

It suits you, does it? Does it really?

"I can't?"

"No, I don't mind at all. It's a wonderful name."

"I shall do my bestest!"

"Wh-what about me? When's my turn?"

Fairy No. 4 is impatiently waiting with both hands raised.

"Then, you, my good sir, shall be..."

"What if I chose my own name?"

"You too, eh? Sure. What kind of name will you pick?"

"Fish-roll."

"You really want to get eaten, huh?"

"You're wrong, though?"

"But it does seem so to an extent..."

"In that case..."

Mr. Fish-roll (temporary name) glances at Sir McFarlane.

"Sir Fish-roll."

"Food can't be inducted into the aristocracy, you know."

"Say what?!"

Or maybe it can...

But I don't want to bring up sirloin now as that would just complicate things further, so I leave it at that.

And so, I've grown closer to these four fairies.

If I turn these four into my point of contact for the rest of their kind, I'm sure the costs of staying in touch will reduce.

Dare I say the beginning of my career as a mediator has been a pleasant one?

"Now, shall I return you four to the mountain?"

"Yes!" "Wes!" "Mes!" "Let's go home!"

"Now, what are you so flustered about all of a sudden?" asks Grandfather.

The evening, in my house, at the dining table.

I am in Grandfather's library. With a dictionary of famous personalities in one hand and a pen zooming over my sketchbook in the other, I reply to him.

"I gave the four fairies I met names, and we got along well, but..."

"I'm guessing they asked you to name the rest of the gang too, then?"

Grandfather has arrived at this conclusion having taken only a single short glance at the names written on my sketch-book.

"...Yes. They turned out to be a somewhat more friendly race than I had expected."

"They've always liked humans."

"Oh, I learned that first-hand."

"There's a lot of complexity to navigate around regarding that. But you should be able to figure out everything from those documents over there."

He points to the cabinet.

"I do have memories of casual contact with them as a child... But I never interacted with them like this."

"That's because children are the same as fairies. Their memories grow vague as they grow. As if the memories were made of a thin film. And beyond that veil, there lies a hidden world of magic. Quite a fantastic thought, eh?"

"Ahh, but Grandfather... Surely a distinguished professor of School such as yourself wouldn't subscribe to such delusions?"

"What, are you mocking me? The study of the occult may very well give us some answers to life's questions. It's been reinstated as a branch of study many times over the course of history. Besides, there's still the mystery of how fairies came to exist in the first place."

"For a second, I thought you'd gone senile."

"I'll probably outlive you even so."

"Well, I suppose it's good that you're going to live such a long life, but do your living in moderation, please."

"Feels to me like you're asking me to die."

"Ahh, I've finally reached fifty of them!"

Names are surprisingly tricky when you actually start thinking about them.

"Still, you got along with them quite easily; good job."

"I- I see."

I've decided to hold off on the allegations of illegal confinement I have leveled against Grandfather.

"In any case, the fairies have been gathering at that trash hill again, have they?"

"Looks to be so. I'm going to reconnoiter the place once more tomorrow."

"Mmmhmm. Just make sure you've prepared yourself."

My pen stops.

"... What do you mean by that?"

"There's surprisingly little we know about the fairies."

Grandfather's words have a sincere weight, as may be seen in the words of a philosopher.

"Where are they born, how do they lead their lives... It's mostly up in the air. To touch only on what is known - they are legion, with advanced intellects and technological prowess to match, needing no food to survive, and they share no similarity with any other existing species out there."

This sends me on a trip down memory lane to the time I had learned about fairies in my neo-anthropology course at school.

Neo-anthropology is the fairy version of anthropology. Put simply, a neo-anthropologist studies fairies.

The fairies certainly have many secrets.

One has to wonder, have none of them been uncovered?

They say the answer to that question is still a resounding NO.

But we must have figured out something about them with how long they've been around, right?

Back when we old humans still ruled the world, back when science and wisdom permeated the cities, the schools, the books, and the internet, at the peak of the old human civilization, it was probably impossible to uncover these secrets.

Much knowledge has been lost in the time since.

Old humanity has suffered from information blackouts many times throughout history.

For example, we don't actually know why old humanity has resigned itself to its inevitable demise. We only know that the decision to do so was taken sometime in the distant past.

Maybe that information still exists, hidden away somewhere.

Unfortunately, we no longer have the passion to seek out that information, to examine it, and to make it known.

How do the fairies reproduce?

Why do they need no sustenance?

How come they can understand and converse in human languages?

How are they so technically advanced?

The truth of all these matters has been lost to the ravages of time, and we cannot expect the fairies -- who have never been in the habit of keeping records -- to remember the details.

We can only live on.

As if to say, "That'll do."

Grandfather's account soon begins to wax technical.

"... And, with regard to that point, there are some who believe that the fairies are, put simply, entities of the magical sort. Such theories are, at best, wilful fantasies, of course."

"It sounds to me like you're a little jaded about the whole thing."

"There's no helping it. Faced with an intelligent life form that could multiply through division, nobody could figure out how to scientifically investigate the phenomenon."

"Splitting..." - I understand completely.

"And there are even some who believe the fairies have no need for food."

"But they ate the konpeito I made, you know?"

"The fact that they do partake in social activities such as farming and hunting, albeit as recreation, is yet to be confirmed. In legends, the fairies were said to exist on only the essence of matter itself."

"The essence of matter..."

"That theory makes sense. Maybe we should consider the fairies as being a stage in the reproductive cycle? Sort of like how adult mayflies do not eat once they come out of their cocoons."

"Ah, I see what you're getting at."

"It may explain their vast intelligence and vitality if they require no special effort to survive. It is the same for reproduction; they have effectively been freed of their limitations as living organisms. No matter how long we humans have been around as a civilization, we are unable match the fairies because they cannot even be classified as living organisms.

Perhaps, due to the difference in the allocation of resources, that is to say, the differences in the possibilities afforded, the alternation of generations of today is prevalent."

"I see you've given this a lot of thought."

"This is not just idle thought. It's something more profound than that."

In terms of knowledge, I can't beat Grandfather.

As an educated person, I can't help but feel a little jealous, but I just shrug it off and get back to working on my list of names.

"You've got some pretty thick eyebrows though, huh?"

My pen's nib pierces the sketchbook.

"I'm not going to do your last rites."

"Even though I'll probably outlive you anyway?"

Grandfather is about to go back into the kitchen, when he turns his head and addresses me.

"Ah right, I forgot to tell you something."

"Yes?"

"fairies behave very differently when they are encountered individually versus when they are encountered as a group. When they gather together, they become a giant melting pot of cultural and scientific advancement. And all those ideas sublimate together at a moment's notice. New forms of culture propagate themselves in an instant. With an uncontrollable ferocity."

I stop writing and look up at Grandfather. He continues.

"Simply put, interesting things happen when fairies gather in large numbers. They can mobilize more intelligence, resourcefulness, efficiency, and passion than any group of humans ever could."

"Could you be more clear about what could happen?"

"No idea. Anything could happen. I have no idea what's trending amongst their kind these days. But seeing as you're a part of the mediation council now, how about you go take a look for yourself?"

"Grandfather, aren't you being a tad too irresponsible with your guidance, seeing as you're my predecessor?"

Grandfather ignores my complaints and proceeds to make a declaration.

"Oh, that's right. If you're planning to go there, take that dictionary with you."

"But it's so heavy..."

"You'll be well served if you did, I think."

Grandfather laughs with a knowing look on his face.

"I... see?"

The next day. I'm visiting the trash mountain again.

"...Huh?"

The trash mountain has ceased to exist.

A metropolis rises in front of my eyes.

And it's in a futuristic sci-fi style as well.

Well, there's also the fact that it's been scaled down to fairy size.

It's a miniature city, so it is only right that it has the dimensions to match.

The towering trash heap that used to be here has been replaced by a skyscraper with an identical shape to it.

All the high-rise buildings are built with a retrofuturistic design.

Numerous transparent tubes connect the buildings, and I can see futuristic cars whizzing by within them.

A large crowd of fairies is busily milling about on the streets and pavements below me.

At the center of the city is a towering building that is likely the city hall, and on top of that hall is some kinpira.

The handmade flag I used when setting my sugar trap is now fluttering proudly on top.

Grandfather was right.

The fairies do some amazing things when there are enough of them around.

"They've taken this way too far..."

It is said that with enough advancement, science could be confused for magic, but I've realized that such advancements may also become indistinguishable from jokes.

When you approach a miniature city like this, you must understand that from the perspective of its inhabitants, your footsteps would echo mightily, and you would tower over everything else like some kind of giant sea monster.

The fairies are made aware of my presence instantly.

An air raid siren is sounded and reverberates through the city.

"Oh my."

The movements of the fairies within the city are cast into disarray.

I'm not sure if they're frightened or just confused, though.

I advance until I reach a prim-looking plaza, where I stop.

"Now then..."

A biplane flies about 50 centimeters above my head.

For some reason, the biplane's silhouette doesn't resemble a real one as much as a toy. It is splattered messily with an infantile-looking mix of primary colors.

It isn't exactly trying to attack me, though. Instead, the biplane only single-mindedly spins circles around me.

As if it were the director of the mass panic in the ground below.

Crowds of fairies have begun to form a wide circle around me while I continue to stand stock-still.

They seem to be somewhat frightened of me, and none come close.

As a result, a circle of emptiness surrounds me, and a peculiar tension seems to flow through this supposedly empty space.

They may be tiny, but having this many eyes on me is wearing on my nerves a bit.

I know that the fairies are a terribly forgetful sort.

For example, they know their status as the rulers of all things.

Even so, they choose to hide from the public eye; they do not change their lifestyles. When, on occasion, they come into contact with a human, they are fearful and servile and even become attached to the human in a way similar to the relationship between a servant and their master.

"Excuse me... Good day."

chatter-chatter-chatter.

There is a response, but it is not in clearly intelligible language.

"Uhmmm, are the four fairies I brought back yesterday not here right now?"

I get a larger response this time, but we have yet to establish a dialogue.

chatter-chatter-chatter-chatter.

I haven't managed to shake off the awkward atmosphere at all. I suppose I will have to know them all individually to get along with them as a group.

"Umm..."

Just as I say this -

One face of the building to my left opens up from the center with a sliding motion.

A robot stands within the interior of the building.

???

The robot looks like something out of a children's anime.

It seems to have assumed a fighting pose, so I suppose it is one of the city's defense mechanisms?

And so, I stand here, caught in a confrontation.

Now that I take a closer look, I can see a single fairy within the semitransparent dome on top of the robot's head. The pilot?

I hear a crackly voice saying "Zeyahhh!" at me from a loudspeaker mounted on the robot.

... I am dumbstruck and cannot formulate a proper response.

The fairy tries again, with a slight nervousness in its intonation, likely intimidated by my lack of reply.

"Zeya?"

"May I ask you something?"

"....ru...?"

What curious creatures fairies are.

"By the way, how do you like our city?"

The pilot suddenly decides to address me with a friendly attitude.

"It is quite a splendid city."

"We were all together, so we thought we'd do something." So, that resulted in this city being built.

"But yeah, if I were to say one thing, it's that this place developed in a jiffy."

"...Huh?"

"It's right on the heels of yesterday too... You could have taken your time with it... you know."

"Ah...."

The fairy inside the cockpit is drooping its head as if it is nodding off.

"Ah no, that's not to say the city is bad as it is; it's excellent. But I thought it would have been nicer to have a more typical residential type structure instead of this make-believe city you have going on."

...

Ah, it's sad now.

"Buh- by the way, that enemy robot you made is superb."

The fairy's face snaps up, lit with joy.

"It moves with everyone's sincerity at heart."

"But, can this thing actually fight?"

"...Are you an enemy? It'll be a bit troublesome if you are..."

"Oh no, not at all."

"In that case, there's no issue."

A propeller rises out of the top of the cockpit.

As the rotor spins up, only the passenger section is detached from the head and slowly rises.

It turns out that the cockpit can become an independently operable helicopter.

"C-can it actually fly?"

"I'm confident that it can!"

The fairy gives me a less-than-picturesque reply and fwooshes off.

"So long, and goodbye!"

"Goodbye..."

With the helicopter having taken off, the building now closes.

It is as if there never was a door there.

"...Uhmmm..."

As I stand there, troubled, the crowd parts, and from within walks out a single fairy.

"Oh, if it isn't Nakata-san?"

It's the fairy of Japanese descent (?) who I had named yesterday.

I don't know where the inspiration came from, but Nakata-san stands before me in a grey suit with a camera hanging from the neck, wearing glasses

"Hello. How are the other three of you doing?"

"I shall leave that for you to find out."

"...What?"

"chiiii....?"

What an unruly bunch they are.

Seeing the conversation between Mr. Nakata and myself has excited the crowd.

"He's talking to the human?" "And they're talking to each other freely?" "They're taking a lot?" "Ahh, they seem so far away, so far..." "Who gives a shit."

"Ah, right; I wanted to talk about that naming matter."

Mr. Nakata tilts his head.

"What do you mean by naming?"

"So you forgot, huh?"

I even went to the trouble of listing out seventy-five names for the fairies here.

"Hey, now, you were the one who asked me to give everyone else names when I was dropping you off yesterday, weren't you?"

"I spent a long time thinking of names to give your companions, but do you not remember?"

"Maybe I do, or maybe I don't remember."

"There definitely was such a memory."

"Maybe I don't, or maybe I do remember."

"I'm telling you, it definitely happened."

"I may remember; I just might."

"You all ought to remember to keep memos of things."

"It's like there's this shimmering veil between me and the memory."

I wish you would not allow that veil to shimmer.

"I understand. I'll stop here. Anyhow, I'll be giving everyone names, so if you could all stand in a line here..."

I realize it at this point.

Scanning the crowd reveals that both the plaza and its connected streets are now packed. No matter how I look at it, there are several thousands of fairies here.

"Oh?"

They're multiplying.

I only have seventy-five names on the list I made.

"Ahh, so fairies from all over the region have gathered here..."

"Mix it up" "What are we doing?" "Playing make-believe city" "There's a human!" "What's happening?" "Is something starting?" "Names!" "Names?"

And even now, they continue to multiply gradually.

"Hey, stop! Please don't line up! Stop, Stop!"

I can't handle this many fairies on my own.

I try to disperse the line by waving my hands about, but it is already too late.

The long, long line has already extended far beyond its starting point at the plaza.

There are already fairies wearing armbands that say "staff" standing here and there, guiding the line, distributing numbered tickets, making other fairies sit or stand, and doing other such splendid line management tasks.

"Oh my, oh my, oh my..."

This is weird. Something somewhere is not right.

What started as a minor attempt to establish contact with konpeito in a jar has turned into a situation of unthinkable proportions at an incredible rate.

I break into a sweat unlike any other, feeling like my stomach is churning, as a person who has just inconvenienced many people may. Ahh, I really shouldn't make rash promises like this...

If I were to escape now, I would lose my chance to build an amicable relationship with the fairies forever.

They may just end up forgetting about it, but choosing to betray the thousands of fairies here, even temporarily, would take an unimaginable amount of courage.

A jar of konpeito. One handful of laziness. One handful of ambition.

Spending only such a trifle, I have managed to bring forth an extraordinarily energetic wave of technological accomplishments.

I wonder how things would look after a day...

What if this wave spreads, profoundly impacting fairy society worldwide?

Not a very savory prospect.

While exuding sweat so greasy one could use it as a lubricant, I will my faculties of reason back from the flower fields (rumored to be very cozy) within my brain.

"This has never happened before..." "A name, huh..." "We'll get names?" "Come to think of it, having a name sounds really nice indeed." "Very convenient." "I wonder why we never had names until now." "Beats me..." "It's an unknown, isn't it?"

"Oi, Nakata, how much longer?"

"No idea."

The fairies are starting to agitate.

Mr. Nakata climbs onto my shoulder and addresses me.

"A name, Will you give one to everybody?"

After a long pause, I decide on one thing.

"Will you give us names?"

"Why yes, I will, that's the plan..."

I pray for forgiveness in my head. I may not have prayed enough though, so I hope you'll take installments if you're real, God.

I beckon to a staff fairy and ask it to push the line towards the plaza, not away from it.

"Hyup!"

The fairy obliges cheerfully.

Though they are usually an unruly bunch, they seem to be able to coordinate flawlessly when they put their minds to it.

In hardly three minutes, the fairies have arranged themselves into a spiral, and all of them are now crammed within the plaza.

All the fairies are now within my reach.

Now's my chance. The only one I'll get. If I want to pull my plan off flawlessly, this is it.

Indeed, even though the fairies are shrouded in mystery, I do know a few things about them.

I, in particular, had a certain thirst for knowledge. School had many more books than I could hope to read and even more meddlesome professors than students.

Poor at human relations as I was, I spent all my time hunting for more knowledge while all my professors had a morbid need to "teach me things".

Within this head of mine is a decade's worth of useless and miscellaneous knowledge, towering in its majesty.

As an example of a tidbit, fairies tend to fear loud noises.

With a wide, sweeping motion, I clap my hands together with vigor.

CLAP

The plaza turns absolutely silent.

All the fairies who were making noise have disappeared completely.

Have they escaped? No, they have not. They have not moved even a step. However, where there used to be a spiral line, there are now thousands of colorful balls rolling about.

It is all terribly surreal.

A grey ball rolls off my shoulder as well.

This phenomenon, known as "balling up" is one of the faerie's many peculiarities.

Fairies defend themselves by turning into balls when startled. And they don't just crouch and put their arms around their legs; they literally turn into spheres.

I'm not sure if they can properly defend themselves from dangerous creatures like this, but at least the present crisis is averted.

"I'm sorry, everyone. I can't keep my promise."

This is my chance to escape.

I pick up my bag. How profoundly heavy it is.

Wait, why is it heavy again?

Of course. I followed Grandfather's advice and brought along the biographical dictionary. That bizarrely thick tome that looked like a multi-tier lunch box, that thing fit to be a blunt trauma weapon.

I now begin to realize what Grandfather intended.

I pull the dictionary out with trembling hands. Lifted high into the sky, the dictionary seems to shine with a divine radiance.

The fairies have begun to unfurl from their balled-up state and are now absently sitting around the plaza. Some fairies are fast asleep, while some are yawning and rubbing their eyes.

They probably don't remember any of the fuss they made about the naming.

Mr. Nakata is walking around unsteadily.

"What is that?"

"It's a present."

"Oh?"

I see my figure holding the dictionary clearly reflected in Mr. Nakata's deep black eyes.

"You shall all choose names that please you from this biographical dictionary."

I solemnly inform the fairies who have gathered after emerging from their ball states of what is happening and set the dictionary down.

Sighs rise all around.

The fairies look towards me, eyes moist with pure emotion. Their expressions convey an almost religious fervor.

"Ms. Human, you really are a Goddess," Mr. Nakata murmurs with a quivering tone.

---

"So, how did it go?"

Grandfather asks me this as he leans over the dining table.

"I gave them the dictionary as a present, but..."

Grandfather seems to have expected this, and just nods his head with a soft "Is that so". He does not seem particularly disappointed.

"They had urbanized spectacularly, you know. Overnight, too."

"It's a kind of synergism brought forth by their multiplying numbers. As they multiply, the fun factor goes up, prompting them to multiply further. This cycle continues, faster and faster, until it snowballs."

I play with the potatoes floating in my soup bowl, leaving them uneaten.

"Don't like today's soup?"

"No, I'm just thinking about something."

"Well? Out with it."

"It's just something that's turning over in my head; I'm not sure how to describe it."

Just what is this weird anxiety, I wonder.

When I visit the metropolis again, I end up finding the source of my anxiety.

It looks the same as yesterday, with just one notable difference.

"Wha-!"

I couldn't have missed it if I tried.

The building with the robot inside has disappeared, and in its place stands a statue.

No, not just any statue, but an idol.

Yes, this is an idol of a goddess.

The goddess resembles me an awful lot.

"Hey, now!"

They've turned me into their symbol.

"I don't appreciate this!"

I, the goddess, am holding the dictionary up with both hands.

"Ahh, the Goddess!"

Mr. Nakata appears, and as if on cue, his companions pop up one by one.

"Goddess, Goddess!" "Mornin', Goddess!" "The goddess has come visiting again!" "Yaaay!"

I've been deified.

"Ahh, so that's what was bothering me..."

Fairies get pumped up easily and quickly get emotionally attached.

My casual actions, which were in a sense creative, have resulted in the establishment of the concept of worship in their society.

What if this trend snowballs and takes over the world?

I would reign as a goddess in fairy history.

"Arghhh..."

This is, put simply, a problem.

If this had happened on the scale of the world, it would have become a big problem.

I look down at Mr. Nakata, who is waving his hands at me. On a whim, I reach down and place my fingers on his smooth forehead.

"Hmm?"

"Tag! Now you're God."

"Huh?!"

Mr. Nakata has a very comical, astonished expression on his face.

"Huh? I, I'm God now?"

"That's right! I tagged you, after all."

"Wha!?"

"I am now one who used to be god."

"... Used to be?"

Mr. Nakata's glasses are clouding up.

He staggers, puts his hand on my toe, then looks up at me as if to ask, "How about that?".

"I'm sorry, but a person who has been God already can't become God again. So it's useless to tag me again."

"So it's out of your hands?"

"I can't do anything at all, not a thing. Come now, everyone. If you don't run away soon, you'll become God too!"

The fairies around us shudder.

"What will you do, Nakata-san? If you leave things like this, you'll end up being God, you know."

"I- uh... uhh..." - He looks around at his surroundings and yells - "I don't wanna be God!"

He runs over to his friends.

And so, in an instant, the idea of God has been perverted into something evil.

It's something that has come up in human mythology before, which may be quite interesting to study from an ethnohistorical perspective.

"Woah!" "God is here!" "God is coming!" "Let's run!" "God's moving towards us!" "This is terrible!" "Eeek!"

The fairies are running away, scattered.

"STOOOOOOOOP!"

Mr. Nakata is in hot pursuit.

A contest for giving away godhood has begun, disguised as a game of tag.

"They really are fast runners."

When fairies get serious, they can match even squirrels in a race.

The game of tag (or was it godhood?) is developing with such speed that I cannot follow it with my eyes.

Though they cannot fly, the fairies climb into the miniature buildings, dive into any holes they find, and are capable of complex three-dimensional movement in general, making it very difficult to catch them.

It is strange to see something known as "God" being avoided like this, but humans have done similar things in the past.

No, I'm not about to say everything's fine...

But with this, I can avoid becoming the core of any concept of religion they may have.

"Eek!" "Hyeee!" "Yaargh!" "Godddd!" "Diooos!" "Who's god now?!" "Tag! Tag!" "A hole! Where's the nearest hole?!"

It doesn't take long before all the fairies are gone.

And so, the city-state has reached its end and is dissolved.

At the same time, this means the scope of my duty as a mediator has been reset as well.

"Well... It's better than making a bad name for myself..."

Let me take another look at that idol.

"Ah, here you are."

"G-Grandfather?"

Startled by a sudden impact on my back, I let out a feeble gasp from my throat.

Grandfather is standing behind me with a sly grin on his face.

"I came here to see what was going on... But it looks like they've already left, and you're all alone here."

"They were all still here but a moment ago, just so you know."

Grandfather stands next to me and gives the idol an appraising gaze.

"It sort of resembles something out of the story of the ten commandments."

"From the bible?"

"Yup. Is this the scene where Moses breaks the tablet? Or is it the one where God gives it to him?"

"It's become something steeped in religion, huh?"

"They've grown quite attached to you, haven't they?"

I spread my hands out and reply sardonically - "But everyone's gone now."

"No, something like this would have happened no matter what you did."

"...Huh?"

"They have a nature of gathering and dispersing. When they gather, they can accomplish feats like this city overnight, but they quickly get bored and disperse."

"Even when they've created all this?"

"They would consider this a mere trifle. Even something like this."

Grandfather chuckles.

"It's just how the new humanity rolls."

"It's fun, though, isn't it."

"Maybe it's because you're a person who can only do things that are neither great nor terrible. But indeed, you, my granddaughter, have returned as an interesting person in your own way. I thought you'd fail, but I'm re-evaluating my opinion of you."

So it is possible for a compliment to be unpleasant.

"First off, I told you to be prepared."

"You did mention..."

"I mean, you need to be able to loosen up to deal with fairies."

I get another slap on the back, totter forward, then fall over the idol.

It slowly tips over and shatters quite easily.

Grandfather guffaws again when he sees this.

What is this old guy so happy about?

It felt like my knees were going to give out.

Ahh, if this is how it's going to be...

"I should have just reigned as a goddess to the end."

And so, my first assignment as a mediator draws to a close.

Fairy Memo: Aggregation and Dispersion

Fairies usually live in a dispersed state, but whenever there's enough of them around at one location, their population just explodes! But they also tend to scatter in an instant. This phenomenon is known as the fairy aggregation and dispersion property.

Chapter 2 - Dawn of the Fairies

Several centuries have already passed since the beginning of humanity's decline.

"fairies" have now taken over the world.

An average height of 10 centimeters.

About three heads tall.

Highly intelligent.

Naive personalities.

They're also prone to wetting themselves.

They have peculiar tastes.

They are incredibly nimble.

And they have assumed the title of 'mankind' nowadays.

Meanwhile, we ordinary humans are referred to as 'old mankind'.

We don't have an accurate count of the fairies' population, but it could easily be upwards of about ten to twenty billion individuals.

But this count was made back when neo-anthropology (the study of fairies as a species) was still a young field, so it's probably a bigger number now.

On the other hand, old humanity's population has already sunk below a hundred million. It won't be long before we disappear altogether.

Countries lie in shambles, and civilization has regressed to how it was in the distant past.

The details of the fairies' ecology, provenance, and culture are still wrapped in mystery.

We can see glimpses of their origins through accounts related via various legends, as well as folktales and fairy tales from the era when we still ruled the earth.

But the impetus for their populating the earth is still a mystery.

Of course, the fairies themselves are unaware of it all.

There are no records left of their origin.

They can pen incredible works if they put their minds to it, but they don't ever think of leaving behind any records of themselves.

The fairies do nothing but live indolently on this earth.

As for me? I live as a member of the United Nations Mediation Council in the village of Camphorwood.

A mediator is an international government worker.

As part of their duties under the UNMC, they worked to mediate any differences between humans and fairies when any trouble occurred.

Yes, in past tense.

Nowadays, conflicts that would require mediation between our races hardly occur.

We humans have already let go of our hot-blooded emotions.

With the dwindling human population, we have free reign over vast areas, and people now live in relative seclusion.

Scritch-scratch-scritch-scratch.

For the past few days, the office has been filled with the scratch of a mimeography stylus cutting through a stencil.

After the incident that happened a short while ago, all my time has been spent on writing up a report.

I call it a report, but it isn't something so formal. It is just a diary of sorts, compiled from materials left behind in the office. Doing this doesn't really feel like work.

The manuscript didn't take me long to finish, so I'm taking my time with the illustrations.

I've already printed out copies for reading and archival, and I'm running out of things to do.

"Grandfather, give me another task!" I press my boss, who, unusually, is dozing off at his office desk.

"Mhyeah, there's nothing."

"Surely there's something to be done!"

"And yet, there is nothing."

"I did hear it was a leisurely position, but even so..."

"Then would you be so kind as to clean the place up a bit?"

"I did that yesterday."

I did the cleaning the day before as well, by the way.

"Then why did I see some garbage on the ground when I walked in this morning?"

"Please don't subject me to this mother-in-law bit. And please, give me some easy and creative work to do."

"Of all the impudent, childish things to say..."

Grandfather folds his arms, looking troubled.

"Want to do some fieldwork?"

"So you're just giving me total freedom in my actions again?"

"Our office respects the will of its workers."

"That's just leadership without initiative."

"I'd like you to be self-sufficient about that stuff. Now, then, I've got to get this napping business over with."

This job sure isn't for the hot-headed.

"Um, Grandfather, could you tell me what you used to do back when you started out?"

"Well, the circumstances were quite different. There was a lot to do. But our relations with the fairies were more or less the same as they are now, as keeping regular contact with them is nigh impossible."

I sigh as I reminisce about what happened last time.

"That's true..."

Grandfather claps. Looks like he's thought of something.

"Right, can you help me out for a bit?"

"Um, by that- do you mean with work?"

"What else? It's got something to do with an acquaintance, that is to say, my assistant."

"Ahh..."

I remember now.

Grandfather already has an assistant.

That assistant is basically my senior at this job.

"Didn't you say he was a crass, unmannered beast of a male?"

"He's the ideal of an innocent youngster."

"Oh no, I just remembered. I need to go out today. I've got some fairy culture to study."

"Don't you dare run."

"I'm bad with people I don't know."

"You're really difficult to please... Who do you take after?"

"I'm off. I may head straight home today, so please keep something nice out for dinner!"

"What a grandchild. Are you going to subsist entirely on pastries and other sweet things if I kick the bucket and you don't have anyone to cook for you?"

As I ignore his sermon and head for the door, I spy something strange by the garbage bin.

"I wonder what this is..."

I don't remember throwing something like this away.

I pick it up and show it to Grandfather.

"This is the garbage I was talking about. It's pretty large, isn't it? Truly fit to be called garbage. As a matter of fact, isn't it just garbage?"

People who criticise their kin with snide remarks at the drop of a hat really do exist. Be careful, spouses-to-be.

"Is this a paper dummy of some kind?"

"No clue. Looks like it's something a child made that got blown into the office by the wind."

"It's all crumpled up."

"It's been thrown away no matter how you look at it."

"I do believe this thing's been folded from a single sheet of paper. It's actually quite impressive. Ah, it may be constructed with origami, now that I think of it. I wonder how many sheets it takes to make something this complex... Are you listening, Grandfather?"

Grandfather is leaning back, fast asleep.

"Ah, bother..."

Old people can fall asleep in an instant.

I puzzle over the piece of garbage in my hands for a while.

It's hard to see because of the many crushed portions, but it seems to have had a very complex shape.

Folding this kind of thing from paper requires a considerable amount of skill.

Soon, I find a portion with a small hole.

I puff my breath into it as if blowing into a [paper balloon]. In an instant, various parts that were earlier crushed flat swell up, and countless appendages begin to wriggle about.

"Eek, wha!?"

Surprised, I cast the garbage away.

It lands neatly inside the garbage bin. It's some kind of insect, by the way.

An awfully realistic one at that.

I didn't recognise it for what it was while it still looked like a pile of scrap paper.

I can feel the blatant evil flowing out of it.

"I- I certainly investigated and got to the bottom of this thing, didn't I, Grandfather?"

"Snoooooreeeee"

Is he pretending to be asleep?

There's no doubt. He must have made this elaborate origami insect to scare me.

I even let out an earnest scream by accident.

If it were something simple, something small, or something with a shell like a beetle, I could stand it, but certain kinds of grubs, of the more artful variety (possessing multiple, multicolored protrusions) or wriggly worms that live in groups absolutely harrow me.

The origami creation that just assaulted me is definitely the first kind. Spare me the surprise attacks, please. This encounter was insidious and brilliantly calculated, especially since I was even convinced to touch and blow air into it with my very own mouth.

Grandfather is still pretending to sleep. I bet he's chuckling to himself in his head.

I peer into the garbage bin again to check on that vulgar art piece one last time.

"It's way too realistic..."

Proper examination reveals its nature as an arthropod.

It doesn't have the smooth style of a centipede or a millipede.

It's shaped a bit like a traditional Japanese slipper, in a way.

I feel like I've seen this kind of insect somewhere.

"... A pillbug?"

No, it's slightly different.

But if you were to flatten a pillbug, it would probably look exactly like this.

It even has the same ridiculous number of legs.

Whoever crafted this prank spent a lot of time and effort on it.

"Snoooore"

I turn around sharply and shoot him a blank glare, but Grandfather still hasn't stirred.

"I'll be back soon..."

It's been a couple of days since I visited the trash heap. It's quite close, but I still break into a light sweat because of the incline.

The grand city that the fairies had turned the initially bland landscape into is still there but is now shrouded in a deserted atmosphere. There's nobody around, and it's clear to me that they wouldn't want to come back here either.

I think those of the fairy race are, in general, cheerful but are very sensitive to environmental conditions.

It isn't possible to reconstruct a fun environment just by accurately recreating the same initial conditions once more.

Fun manifests itself as the climax of an invisible surge, so to speak. Fairies look solely for such precious droplets of "fun".

Of course, they don't ever tend to settle in the first place.

Even if many of them gather to play, they're never around long enough to foster a sense of community. Maybe this is because they don't need food to live, but the truth of the matter isn't clearly known.

They usually wander around aimlessly, wherever their whims take them. Sometimes, humans encounter individuals or groups of fairies. When I was coming home, I too, saw one of them by chance. They probably search for fun in such a manner.

The trash heap metropolis event was quite influential.

While I used to think it would make my job easier if I encouraged them to form a settlement, I have come to understand that it's not practical to wish for such things. They saw what happened then as nothing but me setting up a single fun event for them to take part in. While I did get a few valuable sketches of the fairies in action, I couldn't create a proper, lasting relationship with them as a mediator between our races.

I walk around the limits of the trash heap surrounding the fairy city, leaving the opposite way from where I entered. I look around, hoping to see if I can't find one last fairy, but no such luck.

"Haaaaaaaaaah"

I sit on the remains of a miniature building on its side to catch my breath. I take some milk candy I made out of my pocket and put one in my mouth.

It's just as Grandfather had pointed out. I'm much better at cooking sweets and pastries than normal food. School didn't have a culinary studies course either. I would always use the sugar syrup and chocolate I got as rations to make sweets.

Ah, but I know enough to boil crayfish (as a gag).

Today's afternoon snack is a milk candy that is readily made with a combination of cream and sugar syrup. The pieces are wrapped cleanly in paper of various patterns.

Enjoying candy while spacing out in the sunlight is a great way to forget annoying things. Annoying things, like linear algebra, for example.

"... I'll have just one more."

I never put on weight, so the amount of sugar I can consume is limitless.

A faint sweetness spreads in the back of my mouth. With a recipe as simple as boiling sugar syrup and cream together, then dusting the result with sugar powder, a sweetness with a deep flavour and an unparalleled longevity on the tongue has been created.

"One more for the road."

My reverie continues.

As I roll my fifth milk sweet on my tongue, I feel someone's eyes on me.

I know that the one behind that gaze is tiny, owing to the faintness of the prickling on the side of my face.

"If I'm not wrong, is that you, Mr. Fishroll?"

"Huh?!"

Such a sound is uttered by the tiny head that is carelessly poking out of the grass.

Mr. Fishroll jerks about in surprise.

"Ah, ah, ah..."

"What are you doing all the way over there?"

I feel like I'm telling him off.

I wonder why I'm like this towards an acquaintance?

"Helloooo?"

"Hyeeek!"

He's trying to get away. I immediately clap forcefully.

When I come up to the grass and root around, I find a colorful sphere rolling about pitifully. Surprised by my clap, Mr. Fishroll has balled up.

When I pick him up to inspect him - "Ah, it's wet..."

He has emptied his bladder, as is customary.

He would become active again if I waited for a few minutes, but I firmly hold the ball in one hand, put my fingertips on the surface in strategic locations, and then give it a good tickle - "Koochi-koochi-koo!"

"Argh!"

Unable to stand it, the ball cracks open, and the limbs and head that were folded up inside pop out. He flails about, but my secure grip keeps him from escaping.

"You need to say something, Mr. Fishroll! Koochi-koochi-koochi-"

Oops, I didn't mean to continue it.

"hwahaaah.." He wriggles pitifully but cannot break free from the tickling.

"Muh-mercy! Have mercy!"

I release him at just the right point.

"Do you remember me?"

"Huh?" Mr. Fishroll looks at my face from point blank.

"Come on now; it was just a couple of days ago!"

"Ah-" Did he remember me? "Don't eat meeee!"

"I won't eat you..."

I feel like we've had this conversation before.

"Eating me is a bad idea! I'll wreak your stomach if you eat me!"

He's begging for his life as if we're complete strangers.

Haha. This might be-

"We're all gonna get turned into Yellow No. 1!"

What do you mean, Yellow No. 1?

"If... If you're dead set on... on eating me... I suppose... You can..."

"Mr. Fishroll, have you perhaps suffered amnesia regarding me?"

I get a vacant stare when I say this.

"Uhm, what?"

"Please try to recall the time when I was naming you."

"Names?"

"Yes. When did you become Mr. Fishroll?"

"When was it?"

"It was just the other day, you know?!"

He spends a quarter of a minute thinking.

"Ahh..."

The look of fear on his face suddenly softens.

"So, do you remember now?"

"Ah! My, my, the day's luck is good, and the sky is clear!"

"Indeed, the sky is blue, and the weather is fine."

"Is that so..."

"Let's start over. How's your day been?"

"It's been hit or miss."

He bobs his head while suspended from my hand.

"But it was really cruel of you to forget me. It isn't even that long since we met too."

"Ahhh... I've lost my honor."

He absently tilts his head.

"I'm docking a point for this."

"Noooo!"

"I suppose even a single day can be taken as a very long time for you fairies."

"Every moment felt like an eternity, ya know?"

"Oh my, I see."

I let out a giggle, and smile.

"By the way, I've been wondering about this for a while now..."

"It's good that you're wondering."

"Do you have a tan or something?"

"Ahh, you're talking about that issue..."

Mr. Fishroll has a full-body tan now.

"And why are you in only your underwear? You must have gotten that tan because you were practically naked."

His underwear consists of a strip of pelt, making him look like some kind of jungle king or something.

"Oh no... She's seen me in my undies!"

"You should watch your words."

The fairy gives me a smug look and says, "I'm living off the land."

"Well, that's all very well..."

"Ms. Human, you should try it too!"

"I think I will eat you."

"Hyeeeek!?"

"I was joking."

"Ms. Human, your jokes give me arrhythmia!"

Is your constitution okay like that?

"Maidens do not lay it all bare (their skin, that is)."

"Is that soo...."

"Now that I got a good look at it, your loincloth has a fish roll pattern, doesn't it?"

"It was that noticeable?"

He's glowing with joy.

"Fish rolls are my favourite thing to eat, you know?"

"Whuh-whaat?!"

"That was a joke too, don't worry. Come now, it really suits you." I put him down on the ground, then rest on the tip of his nose that thing he has had his eyes on, a piece of milk candy - "Here you go."

"Ah, Ahh!"

Losing his composure, Mr. Fishroll hops about while clutching at the candy with both hands. This fishing trip has been a success. I lift the candy about 50 centimeters above, and he comes with it, barely hanging on.

"Nooo, gimme it!"

I let go, and he loses his balance, falling with a "plonk" on his back. He's holding the candy to his chest in a loving embrace.

"I made that, you know. Give it a try."

"It feels like a waste to eat it..."

"Shall I give you one more then?"

"You what!?"

He looks up at me with surprise on his face.

I push a second piece of candy into his hands. Mr. Fishroll shudders, "I never expected something like this would happen."

He sits in seiza, carrying both pieces of candy on either side, then says, "Wanna get married?"

"No."

"I see."

My refusal doesn't seem to have affected his mood much.

"By the way, what happened to your friends?"

"They're being primordial over there."

I don't understand.

"What do you mean, 'being primordial'?"

"Who knows..."

Primordial soup?

"Well, let me ask you something else now. Where are you all settled now? Can you tell me that?"

"All right, I'll do my bestest."

Mr. Fishroll begins walking away. He stops close by and looks at me as if to say, come along.

As he walks, Mr. Fishroll resumes the conversation.

"Are you going to eat the rest later?"

"Hmm, what shall I do..."

"Ahh~"

Mr. Fishroll's back quivers as if he has been possessed by something. I'm not going to do anything about it, though. It seems like he himself expected it too.

"Ah- even, even if it has bones in it?"

They're a source of calcium; it's good for health!"

"Oh well then."

---

"This place, is this it?"

"Indeed it is."

We've reached our destination.

There's a sprawling savanna stretched out in front of me.

We aren't in Africa, though.

A part of the ruins I had seen before has been converted into this savanna.

They've done something at an extraordinary scale again, somehow!

As I search the horizon, I can see the uneven silhouettes of old buildings and the trees entwined with them as well. Over there is the world I am more familiar with.

They've somehow cleared out the rubble, deforested the area and turned this entire region into a plain, with small shrubs everywhere. And this likely happened suddenly, over a very short time interval.

"I was quite surprised back then, but you've all managed to do something crazy today too, huh?"

"It's a bigger gag this time around; what do you think of it?"

"I see, but..."

It seems the goal this time is to recreate the kingdom of the wilderness.

I have a decent idea of what a settlement in an environment like this would look.

We continue walking for a few minutes.

We soon come up to a village which is as primitive as I expected it to be.

"I'm back~"

Fairies flood out of the haphazardly erected group of thatch huts when Mr. Fishroll calls out.

They immediately spot me, and their eyes -- which are quite round even normally -- bug out in their sockets.

"It's a human~" "Woahh..." "For real" "Is it safe to go near?" "She won't get angry?"

"What's gonna happen next?" "waaah..." "The human's huge!" "Does she like goboten?" "Yaaay! Yay!" "Gimme a ride!"

They're all wearing loincloths.

"Everybody, I've got some precious candy!"

Mr. Fishroll lifts the two pieces of candy high in the air.

There's a roar of applause from the crowd.

"It's milk candy!" "can! day!" "Ooooh" "It smells so good!" "I want the wrappers!" "Is it handmade?" "Where'd you find it?"

Mr. Fishroll gives his reply.

"I got the candy from Ms. Human!"

"Ms. Human made it?!" "So being big isn't all they're good for?" "Is she handing out more?" "Just like that?" "Unbelievable!" "But maybe she really can..."

"There's a lot more where that came from. Would all of you like some?"

The entire village boils over with excitement when they hear this.

"Gimmeee!" "Aaah!" "Waaah! I want some!" "Nyaargh!" "Is this a turning point in history?" "Today's a festival day!" "Gyawaah!"

The fairies' fervour has surpassed excitement and transcended into complete anarchy.

I reach for my bag and dump the milk candy out in a hurry.

The candy piles up on the grass, and the fairies gather around.

"There's unfortunately not enough to go around for everyone, so please break the candy into pieces and divide it amongst yourselves."

"But..." "How are we supposed to break the candy?!"

"We've no choice but to use these!"

Mr. Fishroll appears, holding a stone implement.

It's a crude spear tipped with a sharp piece of stone.

For a race that is usually very technologically advanced, this tool seems too primitive.

And I'm talking about these weak fairies here. That stone used in the spear... "Isn't that spear tipped with pumice?"

"It is!"

As I thought.

"But it's heavy, so I'll rebuild it with cardboard later."

He's going to use cardboard?

"But wouldn't it become useless then?"

"Oh, I'll compensate for that with willpower, I guess?"

I see.

"All right, I'll cut the candy!"

The entire village is tensely watching the stone spear raised above the line of candy.

"Taaaah!"

The spear strikes the ground.

"Tah, tah, tah!"

And three times more, the spear hits the dirt.

The one who has done this deed looks up at me.

"Well, looks like I can't break the earth."

"I think you've lost sight of your goal."

"What!?"

"You're not very skilled with this tool, huh?"

"Stuff like this... It's hard.

Even though fairies are very dextrous, this super-race still has some weaknesses.

"Let's get this over with!"

Instead of a puny thing like what the fairies tried to use, I find a stone about ten centimeters in diameter first.

And then, I strike the candy.

Perhaps because the angle was wrong, the ball of candy shoots away with extreme force and pinballs around the fairies, who have been intently watching the scene.

If this had been a real game of pinball, I'd probably have gotten a high sco-ooooowww! (momentary panic).

Many have come out of this tragedy with injuries (Calm).

The entire village has been struck with fear, and chaos rules once more.

"It's started!" "Genocide! Genocide!" "It's a pool accident!" "Hyeeek!" "Wait for us in the next life!" "I can't bear it!" "Nyooo!?"

"No, I'm sorry, it wasn't on purpose... um... I'm sorry, truly... I wasn't trying to be mean, I wasn't... uhm... Don't cry..."

It took me half an hour to calm all of them down.

Of course, they've wet themselves, all of them have.

Somehow, in the process of calming them all down, the village's population has been halved.

I wonder where the rest went.

"We've lost some people."

"I'm sorry...."

I've dimwittedly doubled the depopulation rate.

This time, I'll try gently pressing down on the candy with the weight of the stone and give it a gentle tap instead.

The fairies are huddled in their huts, exuding subtle waves of fear, which I sense as I solemnly go about my work.

"...Is that it?"

I can't guarantee that they're split equally, but all the candy has now been broken into small pieces.

The fairies approach, their eyes sparkling.

"Waah!" "It's candy!" "Sweet!" "There's a lot!" "Milky!" "This is happiness, huh?" "Delish!" "Despite the wait, it's so mellow!" "This is the event of the year!" "We're being fed!" "Yum!" "I'm glad to be alive!" "The flavour is splendid, isn't it?"

The candy party is swelling with emotion.

Let me join in as well.

"By the way, Mr. Fishroll."

"Yes?"

You'd made a super futuristic city just a short while ago, so why is today's theme so primitive?"

"We all met and regressed?"

I'm really not seeing the merits of this though.

"Ah, we wanted to ask you something, Ms. Human!" he says with a raised hand.

"All right, come over and we'll talk."

"So about all this, we were thinking we'd try gradually evolving or something."

"Huh? Gradually evolving?"

"We just felt like it?"

I ponder over this statement as he says it.

I feel like there was a similar statement made elsewhere, or maybe not?

They tried to treat me as their god, and the result was that this phrase got imprinted in their memories... Wait, nonononono, this is troubling!

"I'll be charged with interference in fairy affairs..."

"Yes?"

"Ah, no, I was talking to myself. So, gradual evolution. And then?"

"And then, you see..."

I've managed to gloss it over.

"We've been stuck at the primitive human stage for a long while now, ya see. But we've got no idea how to go to the next evolutionary step."

"Ahh, the next step..."

Speaking of which, they're doing all this on their own, so I guess they've also imposed some rules upon themselves.

"We, we want to evolve, we want to evolve well."

"Even if you say that though..."

"What did you humans do, after this stage?"

"Ah, a problem of history, eh? That's going to be difficult."

"Izzatso?"

I bring my face close to his before saying it.

"It's because we have no records of those times."

"You don't?"

"We've lost those."

"I see..."

He doesn't seem shocked, and maintains his composure.

"What is missing?"

"What is missing, you ask?"

"What do humans have that we don't?"

"Hmm, I suppose we have strife..."

"...Strife?"

Mr. Fishroll repeats my words upon hearing them.

A chill goes down my spine.

"Ah, wait a minute. What I said just now doesn't count!"

"No?"

"It wasn't strife, it was hunting."

"Oho."

"Hunting, as well as gathering."

"Hunting and gathering..."

"We used to hunt and gather things to survive. It is in the process of doing this that we humans gained our vital energy, and technological development... Surely."

"I seeee~"

"But, I don't really see any big animals here that can be hunted... And in the first place, your kind don't even need food to survive, do you?"

"Hmm... Hunting and gathering..."

What a close shave.

How did they acquire all their knowledge?

They have the technology to build a futuristic city out of a dump overnight, and have now turned the local ruins into a savanna.

---

"fairies do not have the concept of strife," says Grandfather to me, and I don't think otherwise.

Still, a question remains: how did they achieve such nonsensical heights of technological development? How did they make technological advancements more significant than that of old humanity?

And this savanna... A bunch of ruins have been flattened, and a large swathe of forested land has been cleared, replaced by an entirely different biome... It has transcended scientific advancement into some kind of novel joke. Time and time again, it has been proved that sufficiently advanced science is indistinguishable from japery.

How did they learn such things?

"Before answering that question, I'd like to know what you think."

"I asked because I don't know, though..."

"Aren't you an honor student? Being one isn't a small thing, you know, you're an honor student! Look it up in a dictionary. It means you're above average. It means you're very knowledgeable. How many students in your batch graduated with honors?"

"... Only two."

I make a shaky "V" sign. One of the two was me. Incidentally, the other was one of my friends.

"But the curriculum wasn't as comprehensive as it was in your time, Grandfather. For subjects where the professor in charge died, and nobody else could teach them effectively, other professors with free time would gather the remaining material and use that as a reference to teach us. The density of the material has reduced when we compare the olden days to the present. But, in such an idyllic learning environment, my generation had succeeded in restoring our values of human excellence, with an abundance of imagination and flexibility, and have graduated successfully nonetheless."

"Generation of students, you say? What a weird turn of phrase you've come up with. If you've got such a great imagination, use that to imagine up an answer, why don't you?"

"With an imagination like mine, I'd only get some wild delusions if I tried to arrive at an answer. That's why I never look things up, and just ask away."

"You've let your title go to your head!"

"But..."

"All right, enough. I'm not asking you to present some spectacularly profound insight into the whole thing. Just think it through once and give me your best guess."

Well, I'm going to have to do some thinking now since he's asked me so directly...

What we know of the science of old humanity, the history of it all...

"Competition over land or resources?"

"You won't get even thirty points for that."

"They made technological advancements to avoid having their resources plundered?"

"Wasn't your major subject cultural anthropology? Do you even have a grasp on the subject?"

"Oh no, this great sage's unilateral, childish bullying has left my frail psyche crying for help already!"

"Freudian slip, much?"

"Just give me a minute. I'm trying to collate the information you've crammed into my head just now."

"Here's a hint. You don't need to factor in things like ecology or the biological side. You can also exclude primitive humans, as they couldn't have had much of an influence on the ecosystem."

My mind tends to go blank when I'm hurried.

Um, so basically... A hunter-gatherer's life... it was rather bloody, and life, in general, was a blur... and starvation was a constant... so weapons were developed."

"Something like that was postulated by a famous political thinker named Hobbes, I believe."

"So, that's the answer?"

"Your degree ought to be revoked."

"It was just a joke!"

Grandfather is a man with connections in scientific circles after all, and he may have enough influence to really take my degree away, so I can't chance it.

"Ah, I remember now. The lifestyles of hunter-gatherers were that of relative abundance, weren't they?"

"Indeed they were."

Grandfather sighs as if to say, 'So you finally got it, huh?'

"It is said that such societies stabilised fairly quickly. Of course, there were societies that actively performed population control by culling children and whatnot, but their lives weren't as full of the threat of starvation as we would imagine. As long as the number of mouths to feed didn't grow too much, the materials gathered within a particular area would probably have been more than enough."

"There were no wars?"

"There definitely were wars. But such clashes between communities weren't enough to advance weaponry by much. Humanity slowly spread all over the globe while continuing their hunter-gatherer lifestyles. And then, gradually, primitive forms of agriculture were developed, and technology advanced alongside. Here's something for you to ponder on now, what do you think people learnt from agriculture?"

"Food."

"You fail."

"That too, was a joke."

"Truly?"

"Certainly. Uhm, for real this time. From farming, humanity... learnt how to live stably... I believe."

"Yes. That's about right."

What a relief.

"I'll add to that; by stabilising the production of food, populations could easily grow."

"Wouldn't there be more variety in the kinds of manual labour required as well, if the population increased?"

"That's right. Certain individuals with greater power or charisma, such as kings or priests, were freed from the shackles of manual labour. Similarly, jobs of the military sort were also birthed from the idea of the profession.

"The creation of professions also encouraged scientific progress, didn't it?"

"Indeed. In a nutshell, the evolution that the fairies are talking about probably refers to the technological advancements made by old humanity during their transition from hunter-gatherers to an agrarian society. Now, what do you think, granddaughter? Can you see what the fairies are missing in their game of make-believe hunter-gatherers?"

"...Yes. The biggest reason is that the fairies need no food to survive."

"Finally. You've reached the level where you'd get about a 60 on a test." Grandfather allows a teasing smile to develop on his face.

"Indeed, the fairies have no impetus to maintain their health. And so, they have no need for agriculture. In fact, there is very little technology that they would need to maintain their lifestyle."

"But, they do eat sweets..."

"I don't believe there's enough candy in the entire world to actually satisfy their appetite for it. You should just treat it as something they like, which isn't necessary for their survival. Sort of like how old humanity had alcohol."

"But when you think of hunter-gatherers, they give off a savage, barbaric impression, don't they?"

"That's because it's hunting. Hunting is good. It's magnificently good."

Grandfather's fingers are squeezing some invisible thing in mid-air.

The fact that he's pointing an invisible muzzle at me is a tad unsettling.

"To summarise, the fairies are playing their primitive times game with the goal of becoming hunter-gatherers.

"That's one helluva flaw in their little 'game', isn't it."

"Now, what about how they developed their technology?"

"If you can figure that part out, I will personally give you a Nobel Prize."

"Isn't that a little too much?"

"It's because it is one of the biggest questions of this age."

"Grandfather, what do you think?"

"We can only assume that they have evolved purely to pursue their own self-fulfilment. Culture, science and technology have no real roles in fairy society."

"Hmmm.... But can such advancements even be made singlehandedly? As someone who's seen up front what they can do, it just seems advanced to a ridiculous degree, just impossible to understand."

"If you're that curious about it all, just make an effort to do the research already. I'll take care of grading your report."

"I've gone to great lengths to get this chance, so I'm feeling pretty motivated... Perhaps I'll learn something about their developmental processes from this."

"It would be nice if things went well... Here, how's this look?"

Grandfather finishes up the patchwork he was doing, and hands over a white one-piece dress to me. The portion of it that had gotten frayed is now neatly patched up.

"Thank you, you've fixed it up quite well. This dress is one of my favorites."

"Maybe you should learn how to sew as well."

"Oh, but people have these things called strengths and weaknesses."

"What are your strengths then?"

"Probably my ability to absorb knowledge?"

My forte leaves Grandfather at a loss for words.

Making myself look busy like a workaholic, I step out in the direction of the primitive village with my bag. I'm an exemplar at fieldwork, yes, siree.

This is quite ad-hoc.

While staying in the office -- where time runs like molasses -- has always worn my patience thin, contacting other races has turned out to be more stimulating than expected.

This may not be so bad after all.

I enter the ruins via the village and turn west to go down what used to be the main road.

The jagged remains of buildings line the road on both sides.

These buildings, which are now covered both inside and out by ivy and other weeds, stand tall as ghosts of their former selves.

I've entered the wilderness now, but because it's still quite close to inhabited areas, there is no dangerous wildlife here.

The most dangerous animals around are stray dogs, and even those don't stick around due to the frequent hunts the townsfolk conduct.

Just in case, I have with me some gadgets for self-defense, but I would rather avoid any situation warranting their use.

I consult the sketched-out map in my hands again.

A cluster of buildings, a tilted traffic light pole, and some rusted-up automobiles.

Using such things as landmarks, I make my way to the hidden entrance to the village of the lovable fairies.

"It should be here if I'm not wrong..."

I part a thicket and push through with relative ease for about half a meter before breaking through. On the other side, the rest of the thicket has been razed to the ground, and all that remains is a perfectly flat grassy plain.

This is where those fairies of myth and legend who would shy away from the public eye have built their hidden village.

How they did such an impossible thing is anyone's guess, though.

"Maybe they really did use magic after all..."

I sigh at the fact that I made such a statement.

Putting my straw hat back on, I set off once more. While the ground -- which is now flat -- is more pleasant to walk on, the oppressive sunlight beleaguers me instead.

I take a sip from my canteen occasionally while I continue towards the fairy village.

And at this point, something happens.

I feel the presence of something ferocious standing up behind me.

"...?!"

As a person aiming to be a confident and well-versed beauty, I can calmly accept this fact. My body, however, is rigid with fear, and I cannot even bring out the weapon I have with me for self-defense. I remain stock-still and am left grappling with the magnitude of the absolute chasm separating my body from my will. At the same time, an uncontrollable maelstrom of thoughts such as, "No!" or "I absolutely don't want to be eaten!" also runs through my mind.

I somehow manage to turn my head, but my legs give way simultaneously, and I end up crouching awkwardly. In that position, a ferocious predator's form appears before my eyes.

My lungs shrivel up instantly in fear.

Fangs lined with killing intent, muscles pouring with bloodlust, and mottled green skin that would inflict a visceral dread upon any observer. I know -- though only theoretically -- of this evil thing that has reared its head before me.

Considered the largest carnivorous dinosaur in existence, it is none other than that legendary beast of the Cretaceous period, the Tyrannosaurus Rex! -- or rather, a papercraft model of one (a meter and a half long).

"What's this now..."

Since the length of its body includes the tail, its height is probably only about 60 to 70 centimeters -- unless it's on tip-toes.

"Uhm... is someone controlling it?"

It seems this dinosaur is naught but a papersaurus possessing no vocal cords, as it only continues to gnash its fangs at me silently.

The most astounding part is that it can move on its own.

Normal papercraft creations can't do that.

Taking a closer look, it is an extremely fine piece. The body has been skillfully constructed as an amalgamation of tiny cubes with no gaps in between them.

This is quite a high-level model, isn't it? The eyes are just hollow circles, but the body itself is vibrantly colored.

Even though its coloration is composed of only haphazard splashes of primary shades, the design still manages to look quite refreshing somehow.

The papersaurus is now busy gnawing at my leg, but I feel no pain, not even an itch.

Having gotten past my initial astonishment, I now proceed to touch it directly.

"Oh my, my, my."

The joints have been constructed to facilitate movement.

As a test, I try lifting it up but am surprised to find that though it is large enough to comfortably fit under one's arm, its weight is unthinkably heavy given that it is made of paper. However, it is not as heavy as a child of a similar size.

"Now, I wonder what powers it..."

I look inside it through its eyeholes.

The papersaurus begins to squirm with a papery rustle.

"Oh, rubber bands."

The dinosaur is writhing around desperately, trying to prevent me from looking inside it.

Embarrassed, eh? You're embarrassed?

Is this dinosaur's culture one where it's embarrassing to reveal their precious, oh-so-precious rubber things?

It is now pushing at me directly -- perhaps to headbutt me -- so I pin it down with a sharp "Eiyah."

"... It died?"

It gets up slowly, then walks away with its shoulders slumped.

It's feeling down, huh?

"???"

Just what was it that has transpired?

As I proceed with this doubt in my heart, I come across yet another surprising development.

Somehow, the savanna is now teaming with clusters of various beasts. Just that... they are all made of papercraft again.

"This is quite a surprising development, isn't it?"

There's no room for doubt; this is all the fairies' doing.

Both this sprawling savanna and the crowd of paperwork dinosaurs that are upon it.

The sight brings to mind the concept of safari parks, which we old humans once used to enjoy.

I spot a stegosaurus sporting some magnificent fins on its back.

In one corner is a splendid specimen of a triceratops.

Is that some manner of pterosaur gliding above me, I wonder?

This place has become a dinosaur sanctuary with an abundance of variety.

Things that would usually stand at ten meters tall now barely reach a height of one meter. In other words, the dinosaurs are all 1:10 scale reproductions.

When I gaze at the horizon, my perspective appears to twist, and I see the illusory silhouettes of more dinosaurs in the distance.

Suddenly, I feel an itching sensation and look down to find a small thirty-centimeter long dinosaur (All of them are small like this though) - wait, it's nipping at my calf, isn't it!

It looks like a chicken, but no, it's actually a dinosaur.

If I'm not mistaken, this one is of the genus deinonychus. In reality, they happen to be three-meter-long carnivores, and tend to hunt other dinosaurs larger than themselves by forming packs.

And this one is quite a classic example of a feathered dinosaur, isn't it? That narrow cape cut into many strips represents the feathers, then?

"Mhmmm, well done. You score ninety points."

Although all it's doing is play-biting me, I can't let this dinosaur nom on me forever, so I give it a light kick away, which sends it running while foaming at the mouth. How cute.

I head to the fairy village while observing the papersaurs around me.

I notice as I look on that the dinosaurs do not attack each other, presumably because they have no physiological need to prey on each other.

There's no chance of conflict due to starvation, is there?

All the dinosaurs around me are in a weirdly relaxed state.

I suppose even the ones that attacked me back then were just being playful, weren't they?

I got quite swept up by previous events, but things are more enjoyable this time around.

I should show the fairies my appreciation.

Anyhow, the present I have with me today is... "Huh?!" My bag, which I'd dropped, has been ransacked.

Let's see what's left.

My sketchbook,

Some pens and pencils,

emergency rations, my canteen,

A handkerchief,

There's only one thing that's missing.

"Wh-why that thing?! Who could have-"

My eyes whip around, but I see no signs of the culprit.

"Oh... oh no..."

I search around for another ten minutes, but, unfortunately, am unable to recover the stolen item.

"Wait, it couldn't be the fairies, could it?"

I am certain they could have taken advantage of the confusion and quickly taken it away, but I don't believe their kind would stoop to theft.

"I don't get it..."

It wasn't the most precious thing, so I'll just drop the issue.

Changing track, I resume my walk and arrive in the village almost immediately.

"Hello, I hope everyone is well..."

"...Things are hellish."

"Mr. Fishroll, you look quite haggard... and it's only been a day, too..."

It seems like he's not the only one affected by this.

The entire village is mired in an air of stagnancy.

"Just what has happened here?"

All the other villagers are depressed as well.

Their population has decreased drastically too.

"...We, lost in the struggle for existence?"

"So you lost?"

"The family jewels are gone too, you know?"

"You had family heirlooms, did you?"

"We did have them you know, these things."

"What do you mean by that?"

"We, we've got no sweets left."

"Are you talking about your snacks?"

The fairy nods.

"Snacks are really important, you see..."

"So, the snacks you fairies usually keep hidden have been stolen?"

"Ah- Alll of eeeeemWscp (talk) 19:44, 18 October 2022 (CEST)!!!!"

He bursts into tears.

"There, there."

I stroke his head softly with the tip of my finger, which puts him into a trance-like state as he stands.

"Wake up, now."

"Hnghnnnn~"

He buries his head into my finger.

"It's a new charm?"

"You shouldn't fall asleep in the middle of a conversation."

"Washn't sleeping."

"You most definitely were."

"Uhngg..."

The fruitless conversation continues.

"Let's get on with it. Now, who stole the candy?"

"Ah, that matter. You know, to tell you the truth..."

And that is where my conversation with Mr. Fishroll ends.

From the village's square, a shriek sounds out.

"The demon!"

"What's the matter?"

"I-It's here, that demon!"

"A demon?"

What I find striding over countless teepees is...

"Ah, that's a giganotosaurus, isn't it?"

Isn't this one the largest of the theropods, one size larger than even that T-rex I saw before?

"Do you know anything about it?" asks Mr. Fishroll.

"Hardly, I'm not one who would enjoy knowing about animals that would tower over me, you know."

"Oho..."

The paper-giganotosaurus has an overall length of about two hundred centimeters. Truly a megalosaurus.

At a glance, it appears to be about eighty to ninety centimeters tall.

It has a menacing air to it, even though it's a mere paper dinosaur.

From the perspective of a ten-centimeter-tall fairy, it must look like a demon indeed.

Mr. Giganotosaur, who has walked boldly into the village has now singled out one of the fairies who didn't get away in time.

"AAAArrrgghhhhh!"

The victim wastes no time in balling up, as the fairies customarily do to defend themselves.

Perhaps they filched this trait off the pillbugs.

Mr Giganotosaur mercilessly bares his fangs at the fairy.

But it seems that balling up really does have its uses as a defence.

Any pair of jaws would have a tough time with a balled up fairy.

Mr Gigantosaur now proceeds to grip his prey in his mouth, toss it overhead, and catch the ball again on its way down. He just wants to play now.

Wow, he isn't just playing; he's even employing various advanced juggling techniques.

"Ah, a header..."

"How skilled..."

Mr Giganotosaur has a real way with the ball.

"Ooh, he's dribbling it now!"

"Dribbling..."

He's got some amazing footwork.

"I wonder what to call that technique where he catches the ball with his tail..."

"I wouldn't know..."

Well that's obvious, isn't it?

Mr victim has given up now and comes out of defence mode.

Looks like he has no way out now.

He does try to run, but the violent tumble he's undergone has messed up his semicircular canals, and he does a sloppy U-turn before crashing into the wall that is Mr Giganotosaur. It is very reminiscent of how cartoons typically end.

Down the hatch. Mr Giganotosaur chomps on the fairy's head and starts chewing.

How cruel.

"I know it's a dog-eat-dog world out there, but still, this is quite disturbing."

"It sure does disturb our sleep," quips Mr. Fishroll.

Soon, Mr. Victim get spat out onto a tent.

"So the fairy was indigestible, eh?"

Looks like Mr. Giganotosaur has skillfully kept exactly what he wants in his mouth, discarding the rest.

What sparkles while being held up in his jaws, as if to show off, is... a piece of caramel wrapped in aluminium foil.

"Isn't that a bog-standard world caramel usually found in UN ration packs?"

I used to like those as a kid.

I don't know about the aluminium foil, but it had many flavours.

"The last caramel's been taken now!"

Satisfied with his spoils, Mr. Giganotosaur leaves the village with an air of contentment.

The danger has passed.

The fairies who had escaped or hidden themselves shamble with listless looks on their faces back to the village square.

It seems this latest attack has again reduced the population of the village.

The fun factor at this village is plummeting rapidly now.

"I see; so the dinosaurs subsist on candy, do they?"

"All the candy in the village is gooone..."

This is the cause of the fairies' despondency, it seeMs

"Mr. Fishroll, I have a question."

"At your service!"

"Didn't you guys create the dinosaurs in the first place?"

"We diiiiddd~"

"What kind of civilization manages to be driven to extinction by its own creations?"

"Ah... To be honest, we did anticipate such questions~"

"Stop fibbing."

In the middle of this standup routine, I realise it.

The culprit who stole from my bag.

The deinonychuses are said to be pack hunters.

And they're said to be pretty smart, as far as dinosaurs go.

To the extent that they could pull off heists by way of a decoy.

"I see... So that's why they attacked me."

"Huh?"

"I had actually brought something with me for you today, you know. Some sweets. But I got waylaid by some of your creations, and my present got stolen.

"...For real?"

」

"I'm dead serious."

"That's... That's not a laughing matter... You know?"

"I'm not too affected by it; it's just a little candy that got stolen, after all."

Mr. Fishroll stares at me, flabbergasted.

"So... The sweets... They're..."

"Probably in the dinosaurs' bellies now."

He gnashes his teeth.

"It's because you made those things that this happened."

"At this rate, we're done for... Our hobby creations will bring about our downfall..."

"Serves you right. And you're going to be defeated by things powered with rubberbands, you know."

"We're a tad fond of rubber bands, so."

These fairies have no sense of crisis.

"Cap!"

One of the fairies listening to our conversation gets up with a cry.

The fairy that has gotten up has a primitive javelin tipped with a stone tool similar to an arrowhead and is wearing a buffalo skull helmet. Incidentally, the stone tool and the skull helmet are both fashioned from paper (Quite the contradiction).

"Oh, if it isn't Mr. Cap!"

"Yes, that's my nickname!"

So it is only a nickname?

It's been a while. You've got quite a tan as well, I see."

"There's been some trouble, ya know?"

"Well then, what seems to be the problem?"

Mr. Cap steps forth and addresses his depressed compatriots thusly:

"Weeeee're goooooing on a huuuunt!"

Everybody lifts their heads up at once.

"A hunt?" "A raid?" "So if we participate, we're hunter-gatherers?" "It sure is nice being alive, huh?" "We have to hunt to live."

It's dinosaur season.

In this chilly village where the sugar's sweetness has long been lost, just one word from Cap has moved the hearts of the populace.

Ah, I wonder if perhaps, at last, the fairies will have some event that will mark a point of strife in their cultural history?

I would have no choice but to accept this truth if such were the case.

Though it may be better for me to keep such a truth hidden.

"Look here!" says Cap, holding up his weapon. "With this spear!"

"OOhhh~"

Everyone is invigorated.

"With this spear!" cries Mr. Cap spiritedly while brandishing his spear. "Weee! Shallll! Fiiiiight!" He performs a series of sharp thrusts. "And like thiiiiis!" Finally, he sends the spear spinning to the heavens above his head. "The HEAVEEeeeeeeenssss SHAAa-uhn~" he falters - the spear bounces off his head and stickes itself into the ground.

"..." (He's passed out peacefully)

The venue is silent for a moment.

"EEEeeek!" "He's deaad!" "This is something serious!" "He got shut down!" "That naivete is a serious turn-off!" -- There's chaos everywhere.

"I really did think you died for a second..."

Mr. Cap gets up again while holding his head.

"You were doing pretty well until about halfway through."

"Ooooh..."

Mr. Cap, who has raised the spirits of the others, takes up his spear once more, and leads the villagers in their advance.

"I've defeated one of 'em myself!"

Ahh... I forgot that those of the fairy race tend to fib like this.

"With that spear?" "He got his candy back?" "Can we do it?" "If we can't..." "perhaps..." "If we poked at them with our spears? Could we get ours back too?" "Is this the beginning of the candy revolution?" "So we need to use our spears a lot?" "That's right, that's right!" "So... We need to fold up some spears?" "We need to fold spears." "To fold spears, we need..."

Everybody's whispers are moving towards the same conclusion: "Origami!"

They all run towards a particularly large tent with great excitement.

"Over there, we have tools for origami," says Mr. Fishroll.

"Are you not going as well?"

"Sometimes, it's nice to just accept one's impending doom too."

What a miserable existence.

"You're a real masochist, aren't you?" I ask as I flick at him with my finger.

(I feel dirty translating this) Ahh... More... Use me... Keep toying with me..."

I really like this little guy.

He's really interesting, so I think I should keep him under observation.

The fairies are conducting a ceremony to kick off the hunt.

Surrounding an altar and a pillar of fire is a large crowd of fairies engaged in a ritual dance.

Mr. Cap, who has donned the raiment of a witch doctor, is dancing fanatically in the center.

They're all in a trance. Everyone is entirely at ease.

Each fairy now has a spear in its hands.

The spears look like parasol chocolates, with paper rolled up around thin strips of bamboo.

It is quite admirable that the entire village is willing to fight in the face of such grave danger.

"I'm putting down thirty jellybeans towards the village getting destroyed after you all are beaten up," I prophecize mercilessly.

Sotto voce, so they don't hear.

The ceremony soon ends, and Mr. Cap announces to me: "We're off then, Ms. Human!"

"Oh, but I'm coming with you to watch."

"Well, I'll be..."

I've come this far; I can't skip the ending at this point.

"Well, let's go then!" "YEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

The primitive village's dinosaur subjugation forces leave the village in droves, their spears at the ready.

I slowly follow from behind as well.

The papercraft dinosaurs live all over the savanna.

The subjugation force meets its first quarry in an instant.

"We've found one!" "That thing, eh?" "It's rather large..." "It's probably strong..."

It's quite right to say it looks mighty.

Its skin is armored, and with a club-like appendage at the tip of its tail, this Ankylosaurus has fittingly been called the tank of the Cretaceous period.

This papercraft ankylosaurus is about eighty centimeters long.

It's squatting, with all four legs planted on the ground.

"What do we do?" "What indeed..." "Will we do it?" "Are we going to?" "If we're doing it, we'd better get to it!" "Let's do it." "I'll do it!" "Let's do it, come on!"

The subjugation force has chosen quite a formidable opponent for its first kill.

They're choosing the hard way right from the start.

It's called a tank, but the ankylosaurus is a herbivore. And so, from its armor to its tail, every part of its body is built for self-defense.

In fact, even a tyrannosaurus would not be able to escape fractures if it got hit by that bony flail of a tail.

There are other possibilities that could be gleaned from the fossils discovered so far, but such discoveries are still left in the dark due to mankind having lost its steam.

"Heave-ho!"

The members of the subjugation force leap spiritedly towards this formidable enemy whose lumbering body is covered in multiple layers of defences.

Many fairies thrust their spears into its back... but its thick armour stops their blades.

At the same time, Mr Ankylo rears up. His long tail stretches taut behind him.

Standing on his hind legs, he bends his forelegs somewhat unsteadily.

Then, while balancing himself with his tail, he dashes off at a speed that belies his ungainly form.

"... So they modelled this one based on that theory, huh?"

There was a theory that the ankylosaurus used its tail not as a weapon, but as a counterweight to aid in walking upright.

Mr Ankylo leaves the scene with a few of the fairies that had attacked his back with their spears in tow.

As for the remaining fairies - "It escaped?" "It skedaddled." "Did we win?" "We won?" "Looks like it." "It's our victory then." "We won!" "VICTORYYYYY!"

Wait, I thought you guys were trying to kill the dinosaurs.

"We'll keep up the pace like this."

Morale has improved, so all's well that ends well, I guess.

After continuing for a short distance, we come across the next target.

Quite a tough dinosaur this time as well.

It's got a slim profile, with powerful jaws, and its fearsome talons on both legs are conspicuous.

Its brilliant blue plumage makes it look less like a reptile and more like a bird.

Clearly, this is a hunter that excels in agility and shows no mercy.

Its body is about... fifteen centimeters long.

"... It's small."

It's a Velociraptor.

It's one of the smaller carnivorous dinosaurs.

And again, its length of fifteen centimeters also includes its tail.

It's actually shorter in stature than the fairies.

About the size of a large dog when compared to a human.

"This one's small!" "It's a pipsqueak!" "Can we win?" "Looks like we can." "Is it going to be an easy win?" "There's only one, too." "God wants us to kill it?"

Looks like they believe this will be a cakewalk.

Sure enough, they point their spears forward. They're ready for battle.

"Assault!"

Mr. Cap's spear easily pierces Mr. Raptor, who is standing upright.

However, the absent-minded Mr. Raptor... He isn't dead yet.

"Oh my." I give the puzzled Mr. Cap a tip: "You have to cut its rubber bands!"

"Ahh, right."

After being stabbed a few times, the raptor's rubber bands are cut.

Mr. Raptor falls on his back as he lets out a papery death rustle.

"Oh, I hunted it!" "He hunted it!" "We hunted it!" "Are we perhaps born hunters?"

No, you're comical lifeforms with the heartwarming gene.

Well, that aside, a victory is a victory.

Just as I think things are going surprisingly well, something that comes out of a hole from my left cancels that thought.

I could describe the scene with some picturesque words.

But let me attempt to describe things more simply.

What has come out of that hollow?

Nothing but a hundred and sixty-seven velociraptors (I've counted them).

"EEEEeek?!"

The subjugation force is filled with dread.

The raptors have the aura of bullies about them and truly look like a group of evil ruffians.

Ah, this is going to be a rout.

"EVERYBODY, FIIIIIIGHT!"

At Mr. Cap's order, everyone prepares their weapons, even though they are bewildered.

As for the raptors, they proceed to intimidate the fairies.

The raptors look towards us and open their toothy mouths as if to swallow the fairies up.

Mr. Cap drops his spear.

The army of hooligan dinosaurs immediately sets upon the fairies, who have all but lost their will to fight.

"Noooooo!" "Iyaaaa!" "Aidez-moi!" "Stoooop!" "Ahhh! Noooo!" "Uhhhnnnn" "Would we taste good as evening snacks?!"

No, you wouldn't.

Besides, you're the ones that created these papersaurs in the first place.

Even when their prey has no sweets, the raptors show no mercy in their play.

Since the fairies only number forty, they cannot match the enemy in numbers. They're being overwhelmed, trampled down and tossed about, a full course of torment.

"Ah! My Goddess!"

"... What a troublesome bunch you are."

I really want to keep my involvement to a minimum, but it seems like the primitive times game will end if I don't do something, so I will help out just a little.

I take out the self-defence tool I have in my bag.

The papersaurs won't stand a chance against this thing.

First, I ignite the fuse with a flint.

"Here goes!"

I throw the tool into the center of the conflict, and after several seconds, it explodes with a fierce report.

It's a firework.

Ten seconds after the gunpowder has been expended and everything has burned up, the savanna is filled with balled-up fairies as well as knocked-out velociraptors.

"A single-handed victory."

Ufufu.

The fairies are beginning to stir.

As usual, none have the slightest clue why they fainted.

When I explain that I killed all the dinosaurs, the fairies believe me without question.

They're all looking at me, their eyes filled with devoution.

"I knew it, Ms. Human! You really are God, aren't you?"

"Think of how the real God would feel about you supplanting them with me!"

"Here!"

Mr. Cap offers up the origami helmet he is wearing reverentially.

It's way too small for me, though.

"Thank you... But you've lost your trademark accessory now, haven't you?"

"Well, we don't really think our identities are very important..."

"You should, though..."

"I could make another?" he says as he points to a pile of raptor shells(?).

I see. You're going to use the skull of your prey as a headpiece?

So the concept of witchcraft, something like imitative magic or mimetic magic is now beginning to appear, is it?

The fairies are turning towards the dark side.

"Everyone, let's get to it!" Mr. Fishroll directs the other fairies to dismantle the spoils of the hunt.

"Mr. Fishroll, what do you mean when you say 'dismantle'?"

"Something like this?"

The fairies grab parts that are glued on and pry them apart with stone blades.

Looks like the strategy is to turn the raptors back into piles of paper and rubber bands.

The papercraft is dismantled in a jiffy.

Astonishingly, each dinosaur is composed of only a single piece of paper and some rubber bands.

Inside the opened body, rubber bands stretch crisscrossed about, bundled together like muscle fibres.

So this is how the dinosaurs could make such precise movements. Even rubber bands can be used for long periods of autonomous movement if precisely tuned.

"From here!" "Here too!" "I hear you~" "a miss~" "It's a miss this side~" "It's a miss, but in a good way~" "It's a perfect miss~" "A miss is a miss, as good as it gets~" "Ahh, it's a miss, isn't it?" "So it is, so it is." "It was a miss it when I saw it." "Nothing but misses here, huh?"

The word "miss" is thrown about casually as they continue taking the papercraft apart.

If there are misses, maybe there are also hits... Ah, looks like they found one.

"Jackpot!"

As I watch, one fairy lets out a shout and presents what was hidden within one papercraft carcass.

I join the fairies gathered around and lean in for a closer look.

"Ah, this-!"

This cube wrapped in aluminium foil... it's a world caramel!

The world caramel. It's a standard ration item issued by the UN for priority distribution to children worldwide. Its purpose is to add more carbohydrates into children's diets, so one can get some of it via an application even if they don't have ration tickets.

The most salient feature of the world caramel is... its enormous proportions.

It measures three centimeters on a side.

One can feel the UN's determination through it.

But, because it is such a common snack, people quickly get tired of it. And so, the abandoned caramels have somehow found their way into the stomachs of these papercraft dinosaurs.

"They hide the candy inside their bodies," says Mr. Cap.

"It doesn't seem like they actaully digest it... Do they just hide it inside their bodies?"

Yes, so they can be found by someone, somewhere."

THe fairy who found the caramel holds it overhead and skips about.

"A miss~" "It's a miss." "Uh-huh, it's a miss again~" "A hit!"

This is in another area.

"It's no good..." "It's empty inside." "There's nothing." "It's another miss" "AH! I found one!" "I've struck candy here as well!"

It seems the dinosaurs that are hits are all rather obese.

There's a dense pile of sweets now.

Caramels, candy balls, bell castellas, monakas, tiny donuts and fugashi....

"There's a lot!" "It's quite satisfying." "What an impressive catch, eh?" "Hunting might actually be really nice." "By living and hunting, we will gain charisma."

The fairies are all very happy.

"How many are left?"

"This one's the last!"

Only one raptor is left to be dismantled.

"Then, let's all fold up a box," says Mr. Cap.

"YEAAAAH!"

The disassembled raptors are folded along their crease lines once more.

Just by changing the way the complex and mysterious bits and pieces of the little dinosaur model are folded, the paper has transformed into a box. Abracadabra, alakazam, it's a box the size of a cigarette pack now.

"What about rubber bands?" "Put them in the boxes~" "And then..." "Put the sweets in~" "All done?" "No..."

It looks like a commodity product, as if that was a consideration since the time the dinosaurs were first designed.

The following words are emblazoned on top:

The good kid's animal snacks （One papercraft model） ~ Third period 。 Dinosaur Edition ~

"I'm sorry, but this looks really contrived."

"Huh?"

"Why are you making these boxes, and why are you making it look so easy?"

Even nonsense has its limits.

"chi~?"

"Just what are you trying to do, making boxes that look like they're to be put on sale?"

They're completely upending the free market.

"Ah.. Uh... But- but... Even though it is mainly just papercraft, if we don't mark it as being a snack, we can't put it up at the convenience stores!"

"What's a convenience store?"

"... Yeah, what's a convenience store again?"

"I'm the one asking you that!"

This is giving me a headache.

"But still, just as it is, if it were sold on the market, this item would surely be in high demand, wouldn't it?"

"That's right, that's right!" (in a triumphant tone)

"By making the outer box a part of a set, you're encouraging people to collect all the items, huh? That's quite a clever play."

"Are you angry at us?"

"I'm actually impressed, in a way."

"Uhhoho~"

In a jiffy, all the raptors have been turned into packages.

But it seems like there's one last problem left.

"Leader! Leader, we don't have enough sweets for each box!" "That's too bad~" "But that's bothersome?" "I really want to get more candy now."

So, they realised it, eh?

"You guys have such crazy technological prowess, so why don't you also just make your own sweets?"

All of a sudden, every fairy stops what it's doing and stares at me.

"Wh...What?"

Mr. Fishroll answers me on the verge of tears.

"We... we're no good at it."

"No good?"

"They... somehow never come out right!" "They're always horrible!" "We do want to make them..." "But we always fail..." "I wonder why..." "Who knows~" "I don't get the theory behind sweets."

What a strange race.

"You're the best there is for sweets, Ms. Human."

"So that's why you treated the sweets I brought you as precious family heirlooms?"

Sweets are quite a valuable commodity, it seems.

"By the way, when were the first-period and the second-period collections released?"

"They didn't come out."

"So you suddenly decided to start with the third period?"

"Not really..." "Uh-huh~" "How can we explain it..." "What did we do first..." "Who knows..." "We've forgotten that, huh?" "I think I have a dim idea of it..." "Well, shoot then~" "I think... surely... at first, we were sitting around at the roots of the world tree... and then...."

That one fairy is saying some pretty outrageous things.

"Pho...to...synthetic...pro...karyotes, we made those first."

"Beg pardon?"

I think I heard something like "photosynthetic prokaryotes" just now...

"We wondered if we could make them with origami, and we ended up making them when we gave it a try."

That shouldn't be possible, normally.

But maybe it is... They are fairies, after all.

All of a sudden, things grow chaotic.

"And then, there was a lot of oxygen, right? And we thought, 'We shouldn't have to wait for evolution to happen', ya know?" "Yeah, something like that" "We sure did speed it up, didn't we?" "It just happened on the way" "We did, we did!" "Eukaryotes, and then multicellular organisms.. coellies, then spongies... then annies..." "And after that, we let it all run on auto." "You've got quite the memory on ya, huh?" "Ah, you know, I'll forget again soon enough." "When was that again?" "It was a million years ago!" "If one thing had gone wrong, we all wouldn't exist!" "Never forget!" "Speaking of..." "Ms. Human, talking your language is super hard..." "It's hard to say what you mean, isn't it?" "Still, it's nice, innit?" "Sure is, sure is."

"Basic as a whistle, with the aesthetics of a beefsteak, it's like target practice for societal integration!"

"<「基本的」fundamental (basic)/steam whistle>, < 「美的」 aesthetics /beefsteak>, <「社会的」 (a fundamental requirement of society / a requirement for target practice?!)>"

"coellies... spongies.... and... annies?"

Coelenterates. Sea sponges. Annelids.

As far as lineups for early multicellular organisms go, I think they're quite good.

Wait, so... If these papercraft pseudo-lifeforms were used to recreate evolution...

"Things moved really fast after that, huh?" "It was crazy fast; happened in an instant!" "It was such an interesting experience, wasn't it?"

I wonder if it really is possible to recreate evolution like that, with just origami...

I stop myself from thinking about it too deeply.

"Ah?!"

At this moment, the fairy taking the final raptor apart lets out a shout.

"What's happening?" "Trouble?!" "What is it? what is it?!" "It's a field day for all us rubberneckers!"

"Look what I found!"

The thing that fairy is holding up high.

That thing, it's a-!

"Wow, how about that. A shiny."

A highly sought-after caramel that is rarely found hidden amongst the others.

A golden caramel.

Ahh, its wrapper has such a divine, golden glow! How dazzling.

"Ooooooooopoooooohhhhh...."

The fairies grow lively.

"If you send that wrapper to the UN, they'll give you a can of sweets. A big, big one, like this," I say, stretching my hands out.

"Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh~"

The fairies begin writhing about.

"This is the first time I've seen a golden caramel myself, you know."

Oh, by the way, even if you only find a silver wrapper, you can still get a can of sweets if you send in five of those.

Unfortunately, unlike the gold ones, the silvers are based on a lottery.

Either way, the prize would take a few months to arrive, wouldn't it?

But waiting for stuff like this to come can be enjoyable too.

Well, I'll refrain from doing anything boorish.

"Would you like me to post it for you? The wrapper, I mean."

"Please!"

I accept the wrapper.

I wonder what kind of can it will be... I can't help but be curious.

"Everyone! Here's to our success!"

Mr. Cap is especially spirited.

"Yeeeaaah!" "Let's goooo!" "I'm pumped!" "We're gonna bulldoze 'em all!"

And so, hunting culture earned a mythical status in fairy culture.

Papersauruses, which come with a chance of bearing candy, are now a valuable source of sustenance.

The fairies have understood now that they have no choice but to hunt.

It has reached the point where the villagers do nothing but hunt all day with their stone tools.

New stone tools were invented in quick succession, and more efficient hunting methods were developed.

Even the ones who weren't hunting would go foraging for wild strawberries and gummy nuts, leading to a sharp increase in the number of available sweets.

That's right.

The fairies are now splendid hunter-gatherers.

The once dwindling village population is now seeing a dramatic boom once more.

The golden caramel has become a legend.

Because I sent the wrapper off to the UN, they couldn't worship it directly. Instead, they created an idol to worship in the wrapper's place.

The idol depicts a heroic figure holding up the golden caramel.

Religion has taken over the village's identity.

As the village keeps developing, it seems like it won't be long before urbanization also occurs.

"Safari partyyyy! Advance!"

The fairies have defeated several powerful enemies.

And so they go, to score some more sw33t l00t.

The stegosaurus (a herbivore).

"We've struck marshmallows!"

The Allosaurus.

"Aloe candy!"

The Iguanadon.

"Hand-made potato chips!"

The Epanterias.

"Karintou!"

"Advance, steady!"

It truly is a steady advance.

And finally, they stand in front of the crown prince of the dinosaur kingdom.

"It's time! Hunt 'im down!"

"Hooah!"

The fairies in the crowd throw their spears at the tyrannosaurus-rex whose legs are caught in a pitfall trap.

They keep at it until their prey is weakened.

Hunting by trapping and throwing spears has a much-improved success rate over a crowd of fairies jumping on their prey.

Even the T-rex, mighty predator as it may be, cannot withstand such an onslaught.

Shivering as if gasping for air, it lays down, never to rise again.

It's cruel, but this is what they call survival of the fittest. They're all just made of paper, though.

Mr. Cap leaps onto the large body and pulls out the heart hidden within the sacrifice.

It seems rather hefty - "Wha- this thing's real heavy!"

He pulls it out.

It appears.

"The sacrifice..."

It's a bar of chocolate.

But of course, it is no ordinary chocolate bar.

... It's a very peculiar chocolate bar.

It gives off such a solid first impression that it seems appropriate to refer to it as "Chogoreito", as they used to call it in Japanese.

But can anyone wear a T-shirt with such text on it while smiling so naturally? Impossible, right? You get what I mean? I'm honestly quite confused about it too.

Let me describe this chocolate bar clearly, in more words than there are in this book's character description section for you.

Firstly, it's enormous.

The once popular chocolate bar vanished from the markets with the demise of material civilization.

But old confectionary cookbooks still have pictures of them, so we know what they looked like in the past.

Chocolate bars usually weigh between seventy to a hundred and twenty grams.

And this Shougoreito's (the characters change depending on the mood) weight comes out to a whopping five hundred grams.

You can't simply break it with a strike; this thing resembles some manner of armored plating more than a chocolate bar.

But instead of having a fitting name such as choco-plate-mail, embossed in blunt white lettering over its brown wrapper is this word: "CHOCOLATE".

Looking at it again, I see it's got the UN's watermark.

It seems this thing is being manufactured at the behest of the UN's leadership.

Filled with energy and easy to digest, it seems this sweet will always pull through and splendidly save people's lives when the time comes.

Which is to say, it's an emergency ration item.

This armor plate-esque chocolate bar is meant to protect people from that invisible bullet known as starvation.

Oh, that line's going into my memoires.

Anyway, since this is an emergency ration distributed solely to regions affected by famine, it isn't easy to get one's hands on it in more fortunate places.

We can only occasionally get some of it in exchange for ration tickets.

And even that isn't in one piece - it was always broken up - rather sadly.

These things are made large and thick, bringing joy just by being held in one's hands. Truly a killer item for any child. A whole bar of this stuff. Frankly, it's a precious thing.

I'm sure this is the first time the fairies have seen such a thing as well.

The fairies have collectively forgotten to pick their jaws up after dropping them.

"This is insane..." "Impossible..." "HORY SHITTO" "... Am I dreaming?" "... Is it a trap?" "... Am I seeing things?" "Have we been bamboozled?" "Or is it just that... marvelous?" "It's so big... It's just bewildering."

"It's not a monster, is it?" "If I think about it calmly, I just get excited again!" "If you think rationally, there's only one thing you can say..." "and that's...." "this is..."

The wave of bewilderment washes over the fairies and leaves behind an explosion of delight.

"It's a mega-chocolate bar!"

It is a spectacle that symbolizes an era of wild enthusiasm.

The recovered mega-chocolate bar is instantly the talk of the village.

The populace's expectations are heightened furthermore by the sight of the gargantuan candy bar, carried on the backs of eight fairies.

There's no thought given to preserving it for later. They haven't the bandwidth in their minds for it. There's only one thing they can do: eat it all.

Of course, they still need to figure out how to eat it.

The fairies hold a conference to decide, as they usually do.

"Cut it?" "Will we?" "Are we cutting it up?" "Let's spread it out to everyone!" "But it feels like a waste to cut it up..." "UUUUhhhhhggggg I wanna eat it" "Misete-kure, I just don't get what to do..." "My heart, it aches!"

"It's haaarddd"

They are absolutely flummoxed.

"Ms. Human, isn't there a proper way to eat this thing?" asks Mr. Fishroll while flapping his arms at me.

"I think it would be fun to just break it up and eat it as is, but, well now.... With such a quantity of raw chocolate, one could make all kinds of sweets..."

Mr. Fishroll sighs and holds his knees close, deep in thought. "You said many kinds...."

He gives me a look as if he just realized something outrageous.

"So there could be more sweets?!"

"I suppose there could, but... Ah, now that I think of it, I could also do things with almonds. And with the amount of raw material we have, there's definitely a lot of sweets I could make..."

"Are... are you a mage?" "If this mega chocolate bar could multiply, that would be happiness?" "But... That's impossible?" "It would be a miracle if it did?" "You can do miracles?" "Then, let a miracle happen." "I, I can't hold myself back for long." "I'm okay with just breaking it up, too." "But having a variety of sweets would be nice, huh?" "Think of it as an investment, an investment!" "Ms. Human, Ms. Human!"

"What is it?"

"HERE!"

The fairies come together and present the chocolate bar to me.

All right, all right, I'll just make you some sweets, and it'll all be fine, yes?

And so, here I am, on my way back home.

Sweets take quite a lot of time to prepare, in and of themselves.

If I dawdle, it'll be dark before I know it.

It's even possible that this entire primitive landscape could disappear overnight.

So I need to get back home early today.

"... It's eleven, is it?"

I think I can manage if I hurry.

Naturally, my gait quickens, but - "Oh?" - I spy something strange on the way.

I part a thicket to see what is rustling about within.

"Kruk"

It says something.

It's sort of like a bird.

Five centimeters long.

"Mmhm, with this size, and these details, I rate it 95 points."

It's well made.

If I were asked if it is a bird, though, I would be at a loss. It looks half like a dinosaur.

But with its flaired feathers and long, straight tail, it gives me a sense of deja-vu.

"Kruk?"

And also, it's crying out. It's a fully-voiced type.

The papersauruses didn't have this feature, did they.

"... Which means this is a new one?"

I suppose the fairy in charge of planning is hard at work developing these things.

"Kruk-kruu"

And with such parting words(?), Mr. Suspicious Bird scampered away into the thicket.

Looks like it isn't very good at flight.

This five-centimeter creature would, in reality, have been one that spanned half a meter long, back when it wasn't extinct.

It might be a descendant of the pterosauruses .

There's something still bothering me, but I can't find the words for it.

"Ah, look at the time! I need to hurry."

I just have to make those sweets.

Flustered, I leg it for the remainder of the journey home.

Choco-crunch bars, steamed chocolate cake, chocolate bits, roast almonds coated in chocolate, donuts....

The entire lineup ended up consuming the rest of the day.

I have made enough to fill an entire basket.

Lifting it is a little like doing a weightlifter's workout.

The next day, I leave for the primitive village with the heavy sweets basket in my hands.

One day's worth of time can be the same as an entire month or even a year for a fairy.

Perhaps this is due to the difference in their lifespan.

To find the village in shambles today would definitely not go down well with me.

For them, a boring day is akin to an unbearable void in their life.

And so, there is a chance that even if I go all the way to their village today, I may only find the remains of a civilization that went as far as it could possibly go.

Please, fairies, don't run away.

As I walk while praying for good fortune, I notice something moving at the edge of the savanna.

"... Yet another new creation."

There's a bird, about twenty centimeters long. It resembles a muscular ostrich.

It is holding a chocolate bar it got from somewhere in its large mouth.

I'm guessing, based on the bar's size, that it is a ration bar, not a commercial product.

Ration menus differ between areas, so perhaps the fairies got their hands on some adjacent region's stuff, which this bird snatched up.

The bird is covered in plain-looking paper.

Based on its scale, the real thing would have been about two meters from head to tail, I think?

It isn't an ostrich, then.

Anyhow, it's a scale model of some creature that existed in the distant past.

It gobbles the chocolate bar up with a flick of its beak, then calmly struts off.

"If you're that defenseless, you're going to get attacked by some dinosaur, you know."

"Growwwayy!"

It lets out a weird hiccup of a cry.

It's giving me the impression that it wants to keep its distance.

"Grro-woww, uwayyy-ayy!"

It vanishes into the sea of grass while muttering to itself.

"... I was already leaving, though..."

As one would expect of an absurd life-form.

But, starting with that small bird from yesterday, it seems like the birds are multiplying; I wonder why.

"Huh... Ah, right, maybe it's the fourth great age..."

"The good kid's animal snacks ( One papercraft model ) ~ Fourth Period 。 Bird Edition ~"

I suppose it would be something like that, wouldn't it.

There are fairies who create these beasts, and there are fairies that hunt them down.

Ah, no, no. It's a matter of cause and effect.

In any case, maybe because the fairies have brought out this new series, there's not a single papersaurus in sight today.

But since it would be bad if I got the sweets I'm carrying snatched away like last time, I suppose it's a good thing.

It's a calm day.

"Hello!"

"Ah, it's Ms. Human! Arriving any minute now!"

Oh joy, the village is safe and sound.

A large group of fairies gathers at my feet in an instant.

"I see you're all doing very well."

"We're right chipper!" "Maybe too chipper?" "we're livin' our lives lively though." "We look like a bunch of hobos." "Why are we even alive..." "It's a mystery!" "It's a mystery how we're still alive." "Actually, perhaps, we aren't." "Maybe, the entire world's just a delusion in my head" "I've only been alive since yesterday." "Come to think of it, I'm actually alive."

"Oh me oh my..."

It seems they have many differing value systems.

Though there were some rather unsavory ones amongst them.

"Well, I'm glad you are all well. By the way..." I place the basket in front of me. "What do you think this is?"

"Whatever could it be..." "What is it?" "A basket?" "Well, it is a basket..." "But isn't it really a basket?"

"It is a basket. I'm asking all of you what's inside it. Did you think about that?"

"A quiz, huh?" "An exam, even." "Iunno~" "Is it a difficult question?"

"A difficult one..."

I brought it here at your request though.

"It smells good." "Feels irresistible." "It stirs me up" "Can I look inside?"

"Of course!"

The fairies opened the basket.

"Wooooaaaaaaaahhhh" "It's chocolate!" "There sure is a lot, isn't it?" "It's got a sweet, heartrending feeling to it" "Mind if I dig in?"

"Go right ahead. It's something you fairies requested, after all."

"Really?"

The fairies look at me in surprise.

The chocolate party begins.

The fairies of the village quickly gather, curious.

"Woahhh" "Chocolate!" "There's so much!" "Can we have any?"

The village square is instantly covered in fairies.

It seems there are no fairies here who don't know me.

It's an unexpectedly hollow victory.

"But, even though the population has increased, the village doesn't look more developed for it, does it?"

"Izzatso?"

It's good that the village is still here, but it feels like its evolution has stagnated.

Things moved so fast the last time that the present state is a bit of a let-down.

I'm not sure what to make of this.

But if they remain stable, it is easier to record data about them, and my life will be made simple.

Is this how fairies usually are?

And is this what I'm supposed to do as part of my job?

It's hard to judge.

"By the way, you fairies."

"Wha' iff ih?" "Yes?" "A question?" "We'll answer with an answer."

"The fourth-period series looks to be in good shape, hmm? The models are more polished, and you've managed to make the paper look even more realistic."

Blank stares all around.

"... The fourth period." "What's a fourth period?" "wazzat?" "Was there such a thing?" "Doesn't seem like it..."

"Are you sure you're not just forgetting? I've seen two of them now, those papercraft birds."

"Uhmm..." "Did we ever make those?" "Anybody know?" "I got nothin'" "We have no memories of it?" "Maybe the secretary did it?" "Or was it a mass resignation?"

"You've gotten a splendid case of mass amnesia, haven't you all?"

And what's a secretary got to do with any of this anyway. Ah, well, not like I can do anything about it.

The party soon ends.

"Ms. Human, you've gone above and beyond for us."

"Not at all..."

"How could we ever repay you for your service?"

"Wha-?"

Even if you ask me, though... This is really putting me on the spot.

"Well, how about you do your best in the hunts?"

"I see" "Quite right." "If we're hunting, we have to do it right." "Yeah..." "So, let's go?" "Right on!" "It's a hunt! It's a hunt!" "It'll be good if we get a good catch."

The fairies really want to hunt, it seems.

They are extremely spirited about it.

"Fufu."

Things feel very pleasant.

"If this hunt goes well, maybe we can get back at Ms. Human as well!"

"I thing you meant to say 'give back to' there."

"Okaaayyy"

The hunting party moves towards the savanna in droves.

The endless savanna stretches vast today as well.

But this savanna isn't actually endless; it's just that the contours of the surrounding ruins, which would usually hide the horizon, are not visible anymore.

And even this is not exactly the case. If you were to strain your eyes, you would see a faint unevenness far into the distance.

It seems that this savanna is gradually expanding itself day by day.

Humans just cannot comprehend the fairies' abnormally advanced technology.

From my conversations with them, there are times when even they do not understand themselves. Still, sometimes, one can see glimpses of their unfathomably vast intellects lurking behind the morsels of knowledge they reveal off-hand.

Indeed, they are a wonderous race.

Sadly, their intelligence does not reveal itself unless they have sufficient numbers.

And even when they do gather, they tend to scatter at the drop of a hat. A momentary miracle.

If their society makes great strides, it is only due to the infinitesimal quanta of probability that appear as mirages within the interstices between their individual and collective selves.

I have understood one thing now as I walk alongside them on this savanna.

My guidance was never needed to help develop this primitive village.

A mediator's job is not to rule or control the fairies but to act as a liaison, only when required.

To mediate interactions when vital, to foster lasting relationships, to earn their trust, and to bring any problems that arise to a speedy resolution.

And though there may have been some heart-rending tragedies between humans and fairies in our history, we are past such conflicts now.

It's a detail I had missed from since before I was hired. One need not do anything. Watching over the fairies doing as they will is all that needs to be done. After all, we're nothing but bystanders who have lost the real game of evolution.

This was from back when the fairies were first sighted. Namely, when the UN Mediation Council was founded, they had over a hundred and twenty-six articles in their rulebook to make judgments with the utmost caution and composure.

After a couple of centuries, most of those articles became outmoded and were gradually removed.

Nowadays, only a few of the original tenets still remain.

There aren't any penalties in this job, and there's nothing they can even fire you for either.

It's a job in name alone.

Even so, there is one rule remaining that has endured the ravages of time.

Article Three: Mediators shall engage in the following activities under the supervision of their department heads.

1. Mediators must attempt to establish cordial relationships with other races in their areas of operation.

2. In the event of any disastrous incident concerning other races, mediators must report to their supervisors while also taking appropriate steps.

3. Upon observing disruptive events such as heinous acts against other races, genocide, or war, mediators must report to their superiors while simultaniously investigating the underlying cause. Furthermore, if it is not possible to secure the support of the council in such matters, mediators must exercise their judgment as per the limitations and possibilities afforded for the particular situation and attempt to achieve a peaceful resolution.

Article three, clause three.

This provision lives on even now as a mediator's sole guiding principle.

Maybe I've been treading on thin ice by sparking blooms of urban development and introducing the concept of hunting to the fairies.

So, it can't be bad that the fairies have stabilized themselves into a low-tech state.

That's right. It isn't stagnation; it's stability. Hooray for stability.

Let the fairies maintain themselves at this level. That is undoubtedly the right path.

It'll make it easier to track their movements too.

"Prey spotted!"

One fairy raises its voice.

Where it points is a papercraft mammoth basking in the sunlight.

"Oh, a mammoth. From what they call the fifth age, I presume. Ufufu. I wonder which side would win if we pitted them against the dinosaurs."

I pose a rather childish question.

One fairy answers without missing a beat.

"Oh, the 'saurs all died."

In but a single night, the time of the mammals has come! (I'm super thrown off at this)

History has advanced while I wasn't looking. By several millions of years, no less.

Anyhow, a quadratic function is a function whose value is proportional to the square of its inputs, isn't it? (I'm saying a perfectly logical thing right now, but my mind is a mess)

"It's way too fast... The ages are just zipping by..."

I should have known when I saw those strange birds.

Seriously, the new mankind has been quite unpredictable these days.

"Right then, let's get on with the hunt!" "A Huntuntunt!" "I'll herd it to the trap over there." "GOgoGOgoGOgo...."

The assault begins.

The spears whizz through the air and sink into the mammoth.

The mammoth in turn, lets out a trumpeting cry, and makes to run the other way -- right into the mouth of a pitfall trap.

The rest happens as usual.

The attacks continue until the mammoth's last breath, when Mr. Cap, wearing his signature origami buffallo-skull lands the killing blow.

The fairies crowd in expectantly and take the mammoth apart.

And what they found within is...

"...Have I seen this elsewhere?"

A home-made waffle wrapped in an airtight cover to keep it fresh.

The wrapper is covered in familiar drawings of cute fairies doing various things...

"That's one hundred percent something I made, isn't it?!"

I feel like I've just lost all my money to a rigged lottery.

This world... somehow, it seems very small now.

"Whassamatter? It's a big catch, ya know?"

"No, nothing's wrong... I'm just a little tired."

If I were to hazard a guess, what was stolen by the deinonychus corps has been passed down the food chain, and has finally appeared from within this mammoth.

"Take it as a gift of gratitude? Our gratitude?"

"... Thaaaanks."

What a hollow gift I have been given, a waffle I made in the first place.

I tear open the wrapper and take a bite, an uncouth, inelegant bite.

It's somewhat dampened, but the world's tastiest grid pattern fills my mouth in a localized burst of joy.

"Makes me want some black tea..."

I think I'd be able to gulp it all down if there were some right now.

"All right, let's fold it up!" "Fold it, fold it!" "The collection's expanding nicely, isn't it!" "Turning it into a box and putting candy in is fun?" "I'm cutting more!" "Seems like we really like hunting, huh?"

It would be nice if these fairies didn't evolve in some weird direction, though.

"Inn the Moooorniiiiing Suuuuuun, Aaaaas it Shooooould, the Maaaaammoooooooth, it Gliiiiiiistennnnnnns, AAAnd A FOUR!"

A loud victory song is sung on the march back.

Again, I spot it within a gap in the thicket.

It seems I'm quite adept at finding peculiar things.

Ahhhh.... Just how can I describe my mental state right now?

It's hard to describe my feelings.

I've got a bad feeling about this.

I mean - how can I not, after seeing this thing in the thicket?

That thing I tend to spot every now and then.

That thing - how do I say this - it's lightly clothed and is holding something that looks like a certain tool...

"Ah, uh... um"

Inside my brain, the pieces of this puzzle are coming together - they all point to one thing and one thing only.

That weird bio-paper-balloon I saw at the office.

The dinosaurs.

That strange five-centimeter-sized bird.

That dreadful twenty centimeter thing.

The mammoth.

And what I saw just now...

"Right then, let's just pretend I never saw anything."

"Saw what now?"

"Ah, no, it has nothing to do with you, don't worry about it!"

"?"

I feel bad for saying that to the fairy, who is standing there with its head inclined, but I can see where this whole thing is going now.

It is likely -- no, definitely -- a papercraft model of a proto-human that I see inside the thicket.

I come home to find a truly delicious dinner waiting for me.

French fries and golden fried whitefish in a cabbage salad.

After I fulfill my needs, I confide in Grandfather about what I have seen.

"There's a word for people like you..."

Grandfather supports his forehead in his hand and sighs.

"This mess has gone way beyond just interference in another race's affairs, you know."

"I'm sorry. But I'm glad we could have this conversation. I wouldn't have been able to stand the anxiety if I kept it to myself."

"You should have told me all this before you ate; before, I tell you."

"Yeeesss"

"Honestly. You should have realized it back when you saw the dinosaurs. You should know from what happened last time that they like to recreate things that old humanity also did".

"You are summarily correct, and I have not a single excuse."

"Are you worried about the tools they were carrying?

Yes... They were only rudimentary, but... Those tools... they were most definitely..."

I throw into the conversation the name of a tool I use regularly.

"They were holding whisks."

---

I show up at the village early in the morning this time.

As I approach the savanna, my unease only grows.

"They're all gone..."

All signs of the papercraft animals are gone now.

It's dead silent, and it feels like I have time-traveled back to when the savanna had first appeared.

Very unnatural.

I head to the village in the hope that I can get to the bottom of it all.

"It's still there... thank goodness."

The village stands -- as it always has -- before me.

The fairies are still there too.

"Harro!" "Ms. Human!" "G'day, eh?" "Are you jobless today too?"

"Hello, hello!"

Mr. Cap is here too.

"Good morning, Mr. Cap."

"... You talkin' to me?"

This fairy, who has an origami helmet on, inclines his head, and his entire body as well.

"I'm not Mr. Cap though?"

"Huh? But..."

But he looks exactly... Or not; they all look the same to me.

But this guy's probably the only one here who's wearing such an eccentric hat.

"Oh my... You had such a tan before, so why is your skin so strangely pale now?"

"It's a reflection of my innocence."

Does he think I'm complementing him? He's beaming.

"Is it even possible to reverse a tan like this? Then again, I'm talking about you guys."

"We're most definitely ourselves!"

"I see."

"By the way, I'm Helmet now."

"You've changed your name?"

"Life is full of nuance, see."

"That's a rather aggressive life you're living."

"It's aggressively aggressive!"

"Fighting poses are all well and good, but you can't hunt anymore, do you realize that? There are no animals around."

"Huh?" It doesn't seem like he understands. "Why?!"

"It seems like they've gone extinct."

"It's gonna be troublesome if they're extinct!"

"Are you sure you haven't just hunted them to extinction?"

"But we didn't do it all that much..."

"I don't think so; I'm sure you've been hunting them behind my back. You just don't remember it."

"Oho?"

I get a carefree response, as usual.

"I knew it; you can't hunt in the sixth period now."

"What's the sixth period?"

"Neanderthals and other ape people, it would probably be called something like the 'Primate series' wouldn't it?"

I explain what I have seen in the thicket to them.

"They are ten centimeters tall, and what's more, they look like people, you know."

It's all paper, though.

"And the fact that they have tools means they're quite intelligent, so... Even if they're papercraft, they're going to be tough to beat."

"I don't get what the problem is," says a fairy.

"Oho."

"We've got lots of waffles left. And a ton of other snacks too. So we don't need to hunt right now."

They're living entirely in the present.

"So anyway... We're singing today too. Join us, Ms. Human!"

"Sweets!" "Songs!" "Laaa, laaa laaaaaaa!"

The fairies are carrying large amounts of candy.

Mixed in are varieties of sweets I've never even seen before.

My interest is piqued.

"... If you insist."

The time passes sweetly.

I should make sure to bring a tea set next time. Having tea with sweets is ingrained into my very genes, and not teaching the fairies about this beautiful culture is something I can't abide by.

"By the way, they call this kind of thing the gluttony period."

"Oho~"

Incorrigible as always, these fairies.

If you guys aren't careful, some other race may rise up and overthrow you."

"For real?"

TAAATATARAAAAAA

A new race on the rise begins its assault.

Somebody cries out: "Eeek! Enemies?!"

The villagers fall into a panic. They're running around like headless chickens.

Teamwork is out of the window.

They haven't a single measure in place, and the invaders encounter no resistance as a result.

Instantly, the village is on the brink of pandemonium.

"AAAuughh!" "EEEeeeeeeeek!" "Waaaaaaaaahh!" "Enemieeeees!" "They're heeeeere!" "Escaaaaape!"

The attackers are the papercraft primitive people.

No, I hesitate to call them that; they're a battle-hardened military force.

Not of flesh and blood. But they are armed.

With spears of paper and bamboo strips, paper helmets and paper armor.

A civilization of the paper-age, not stone.

"Also... Are those... Horses?"

They've domesticated papercraft horses and taken them as their steeds.

Horseback riding changes the battle to an unimaginable extent.

The weaponry differs too.

At a glance, the fairies have nothing but simple spears.

This is because their style doesn't require technology more advanced than that.

As for the paper primitive people, they're covered from head to toe in advanced armor.

And that armor isn't made of simple paper either.

That's right. They're using cardboard.

Cardboard - the strongest kind of paper.

It's physically strong and can be used to wrap any manner of heavy-weight item.

Our legends tell us of its widespread use by old humanity at its peak, for example, as bedding, or even housing.

It's hard to see how one could live inside cardboard, though.

"Flimsy paper can't possibly compare to the might of cardboard," I proclaim.

"Hoho!"

"You're pretty relaxed, aren't you, even at a time like this."

"Coz it ain't my problem?"

What a rebel.

"But, maybe one day, you'll be in trouble too."

A belated defense line has now taken shape in the village square.

But the fairies, who don't know how to fight and have inferior weapons are just kicked about by the cavalry.

"AAAaaaaah!" "Too strong!" "Too hard!" "Good golly!" "We're no match!" "Run for it!" "EEEeek!" "Nein!"

And so, the fairies are dispersed. Ah- ah- ah- ah...

The horsemen are approaching me as well.

"Look, they're here."

"They're what?!"

"You'd better escape, or you'll get bullied too!"

"I s'pose I will? Will I see you again, Ms. Human?"

"Maybe at the next festival."

"I seee!"

If you were to knock the anger (怒) and grief (哀) out of the Japanese word for all emotions, 「喜怒哀楽」 (composed of kanji for joy, anger, grief and humor), the rest would describe the look on his face as he attempts to give himself whiplash.

"See you later then."

And with that, he's gone like the wind.

It seems the raiders aren't interested in humans, so they pass me by and run around, laying waste to the village.

Seeing one of them using a mammoth tusk as a spear, I realize it.

The fairies weren't the only ones doing the hunting.

There were likely many other large creatures in parts of the savanna I hadn't seen, weren't there?

All the animals probably went extinct due to the high hunting pressure exerted by the two races.

As a result, the two hunting tribes were the only ones left on the savanna.

Conflict was inevitable.

And now, the fairies have been eliminated in the final round.

The fairies are being driven over the fence and out into the savanna, one at a time.

Their tents have been razed, their deity desecrated, and even the few sweets they had saved up have been stolen, piled up in the center of the village square, and fenced off.

This is what the end of a civilization looks like.

"How heartless!"

The end of an era.

I give a small, heartfelt wave to my tiny friends who are escaping.

"Stay well, everyone!"

---

"Oi, granddaughter."

"Ugh" - Even as a refined maiden, I tend to unintentionally groan when I am interrupted while writing things.

"... What is it?"

"Why the long face?"

It's because my displeasure tends to show.

I would rather my mood be referred to as "an elegant melancholy" instead.

"Please get off my back. What is it?"

"Guess what - there's a rumor going around town about some strange sightings in the ruins.

"What do you mean by strange sightings?"

Grandfather looks at me with suspicion.

"Elephants and tigers made of paper roaming around, that's what."

[......]

Grandfather and I stare each other down.

"Did you go see what they were up to today?"

"No, I was busy writing... Also, it's strange. The fairies were dispersed. There shouldn't be anyone left to make more papercraft."

"I know that already, but were they really all scattered? Based on what you told me, the mammal series shouldn't even have been released."

"They really did disperse, I tell you! Right before my eyes. They were caught on the wrong ends of the paper peoples' spears."

"Hrm, so it's unconfirmed, but these new fauna are apparently still being manufactured."

"I also believe so. I mean, I never saw where the fairies were making the papercraft after all."

"It's obvious; the fairies are making them."

"That primitive paper person from the other day was holding a crude whisk, you know."

"Hmmm"

tt

"And the same kind showed up again yesterday, as nomads on horseback. Perfectly natural, no?"

"Right, right. If you get to the point where you've got domestic animals tilling the land, the maximum number of people you can support just explodes.

"Because they'd have lots of food, isn't it?"

"This kind of production capacity leaves hunter-gatherers in the dust. Consequently, such an agrarian society can even support professions on the level of kings or priests. And that allows them a militaristic disposition to rival that of hunter-gatherers, who are used to only hunting. Agrarian civilizations tend to be comparatively more fiendish and barbaric. Also, agriculture brings about new developments in tools, like birthing the use of iron or bronze. Once horses are trained enough to be ridden into battle, such a civilization will bear its fangs toward others. It's a series of events that's repeated itself surprisingly often. Perhaps it was always inevitable. As for the hunter-gatherers, their impartial civil structure prevents individuals from assuming absolute control over everything. Because it's hard to preserve food, and wealth cannot be concentrated as a result. In terms of this example-"

"Yeahhhh, totally, very true, very very true~"

Grandfather's age sometimes shows, and I need to force him back on track when that happens.

"Uhhgh"

Grandfather, whose spiel got cut off abruptly, looks at me with a groan. Ahh, is it him I take after?

... So, what's the part that's got your gears turning?"

"Don't the paper people eat candy?"

The papersaurs ingested sweets due to the whims of the fairies.

Every single model of these series is like that.

Then, it follows that the primates behave the same way as well.

Looks like Grandfather is beginning to catch on. I state my conclusion.

"The fairies can't make sweets. Neither can the dinosaurs. But what if the paper people could make them?"

Grandfather is immediately hit with the realization.

"Whisks... So that's why!"

"Isn't this exactly like an agrarian society?"

"Mhmmmm, hmmm..."

These paper people, who have filled their stomachs through farming, are free to pursue their own interests, resulting in specialisations such as the military.

I bet they found those paper whisks hard to use.

So soon, they created water-resistant paper, and then their technology improved to the point of using cardboard.

"Uh huh, this is a prime example of cause and effect."

"Looks like the faeries' skill at papercraft was their undoing. Perhaps they were in over their heads with it all."

"That's fine, perhaps. Fairies are different from us humans, after all."

Grandfather looks meditative as he rests his hip on the windowsill.

I join him and look up at the refreshingly blue sky.

"The papercraft rabble will clear right up once the fairies are gone, I think."

"True."

I can see the entire village from this third-floor office.

"...Hmm? Someone's coming over."

"A guest?"

A tall figure is ambling up the road to the building.

Their gait is somewhat clumsy.

They spot us looking from the third floor and give us a wave.

"Uhm, pardon me. I'm looking for the local UNMC office?" They yell.

"You're looking right at it!" Grandfather yells back.

Right, I'll let him handle it then.

I rush back to my desk with my head down.

Grandfather exchanges a few words with the traveler and then turns around - "Hey, this has something to do with you. They'll be here soon."

"Huh? Me?"

"Got any idea why?"

I shake my head from side to side with gusto. There's barely anyone I know in the village even.

Soon, there's a knock at the office door.

"I don't know what's going on, but go entertain them."

"Awa-wa-wa-a-a-a"

My mind turns blank at Grandfather's unreasonable demand. I wave my arms wildly in an appeal to my helplessness, but nothing changes.

I suppose I should go greet our guest at the door.

My hand shakes as I open the door.

"Yuh-yes, this is the Mediation Council..."

I recoil as the door opens.

They are wearing a mask under their sombrero.

A crude drawing of a face. It's got a somewhat ethnic look to it.

And they're wearing a poncho that comes down to their ankles.

"Wuh-wh-what in the?!"

"Ah, my clothing? My apologies. It is a part of our identity. Just think of it as my out-doors outfit," says a muffled voice from under the mask.

"O-okay..."

I don't know how to respond to this.

"Hoho, could this be some form of South American protective charm?"

Grandfather accosts the person, full of curiosity.

"Yes, when I made the mask, I also incorporated bits from South America's ancient civilizations."

"Hrrrmmm, looks like it's inspired by things discovered from the hanging gardens."

"You're quite well-read; nobody would think your species is on the path to retirement."

"Oh, it's just a hobby of mine." Grandfather beckons our guest inside. "Sorry about the mess."

"No, no. Then, pardon my intrusion."

"Oi, can you do something about the lamps?"

"Ah, yes!"

Ahh, that dark, confined space I was aiming to turn into 'my nook' will be used for its original purpose now...

Grandfather and I sit side-by-side, facing the masked person.

"So, which village are you from?"

Ah, I'm from the foot of that hill nearby. I'd come over just recently."

"That's quite close... It's about a few hours to go one way, isn't it?"

"Perhaps I will greet the others of your village later."

"We're all quite laid-back. Come visit any time."

"I'm grateful. I hope I can get along with everyone.

"Oi, make yourself useful and serve up some tea."

Grandfather gives me an order, but the masked person raises their hand to stop me.

Ah, no, thank you. Our kind doesn't really subscribe to that custom. Only certain very specific foods and drinks can be offered to visitors in our culture."

"Quite a unique culture... Are you from an ethnic minority?"

"Well, it's something like that. The gist is that I am restricted in what I can eat."

"Hohoh, I'd love to ask you about the details later. I'm rather fond of such things."

"Oh, certainly."

"Umm, did... did you have some business with me?" I ask in a barely audible whisper.

The mask responds. Such a strange person. They exude an uncanny pressure.

"Yes, I heard you are a renowned pâtissier?"

"Wh- Wahhhhh?!"

I'm a pâtissier?!

"We're particularly fond of sweet things, so... I came to ask if there was any way for you to make some for us..."

"I-I'm n-not so great to be called a pati- not at all!"

I bow lightly with my hands between my thighs.

"Such qualifications don't really exist nowadays. But still, my granddaughter isn't half-bad at making sweets and the like."

Even so, such rumors have reached our village. Rumors that you can make the most delicious of sweets."

"No... I'm... not..."

I hang my head even further down.

I want to just curl up in bed...

We can provide you with whatever ingredients you wish, so if you could make something with them... and also if we could establish a commercial relationship... We would be much obliged."

"Oi, didn't you bring some sweets with you today? You made some this morning, didn't you?" Grandfather says as he remembers.

"... There's a bit of fruit cake..."

"Wonderful things like fruit cakes... Such perishables are hard to come by..."

"Can you share some with our guest?"

"Ah... then, I'll do that!"

I trot to my basket, bring it back, take out three wrapped slices of cake, and thrust them forward, still in their wrapping paper.

A seasonal fruit tart.

I made this pound cake with wild strawberries at the center and various freeze-dried nuts and berries on the side.

The cream has a hint of banana in it. Because the dry fruits don't have much in the freshness department, I made liberal use of the wild strawberries.

"A portable shrine! You have a portable shrine!"

"A what now?!"

"It's not such a special thing... you don't need to go so far...."

"I'm so moved. Ahh, what a wonderful luster! Yes, I can't wait any longer. I shall partake at once."

They slide their mask a little to the side, tear a bit of the cake off with their fingers and push the piece into their mouth.

"Oh... Ohhhhhhhh! Delicious, utterly delicious!"

"... Thank you."

I don't eat such sweets often, but does your tribe like such sweet things a lot?" asks Grandfather.

"But of course! One could say it is our very lifeblood. Ahh, a little more... Just a little more..."

The masked person demolishes two of the cakes in an instant.

"Ah, I would love to eat one more... But I need to let the others have a taste as well."

"Please consume it quickly... It is a very perishable item, after all."

Though the cakes are wrapped in non-breathable paper for preservation, they still don't last for more than a few days.

"That's right, isn't it. I have many more questions for you, but... I must take this home quickly. Also, if you could... Please consider that matter we talked about earlier."

"... Huh?"

Grandfather elbows me.

"They're talking about trading with you."

"Trade..."

Indeed. We possess unique technology. In particular, we have restored the technology required to obtain specific materials that are difficult to find nowadays."

"Materials to make sweets with?"

"Indeed, exactly."

The village this person hails from is rather strange.

Most other villages have their hands full sustaining themselves, so luxury items are not much of a focus.

"... If you have many ingredients... It would help me a lot. Uhm, about that... I agree."

"So you will partner with us?"

"Yes."

"Splendid..." The masked person stands up with vigor, and trembles. They seem to be shivering with joy.

"I must return to my village and inform the others post-haste!"

"Ah, so you're returning?"

"Yes! I'm loath to leave, but I cannot impose on you any further today. I must return before this treasure hardens."

They are holding the cake as if it were something precious.

"Please, spend a while the next time."

"Then, people of the Mediation Council! Until next time."

The masked person leaves the office in a flurry.

"Hahhhhh..."

The pressure lightens on me. I breathe a sigh of relief.

"You're still not over your shyness, eh?"

"That aside... Grandfather, did you notice it? Back when they lifted their mask..."

"... Hm, ahh, that?"

We glance at each other and open our mouths at the same time.

"Looked papery." "Their lips were papery."

I want to think that can't be right.

I want to think so, but I also know it is the undeniable truth.

I had been under the impression that the papersauruses and the paper animals were all made as successive series.

Anyone would think that.

But there was one thing I had forgotten.

They were all extremely complex paper organisms.

They could remain active for ridiculously long periods, with incredible finesse, driven only by the unbelievably simple power of stretched rubber bands.

Consequently, it is not out of the realm of possibility that new mechanisms of greater sophistication would also exist.

For example, ones with the ability to reproduce, or the mechanism of evolution.

"Come to think of it... That trash you spotted back then, Grandfather."

"No, stop, don't even think about it."

Are you okay with leaving this be?"

"All they want to do is trade in peace, isn't it fine? And you, you can make as many confectionaries as you wish now," says Grandfather.

"I suppose... but... perhaps... those paper animals witnessed in the ruins..."

"What will be, will be. Give it up," Grandfather utters expressionlessly.

"Ahahahhahahaha..."

I sink back down on the sofa.

From the door the masked person had left open when they exited, a strange papery butterfly gracefully flits by.

Fairy Memo: Balling up

When a fairy is attacked by an enemy, or is startled by a loud noise, it defends itself by folding its body up into a ball. This phenomenon is known as balling up.

Fairies are usually too fast, but they are easily caught when balled up.

When balled up, they are not concious, and enter a sort of hibernative state.

They return to normal after a few minutes. However, when they do, they appear to lose any memories of what caused them to ball up in the first place.

How wonderous!

April Monthly Report

1. First Half

With the appointment of a new employee, the village administration of Camphorwood has initiated communications with fairy mankind (hereby, the fairies) and human mankind.

It was initially expected that establishing a dialog with fairies, who occupy a wide area and never settle, would be difficult.

Based on that employee's plan, a new collection method was implemented. As a result, four fairies were successfully contacted.

Communications were thus established with utmost tranquility and legitimacy, and there were no problems.

Although these four fairies had unique individual discriminators, they could not necessarily be accurately distinguished when mixed with large numbers of their kind.

To remedy this, the employee proceeded to give the four fairies names. Due to their customary lack of names, the fairies gladly accepted and treated them with curiosity, as was characteristic of their race.

The dialog proceeded smoothly, with the fairies adopting the names Cap, Nakata, Fishroll, and Sir. Christopher McFarlane (see Figure I).

Figure I: Mr. Nakata (right) and Mr. Fishroll (left)

After this, the fairies, who were in the dispersal stage, shifted to that of aggregation.

It is believed that most of the fairies living in the neighboring regions were also attracted, significantly increasing their population density.

Due to this, an abnormal rise in the fairies' cultural and scientific standards was observed.

When this occurred, a gigantic play city was created overnight, which spoke to the extent of their numbers.

The concerned employee observed these developments with caution and restraint.

At times, the employee was also asked to participate in the fairies' games; regional interaction proceeded favorably, and absolutely no problems were encountered.

As documented in existing research reports, the aggregation stage was relatively short (roughly five to seven days) and soon transitioned into the dispersal stage.

These figures result from the minimal regard the fairies customarily express towards their own creations.

In addition, the week-long time interval calculated was consistent with the figures recorded in Camphorwood's own historical records, lending the data more credence.

However, this time, the transition occurred within an unprecedented span; the fairies reverted to the dispersal stage after roughly two days.

While the reason for this is actively being investigated, there is no clear solution in sight.

While there is no denying the possibility of any misconduct on the employee's part, it would be prudent to consider the existence of other unknown causes as well.

Care must be taken to prevent human culture from unduly influencing fairy culture, which advances rapidly in the aggregation stage.

In particular, the evils unique to humanity -- such as serious crimes -- are considered extremely hazardous to the fairies, who have highly advanced technology at their disposal.

Excessive interference in fairy affairs not only contravenes the guidelines set by the Mediation Council but also makes the job of a mediator proportionally more difficult.

From such a perspective, there were honestly no problems at all in the cognizance of the concerned employee, and there was no transmission of concepts such as highly influential cult-like religion at all; such things were completely out of the question indeed.

2. Final Half

Following the first half, a second aggregation event was confirmed to have occurred in the second half.

An artificial savanna environment was discovered that appeared to cut through some old high-rise ruins four kilometers down Camphorwood's seventh trade road.

Upon investigation by the concerned employee, it was found that a large group of fairies had established a pseudo-primitive society within the savanna.

Once again, the fairies named Nakata and Fishroll were seen in the area.

Their lifestyle appeared to imitate "the dawn of humanity" and is conjectured to be the product of "human mimicry" which is characteristic of the fairy race.

Figure II

Also residing on the savanna was a large population of imitation dinosaurs (there is no evidence pointing to the coexistence of dinosaurs and humans at any point in history, but such things are regarded as one of the maxims of fairy-kind) made of papercraft (See figure II).

Powered only by the force of contracting rubber bands, these papercraft creations appeared simple, but their immensely complex internal structure reaffirmed assessments of how technologically advanced the fairies were.

These dinosaurs were observed by the concerned employee, who was on their way to deliver a gift (of various confectionaries) as a gesture of friendship.

Furthermore, no fairies were harmed in the ensuing interaction, and there were absolutely no problems whatsoever.

After this, it was found that the papercraft dinosaurs had the propensity to hide precious items, such as sweets, within their bodies. This resulted in the fairies becoming aware of the concept of hunting. Since the papercraft dinosaurs were autonomous, the only way to stop them and acquire the hidden sweets was to physically dismantle them.

The violent custom of hunting was most definitely not instilled by the concerned employee, and there were absolutely no problems of any kind.

Again, nothing beyond the limits of a hunting game occurred, and there appears to be nothing particularly alarming about any of these developments.

Observation was halted once the transition to the dispersion phase occurred.

In addition, owing to the large number of papercraft creatures released into the savanna, a portion of them have managed to survive the swell in hunting pressure and still remain.

Though some specimens may have spread outside the confines of the ruins, there are absolutely no risks, and considering that they are made only of paper, it is likely that they will soon cease to function.

However, there still exists the possibility that the papercraft may evolve some functionality to preserve their state of activity. In the long term, the possibility of witnessing nonsense such as evolution, various mutations, or natural selection from henceforth is not zero. As an intercessor with the viewpoint of non-interference, who is not directly related to any of these developments, it is my earnest hope that such developments will converge without issue and there will be no problems in the future.

Afterword

Hello! Tanaka Romeo, here.

Many of you may not know this pen-name.

In the interest of a healthy future on your part, please do not look it up on the net.

In particular, it may become a crime at any moment now for a person born in the Heisei era to look up my pen-name.

Please exercise caution.

In a few words, I would say my job is to "create text data for use in appication software for Windows"; I suppose you could call me a trader of sorts.

I think that should do for an introduction.

Please treat me well!

The people of the Gagaga Bunko editorial department (If I hadn't met with them by chance, this book would have never been written) were a very intense crowd.

As someone who predicted that "the books they seek to publish would surely be full of some outrageous stuff" in my Hiroshima dialect, I, alone, endeavored to create a dark horse with a clean literary style...

But this novel is the result of me making some mistakes, and putting a weirder spin on things.

This style of writing is referred to as a "spin-out" (that's a lie).

The plan at first had been to make something with a touch of young adult literature, as a set of cookie-cutter short stories that could be published in volumes.

It had been intended as a series with no need for things like foreshadowing, fine composition, characters overflowing with charm, or logical plotlines.

It was meant to be a truly laid-back novel that was supposed to be displayed in elementary school libraries, that would scream, "Everyone! I didn't insert any of my own thoughts into this book!"

If it had really been written that way as a dark horse work, I could very well have been crowned a larger-than-life king of literature. Like that author of a certain world renowned magic-school novel series.

But unfortunately, while it seems that literary commoner blood runs thick in my veins, perhaps it could also be said that I am free to go wherever my ideas take me.

And so, I think things are fine as they are.

Regarding the title

I was aiming to create something that would sell even though the title didn't match the contents, in a similar vein to the solution to the problem of why the bamboo pole vendor never goes out of business.

Regarding Charisma

I noticed that Gagaga Bunko used the word "Charisma" as a catchphrase on its website and in other places. Of course, I am a rather charismatic man myself. Mine is the charisma of one who borrows from both living, breathing humans, and from inanimate machines in order to stay alive. This is evident from the pained expression my acquaintances have when they say to me, "You sure are charismatic, huh?"

Speaking of borrowing things, I've done that way too much in my life, haven't I.

There's a lot of things I've borrowed. I've borrowed, and borrowed, then borrowed some more. Oh, and sometimes, I've returned what I borrowed.

At times when it was impossible to repay someone, I would borrow from somewhere else to make up the difference. In accordance with that groundbreaking quasi-perpetual motion machine (the bycicle system). That charismatic style has caused my parents' eyes to tear up as well, but I will leave such graphic monetary discussion for later.

I hope you youngsters of the Heisei era will take care not to fall into such a life.

Regarding Shougakukan

I myself am astonished at the fact that I can work with the Shougakukan!

About Shougakukan, they're an authoritative bookmaker with a dazzling line of books for *drumrolls* first to fourth year elementary school students, as well as educational technology for first year elementary school.

They're a giant among giants, a real mega-corp, and they really make you feel like you're a part of something big!

Surely elementary and middle school students will read this book... Or rather, I hope they will read this book.

After I read that again, I feel like I sound rather creepy.

I think authors whose works are read even by elementary school students live in the kingdom of light.

If possible, I would also like to write about juvenile things such as defeating great evil with marbles, or tops, or toy cars.

Regarding the future

Lately, my main job's schedule has picked up its pace and made things rather difficult.

This time around I had a speck of time off, so the angel of free time swooped down to me and whispered "You've finally got some hard-won free time, so how about you use it to write a novel instead of sitting around with your mouth open?" to me like a tsundere, so I did my best and wrote this book.

And then I ended up working 24/7. I got scammed, I tell you.

I intend to continue writing sequels for this book, more or less. I will continue to write them, to be precise. As many as I feel like writing.

That's why I've left some plot threads blatantly unresolved! (Such things won't make waves without me writing about them.)

I hope to see you again, if fortune permits it.

Until then, because I'm doing my best to aim for the elementary school library shelves, I would like to ask for the survey cards you send to include some favorable comments about this book.

Of course, you are welcome to send any harsh criticisms you may have via telepathy directly to me.

Until next time, then.

Editorial Note: First edition published in May, 2007. Second edition published in November, 2011.

Translator's Notes and References

Main Page