February 2003In a certain place
Hey.
You people look like you’re enjoying yourselves.
Even if Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, those are some pretty weird duds. Wearing bells all over… You’ll drive yourselves nuts.
Huh. So that’s why you’re dressed like that. That’s pretty optimistic.
Y’know, you remind me of that guy.
Happy Ending. That was his nickname. You could stick a Mr. in front of that, or maybe make it The Happy Ending. Just trick it out somehow so that it sounds cool. As long as you’ve got Happy Ending in there, he’ll probably be satisfied.
Yeah, he’s a weird one. The only thing on his radar is other people’s happiness… And he doesn’t care whether the person seeking happiness is a good guy or a bad one.
What about him? If you’re asking whether he’s happy or not… I bet even he doesn’t know. If we’re dividing people into good guys and bad ones, though, he’s definitely bad. No doubt about it.
That’s a contradiction? No it isn’t, not at all. It’s not as if people who wish for happiness are always good guys.
…You want to hear more? More of this drifter’s idle talk?
Ha-ha. Say, thanks.
Let’s see. I’ve got some time before my friends get back, so I guess I could talk until then.
It was… Yeah, it was about three hundred years ago now, on a certain ship…
PROLOGUE
SMILE JUNKIE
1711 On the Atlantic Ocean The Advena Avis
“Dammit! Wake up! Wake uuuup! Everyone’s gonna die! We’ll all be killed— Aah! AAAAAAAAAAAaAka-ka-kaaaAAAAh! AAAAAaaaah! AaaAaaah! Aaah! Aaah…”
An uproar engulfed the ship.
In the darkness…all they heard were screams.
The alchemists had left their homelands and were bound for the New World.
And on that ship, at long last, they’d successfully summoned a demon.
With that, they’d achieved what was generally considered one of alchemy’s ultimate goals: immortality.
However, that immortality had a troublesome restriction…
There was one way for them to die: Find another immortal and have that person place a hand upon their head. Then the other simply had to think, forcefully, I want to eat. By doing this, they could give all their knowledge, memories, and experiences—and sometimes even their personality—to the other. They could deal death to themselves and allow the other to inherit all the accomplishments of the life they’d left behind.
However, naturally, some of them had thought about this from the other direction. In fact, the restriction made more sense when considered in that light.
One could inherit all the others’ experiences and become an immortal king.
On the next night after the demon had been summoned, a man plunged down that road toward everlasting solitude.
He ate the companions who’d studied alchemy alongside him, throwing the ship into infernal pandemonium.
The man’s name was
“It’s Szilard! The filthy old bastard—he’s betrayed us!”
“That wretch… Stop him! Somebody stop him! No, I don’t care who does it—eat him!”
“Where did he go?! He must still be on the ship!”
“Careful! He’s already eaten more than five of us! He won’t move the way he did before!”
As angry roars filled the ship, one shadow was attempting to hide in the hold.
She was a bespectacled girl with silver hair, sixteen or seventeen years old. She seemed clearly out of place, and…
Scared, I’m scared. Hide—I have to hide somewhere.
Him too… I know he’s hiding somewhere, too. I have to find him—
Panicked by the abrupt crisis in the dead of night, she simply fled from the noise without any sort of plan. She’d meant to go down into the ship’s hold and hide until the situation had resolved itself, but—
The instant she reached the bottom of the stairs into the depths of the hull, a wrinkled hand covered her head.
Her eyes went wide with terror. Reflected in them was the grim smile of the old man who was the cause of the uproar.
“To think I’d get to eat a young woman in a place like this. My carnal impulses died long ago, but despite my years, I’m excited.”
Then the right hand he’d set on her head tensed.
…But nothing happened.
The eyes of the old man—Szilard Quates—widened slightly. His expression suggested he couldn’t understand the situation, but after a moment, realization dawned.
“Sylvie, you witch… You didn’t drink it, did you?”
“……Ah…… Aaaah…”
Pinned by Szilard’s coldly gleaming eyes, the girl he’d called Sylvie was petrified, unable to answer.
He’ll kill me.
In the instant that certainty hit her, Szilard’s right arm abruptly left her head—and fell to the floor with a thump. The old man’s arm had been severed partway down, and blood pulsed vigorously from the cut surface.
The blood splattered on Sylvie as well, but each drop immediately began trembling, then gathering like a swarm of small insects, and then each was drawn back into Szilard’s arm of its own accord. The severed surfaces were joined together. As if the blood between them had been changed into rubber, they writhed toward one another, attempting to regenerate.
“Gkh… UoooOooogh!”
“Apparently we feel pain, even if we are immortal. I am pleased I was able to experiment on you.”
The two heard an arrogant voice from beside Szilard as he desperately bore the agony.
When Sylvie searched for the source, she found a brown-skinned young man. His right hand held a blade that looked like a Chinese cleaver, and his face was suffused with a quiet rage.
“Nile… You cur!”
“I am incredibly angry at the moment, but allow me to express this thought: I will kill you.”
Szilard’s arm had completely regenerated, and the man called Nile raised his knife.
“While there is absolutely no need to say it, let me inform you: Die.”
The thick blade bore down on him with enough force to cleave his skull. Evading it by a hair, Szilard slipped past Nile and dashed toward the stairs leading upward on the opposite side.
Nile didn’t try to go after him. Instead, he spoke to the girl, who’d fallen to her knees and was trembling like a leaf.
“Hmm. Are you all right?”
Just as Sylvie got to her feet and was about to say something…
“Hi there, you two. You okay?”
As Nile offered his haughty consideration, from above his head they heard a voice that was completely wrong for the situation.
“Guess I didn’t even need to check; you look fine. That’s great, that’s really fantastic. Sylvie and Nile… That’s wonderful. All right, I know this is abrupt, but c’mon and smile. Show me your teeth; give me a big ol’ grin.”
When the pair looked up, they saw a man whose beaming face didn’t betray the slightest sense of danger.
The guy, who’d poked his head in from the top of the stairs, had hooked his fingers into the corners of his mouth and pulled, forming a big grin.
“Goan, aiuhl, aiuhl. (Go on, smile, smile.)”
“Elmer. Does this look like an appropriate time for jokes?”
When Nile reproached him, the man he’d called Elmer responded by shrugging. The smile on his face showed no sign of fading. However, strangely, the expression didn’t strike him as sarcastic, so Nile made no attempt to force him to stop.
“I’m not joking. When you’re panicking, for starters, it’s better to smile. Smiling will cool your head.”
“You are the only one foolish enough to smile in this situation,” Nile replied. “If you can hide, you should do so immediately.”
At that, Elmer quietly shook his head. “No, I’m going to try to talk old Szilard down, so you two wait here.”
He had said the words pragmatically. However, Sylvie and Nile objected, eyes wide, as if they couldn’t believe their ears.
“Let me just say this: It’s useless. Even supposing you did manage to talk him down, Maiza would never be satisfied with that,” Nile insisted. “If he’s going to die anyway, the rest of us will take less damage if we kill him immediately.”
Elmer shrugged. “If that happens, I’ll try to talk Maiza down, too.”
“How naïve can you possibly…”
“Yeah, I agree that it’s naïve. That’s why I’m gonna talk him down first. If I fail and get eaten, then the rest of you can do whatever you want.”
Elmer spoke as if he were merely going out for lunch, and in spite of herself, Sylvie cried out:
“You can’t! You’ll never stop him! He—when he tried to eat me, he smiled! As if he was really enjoying himself—! There’s no way you’ll get through to a man like that!”
However, when Elmer heard that, his answer was even stranger:
“So old Szilard was smiling? I see… In that case, it’ll work out somehow.”
“What…?”
Ignoring the young woman’s mystified expression, Elmer grinned. “C’mon, Sylvie, smile! You have to smile!” he called down enthusiastically from the top of the stairs, only to laugh as he withdrew his head from view.
Sylvie and Nile were left behind, and before long, the young woman fearfully asked a question.
It wasn’t about Elmer’s abnormal personality. It was about something Nile had said in their conversation, something she hadn’t been able to understand.
“Listen…Nile? You said Maiza wouldn’t be satisfied… What did you mean by that?”
“Hmm…”
Nile’s face clouded.
“It… It can’t be… Can it? No, it couldn’t possibly…”
As if trying to confirm something, Sylvie shook Nile’s brown arm fiercely.
“Tell me it isn’t; say it isn’t that! Nile, please!”
Before the tearful Sylvie, Nile only kept his silence.
“Dammit, where did the old man go?!”
“Found him! He’s up on deck!”
“Heeey, Old Man Szilard! Over here, look at me, listen to me!”
“What’s that? Is that Elmer?”
“Wh-what…is…he…do…ing? Why…is…he…up…there…?”
“Aaah, look out—!”
“Elmer!”
A splash. Then silence.
Elmer’s mind was enveloped in infinite darkness.
And then…he heard a voice.
<Are you all right?>
At the sound, Elmer’s consciousness began to return, dimly.
He felt a strange sensation, as if he’d lain down in midair. Opening his eyes a crack, he saw a man’s vaguely familiar face. Aside from that, there was nothing except endless blackness.
<You’re a foolish fellow. Doing a flip on the prow of the ship to get that old man’s attention… Well, never mind. After all, because you fell into the ocean, you escaped being eaten.>
That “Well, never mind”… Of course. I remember. This guy’s the demon.
The demon who’d given them immortality. Elmer had just assumed he’d gone away. What was he doing down here? Even as Elmer fuzzily pondered, the demon indifferently continued.
<I’d intended to leave, but I saw something interesting on my way out… Well, never mind. More importantly, I hear you meant to talk that old man down. Did you think that would be possible?>
The demon asked his question quietly, looking at Elmer as if he were some sort of strange life form. After giving it a little thought, Elmer spoke with a smile that didn’t go past his lips.
“I thought it might be. After all, Sylvie said Szilard smiled.”
<He smiled?>
“…If you can smile, that means you’re still at least a little human. Even if the smile belongs to a murderer right after he’s gratified his desires, I’ll never say it doesn’t count. No matter what shape it takes, as long as someone’s able to smile, there’s still a chance that you can resolve the situation by talking it out. Maybe wars are different, but this case is still about the feelings and wants of individuals. No matter how small the possibility is, I want to try.”
<Oho. From the way things looked, though, I’d say what you were attempting was very close to impossible.>
“Even so. It felt like eating Szilard immediately wasn’t the happiest ending for that situation. Letting him get away would have been worse. Talk the old guy down, have him give a genuine apology, then make him atone for his sins through eternity until, someday, everybody else forgives him.”
<You’d ignore the people he already ate?>
“The dead don’t smile anymore. They don’t feel joy or anger either. That’s what dying means. If there are ghosts in this world…well, you can’t say they’re really dead, as far as I’m concerned. Anyway, I think it’s important to respect the dead—but they don’t really interest me.”
After a brief silence, the demon’s voice echoed directly into his brain.
<Hmm. I thought you were just softhearted, but there are surprisingly strong elements of villainy in you. Well, never mind… You’re an interesting man. All right; there must be some sort of fate at work here.>
At that, the demon made him an unbelievably tempting offer.
<Let me grant you some sort of power. Tell me what you’d like. Do you want me to take from you the ability to devour and be devoured, giving you perfect immortality? Would you prefer the power to see over vast distances? I could give you the art of stopping time, or the power to bend humans to your will. Anything.>
“You’re like an Arabian djinni.”
<That’s not far off. Although I’m only offering one wish, not three.>
With an ironic expression, the demon shook his head slightly.
After thinking for a little while, Elmer smiled and spoke:
“I’ve made up my mind, demon.”
<That was fast.>
The voice in his mind sounded surprised.
Then, with no hesitation, Elmer named the power he wanted.
“Listen, demon, I—”
“Hey, Elmer! Are you all right?!”
“Oh, he’s awake!”
“Good, that’s great.”
At the sound of someone smacking his cheeks, Elmer realized his view was flooded with light.
When he looked around, he saw that he was on the deck and that the rising sun was warmly shining down on him. Putting the facts in order, he pieced together that after he’d fallen into the sea, someone had pulled him back out.
“…What happened to old Szilard?”
“Huey and Denkurou cornered him, but he threw himself into the ocean and got away.”
“I see…”
Hearing the outcome from his companion’s lips, Elmer responded with a brief murmur.
Complicated thoughts filled him, and although he’d begun to sit up, he lowered himself to the deck again and gazed at the sky. The morning sun shone into his eyes, but stars still gleamed in the highest part of the heavens.
When he happened to glance up, the companions around him were watching him, sighing with relief.
As he watched their smiles, Elmer fell back into sleep again.
However…just before his mind shut down, his ears caught sobs coming from somewhere on the ship. When he heard them, Elmer gave a truly sad smile.
“You mustn’t do that, Sylvie. Smile, you’ve got to smile…”
He murmured as if in a delirium, and this time his mind did plunge into the depths of the darkness.
And—time passed.
1998 December A certain village in Northern Europe
Northern Europe The forest
Bold and stubborn, the deep, snow-covered woods kept the village hidden.
In this forest, the conifers grew more thickly than they should. The trees crowded against each other, as if defying the laws of nature.
A lone shadow crawled along, weaving its way through the gaps in the trees.
The shadow wore heavy winter gear, forming a puffy silhouette as it wandered aimlessly through the snowy forest.
“Not good.”
Stopping in front of an enormous tree, the figure spoke, sounding just a little troubled. The breath streaming from his mouth turned white immediately, fogging his vision slightly.
As the frosty burst cleared, the man glanced up at the sky.
The blue that showed through the gaps in the evergreens had acquired a faintly darker hue, hinting that it wouldn’t be long until sunset.
“Maybe it was bum information. Come to think of it, there’s no way anyone would build a castle out here in the back of beyond.”
As the man spoke, he lowered his gaze again and sized up his surroundings.
The evergreens were abnormally dense, and snow peeked out from the spaces between them in a pattern of pure white stripes.
“Well now, what to do… Should I turn back, or—?”
Murmuring to himself, he turned, looking around at the forest. Compared to the direction he’d just come from, there seemed to be less snow up ahead. The atmosphere that hung about this forest was odd to begin with, and the thick trees blocked out the sunlight, as if night was waiting beyond them.
After giving it a little thought, the man set off again, heading deeper into the forest.
Almost as if he was being drawn by something…
A person has come to the village.
It’s a man.
He’s wearing thick clothes, and the only part of him exposed to the air is a bit of his face.
I’m standing at the entrance to the village when he walks up to me and says just one word:
“Hello.”
He’s making a strange face. Both corners of his mouth are raised, and his eyes are half-shut.
It isn’t an expression I often see from the villagers.
It’s the sort of expression “people from outside” sometimes wear.
I still don’t really understand what it means.
Correction: I must have known once. I’ve only forgotten. After all, I haven’t been able to observe one for a very long time.
“I tell you what—it’s nippy here, isn’t it! Really and truly frigid! I’d better be grateful for this wonderful cold! If it hadn’t been so cold, this cold-weather gear would have been completely useless!”
It’s a loud voice. A clear voice.
“By the way, does this village have an inn or something? If it does, could you tell me where to find it? I camped in the forest yesterday, see, and then I walked all night, so I’d like to rest somewhere.”
Inn. A facility to accommodate people from outside.
The village doesn’t have one, so I shake my head.
“You’re kidding! There isn’t one? That’s a problem. Is there someplace I could rest? As long as it’ll keep the wind and the rain off, anywhere’s fine. Like, say, a waterwheel shed. By the way, what’s the name of this place? I really didn’t think anyone would be living this deep in the woods. Or is there a road that leads to town on the other side of the village? Still, on the map, it looked as though this whole area was forest for several dozen miles… Talk about unreliable. I guess you really can’t trust anything you haven’t seen or heard yourself! Don’t you think so? Oh, that’s right: My name is Elmer. Elmer C. Albatross. ‘El’ for short. It’s great to meet you!”
Words. A vast quantity of words flows into me. There are so many of them that they overwhelm my capacity for them, and I’m unable to respond well. In the space of a breath, this person has rattled off more sentences than the villagers speak in an entire day.
Elmer.
Of the deluge of words breaking over me, that name is the only one I manage to remember.
“Oh, sorry, sorry! The thing is, it’s been a long time since I saw anyone else, and—I’m such a dolt—even though I was talking to a cute little kid like you, all I did was go on and on about myself! Hold on, you do understand me, right? I am using this country’s official language, technically speaking. But wait, am I wrong? Um, let’s see, getting back to the original topic, is there anywhere I can rest?”
I do understand him. It’s just that my abilities can’t keep up.
“I shall…take you there. Master…Elmer.”
I respond as usual. It’s no different from the way I always act with the villagers.
However, when I speak, Master Elmer cocks his head to one side.
“Ah? Why are you being so formal? Oh, wait—do you waitress at a dining hall or something? Is that it?”
Again, without waiting for my answer, Master Elmer keeps talking a blue streak.
“I tell you what, though, the people in this village are funny. The minute I got here, everybody ran into their houses and shut the windows! Does this village not like strangers or something? Or are they getting ready for Christmas, maybe?”
Christmas. Another unfamiliar term.
I don’t know how to respond, so I only gaze quietly at Master Elmer’s face.
“…What’s this, what’s this, what—what? What? Did I say something weird? If I did, I’m sorry, but…”
“What is…Christmas?”
I voice my question.
That is my duty, after all.
“……What? Don’t you know? Christmas. I see… It’s even taken root in the Far East lately, so I just assumed it would be common knowledge in these parts. Is your religion different, maybe? I guess I’ll look into that later.”
He murmurs the last part as if to himself, then glances at my face and bursts out laughing.
“I see, all right. Well, here’s what we’ll do, then! If the religion around here doesn’t forbid it, I’ll teach you about Christmas! Oh, Christmas is… Well, frankly, it’s a festival, a party! Everyone gets crazy and noisy together, and they eat turkey and pie and give each other presents!”
Master Elmer’s face distorts even further.
His voice is loud. Then he puts his hands out toward me.
His hands touch my cheeks.
“That’s right, we smile. When there’s a festival, everybody smiles. Smile, that’s right, smile! You know, it’s a bit strange to say this out of the blue, but kids like you are cutest when you smile, see? Well, erm, I guess it’s kind of cliché to say, but as your Christmas present, I’ll help you smile! I bet it’ll be cute, it’ll be real cute, incredibly cute! You’ll be popular with all the boys your age!”
As he says this, Master Elmer pinches my cheeks lightly.
I don’t put up any real resistance, and I remember something.
The expression he is wearing is called a “smile.”
It’s the face people make when they think something is fun.
“Look forward to it: We’ll be having a party the day after tomorrow! Generally, at this point, you’d already be smiling, you know?”
Little by little, I remember. What it feels like to have fun, and the memories I have in connection with it.
I want to remember more. More, more.
It feels as though if I talk with this person, I’ll be able to remember lots of things. I might learn things I don’t know yet. Two days from now, during this “Christmas” festival—More, more.
I remember one more thing.
Is this the feeling called “anticipation”? Or should I call it “hope”—?
That was two days ago.
A stone-floor room.
Sounds echoing in it.
Splorch, blutch, skash.
Sounds like those, over and over.
Right now, the thing that used to be Master Elmer is lying in front of me.
Just a thing. A clothed, human-shaped lump of meat, leaking red liquid.
The villagers are standing around it.
They have wooden clubs and stones in their hands, and they’re bringing them down on Master Elmer’s body by turns.
Splorch, splat, splish.
The dull sounds continue around us. Master Elmer doesn’t move.
Someone is standing in front of me.
A middle-aged man. Whiskered face. Boss. The village’s. The village headman. It’s Master Dez.
“What were you plotting with the outsider, you damn brat?”
So saying, Master Dez brings his club down on me.
Pain.
Numbness runs through me. Of its own accord, my body falls to the floor.
“Dammit, dragging us out here where the monster might appear… You’re evil to the core, you good-for-nothing.”
I can see Master Dez’s foot. Under his thick boot, there’s a pretty ornament made out of paper. An ornament that used to be pretty.
Pretty. The natural way the descriptor surfaced strikes me as odd.
When did I remember the word pretty?
As my head fills with questions, the club comes down on it again and my body stops moving.
“Throw it outside! Got that?!”
Master Dez yells at the me who had been watching, sounding irritated.
Carrying me over my shoulder, I carefully pick up the paper ornament.
It’s made to look like a person in red clothes.
The paper doll with a boot print on it, and Master Elmer’s huddled body.
As I look at these two things, I feel some sort of emotion rise in my heart.
…But I can’t remember.
What is this feeling? When it wells up, what on earth am I supposed to do?
I can’t remember anything. And so, in the end, there is nothing I can do.
I want him to teach me. More, more, more, more, more…
Just how many years has it been since I wished hard for something?
How long has it been since it came home to me that in the end, those wishes would not come true…?
With myself on my shoulder, I see it.
The villagers in the room begin to get agitated about something.
A pause.
For the space of about two breaths, they look at one another, wordlessly.
Then…someone brings a farming hoe down on Master Elmer’s back.
Red.
A spray of red.
The hoe rises, coated in red, and the red turns into lines that begin to drip.
In the light of the candles, the red spray looks very warm.
Red, red, redredredredredredredredredredredredredred
The feelings I thought I had are all dyed red, and just when my thoughts are about to stop…
As if to make doubly sure, the blade of the hoe comes down again.
Red. Red. Red.
A clear memory of that color burns itself into my brain.
I feel absolutely nauseated, but even that emotion is overwritten by the endless flood of red.
Red.
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