MaruMA:Volume05:Chapter3

Chapter 3

Why are you apologizing? What are you apologizing for? To whom are you apologizing?!

I couldn't even sleep in peace with those overly heavy words on my mind. My eyes burned like fire, and my eyelids kept having little spasms as if I had been forced to endure something against my will.

"... ugh it's heavy... it's really too heavy..."

To put it plainly, the lower half of my body felt heavy.

The skin on my arms and legs felt oddly stretched and hurt as if they were sunburned. I guess that wasn't really so surprising as I'd been slogging away at the beach house/M-Family guesthouse to earn money for my baseball team. It definitely was not all for getting a girlfriend and having a summer romance.

And I was wearing that seaside costume. There was no way I wouldn't get sunburned. This well-browned baseball boy ended up being adored by two college girls that had come to the beach to have fun - what a situation! I'd spread oil on their backs, and oil on their stomachs, and oil on their thighs... I can't think of anything past that point though. This lack of imagination ability was due to the fact that I'd never been hit on by a girl before.

That's right, that thing had gotten washed away and stuck in the grotto. I'd been asked to fetch that lemon yellow brassiere.

"... What do you mean, 'brassiere?'"

Like the time I had an eye infection, my vision was obstructed by thin grey veil. Because of that, even though I'm sprawled on the ground and staring at the sky, the sun wasn't bright. I felt the wet sand on my back and the wind smelled like the salt.

It's the ocean.

Slowly the rest of my memories returned.

As usual, I'd been washed away into the foreign world and as usual, I'd been rescued by my tutor and my guardian. And I'd also had a dumb parent's reunion with my daughter that had gotten all the more adorable. But what waited after was an unbelievable nightmare.

I felt a cold wave hit my outstretched left arm. It came at me with a roar, touched me, and then pulled away.

"Günter?"

I called aloud, but no one was there to answer me.

"... Conrad."

I shook my head a few times, rubbing the back of my head against the sand. They're not dead. They are definitely alive.

I had seen Conrad's severed arm, but then I got caught in the collapsing earth so I couldn't see what happened to him.

He was definitely alive!

That being said, I had definitely fallen off of a cliff so how exactly was I on the beach? Did I seriously have the monster luck to go through a Star Tours like that? If so, then surely any minute Murata would be bending over me and saying 'oh, Shibuya, I thought you'd been washed away' and then throwing his arms around my neck in a way that would invite misinterpretation.

But I didn't see anyone around and there was no danger of someone catching me in string bikini underwear. I tensed my stomach muscles and pulled my head up with a jerk. The ash-colored mud that had stuck to my skin had dried out and was cracking and flaking off.

This full-body mud pack for ladies was why my skin felt stretched out.

"I'm not that fashionable... ah!"

And suddenly I knew why my lower half felt so terribly heavy. My crotch had undergone a colossal transformation.

"W-w-w-why are my pubes blonde?!"

A clump of blonde hair bulged out of the pants I'd gotten from the drunk in the bar. And the clump was giant!

"Uuuh..."

"It talked! My pubic hair talked! Wait, Murata?!"

The blonde hair had a neck and shoulders and past that, a naked back. With his sunglasses still propped on his head, Murata propped his hands in the sand and swung his head up.

"I'm alive!"

"... Yeah, you're incredibly alive... Why exactly were you shoving your face in my crotch?"

"I got saved."

"What do you mean, you got saved? You weren't in any danger."

My friend pressed a hand to his forehead and worry wrinkles appeared between his eyebrows.

"Ah but, I can't remember us drifting out to sea at all."

"Why are you saying something dramatic like drifting out to sea?"

"Shibuya, do you know where we are?"

"Where? The M-Family beachhouse area-..."

I did a full 360 looking around, but not only could I not see a single beach umbrella, there were no trace of any guests. Only sand as far as the eye could see. Sea and sand. There were neither vending machines nor shower huts. It didn't even smell like burnt yakisoba sauce.

"That's strange... I really should be back on Earth again..."

"Aha, so you’re confused too. There's no way we've drifted out to sea on an interplanetary scale. But you know, Shibuya, you kept sinking down more and more after you managed to grab the bikini top like you had a leg cramp or something. I came in to save you, but then I went under myself and I got carried away, too. This is like someone pillaging a mummy's tomb and ending up a mummy themself. Hamunaptra would be put to shame."

"I don't want to hear about tigers!"

Murata straightened his blue sunglasses and after regaining his full vision, he peered around at our surroundings. He must have been satisfied by something in his mind because he gave a small nod.

"Hmm. Looks like a deserted island."

"You came to that conclusion way too fast."

Groaning in a way that strips him of his high school student credentials, Murata stood up on the beach. Maybe it was because he was chilled by the wind, but he rubbed his arms as if he just remembered that he was cold.

"Looks like we've drifted pretty far from summer Japan to this chilly island."

"It's no wonder you're cold. You still haven't got anything on but that apron."

"Hey, not everyone can have such a classy leather jacket as you. Where the heck did you get that? It looks totally filthy with all that mud, though. Now are you listening? From now on we're going to have to share everything with each other, got it? When I was in middle school, I never imagined that I'd end up living with you on a deserted island. It can't be helped now that it's happened. I'm Robinson and you're Crusoe."

Choosing not to comment on the fact that those two names refer to the same person, I have to give him credit for his optimism. While he plodded along the sand dunes, he was already busy planning the construction of a shelter, how to make us some clothing, agricultural concerns, even what shifts we would take if we got hold of some livestock.

I loaned him Conrad's jacket so he would stop freezing. A bikini and a leather jacket. This is yet another outfit that has academically broken the rules.

To think that Murata would be the first person I saw (pseudo) naked in a leather jacket. As a high school boy, this is just too cruel.

I'm wearing aprons in front and back. Even though my pants are borrowed, I'm better off than him.

All that aside, where is this?

Why was Murata brought along to this place I was sent by mistake? In the first place, why couldn't I return to that place and time like always? Did I make some irreparable mistake without realizing and mess everything up?

We crossed a hillside, our feet sinking into the sand. On the other side we could see houses that presumably belonged to some kind of settlement. It looked kind of like a seaside fishing village. Fishing nets and seaweed hung from the gutters to dry.

"... What about this is a deserted island?"

"Oh heck! Well, I guess that's it for my cool Robinson Crusoe plan."

A young lady with a straw hat and laundry under her arm came walking towards us.

"First and foremost, I have discovered an islander~."

"Shibuya, your vision was 2-0, wasn't it? So confirm this with those amazing numbers. No matter what way I look at her, she's a foreigner with blonde hair and brown eyes, isn't she?"

"Sounds about right."

"Oh my god! Have we been washed away to a European resort!?"

No, it could also be America. In any case, let's try English first.

Following the rules of courtesy, I took off my baseball cap and tried to knock the worst of the dried mud off myself. Awkwardly, I raised my right hand.

"Ha-hallooo."

It was very Japanese-y Katakana English.

The woman's light brown eyes widened and she let her bundle of laundry fall. She tried to point at me and failed and then started whispering with trembling lips.

"Bla... black..."

Stumbling over her own feet, she ran back in the direction she came.

Oh no! I know this reaction. The woman had recognized me as a mazoku because of my hair and eye color and ran away. No matter how far away from Japan we ended up, there was nowhere on Earth that people would have that reaction.

In short, I was still in the world that contained Shin Makoku.

A world where mazoku and humans opposed each other and where being discriminated against just by appearance was commonplace. And it wasn't my friendly country. This was a region that was severe on traveling mazoku, a territory in which I was despised.

"What just happened there, Shibuya? You've got one powerfull 'hello!'"

"Now is not the time to stand around yammering. This is bad, Murata. That woman is going to tell everyone. In the blink of an eye, the rumor is gonna spread. Damn, and all that just because I have black hair and black eyes."

"Huh? Didn't I ask you to do an image change with me?"

"I said now's not the time! Listen very carefully and stay calm. We are neither in Europe nor in America. We can't use dollars or euros. No one will understand English or French. We're not even on Earth anymore!"

Murata Ken's eyebrows climbed upwards and he looked at me bemusedly.

"... Is there some other planet in the solar system that has oxygen?"

"That's not what I'm trying to say."

How can I explain this so someone who is experiencing this for the first time can understand? When I first came here, what finally convinced me to accept the truth? But I didn't have time to explain it all to him. We had to get away from this girl's village as fast as possible.

"Step on it, Muraken!"

After I pull my cap down low over my eyes and tuck the loose strands of hair away underneath it, we ran along the coast in the opposite direction. A beach marathon might be ideal for strengthening the lower muscle groups, but I had not wanted to strengthen them by being chased.

But even so, I had to get us through this situation somehow.

There were no friends I could count on for help.

---

We kept walking for half a day and as the sun stood highest in the sky, Murata and I finally reached the next town.

This seems to be a country bordering the ocean and this place was a lively harbor city built out of stone. Luckily, there were a lot of people coming and going so there was less chance of us standing out. The key was not to do anything that would attract attention. The first thing we had to do was find new clothes.

"Bare legs and a leather jacket really stand out."

"Really? The aprons you’re wearing front are fairly unique as well. But who knows? When we get back to Japan, maybe we'll find we started a new trend here. Let's look for an embassy or a consulate instead. I don't think we'll be turned away at the gates for being in swimwear..."

Murata Ken still thought we were just overseas somewhere. I really wanted to describe our situation clearly for him, but that was easier said than done.

I mean, who would believe that they accidentally got sent to another planet?

He's gotten it pretty easy, though. At the very least, we didn't get here through a western toilet. Murata would not develop a phobia of public bathrooms nor the habit of carefully checking the 'bottom' of western toilets.

"Murata, do you have any money... no, of course not."

"No, and you... probably don't, either? Well then, nothing for it, you'll have to sell that and buy me some pants."

He tapped the fingernail of his pointer finger against my magic stone.

"Hey hey hey hey hey, that's completely out of the question! This stone is incredibly important to me! Don't make me do something I can't take back!"

"Tch, tightass!"

Don't you mean tightwad?

If we're talking about jobs bumbling high school students would be able to do, we need to search for a day-by-day part-time job. Since freight ships were constantly arriving at the harbor, people to carry the goods were surely needed. It would be even better if there was a work uniform for that and one of our problems would be solved... or not.

"Oh."

They actually did lend us uniforms. Just about every single brawny worker wore the same red uniform as they worked in silence.

"... Fundoshi."

Their throbbing, beautiful muscles were fully exposed and their manliness points were definitely upped, but looking down on our own weak bodies, it was easier for us to stay as we were. I hesitate at wearing string panties, but fundoshi were a bit much.

"My swim trunks are probably less embarrassing than your bikini thong. They're surfer type, after all. For the time being, I'll lend my pants to you even though they're a bit wrinkly."

"Uh, that's a bit creepy, wearing borrowed pants trunks that are still warm."

"If you don't want to then we gotta hurry up and get a half day's work of pay and buy some shirts, pants, and socks."

We needed to sign contracts to work so I signed for both of us out of necessity. It's true that the writing here was essentially the same as the mazoku language, but since I'd only just learned the writing in this world, I was pretty sure my chicken scratches looked just like cuneiform. By the way, I'm bad at kanji to a normal degree.

"Murata, you were Robinson, right?"

"Yes, and you were Crusoe. But why do we need fake names?"

"It's better for me."

"You're weird, Shibuya."

If you were in my shoes as a king and as a result had your life targeted, you'd learn a little caution. While my hat is covering my head, my eyes are the same as always. Murata has become a neutral nationality with his half-baked, image change plan, but I can't even look anyone in the eyes when I talk to them.

"Hey, lend me your sunglasses."

"Huh?"

"But you're shamelessly wearing those colored contacts, right? In this wor- in this country, black is a bad omen and we can get bullied for it."

"You sure are well informed. Have you been here before?"

"N-no, I haven't. I really haven't. I'm just sensitive when it comes to things like this!"

Since the blue sunglasses were fitted with strong lenses, I felt a little dizzy when I first put them on. Suddenly my field of vision was reduced.

"Man! I can't see anything with these!"

"It's a problem for me too when I don't have th- ah, sorry."

Murata had banged into a suntanned macho and immediately bowed his head. The other party responded, 'No problem, yeah,' in a lively voice and went on his way with his load. His voice sounded older than anticipated so I carefully lowered the lenses steal a glance.

When I checked with my 2-0 vision, I saw a face full of wrinkles and age spots on top of large biceps and back muscles. No matter what benefit of the doubt I give him, he had to at least be over seventy.

"That's amazing! Their bodies are so in shape, but they're really geeze-... old people."

"Old people? Why are senior citizens doing this hard labor?"

A closer look showed me that the place was crawling with older workers. Although they were all energetically doing their work with top-class back muscles, their skin and faces were unmistakably painted with age.

They were (an army corps of) Old Machos in red fundoshi.

"You're shocked, right yeah?"

As we stood frozen to the spot at seeing the energy of the old people carrying loads, a voice called out to us that sounded like Kishida Kyouko. This woman also had a splendid musculature and had a chest that you would see in a body-building contest. On top of it all, as if to set off the men's sexy costume, she wore a mini swimsuit that let an unbelievable amount of skin show.

If that wasn't enough on its own, the color of the thing was a vivid orange that singed the eyeballs.

"... Yay~. Man's favorite: the micro-bikini."

"Hey hey, that was very monotonous, Shibuya."

A head of white hair bound tightly together in a bun. A face filled with wrinkles that beamed with friendliness. Up to that point, she looked just like your usual grandmother next door who cares for her garden every day, but from the neck down curved enormous muscles that shone with oil and sweat. And she had the voice of Kishida Kyouko!

I'm going to dream about this.

"Ey, ey, two lanky little boys! You aren't from around here, are you, yeah? Even for wandering harbor workers, you two look much too scrawny, yeah."

"Around here? Grand- er, ma'am, where is this port town?"

The woman gnashed her fake teeth together and waved her right hand up and down.

"No no, that's alright. I'm definitely a granny, yeah. But anyway, if you don't even know where you are there's no point in you two fine young lads going on a journey, yeah."

If you go to different places the dialect changes as well. Feeling like the accents and sentence endings are weird is probably because I'm far away from Shin Makoku. It seems like the people in this country talk as if they're answering themselves.

"This is the commercial harbor of Gilbit, yeah. You now find yourselves on the southern tip of the autonomous region Caloria, feudal territory of Shou Shimaron."

Shimaron!

I'd heard that name before. My lack of ability to remember things is slightly troubling, but I was not left with a very good impression of the place.

"Gilbit huh, kinda like Gilbert in English? Err, ma'am, would you happen to know where we might find the Japanese consulate? Am I not making sense? Uh, Frau? Ich am a, how do you say, a Japanisch."

"Murata, what's up with the Nagashima accent... Hey! How do you understand the language?!"

"That's what I want to ask." Murata Ken turns to me after having attempted interaction with Old Muscle Lady. "Shibuya, why are you speaking fluent German? I didn't know you had any interests outside of baseball."

"German? Are you speaking German?"

"Of course. Well, it's not perfect, but it's about the same level as my cousin or my cousin once removed. I chose German as my second foreign language elective so I could understand some stuff about The World Cup."

I forgot he was a student at a famous prep school.

That all being said, to my ears it all sounded like the same Japanese that I've been hearing since I was born.

"Although you two are skinny, you're lively young men, yeah. Lately, we never get to see young people around here anymore, so you've made this old woman very happy, yeah."

Then the friendly grandma's smile became grim with hopeless resignation.

"... Actually it would be better if the young people worked instead of us old people, yeah."

Among the workers walking past us in an endless stream, there were no young men in the prime of their life. Every once in a while there was a boy in his mid-teens, but the distinct majority were the elderly.

"Yeah, that's really a shame. Where are all the adult men playing around at and leaving the grandpas and grandmas to do this physically demanding work?" I asked.

"They're all serving with the army, yeah. There's going to be war soon, yeah."

"War?! Is there trouble with America?!"

Murata definitely still thinks this is...

"We're going to fight with the mazoku, yeah."

No one would be able to imagine the shock I suffered in that moment.

War with the mazoku?! This country? The port city Gilbit of the autonomous region Caloria, feudal territory of Shou Shimaron?

I had yelled about eternal pacifism for all that time, but when I disappear for a little bit, this happens? What's going on, Shin Makoku? Can I not trust you, Shin Makoku? No, even if I wasn't around, someone would carry on my dying wish and speak out against war. Ah, what's up with this 'dying wish?' I'm not dead! The people who I was so favored by while I was alive wouldn't just change their policies in a few days... ah! 'While I was alive?' I'm not dead!

"Shimaron's goal is to conquer the entire world, yeah. Just like back when they defeated Caloria, yeah. They want to put together a powerful army. And they're said to have gotten their hands on a formidable weapon, yeah.... What's the gain... " The old woman narrowed her eyes. "What's the gain in doing something like that? They're going to do exactly the same thing they did before when I was young. Is expanding your territory such a good thing, ah?"

"It's going to be fine," I say without thinking. Murata asks 'What is?'

"It's going to be fine, there isn't going to be a war. I don't know about Shimaron, but the mazoku are not going to go to war. I would never allow something as horrible as that!"

Even if I don't say it again, everyone left behind understands. Günter who always helped me with my work will definitely be strongly opposed to war. It's not like there aren't any nobles who favor war, but Conrad would definitely help me convince them.

"... Ah."

I remember the disaster that just happened.

Greta was hiding so she definitely made it through unscathed. Günter collapsed outside and went into a self-induced suspended animation so the worst has probably not happened to him.

Then what about Conrad?

With his severed arm and the explosion and that pillar of fire coming out of the church doors.

"It's definitely fine!"

"Hey, Shibu- I mean, Crusoe. You can't go around making such frivolous statements in the name of foreign countries. That could lead quickly to an international crisis!"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, that's right Robinson... You know, Robinson has such a nice ring to it. Why am I Crusoe?"

"You don't like it? How about Clooney, then? He's a famous actor. If you don't like Kuruzo~, then how about the softer 'Kuruyo?'"

"Then you need to be Ikuyo."

The old lady observed us as if she were watching her own grandkids.

"How wonderful would it be if our children came back home soon, yeah. Actually, we citizens of Caloria are against war, yeah, so if big countries go and get themselves involved in a conflict, we don't want to be a part of that, yeah... But even though we're autonomous, we're still part of Shou Shimaron so when we're ordered to send soldiers we can't disobey, uhuh. Ah... it's like we've gone back sixty years."

Sixty years ago, there was probably a large war of conquest. The old lady gave a small smile and began murmuring as if to herself.

"We should just go back a few thousand years, then. It'd be great if the strong and gracious clan who were the rulers of the old country would return. We wouldn't have become Shimaron's lapdog, yeah."

"Rulers of the old country...?"

Suddenly a thunderous noise sounded from the bell tower. Shocked to death, I spun around and saw how thick smoke was rising out of the crenelations. The anchored ships fired their canons and the harbor was filled with explosions.

"What?! What-what, is it happening? Is it already happening!?"

"Don't panic, Shibuya! The first thing we have to do is turn off the main gas line!"

"That's for earthquakes!"

The workers laid down their wares and walked one after the other across the docks towards safety. They all went at a quick pace, but not a single one of them lost their composure. I wonder if it's because of all the emergency drills they've had.

A thin old man waved at us happily.

"Hey, you two boys, lunch is served, yeaaah!"

"... So that was just the signal for break time?"

I'm begging you, please use 'Heidenröslein' or 'Yuuyake Koyake' as a signal for the time.

---

We received our lunch tickets and joined the lunch line with the other workers.

The building before us, into which masses of people were flowing, reminded me more of a restaurant than a cafeteria. Numerous tables without tablecloths were arranged along the light green walls. The chairs gradually being occupied by all the people were painted in the same scarlet red as the window frames.

The system functioned like this: you stuck out your kickboard-sized tray and the hostesses filled it up high with your meal. At the end you also got a sizable slice of bread and a light colored drink that looked like milk. It was a very unattractive, one-plate meal.

"Oh, but you young boys are really very thin~! Shall I give you another serving of goat milk~?"

"G-goat milk?"

"Yes, indeed. If you drink a lot, then your height will grow by next year~!"

It was a 'My Revolution' that no one would notice.

The hostess with the orange hair hanging freely down her back winked at us with a cup in one hand, a serving ladle in the other, and goat milk on her lips. Not to be outdone by the madame in the micro bikini from before, she too possessed a robust and well-built body. Her shoulder width and height were above the average man. Her larynx rose and fell along with her jazzy voice. If you listened carefully, she didn't use the sentence endings of the area and she spoke like she was from the big city. She was younger than all the others around she was quite the beautiful person so she was probably the idol of the harbor. Although personally her make-up was much too thick for my tastes and I would've supplied her with a baseball bat rather than a serving ladle. She seems like she would bat an average of .300 and 30 home runs.

"Hey, did you know your companion is chatting with some old guys?"

"Geh!"

I stop watching him for just a moment and already Murata was deep in conversation with a 'Romance Grey' with a mustache. In spite of having the calm features of a gentleman, from the neck down he wore the red fundoshi. His manly chest hair was grey as well. They were deep in conversation while sharing a table together.

"Mura- Robinson! You shouldn't just walk away like that."

"You're just in time! I've just asked this gentleman about the consulate."

Mr. Gray-Chesthair looked up at me. "But you know, you two, even if you go there, it won't accomplish anything, yeah. Sir Norman doesn't receive any visitors, yeah."

"Well, it's not like we have to speak with the boss. It'll be fine if we can speak with an employee."

This is bad. Murata definitely still believes this is somewhere on Earth. Maybe I should convince him this is the afterlife and make him keep to himself a bit. Without knowing that he's speaking to two people from another planet, Mr. Gray-Chesthair kept talking while drinking his milk. I'm completely distracted by the white droplets hanging in his beard.

"You should know that Sir Norman suffered a bad fever as a child, yeah. To hide his terrible scars, he wears a silver mask, yeah."

"A-a man in an iron mask..."

I remember seeing that in a movie. It was either Louis or Richard. How heavy would an iron mask be? Isn't the sweat a problem in the summer?

"After Sir Norman's carriage accident three years ago, he doesn't even leave the house any more, yeah. But if you listen to the rumors, he can still walk just as well as before and he's said to lead a normal life in his castle."

"So Sir Norman shut himself in, huh?"

Right before I said that seemingly intelligent statement, I realize that 'Norman' is in no way a Japanese name.

"We're all praying for a quick recovery, yeah, so he can show himself to the people again, yeah. Such a good person doesn't come around often, yeah. We're all hoping that Sir Norman can prevent our children and grandchildren from having to go to war, yeah."

"Ah! So if we could somehow meet him, we should ask if he'll write us a visa!"

"... Hey, Muraken-ku~n..."

I only have a half-assed knowledge of history so my misunderstanding is steadily getting deeper. The dictionary of names I have in my brain does not include Schindler, so it's taking me a while to keep up with the conversation. Wait, if we're talking about visas, wouldn't that be Sugiura Chiune.

However, if this Norman really was on the side of human rights, then getting help from him might be in the realm of possibility. As long as my hair and eye color and my identity weren't found out, then we might be able to get issued passports.

"Hey, I have a question, Mr. Gray-Chesthair. Is Sir Norman someone who discriminates against different race-"

"Everybody listen up! There's terrible news!"

A middle-aged man came running inside while yelling. His head was wrapped in a cloth pirate-style, but from the neck down he wore the outfit of a traditional seaman: a sailor suit. It's the first time in a while that I've seen a man who wasn't naked.

"Horrible news, yeah! A buddy of mine just got wind of it, yeah! Shimaron is said to have sent an envoy to us, yeah!"

The harbor workers as well as the hostesses fell into a panic at this bad news. Several people voiced the resentment they felt towards their suzerain, but then hurriedly looked around afterwards because of what had come out of their mouths.

"What are we supposed to do now? Will there really be war now?"

"Why do our young people have to die for these guys, eh?"

"Will Sir Norman somehow prevent this, yeah?"

Murata shoveled down the rest of his lunch, squinted in his nearsightedness, and adopted a serious expression.

"We should get out of here as fast as possible. Things could go bad for us if we get sucked into this."

"Yeah."

The situation isn't as simple as you think. No matter how fast we move, we're already involved.

After all, the potential opponent of these people was none other than my own country.

The hostess from before walked up to us without the sound of a single footstep and topped off our glasses. Looking at me sideways with a not-so-serious face, she tugged her slightly slanted blue eyes into a smile.

"At times like this, goat milk is just the thing. It doesn't just help you grow, it even helps heal your anger and fears, you know?"

At that point, a drink of that nature sounded really, really good to me.

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