Kyou kara Ma no Tsuku Jiyuugyou! - Volume 2 - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

If you fall in love with an island girl Van der Volcano will erupt. Even if she can't cross the ocean with you, Look up and you'll see the same moon in the sky. Oh this, this is the dream isle Van Van Van der Veer Come just once and you'll never forget it (keep beat with clapping)

That's the Van der Veer Marching Song, #1.

Though I'm not so sure about the whole dream isle thing. I mean, it looks kinda like one of those places built on top of a reclaimed landfill.

"This is NOTHING like a dream isle!"

Panting for air, leaden feet.

But the endless mountain trail continues ever upward, and no amount of grumbling or yelling is going to change that.

We landed around four-thirty or so, four mermen dripping with sweat and seawater and unknown varieties of seaweed, at a sandy beach unattached to any dock or marina. Since we looked pretty strange, we cleaned up at an unused beach hut and immediately tackled the mountain after a short nap.

We made a fine start, misled by Conrad's story of a paved road and claims that even children can make the summit effortlessly.

"Any kid who can climb this effortlessly must be in the world-class wunderchildren league."

"How do you mean? A hill road like this won't even make the grade for mountain-climbing training."

Yeah, and first-year senior high students aren't usually trained in mountain-climbing.

"We'll have plenty of time if we can scale it before noon."

"But I'm an invalid! I mean, I puked up everything in my stomach earlier! Isn't this a bit harsh?"

"That was because Your Majesty was greedy and gorged yourself on a full-course meal."

I had stomach cramps from stuffing all that food into a stomach that's been empty for close to two days. So my dummy double is now keeping company with a puddle of my body's violent rejection of my excesses in the low-class confinement room of that luxury liner.

The sun high overhead scorches my hair, and the back of my head twinges in the heat. Calling the stone paving beneath the soles of my shoes 'flat' would be stretching the term pretty far.

"I don't believe it, geez. Feels like the time I had to walk Hakone's old highway. That was unbelievably steep, too—I was almost sure it was an animal trail."

Except that the road here on this tropical dream isle winds through a forest of broad-leafed trees.

Van der Veer is a volcanic island around a hundred kilometers in diameter, blessed with many hot springs and a sea rich in seafood. Its economy is based on tourism. From the islands I remember from my atlas, I'd say it's about the size of Eromanga in the Republic of Vanuatu—I have no idea if a hundred kilometers is big or small for an island. In any case, it's perfect for a resort.

Josak, who has pulled ahead and is climbing alone in the lead, turns and waves exaggeratedly.

"There's a rest area just up ahead!"

"How far is 'just up ahead'?!"

When not in female clothing Josak is truly strong—he really does have the ideal outfielder physique. His agility and quickness would confine any hit to a single. Though he's probably strong even when he's working undercover. It was a wise move on my part to not attempt to dance with him.

After an unpleasantly long way to get 'just up ahead,' the rest stop appears.

"...A tea...a teahouse...?"

It's open.

The teahouse, which features a copious amount of red carpeting, looks just like the teahouses in historical dramas where the emperors and shoguns always stop to drink tea and eat sweet dumplings.

I plop down in exhaustion and order without even looking at the menu.

"Madam, tea and sweet dumplings."

"Hmm?"

The mistress of the house is a beauty with gold hair and blue eyes. She's brought cookies and red tea.

"...That's not how it's..."

Conrad and Josak nonchalantly raise the white porcelain teacups to their lips, but Wolfram and I are both shaking right down to our fingertips and don't even have the energy left to slurp our drinks.

Still holding her tray, the beautiful proprietress looks at the group of us, two full of energy and two wilted and drooping, with keen interest. Since I was the first to speak to her, she directs her inquiry at me.

"You probably already know this, but the portable shrine for the festival will set out from the next mountain over, not this one."

"Huh?! So this place doesn't have anything to do with the festival?"

"That mountain is the dormant volcano. This one has four or five hot spring hotels, but that's about it."

There's another rustic-looking building a few dozen meters from this one, further in.

"Did we come to the wrong place, then?! I don't think I'm up to the challenge of going back down..."

Wolfram has his teacup in a two-handed grip and is sitting motionless, eyes staring.

"...And it looks like he's already off to another world."

"This isn't the wrong place. Our business is not with the temple on the neighboring mountain."

"Then we're not going to that Pantheon-like temple on the pamphlet the sightseeing society was handing out?"

"Did you want to see it? I'm sorry."

Conrad sets his cup back on the saucer. Josak nods in support of his childhood friend and sinks his teeth into a charred-looking cookie, devoting himself to the task of replenishing his calories.

"I didn't think you'd be interested in a blazing portable shrine being rushed down the dormant volcano. What we're looking for is at the summit of this mountain, not the 'soul-stirring Fire Festival.'"

Blazing portable shrine...now I kinda want to see it.

"Oh, but you can't mean to go up to the top of the mountain!"

The proprietress pales.

"The spring at the top has been shut down, and there's nothing else to see up there! Well, I guess there's still a fish pond, but..."

"Shut down? Since when? Did something happen?"

She darts a glance at Conrad, having apparently decided that he's my guardian.

"One summer night about fifteen, sixteen years ago, a red light fell from the sky into the pond, see, and the spring boiled for three days and three nights."

"Was it a meteorite?!"

The woman shakes her head hard, and lowers her voice in a vain attempt to sound more dramatic.

"...It was a demon!"

"Demon?"

"Yes. Since then nobody's been able to go into that spring. If they do, it's like they're struck by lightning and their entire body goes numb. In the worst cases people's hearts have stopped or they've gotten horribly burned. There's just one person who actually managed to go into the deep part of the spring without touching the hot water, and he saw a demon. It was silver and glittering and when he tried to grab it he fainted dead away.

Silver and glittering, and if you grab it it'll make you faint?!

"He was all but dead when he was discovered, and even now he just keeps mumbling things that make no sense. The burn on his head healed a long time ago, but he keeps yelling 'the face! the face!'"

That's several times scarier than Inagawa Junji's stories. But my brain's ticking away, and it's come up with a theory: that it's not a demon, but a demon sword. Which means that once we complete the demon sword: get! operation and take it back home, they can reopen the spring too.

It'll make Shinma Kingdom strong enough that we won't have to be worried about other countries invading us anymore. As a bonus, it'll raise my standing as the king, so it's a win all around.

"Put your mind at rest, Ma'am. We are on a journey to exorcise that demon. Once we do, visitors will be able to enjoy the spring in peace and quiet again."

"...If you can actually manage to lay your hands on the sleeping silver."

"Josa!"

"But it's true. Dozens of people have already been injured, haven't they? I can't guarantee that the young lord here's gonna come out of it unscathed," the Guard of the Inner Circle warns direly, and cackles like the Disney bunny at his own ill-portented words. "Well, don't worry 'bout it too much. If that happens we'll just tie you to the boat and drag you back home after us."

"Josa! Your rudeness is going too far!"

I immediately start clapping.

That's right, a boat's the answer!

Fortunately, several squid boats with white peeling paint have been left at the fish pond at the summit.

"...Well, all we need is something that won't send us to the bottom of the lake."

"That's right! So what if it's a bit old? It's still a lot better than a mud boat."

"Scoop, anybody see a scoop anywhere? Something to bail out the water if it leaks?!"

Man, this Guard of the Inner Circle, he was at least quieter when dressed as a woman. Though he can play both Ogin and Tobizaru—that's pretty convenient.

A gigantic fish breaks the muddy surface of the pond. Now that it can lead a carefree existence with its archenemy gone, it seems to have evolved from a carp into a tuna.

We climb over the crude barricade to stand on the bank of the spring at the summit. The wall at the entrance holds countless scribbles. The red and yellow lines are completely meaningless to me.

"What does all this writing mean?"

Josak reads in a monotone: "We were here hey hey hey, we are daredevils, yay."

"Dares, huh?"

The entrance continues right into a cave where rock teeth jut from both the walls and the ceiling. It's spacious and high enough that I don't feel any claustrophobia, but still exceptionally creepy because the light from outside can't reach within. We shine our torches around the cave.

Dense steam from the heated water covers everything.

"Commonly known as a large-scale cave-bath, like a hot spring theme park..."

"Ow."

Conrad presses against the back of his hand where he was splashed by hot water from the oars.

"Is it really that hot? This isn't a boiling water bath, is it?!"

"Your Majesty, be careful...!"

I stick a finger over the side into the water. It's pretty moderate, a nice temperature for a bath.

"It's not that hot."

"Are you all right?"

I've always been the impatient type, so I like my baths hot.

"Nothing to...oh, ouch!"

I suddenly feel a sharp pain and numbness run simultaneously down my thigh, like it's been stabbed by a centipede. I think a few drops fell from my finger while I was shaking the water off.

"Uwah, ouch! That's hot, hot hot hot! That really feels like a shock! Like, like a jellyfish stung me—or no, a Portuguese man-of-war! Definitely a Portuguese man-of-war! But why was my hand okay? Why wasn't it hot when I touched it with my bare hand?"

Why was my hand fine when my thigh was a total disaster even though it's protected by my pants?

"My hand is going numb too. See? It's swelling."

"Yeah, I see it! I wonder if that means this spring's acidic?"

Though a slight acidity in the water is good for the skin. I can't really come up with a good explanation.

I take my shoes and socks off and stick my big toe in experimentally.

"...It's fine..."

"This is a problem."

"Why?"

I try dipping both feet in. I don't feel anything other than the warmth of the water.

"We came after receiving the news that the demon sword Morgif is here at the summit of this mountain. The local stories also seem to indicate that the demon of the spring is Morgif. So I'm afraid the special transformation of the hot water is its doing."

"Huh, so it can do stuff like that? That's very demon sword-like."

"This is no time for admiration. Remember the claim that only His Majesty the Maou can carry Morgif? That's why you're not harmed when you touch the water. But Your Majesty's clothes are not a part of you, so they are not subject to the same immunity to attack. That's why they burned."

"I'm getting a bad feeling here."

Josak rows along carefully, holding the torch in his left hand high.

"I can see the silver glittering!"

The hot spring demon that's been terrifying the locals is leaning submerged against the innermost wall of the cave. It sparkles in the reflected light—more of a flash than a glitter. My trusty baseball buddy starts off with an apology and says: "Please take off your clothes."

"Whaaaaaaat?!"

"No, I mean, you will need to do so if you are to enter the hot water. The boat cannot go any further, and if you go into the water with your clothes on, they will actually harm you."

"Oh, th-that's what you meant."

I thought we were going to do sumo again, like that time I wrestled Wolf.

"Okay, okay, so I just need to walk over there and grab Melgib, right?"

"Be careful. Watch your step and don't slip."

Aaaaall right then, a man's gotta be decisive. I mean, come on, I did travel through the public bath to get here this time. It's way better than toilet water all around, whether you're looking at it or hearing about it, not to mention being washed away with it. And besides, this is the hot spring of a dormant volcano island, certifiably good for the health.

I turn my back to the two of them and gingerly stick my foot in. The boat is stuck on a shallow spot where the water only comes up to my knees, but the bottom drops off sharply after that.

"Are you all right? Do you feel any numbness?"

"It's nice and hot. Special care required if you have high blood pressure."

Conrad smiles wryly and says in his usual warm, good-humored voice, "Are you planning to soak for a bit, then?"

"I will after I finish this job."

Near the sunken object in question, the water rises to about the level of my stomach. It's now a pool rather than a bath. I bend my knees and sloooowly stretch out a hand, and just as the tips of my fingers might have grazed against metal—

"Gyah!"

"What's wrong?!"

It was probably just my imagination. I timidly reach out once more, trying not to look at the thing. But—

"Yeeargh! It bit me! It bit me! It felt like a fish mouth biting my finger—it definitely bit me!"

I leap back and peer into the water. Focusing, waiting for the waves to calm, my eyes catch sight of the silver glinting...sword...

"Gyah, face! The face, the faaaaace!"

So that's why!

That's why the young man who looked directly at the demon is yelling 'the face! the face!'

The thing sitting there is a sword with a face.

Even if I spend all my time on baseball, I have played a few video games too. Stuff like Power Pro and Let's Create Our Own Pro Baseball Team, not to mention the Soccer version that Murata had me try. And of course I've played Dragon Quest and FF, the big RPG titles, like everybody else. So I've seen quite a few swords with faces, the special weapons that raise character abilities to their max levels. A lot of them have weird carvings, like hilts decorated to look like demons' faces. And I've fought vampires with them too, though this was before I became Maou. Aaah, that was on the old PS.

But this thing!

"I wasn't told about this! Nobody told me that the sword is this dangerous! This thing's cursed for sure! And anybody who touches it will be cursed too!"

This sword's face is at the base of the blade rather than the hilt, and it's so realistic that it doesn't look carved. It's not like one of those rough, grim demons or monsters you see so often, either. It's eerie and unpleasant and somehow miserable-looking, as sinister and baleful as Munch's scream.

"No way am I touching that, it's like the bad guy from the Scream! It's even got tilted eyebrows!"

I'm about to starting crying here.

"Hold on, Your Majesty, calm down."

"But it bit me, it bit my index finger! 'Cause it's got a mug that looks like one of those face-shaped smears you see on walls! Aaagh, now I'm totally cursed, I'll never be able to fall in love or get married! I can't touch something like that, I'm not the kind of hero that can carry something like that!"

"All right, Yuuri, it's okay if you can't, we'll think of something else. Calm down, walk slowly back to the boat.

I grip the stone at my chest and force myself to take several calming breaths, swallow.

Josak gestures like he's singing. "Come back, Your Majesty, you don't have to put yourself in danger. Hurry back, the little foot soldiers'll cross the scary bridge for you."

My teeth are clenched so tightly that my throat feels constricted. I can't swallow the ugly emotions I'm trying to force back, and they scorch my chest.

"...Are you saying that I'm being irresponsible?"

"Yuuri, it's okay, leave it."

"Are you calling me irresponsible?!"

Seated on the edge of the tiny craft, Josak sweeps his orange hair up and lets it fall. Though this man is now a part of my guard, a smile particular to intelligent animals surfaces on his face.

A beast's smile: clever and strong, yet devoid of kindness.

"I'm not saying anything of the sort, Your Majesty. Please hurry back. Let's say good-bye to this place as soon as we can."

"...What do you know?"

"Yuuri, over here..."

"What the hell do you know?!"

I always think I'm being childish. And I always tell myself to be more adult. If I could have parried with a smile, my life until now would have been so much easier.

The lions-blue stone is the same temperature as my skin. Gripping it, I spit my words down at the water as if my enemy were inside.

"I'm just an ordinary senior high student, and I've lived an ordinary life for fifteen years. Then I'm summoned to this dream world and I'm suddenly forced to become the Maou! This demon sword, it's like a ghost or a phantom, and I never knew something like that could exist! So now I'm going to be criticized and scorned for being afraid?! Anyone would be scared half to death if they saw something like that! If this sword is so powerful, why don't you try giving it to a hero or champion or something? None of them would use something that disgusting! So why do I have to be the one?!"

The stone pulses like a living heart. Though of course that's impossible.

"I've never seen a sword except at the museum, and now you want me to carry this?! You have no idea how I feel!"

Conrad holds out his hand to me pleadingly. The other man shrugs.

"No, I don't got any idea. How Your Majesty spent your childhood, what kind of a person you are—I don't know about any of that. I have no idea what your feelings are or what you're thinking. Our lot is to obey without complaint, no matter what kind of a person becomes Maou. The soldiers and people and children, we can only believe in our king and obey."

Conrad's going to plunge in after me if I delay any longer. Staring down at my toes, I walk slowly back to the boat.

Until we reach the inn where we left Wolfram, no one says a word.

"Why didn't you come back with it?"

—is the first thing out of Wolfram's mouth after an entire afternoon spent resting. He's even taken a room at the hot spring inn. Frankly, because I am a wimp. A total wimp. I have no energy left to defend myself.

"...It's just out of my grasp."

Spending the night here would probably be a lot more relaxing than returning to the city, crammed as it is with tourists. Conrad and Josak go out to bespeak another twin room. When we set out from Shinma Kingdom, the plans were to stay at the highest-class hotel in Van der Veer.

If we hadn't encountered those pirates on the way, I would still have been in the midst of my wild merrymaking as Young Master Mitsuemon.

Seated on his bed's wooden frame, Wolfram leans back against the log-cabin walls. He's holding Günter's diary.

"What was it like? How long and wide was the blade? Was it shining with sublime grace and manliness?"

The image of Morgif flashes across the back of my head.

"...Just the opposite."

"Opposite? But it's the mightiest sword in the world, and it only obeys the Maou! Here, read this, Günter wrote about it here."

"No thanks. I can't read anyway."

"Oh, that's right. Hurry up and remember, then. It's so inconvenient."

I tumble into the bed parallel to his, lying on it spread-eagled and staring up at the ceiling.

"You know, I was thinking that since it's a king's sword, it would have a hilt with gaudy gold ornamentation or fine platinum craftsmanship, a guard with fretwork that could move an artisan to tears, stuff like that. And the haft-end would have a gemstone inserted—like a typical king's sword."

It would be a famous sword with the sharpest blade, something that you can use on anything from cutting up squid noodles to slicing puffer fish.

"But actually? It had a face that...a face that scares me just thinking about it, and even though I'm supposed to carry it and become its master, it b-b-bit my finger!"

"It bit you? That's odd. The Demon Sword Morgif is supposed to be absolutely obedient to the Maou...maybe it was hungry?"

"Hungry?! It's metal!"

Not that that's any weirder than a metal sword having a mouth, I guess.

"Okay, listen. Since Morgif has the power to absorb human life, it needs a supply of energy to be invoked. It's hard to say from the official records, but some history books claim that it likes young women...Günter made a detailed investigation."

"Does that mean that it k...kills people?! Wouldn't that make Melgib a vampire sword?"

"Weren't you listening when he explained at the castle? It doesn't always kill, necessarily, but...what are you panicking about, Yuuri? You're not thinking of yourself as a Human again, are you? You know what kind of people they are. Even though we saved their lives, they locked us up because we're Mazoku. Aagh, just thinking about it makes me angry."

"...I have nothing to say to such ingratitude."

The constant soul-searching a citizen of Japan is raised with is preposterous in the Twenty-Seventh Maou.

Thud! Wolfram shuts the mountain goat hide-bound diary.

"Anyway, returning without Morgif is out of the question."

"Right."

"I'll go with you tomorrow."

"Huh?"

He can't give me any real help even if he comes with me. Even Conrad, who could make short work of any sword master, couldn't move a finger to help me. But Wolfram is indifferent to my private waffling. He folds his arms and says rather happily, "Since you're a total wimp."

"Stop calling me a wimp!"

Ah.

The selfish prince with the angelic features and clear emerald eyes that remind you of the bottom of a lake. Abbreviate half-ironically, and you get selfish Pooh.

Wolfram always goes right to the point. He throws himself straight into any challenge.

He bores into both my mitt and my chest, but it's kinder and gentler than a lie.

"What? What are you grinning about?"

"...I was just thinking, it's been a while."

"What has?"

"You calling me a wimp."

"That's because you left the country. You left your people and your land to the care of others. You have no sense or consciousness of being a king. What's wrong with calling a wimp a wimp?"

"Nothing."

That's right, I'm just a wimp anyway, so it's not like I'm going to give up after making just one mistake.

The stain on the ceiling boards looks kinda like Melgib—it's actually a bit cute.

"That's true, huh. A new Prior Maou like me—I was never perfect anyway. The first time I went up to the batter's box in my first match, I took three good strikes—you never know how to attack a problem when you don't know anything about its character and type."

In the end, I got an infield hit.

But that's it.

"Wolf."

"What?"

I kick up my feet vigorously and use the reverse swing to leverage myself from the mattress.

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"I have no idea what for, but come with me anyway."

By the time I think 'oh damn,' it's already too late. I've already managed to step on the angel's detonator. A flush stains his white cheeks, and he goes off in his nerve-grating alto:

"How could you say that so flippantly? Why did I have to come with you on this horrendous journey anyway?—have you really, seriously thought about it at all? Because you proposed to me! Now I have to keep an eye on you so nothing happens to you on your journey! So you don't get involved with the wrong set or end up being burdened with feelings that you can't requite!"

"Huh? Oh, oh right! Yeah, that's right, I forgot, it just never even crossed my mind! So we haven't settled that one yet, huh?"

"You forgot—?!"

I instinctively cover my head with both arms.

"Okay, then why don't I dump you? 'I'm sorry, let's call it quits?'"

"Don't you dare! It would be a blow to my self-respect!"

"Oh, oh riiight, then why don't you reject me? 'I refuse your proposal.' I think my pride would be able to handle it just fine. I was the one in the wrong, so no help for it."

"I can't do that!"

"Why not? Is there some kind of rule about that? Some sort of religious reason?"

"Shut up!"

Wolfram stands straight up and opens the corner door without another word.

"Aaah, Wolf! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I was wrong! I'm apologizing, so don't lock yourself up in the closet!"

"Shut up, you skank!!"

Didn't that mean someone with light footwork?!

After a carbohydrates-oriented meal, the beautiful proprietress tells us about the festival.

You can get a great view of the flaming portable shrine being dashed down the next mountain from this inn, but it's believed to bring bad luck to see it from the side, so she cannot recommend it. The grand finale is at the arena near the harbor tomorrow evening, and we'll certainly regret it if we miss it. They had a large number of participants entered just before the event this year, so the spectacle will probably be an unusually large one.

C'est excitant!

Wolfram, who has no interest in human festivals, goes to bed immediately after finishing his wine.

I feel like getting drunk and airing all my grievances too, but I'm not going to smoke or drink as long as there's still any possibility that I haven't reached my full height yet. Instead, I lie in bed tracking the moon's course.

I get up in the middle of the night because I'm parched, but there's no water left in the pitcher. I open the closet door to get my coat and fetch some water.

"...Of course I wouldn't..." I hear through the thin wall separating us from the neighboring room.

"In the end my loyalty is to the kingdom. I will obey His Majesty's commands, however unreasonable. You of all people should know that. I just wanted to know our new king a little bit more, about what sort of a person he is."

"So you were testing him."

That's Conrad. There's the sound of a glass being set down on the table.

"Don't make it sound like it was such a big deal. I just want to be prepared, s'all. If this new lordling is gonna be like the last Maou, we soldiers need to resign ourselves. Resign ourselves to going to our deaths without a word, that is. Don't misunderstand me. I don't hate Lady Cäli, not at all—on the contrary, I love her more dearly than my own parents. But she was wrong. She didn't try to look at it all with her own eyes. That's why I want to know what the next era is going to be like, to be steeled for it."

"That's why I said—"

"It's true for you too, isn't it? How many of your soldiers did you lose? How many of your friends snatched away? If Lady Cäli had made her own decisions instead of leaving everything to Stoffel, maybe even Julia would still be..."

"Josak!"

Conrad, who rarely even raises his voice, slaps the table with obvious irritation.

"...From this point forward, if you say or do anything to mislead His Majesty, I will relieve you of your duties."

"Sorry, Lord Weller, Your Excellency does not have that authority. If you want to give me orders, then you'd better get your command back, 'cause you're hardly gonna spend the rest of your life babysitting His Majesty the new Maou, are you?"

"With His Majesty's permission, that is exactly what I intend to do."

"You've gotta be joking! Why would you give yourself up to that?! Are you sure you're not just deluded by his cuteness?! Don't tell me the man once called the Lion of Ruttenberg has lost his fangs..."

Conrad cuts Josak off with that eloquent smile I can see so clearly.

"Now you're dredging up the long-dead past."

"Stop being so humble. Oh yeah, you gave that to the lordling, huh? If young general Grantz saw it, it'd set his gray matter a-boiling."

I move softly away from the wall, pick up my coat and close the closet door.

Wolfram's quiet breathing is typical pretty-boy, but his eyes twitch, and their whites show from beneath his eyelids. He must be right in the middle of a dream. Taking great care to not wake him, I leave the room and steal a lamp from the front counter. I can see the illuminated Parthenon temple clearly from the mountain path. It's red and swaying and quite beautiful.

Voices swell into a roar, and the blazing shrine begins its downward dash with a train of torches following behind. The annual ceremony seeks to calm the God's fury and hold back further volcanic activity by reproducing the eruption that occurred two hundred years ago. Up until a hundred years ago they would offer up innocent girls, and countless lives were sacrificed that way.

All is noise and tumult on the next mountain, but I stand alone at the summit of this one. Let's get dressed up for the cave bathhouse in the middle of the night.

Only the graffiti welcomes me.

We were here, hey hey hey. I'm here too, and this is my second time. I'm all alone this time. Someone should compliment me, yay.

"...So what does 'Lion of Ruttenberg' mean, anyway?"

Someone like that believes in me.

I'm just a wimp of a king, but one that wants to evolve and come just a bit closer to being the right sort of man.

The spring's pungent water is as pleasant as it was this afternoon. I know where Morgif is. I set my steps down firmly and head towards him in the hip-deep warm water.

"Yo, Demon Sword."

The blade glows in the water.

All of a sudden my bravado fades, and my timid self reasserts itself. I'm strong of will but faint of heart.

"Hey, Melgib, I mean Morgif. This isn't 'hello,' 'cause we met each other this afternoon, do you remember? I'm Yuuri."

I'm Toraemon, I am Rika-chan. First-person self-introduction.

"I wanna...no, I came here to give you an invitation. You've been submerged here for fifteen years now, haven't you? If you came here for your health, you must be completely healed by now. No matter how much you like hot springs, your body will bloat and dissolve away if you're in here for that long. So isn't it about time you got out? There are lots of fun things to do outside, too, you know? I'd be happy to give you a hand if you lack the determination to get out by yourself, so don't bite me, okay? Promise?"

Bending, I timidly reach out my hand.

"Gyah!"

I involuntarily drop the lamp. The light disappears, and the place plunges into darkness. But I concentrate on my breathing, and after a little while the moonlight slanting in from the entrance softly illuminates the inside of the cave.

"...Why do you keep biting me? You're a sword! Ordinary swords don't have faces, you know?! And even when they do they're not alive, so they don't bite!"

The answer comes to me in a flash.

It's not ordinary. It is, after all, a demon sword. Of course it's not ordinary. Why does it bite? Because it has a mouth, because it's alive. It's alive.

I'm not picking up an object that shouldn't bite, I'm trying to catch something that's alive and most certainly bites. Yes, like a puppy with a biting quirk...though there is a world of difference in cuteness. Not that this has anything to do with anything, but how many times have I used the word 'bite?'

Aaaall right then, data and courage assemblage complete. This is our second match. Not knowing how to take the lead doesn't cut it anymore. I call a general mobilization of my memory to evoke what I felt in that moment.

The fragment of courage when I caught a pro ball for the first time in my life.

"If you're alive, you should have just said so right from the start. I'm not thinking of you as a sword anymore, dammit! You're a dog! Or if not a dog, then a negroshinoyamakishy!"

Yelling as the ball approaches slowly, rotating, straight-on. Shibuya, accuracy is important in catching. Always receive the ball straight-on. Morgif's hilt is propped up right in front of me. I position my hands, half-bent. Oh wait, you're supposed to pick up heavy objects from a squatting position. Your career as an athlete is over if you hurt your back.

I submerge myself up to my face and peer at the warped and swaying Morgif through the refraction of the warm water. He looks like Souseki on a bent note. I laugh.

"Koff! Ofay, Moogiff wibbe, leff go!"

Spring water flows into my nose and mouth. I grip the hilt, slender in proportion to the blade, and thrust myself upward with my knees. Morgif struggles for a moment, but finally slides out of the water and shows himself before me.

There's the sound of a blade cutting through the wind as he touches air for the first time in fifteen years.

"Aaah."

"...Aaah?"

"Woooo."

"...Hey com'on...you're not the wind..."

"Haaaaao."

Can he be singing?! This thing?!

"We-well, I guess whatever's alive sings. Like puppies barking and kittens purring."

Oh yeah, and kittens are supposed to go 'meh meh.'

But what kind of a sword is this, anyway? He has a face instead of jewels or carvings, and moans and groans to assert himself. But my grip on the hilt is comfortable, and he fits my hand exactly. Like holding a familiar bat.

I walk back past the graffiti so I don't have to keep listening to the demon sword's groans. Man, I'm a daredevil, too.

When I step out into the moonlit night, Conrad is waiting for me with his hands on his hips.

I can't see his face with the moon behind him.

"I know you're grinning."

"How did you know that?"

"I know exactly what expression you're wearing even when I can't see you."

See? I was spot-on.

He spreads his arms wide in welcome and wraps me in a bath towel.

"So you did it."

"I did it! How about it? The king's sword."

"Brilliant."

"Brilliant? But look at him, this weird face. And he talks, too! Oh, and he's got a mole in the same place as the Buddha."

He's not golden and shining or encrusted with jewels or made of any special alloy, but he's got a tiny black stone the size of a small soybean right in the middle of his forehead.

"Hmmph, I don't think he's brilliant at all."

"I didn't mean Morgif. I meant you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you, Yuuri."

He keeps saying these things that set my teeth on edge with such frankness. I have to practice swinging the demon sword a few times to hide my blush. Left foot pulled up, pendulum batting form. The bat, rather than whistling through the air, makes a jarring, displeased moan.

"...Maybe this will make my approval rating go up a little."

"Approval rating?" My acting batting coach lifts his chin slightly in inquiry as he stands watching over my swings. Was that an unexpected choice of words?

"Yeah, my approval rating as a king. 'Cause it must be at rock bottom right now, right? None of my people care about me, and even the former prince and my Guard of the Inner Circle hate me."

"Josak is loyal to his duties, but feels no appreciation for Your Majesty. And as for Gwendal..."

Though no one's around, he lowers his voice.

"Gwendal doesn't hate you."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because he loves small cute things."

What?!

"Like kittens or squirrels or those hamsters you see so often on Earth."

"Eeeeh?!"

The towel falls from my hips and gently flutters to the ground. If Günter were here his nose would be bleeding again.