Chapter 1 A Fierce Battle Cry of Cock-a-Doodle-Doo… Huh? Why a Rooster?
Masato was surrounded by darkness. It felt like he’d woken up too early.
“Mm? Uh…”
He tried turning right, but bumped into a black wall.
He tried turning left and bumped into another.
“Kinda cramped… Oh, okay. I get it.”
Masato lay on his back again and raised his hands upward.
Pushing against the darkness above—against the lid. As it opened, light and the sound of birdsong poured in. It was morning.
Masato sat up, and the coffin dissolved.
“I’m amazed I can sleep that well in a coffin…but that’s not really something I should celebrate,” he grumbled, taking in his surroundings.
This was a room at their inn in Catharn. The same type they always used, minimal furnishings, two beds.
Someone had flung the windows wide open, and the light streaming in was blinding. He was forced to shield his eyes with the sleeve of his pajamas.
He looked at the other bed and saw a girl lying there. Her pajama top had rolled up, leaving her belly button on display.
“Mmm…sonny, let’s fight…mah…”
It was Fratello.
On the other bed was a woman in a skimpy negligee, sitting up with her chin on one hand, directing an alluring gaze his way.
“Good moooorning, Masatooo. Did you sleep weeeell?”
It was Sorella.
Fratello rolled over in her sleep. Masato looked at her, then up at Sorella, who waved.
He sighed.
“Whaaaat? You feeling siiiick?”
“No, nothing like that, just…”
“Spells work differently, depending on the caaaaster. We do need you dyyyying for the safety of us giiiiirls, but…perhaps it would be best if Wiiiise cast the death spell? Would you sleep better that waaaay?”
“I’ve long since accepted that death is what allows mixed-gender bedrooms, and frankly one coffin’s the same as any other. That’s not the problem…”
“Then I need to wake Fratello uuuup and chaaaange, so could you leeeeave?”
“You’re just gonna ignore me then.”
“Masatoooo, you can change in Mamako’s rooooom. I’m sure it’s empty by noooow. Go ooooon! Get ouuuut! You peeeerv!”
“I’m not a perv. But fine, fine, I’m going, geez.”
Grumbling, he grabbed his gear and left the room. Masato is such a gentleman.
“Look, I’ve got good manners. I’ll leave the room so they can change. That’s not the problem. That’s not what matters here.”
Masato finished changing and tossed his pajamas in the laundry basket as if trying to discard his disgruntled feelings along with them.
He headed for the dining room. From the hall he could hear the sounds of breakfast being prepared.
Tap, tap, tap. Another tap, tap, tap. And one more tap, tap, tap. Three knives striking boards.
“Mom’s a given, so then Wise? I don’t even want to consider Medhi as a possible cook, so…Porta? Or maybe Hahako? She’s staying here, too. Mm, probably her.”
He poked his head in the door, scanning the room. He found Porta first. She was setting the table, making sure every seat had chopsticks and a soy sauce vessel, going back and forth between the table and the china cabinet.
When Porta dashed around like this, the two mascots slung from her shoulder bag bounced around. Piita had been joined by another knit doll, twice the size—Piitamama. This one was a bit misshapen, but that was part of its charm.
And a lovely sign of the restored bond between mother and daughter.
“Porta’s setting the table, so the cooks are…”
He glanced to the kitchen.
“Oh, is that Ma-kun? I knew it! Good morning, Ma-kun!”
Mamako looked up from the quick-pickled cucumbers she was slicing. Her son sensor had gone off, and she flashed her unchanging smile at him. As expected.
Next to her…
“You overslept yesterday, but you’re up early today. Good for you, Masato.”
Hahako turned around, momentarily abandoning the quick-pickled eggplant she’d been slicing. She smiled, clearly enjoying herself more than necessary. Also expected.
So.
“Masato Oosuki! So good of you to join us. We need you to act as the judge and see which of us has sliced the most evenly!”
The girl slicing the pickled daikon spun around with an aggressive grin—not Wise, or even Medhi.
Instead of her black Rebellion cloak, she had an apron tied around her shoulders like a cape, completely missing the point of aprons. It was Amante.
Masato had a headache already.
“Come, Masato Oosuki! Judge this contest! This is no mere breakfast prep, but a duel! Make it snappy!”
“Leave me out of your dumb duels. And…”
“The apron? Heh-heh. You don’t get it, Masato Oosuki. This is all the rage among girls these days, the latest trend in apron fashion. Wise the Sage and Medhi the Cleric told me all about it. It is our little secret. My opinion of them both has improved greatly.”
“They totally tricked you, so…I’ll just apologize on their behalf. And come on already, let me—gah!”
Before he could get out what he’d been trying to say all morning, someone grabbed his collar, strangling him.
“I overslept a bit, but we’re here in time! Come on, Amante! This is a women’s duel!”
“You have no right to go up against Mamako and Hahako! Allow us to demonstrate.”
Masato’s attempted killers were two other girls, both wearing aprons in the usual location.
Wise and Medhi. They stormed into the kitchen, leaving Masato gasping in their wake. Facing Amante down with indomitable grins.
“You’re both wearing your aprons wrong!” Amante chided the two of them. “Girls should be more sensitive to the latest trends. Did you forget what you said last night? How foolish can you be?”
“Ohhh, sorry, we made that up. Never thought you’d actually believe it!”
“You WHAT?! Th-that’s not fair!”
“To fool your enemies, first fool your enemies. It’s fundamental. But we don’t have much time, so let’s get this cooking contest underway. I will do my best—”
““No, you won’t.””
Wise and Amante teamed up to gently push Medhi out of the kitchen.
Mamako, Hahako, Wise, and Amante finished up breakfast.
“Hahako, can you check on the flavor of the miso soup?”
“Certainly. My, that’s good. Should be ready to add the tofu.”
“Hey, Amante, could you not keep taking the lid off? You’ll let the steam out!”
“I—I know that, obviously! I was just checking to see if the rice kernels were standing properly! Humph!”
The kitchen was a little cramped, so there were many accidental shoulder bumps, hip shoves, or grind attacks. Very lively.
“M-Medhi!” Porta squeaked, seeing Medhi’s dark power seeping out again. “I can’t do all this myself! Could you please help?”
“Why, certainly,” Medhi replied. Then she drooped again, muttering, “Porta asked me to help, so I am… I’m not being shoved out of the way because I’d only cause a disaster… No, definitely not…”
As Porta tried to cheer her up, Sorella and Fratello rolled in, finally dressed, and helped set the table. “Morniiiing!” “We late?”
Eight women. Everywhere you looked, there was youth of all varieties—whether beautiful, cute, or pretty. And the smell of good food filled the air.
What a paradise! Faced with this bountiful harem…
“That’s the problem, though… Why are we all just going along with this? Please, people, think this through…”
The lone male party member should have been feeling extremely smug about all this, but instead, he was out in the hall, clutching his knees.
Breakfast was ready.
On one side of the big table in the center of the cafeteria were Mamako, Masato, and Porta. Across from them were Hahako, Wise, and Medhi. At the small table by the window were Amante, Sorella, and Fratello.
As always, the meal was extremely Japanese. When they’d worked their way through it and were sipping green tea, Masato decided this was his opportunity.
“Right, everyone, listen up. Heavenly Kings, you too. This is important.”
Amante immediately spun around to glare at him.
“Masato Oosuki! I, too, have something important to say. First.”
“Wh-what? Oh, I get it, you’re finally—”
“We were included in ‘everyone,’ but you then call us out specifically? What’s that supposed to mean? Enough of your discriminatory treatment! You can’t just ostracize people!”
“It’s not discriminatory, it’s a reasonable distinction! Fine, I’ll spell it out for you! You’re all being way too buddy-buddy! It doesn’t even make sense! Stop it!”
His voice rose to a shout, but Amante just snorted.
“Is that what this is about? Don’t be such a nitwit. We’re sworn enemies! We could never be buddy-buddy. Say, Wise the Sage, could you pass the teapot?”
“Sure thing! …Oh, it’s empty.”
“Oh myyy! Should I brew another pottt?”
“Don’t worry! This teapot still has some in it! Here!”
“Mm, thanks, Porta. Ya want some, too, Medhi?”
“Why, how thoughtful. You have excellent manners, Fratello.”
“Hey! Leave some for me! I asked first!”
Clearly a conversation between sworn enemies.
Masato was on the verge of hurling his mug at the floor.
“If it was just the three Kings, that would be one thing! But our party is just as bad! I mean, I get that we never really hated them or anything, but…we were still enemies! This isn’t right! It makes no sense! It’s wrong! We’ve gotta do the right thing here!”
“We are doing the right thing. Humph.”
“No, no, no, we obviously aren’t. Amante, let’s be clear. Do you even remember why you showed up outside the shop?”
“Of course! To challenge you to a final battle!”
“Exactly! You came here to fight! You made a decree and everything! And just as we thought we were finally gonna throw down…”
“But for all we talked about fighting, we’ve lost our skills, so we were sort of hoping against hope that you’d be nice and try to resolve things diplomatically, then when you guys got all fired up, too, we just, like, freaked out and—don’t make me explain this!”
“So that’s why you called a time-out just as we were about to attack. Trembling like newborn fawns, both hands held up, stammering, ‘S-s-stop!’”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Humph.”
Amante turned her back on him and took a noisy sip of tea. Like she had no intention of continuing this conversation.
For the sake of her dignity, perhaps it was best to forget the specifics of how their battle had been averted.
“Sigh…then, Sorella, what happened next? We agreed not to fight, right?”
“That’s riiiight. We decided to retreeeeat.”
“Except you didn’t. You’re still here!”
“Weeeeell, we thought about iiiiit…and we had nowhere to goooo.”
“Sounds like a thing you oughta know without thinking about it.”
This seemed like a reasonable statement to him, but Sorella looked hurt and turned her back. Sipping her tea. Refusing to discuss it further.
“Well, we were perfectly aware of that fact ourselves and, frankly, a bit worried about it…”
“Before we came cruisin’ for a fight, we checked up on y’all. We knew full well you folks were sleepin’ alone in an inn room built for two. Seein’ as ya got extra beds, we figured y’all can afford to put us up. It’s just bein’ practical.”
“Fratello, let’s put aside the fact that we’re enemies for a moment and focus on the math. If I’m staying alone in a room meant for two, that means there’s only one extra bed. Why did you think three extra people wouldn’t pose a problem? I’d like a practical explanation of that, please.”
Masato smiled like an elementary school teacher, but Fratello just turned her back on him. End of conversation. Nothing Masato could do about it. God damn it.
Masato picked up his mug to hurl it at the floor.
“Ma-kun, deep breath.”
Mamako plucked the innocent mug from his hand before it could shatter, whispering in his ear.
“Ma-kun, Mommy doesn’t think this is a bad thing. Certainly, we have history, but isn’t being friends with the three Four Kings actually a good thing?”
“Sure, and if they stop getting up to no good and causing problems for us and the world and everyone can live in peace, that’s good, but…”
But could they just go on like this? He didn’t think so.
Masato looked across the table, toward Hahako and their former enemies.
What do we do about that conflict?
Hahako had not said a word since their meal had started—because she was focused on a battle of her own.
She was doing everything she could to get closer to the three Kings, as they were candidates to be her children. But every time she tried shifting her chair toward them, Amante glared at her, fending off the advance. Hahako would shift her chair back. This dance had been playing on a loop the whole meal.
The Kings are resisting…but it doesn’t feel like they’re completely against the idea, either.
At first, their attitude had definitely been outright rejection. Beyond their aversion to mothers in general, she was clearly at the top of their shit list.
But here they were, all eating in the same room. The gulf between them had gone from seemingly infinite to…close enough to reach out and touch.
They’re one step away. They just need a catalyst…
And then maybe parent-child bonds could appear. The possibility felt tangible.
None of the Libere Kings would ever admit it, but perhaps they were sticking to Masato’s party in the hopes that this possibility would come to fruition. He hoped so anyway. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to hope.
In which case…
“We’ve spent so much time messing with other families. Preserving this tenuous peace isn’t a bad thing, but if there’s a better way of handling the situation, I’d want to do that instead. Maybe that’s a bit presumptuous of me, but…I guess I really am the kind of hero who works for parent-child relationships rather than the sake of the world. I’m as horrified as anyone.”
“Tee-hee, don’t be. It’s lovely! Mommy approves!”
He glanced sideways and saw Mamako all fired up. When she got excited like this, she breathed heavily, causing way too much wobbling. Total eye poison.
He took a moment to recover, then checked the other direction, scanning the rest of his party. Wise gave a shrug that said, “Why not?” Medhi and Porta were both nodding, Medhi with grace, Porta with enthusiasm.
Good friends to have.
“Right, in that case…let’s get specific. Anyone got any good ideas?”
He looked around. Porta was frowning, head tilted to one side. Clearly thinking very hard.
Meanwhile, Wise and Medhi both immediately looked away, avoiding his gaze. Such good friends.
“Then…Mom.”
“Let’s do our best! Yay!”
“Not that, like…more concrete suggestions, please.”
Masato gave her an expectant look, and Mamako met it with a smile.
A long smile. She just kept smiling.
“Yes,” she said at last. “Ma-kun, I know you can—”
“Honestly, I got absolutely nothing.”
The Libere Kings had attacked, decreed their final battle…and instead of fighting, were just freeloading.
And Masato’s party had an idea of what their general approach should be…but were unable to think of any concrete steps to make that happen.
They’d been stuck like this for a week now.
Once breakfast was over, they headed to the place where family problems were solved—the Mom Shop.
It looked like a fancy café, and when you opened the door, a pleasant chime rang.
“Hello! Welcome to…?”
The Mom Shop was permanently manned by Mone, who came rushing out from behind the counter with a cheery customer service smile. This look soon faded to a frosty scowl.
“The Libere Lunatics are still with you?”
“So sorry. Masato Oosuki insists we stay, so what choice do we have? Humph!”
“We caaaan’t turn down a request.”
“Mm. ’Specially not from sonny here.”
“Quit lying!”
“Well, if your party is keeping an eye on them, I don’t mind. Come on in.”
Mone seemed to have gotten used to visits from members of the secret society that had shaken the world to its core. Her attitude was much more like a clerk dealing with customers who only stopped in because they had nothing better to do with their sad lives.
The three Kings seemed used to that, too.
“Dark God Mammone! Yesterday you ran out of tea—have you resupplied?”
“Did that first thing this morning. It’s on the shelf there, so help yourself. And quit calling me that! How many times do I have to tell you?”
Amante was already behind the counter making tea.
“Sooooo…let’s all play pooooker. Wiiiiise! Medhiiiii! Ready to pay uuup?”
“I’m not letting you get a single mum today! I’m winning back everything you pilfered…everything you’re holding for me! No cheating!”
“Don’t worry, I’ve asked Porta to keep an eye on her. If there’s anything strange, she’ll—”
“Ah! Medhi, there’s a card up your slee—mmph?”
“Porta, hush your mouth.” Medhi smiled.
Sorella took over one corner of the counter, opening her gambler’s area. Wise and Medhi were her main customers—the latter busy pinching Porta’s lips shut. Wish them luck.
Nearby, Fratello was grunting as she worked out. She could now do five whole push-ups. Then she checked her muscles. They were coming along nicely!
They’d been here only a few minutes…
Masato let out a long sigh.
“They all just make themselves at home.”
“It’s far better than them making trouble, right? As for me…rubrub!”
“Augh, Mone! No surprise hugs! I mean, I get that it’s necessary, but try and minimize the time spent rubbing your face on me.”
“She has to be spoiled regularly, or her power will run amuck! Rubrub.”
“If that thirst isn’t quenched, the consequences will be dire! Rubrub.”
“Mom, Hahako, there’s no need for me to spoil either of you!”
Pushing back the opportunistic nuzzlers, Masato took a seat, and the other three joined him.
Mone was next to him, plastered to his side, and Mamako and Hahako were seated opposite him, smiling at the two of them—a situation that was definitely putting Masato’s mind through the wringer.
Amante came stomping over. Without a word, she put four teacups and cakes down in front of them, and then stomped away.
“…Not the best manners, but not long ago I would never have imagined Amante serving Mom anything.”
“That’s right. It seems her attitude toward mothers has improved a lot! I’m so glad. I think you may yet have some hope, Hahako.”
“I’d love that, but…I’m not so sure.”
Hahako picked up the tea that Amante had made and brought it to her lips, savoring the taste. “Lovely,” she said with a beatific smile. The smile of a mother doting on her child.
“Feels like you’re one step away. But somebody’s gotta make the final move. You can’t just wait for it. I mean, it’s been a week already! Like, what are you doing?”
“Mone’s right, but…we just can’t think of a good approach. Do you have any ideas, Mone? I suppose that’s one reason why we came to the shop.”
“Handling the difficult relationship problems is your job, Masato. You’re the ones who have ideas. And we had this conversation yesterday, and the day before.”
“I know…”
He had a gloomy feeling they were going to be doing this tomorrow and the day after, too.
“Don’t worry! It’ll all work out,” Mamako said firmly. She smiled. And kept smiling.
Just like she had at breakfast.
“Uh, Mom, do you actually have a basis for that? Like, something that’s already in action, or something you’re just waiting for the cards to align on?”
“Tee-hee. Good question!” She smiled.
“Suspicious…”
His sonstincts told him something wasn’t quite right. Masato focused his mind, feeling their psychic connection. It got him nowhere. But just as he was about to give up…
The chime on the door rang. Inside the doorframe stood a nun…
“Everyone, good morn—gahhh!”
“Is Moko here? Oh, right, we’re in the game! I should call you Porta.”
Their usual quest giver was flung aside with all the force of a car crash, revealing a woman in ordinary villager clothes and glasses.
This woman had once been permanently exhausted, torn between the twin stressors of work and child-rearing. But now she was looking around the shop with expectation and hope.
“Oh! Mommy! My mommy’s here!”
“Yes, it’s your mommy! My daughter! My adorable daughter! Let me give you a big hug! Let me savor your presence bodily!”
This was Porta’s mom, Saori. Porta went dashing over to her, and Saori swept her into a hug for the ages.
A Mother’s Light activated immediately. An explosion of joy that sent blinding light in all directions.
“Good morning! You look great! I’m so happy!” Rubrub!
“Yes! I’m doing great! Are you, Mommy?! I hope so!”
“Of course! I’m great, too! I couldn’t wait to see you again, so I woke up before dawn and started doing crunches for no reason! That’s how great I’m doing! Did you eat breakfast?” Rubrubrubrub!
“I did! Mama’s cooking and Hahako’s cooking and Amante’s cooking were all really good!”
“Th-that’s nice! Then I’ll have to get just as good at cooking! Will you eat what I make you?” Rubrubrubrubrubrub!
“Yes! I want to eat your cooking, Mommy!”
“Great! I’ll do my best!” Rubrubrubrubrubrubrubrub!
It was impossible to see anything through the light, but Saori was rubbing Porta’s cheek! And rubbing her cheek on Porta’s cheek! And rubbing Porta’s head! And rubbing her cheek on Porta’s head! Rubbing her everywhere rubbing could be done!
A touching reunion between a mother and a daughter parted by fate.
“…Um, Saori? I hate to interrupt, but—”
“Oh, Masato! Thanks for looking after my adorable daughter! Thank you for being so kind to her! What is it?”
“You’re under arrest on suspicion of murder.”
There was a single coffin lying in the entrance to the Mom Shop. With you-know-who inside.
Medhi cast a resurrection spell.
“Let us begin again! Good morning, everyone. As you’re aware, I am Shiraaase. And though I need not infooorm you again, this is not Saori Hotta, but Dark-Mom Deathmother. Make sure you don’t get that wrong.”
“Shiraaase, please, forgive me… At least show some mercy with the outfit…”
“Don’t worry, Mommy! Even if your account name is a bit strange, and your outfit is trying way too hard, you’re still my mommy!”
“Thank you. But this is a shame I’d prefer to leave buried in my past. Having it dug up like this is making me want to cry.”
Black armor. A Rebellion coat. Horns. Her name—Dark-Mom Deathmother.
A name worthy of a JRPG final boss—with an outfit to match. Forced back into this form, Deathmother was sitting awkwardly on a chair. Frankly, this was a pretty mild punishment for murder, so she should count herself lucky.
Their guests were Shiraaase and Saori—er, Dark-Mom Deathmother. Porta was still plastered to the latter. On the other side of the table were Mamako, Hahako, and Mone.
“With introductions complete, allow me to infooorm you of the reason for our visit.”
“Please do, Shiraaase. What brings you and Deathmother here? Good news?”
“Even Mamako’s calling me that…sniff…” Deathmother choked back a sob. “But you’re right. Our preparations are complete. We just have the final checks.”
“Which means…are you three ready to serve as padding?” asked Shiraaase.
“What are we, cushions? Whatever.”
Masato, Wise, and Medhi were seated at the counter.
The three ex–Libere members were behind it, looking glum. Hackles raised, keeping as far from their former boss, Dark-Mom Deathmother, as they could.
“It’s our job to keep the three Four Kings from doing anything stupid? Got it.”
“Well then.”
Shiraaase looked back at Deathmother and nodded.
“Amante, Sorella, Fratello. Today I can infooorm you…no, inform you of something very important.”
“Huh…? No extended o’s? You’re Shiraaase, but just ‘informing’ like normal? No way!”
“Oh deeear! Shiraaase isn’t goooooofing around! This is gonna be, like, seriooooous!”
“Mm…I’m trembling with anticipation! Like a warrior!” Fratello was shaking like a leaf.
“Correct. This is of the utmost importance. Listen carefully.”
For once, even Shiraaase looked tense.
“Management has officially approved your designation as a family: Hahako as your mother and, in order of age, Sorella as the eldest daughter, Amante as the second daughter, and Fratello as the third daughter.”
A silence fell. Mamako started clapping, and Mone soon joined her. Their applause echoed through the room.
Hahako clapped both hands over her mouth, stunned.
The three Kings were staring wide-eyed, mouths agape, frozen to the spot.
“Oh? Surprising. I expected vehement resistance. Perhaps things will work out after all. Families forever!”
“Th-that’s not true at all! We’re vehement! Just…Masato Oosuki!”
“Ow!”
Amante had smacked him upside the head. Damage: 1.
“Th-that’s riiiight! We’re resisting violentlyyyy! Wiiiise!”
“Ow! No, wait, that didn’t actually hurt.”
Sorella had slapped Wise. Damage: 0.
Fratello raised a hand to Medhi…
“What’s that hand for?” She smiled.
“…Nothin’! Spare me the terrifyin’ grin!”
Sensing danger, Fratello quickly turned. “She spooked you?” “She did not!” And punched Masato in the face. Damage: 1.
That was the extent of the Kings’ resistance.
“I kinda figured this would happen. So are you feeling up to it? Are you at least a little curious?”
“I—I dunno about that! It’s just…Hahako did save us, and maaaaybe I got to wondering what having a mom would be like, but I’m not going to explain that! Ha!”
“You just did, though. Not that it matters.”
“As for me and Fratellooooo, Medhi’s mother treated our injuriiiiies, and that got us thinkiiiing. Stiiiilll…you can call use a familyyyy, but we don’t really get iiiiit. We’ve never had parents befoooore. And never been anyone’s childreeeeen.”
“Er…then what?”
“Sonny, all we ever had was a desire to rebel against the dominion of parents. Never knew nothin’ more. So nothin’ doin’. See ya around.”
“No, wait, where are you going?”
The three of them were ducking under Hahako’s gaze, quickly moving to the door.
They stopped at the entrance, staring at the ground.
“If you want to make Hahako our mother, suit yourself. That’s just an easy change in our files. Knock yourself out.”
Amante’s voice was half lonely, half apathetic. And with that, they left the Mom Shop.
Soon, their heads were visible in the window. They didn’t go far. Masato decided that was a relief.
Wise and Medhi were both looking at him. Both thinking the same thing. But Masato didn’t have an answer.
“…Shiraaase, can you inform us?”
“Very well.”
“Wait, I’ll do it. I’m the cause of everything, after all.”
Dark-Mom Deathmother sat up and pushed Porta upright, too.
“Amante, Sorella, and Fratello are all NPCs. They were originally created as background adventurers, but the character designs were a bit too distinctive, to the point where they threatened to outshine the player characters, so they were never fully implemented.”
“So they were originally scrapped? That’s a brutal backstory.”
“But going from that to the Four Kings is a huge promotion,” noted Wise.
“It seemed a shame to just throw them out, so I was looking for another use. I originally meant to make them guards for my daughter, to go on adventures with her in my stead.”
“Huh…that explains why they were never able to be mean to her. Parts of that code are still live.”
“And there were always four rooms ready in every lair,” said Medhi. “Were those originally…?”
“Exactly. I intended for them to be bases for my daughter’s party. I had my subordinates secretly place them all over the world.”
“Abuse of workplace authority, all in the name of parental affection.”
“You’re merciless, Medhi. But…also on the money,” Dark-Mom Deathmother admitted, stroking Porta’s head.
She’d done it all for her beloved daughter. That was both delightful and not quite cause for celebration. Even Porta wore a complicated expression, though she didn’t try to escape the head rubs.
“But just before they were fully implemented, the stress got to me, and I changed my plans. Amante, Sorella, and Fratello were adjusted based on data from rebellious children and sent out to fight against the concept of a world made for family bonding. I did that to them. And I forced them to do my bidding.”
“But everything ended well, and now they’re trying to change. That’s what ‘all’s well that ends well’ means. Hee-hee.”
Mamako looked as cheery as Dark-Mom Deathmother did gloomy.
No gloom could stand against that smile.
Masato’s entire party agreed with Mamako—it had ended well. They were all nodding.
“And now that the final checks are complete, let’s discuss the future!”
“Yikes, way to shatter the mood! Why are you all fired up?”
Shiraaase had leaped to her feet—possibly frustrated by not being the one in charge of informing people. She turned to Hahako, who blinked at her.
“Hahako, let us begin by hearing your position. Do you have any objection to making the three Kings your children?”
“Of course not. I’d be glad to have them. But if we are simply rewriting their data and forcing them to be my children, then I’m afraid I must refuse.”
“Don’t worry about that. Management has simply decreed they are allowed to be your children. Nothing is decided yet.”
“In other words, they’re ready to make the change if we request it?”
“Exactly. Frankly, given your connection to the main system, Hahako, you can change the data yourself. You chose not to. No matter how much they rejected you, you persevered, patiently trying to connect with them. Reprogramming their minds would be easy, but it would be nothing but an insult to your feelings—to a mother’s emotions. We would never do that.”
“I see…thank you. I’m grateful for management’s sound judgment.”
“You’re welcome. On the other hand, it does seem like this decision makes it more difficult for you to ever be family. That can only be achieved if Amante, Sorella, and Fratello change voluntarily. As for how we can encourage that…hmm.”
Shiraaase made a show of pondering the matter and then turned to Masato. She raised a hand.
“Excuse me, can I place an order? The usual, please.”
“Don’t act like one of our regulars! But fine, I get it. You’re just throwing the whole thing to us, like always.”
“Management will be in charge of things this time,” explained Deathmother. “We’ve got a lovely event in store for you. It’s quite a pretty big deal, the kind of thing you only get going if a producer calls in a lot of favors. I basically bullied everyone into it. It was textbook power harassment, if I’m being honest.”
“…Mommy…” Sniff.
“Moko?! I’m not a mean person, I promise! The schedule was just a bit tight, but all I did was ask my subordinates nicely if they could work a little harder!”
“But before I infooorm you of the details, we’d better convince the event’s targets to participate.”
The heads of the three Kings were still lined up right outside the window.
They were leaning against the exterior wall of the Mom Shop, doing nothing. Passersby were giving them funny looks, but they didn’t care. All three girls were simply staring at their feet.
They must have noticed when Masato’s party came outside.
“Where do they rewrite our data?” Amante asked. “Go on, take us there.”
Her lips quivered. She didn’t look up.
“Don’t just give in like that, damn. What do you think?”
“Maybe we should try punching them? Yell ‘Screw you!’ and go in swinging like always?”
“Very well, Wise,” said Medhi. “Please, rain attack spells down on your defenseless opponents in full view of the public eye.”
“Phrasing! That’s not what I meant… Fine, what do we do?”
“I could make some medicine to make them feel better!” offered Porta.
“Not the worst idea, but this problem is mental, not physical—not sure your medicines would do the trick. Which means…”
“This is Mommy’s job! I have an idea,” Mamako said, stepping forward.
But even faced with the ultimate mom, the Kings did not respond.
“Girls, a moment, please? Ready?”
Looking grave, Mamako put her hand on her hip and raised an index finger.
“Er…is that…n-n-no, wait a minute!”
“Eeeeeeeek! Why, whyyyyy? Is she gonna fire that thiiiing?”
“Good-bye, life…”
The Kings clutched each other, tears streaming, as Mamako prepared to unlock the ultimate move, the laser cannon of scolding!
Apparently.
“Let’s call this our final battle!”
Mamako said, smiling. She waggled her finger gently.
The three girls stared up at her, mouths agape. Then they scrambled to their feet.
“A final battle? Okay, fine. You don’t need to explain that! We’ll die in combat, like true warriors! And when we wake up, we’ll be different people. Fine. Let’s fight!”
“Wait, not like that. We’re not fighting with swords and magic. Instead—there’s an event starting soon. Let’s all join that event and settle things there.”
“An eveeeeent? Whaaaat? What kind of eveeeent?”
“A special one, designed to allow parents and children to share their feelings and build wonderful memories together. You’ll learn more once you join in.”
“And how in the heck is that gonna settle it?”
“If the three of you accept your mother and decide to be her children, we win. If that doesn’t happen, hmm…”
Mamako thought about it and then turned to her party.
What should they do if this didn’t work? Masato, Wise, Medhi, and Porta all frowned, tilting their heads to one side. No ideas came.
“Um…Amante, what do you think?”
“Don’t ask me! Figure it out yourselves! No need to do all this…beating around the bush! Just rewrite our data.”
“I’m not letting them do that.”
The wall of the building suddenly morphed outward, turning into Hahako.
“I don’t want anyone but the three of you as my children. I want you as you are now. If it’s a different version of you, it doesn’t count.”
Her feelings were palpable, and earnest.
Hahako’s gaze and words landed direct hits on the girls, leaving them stunned—and then their faces turned red, and they all stared at the ground.
“Where did that come from…? Geez, you can’t just—”
“I’m sorry to flummox you like that. But I meant every word. I’m serious about this. Will you please join us in this event?”
“Uuuumm, I thiiiink…if Amante’s in, then I am, tooooo.”
“Yeah, if y’all are in, then I might as well tag along.”
“You’re putting this all on me? Argh! Arghhhh!”
Amante stomped her foot a few times, at a loss. Then she thrust a finger out toward Hahako.
“Fine! We’ll join this dumb event! On one condition!”
“And that is?”
“If we win this match, then you decide what to do with us! Don’t force me to make any more decisions! Got it?!”
“Sounds like the worst possible use of a victory.”
“It seems you’ve talked them into it!” Shiraaase said, sweeping out of the shop. “Let’s get going.”
Behind her was Dark-Mom Deathmother, hiding behind Mone so as to avoid antagonizing the three Four Kings.
“Get going? To where? Are you gonna explain this?”
“I figured it would be best if I dole out the infooormation a little at a time, tormenting you all. One, two, three…twelve of us in all. Quite a large party.”
Mamako, Masato, Wise, Medhi, and Porta.
Hahako, Amante, Sorella, and Fratello.
Shiraaase, Dark-Mom Deathmother, and…
“Huh? Wait, me too?” Mone said, pointing at herself in surprise.
Shiraaase nodded. “It would never do to leave you out, would it? Why not join everyone this time?”
“I’m glad to be part of things, sure, but…honestly, I don’t care about the Libere Kings.”
“Ha-ha-ha! Perhaps a bit too honest.” Shiraaase cackled.
“Rude!” “Ruuuude!” “Mm.” All three Kings of the Libere Rebellion turned and smacked Masato. “Why me?!” He just happened to be standing closest to them.
“Well, regardless of your interest in them, our next destination is where the Dark God Mammone was originally going to be placed. What do you say, fancy a visit home?”
“Huh, really? I would like to check that out! Uh, but…”
“Don’t concern yourself about the Mom Shop. I’ve called in a pinch hitter. She’ll be here any moment…oh, there she is.”
An extremely nondescript woman was coming down the street.
She waved when she saw Mone—this was Mone’s mother, Leene.
“Oh, Mommy! You’re gonna take over the shop?”
“I am. I heard all about it. Take a nice long look at the place where you were supposed to be.”
“Thanks! Oh, but I promise I’ll come back. I mean, I’m—”
“Of course, dear daughter. Dark God or not, you’re my precious little Mone.”
“Yeah! And you’re my mommy! I love you!”
Mother and daughter embraced. “Mommy!” “You’re so spoiled!” And Mone absorbed her dose of spoiling. Lots of nuzzling was involved. And so Mone’s affection reserves were filled to the brim.
Amante watched this closely.
“…Masato Oosuki,” she said. “Are they not actually mother and daughter?”
“Technically speaking, no. Mone is a Dark God, and her mother, Leene, is an ordinary person. Mone had nowhere to go, so Leene took her in. They didn’t start out as mother and daughter. But they sure are now.”
“Hmmmm… I seeeeee…”
“Ya don’t even have to be related to be family, eh…? Well, I’ll be damned…”
Sorella and Fratello were watching, too, eyes bleary and dazed, respectively.
There was no need to rush this journey. They had to work toward it, one step at a time, one impression and feeling after another.
Masato’s party could wait until the three Kings were—“Oh, I feel dizzy…” “Mommy?!” Mone had absorbed too much, and Leene keeled over. The Kings’ observation of family bonds in action came to an abrupt end.
The party set out. All twelve of them tromping along down the road out of Catharn, into the fields outside.
The monsters quivered in fear, the difference in strength clear, but, “Don’t worry, we won’t attack good children!” “““Squeee!””” Mamako just pet them all.
They were headed to the transport point on the dais above. At the top of a long flight of stairs was a magical circle, surrounded by stone pillars.
“This will take us to the Transport Palace, and from there to a world on a different server?”
“We’re not changing servers this time. Just using this facility to allow us to transfer to a unique location ordinary transport spells can’t access. Deathmother, prepare the Key Items.”
“We’re sticking with that name, then? You’re so persistent.”
Dark-Mom Deathmother held up her hand. Above her head, a monstrous shoulder bag appeared out of thin air, its mouth yawning open. She pulled three items out of it.
The first was a small, lidless square box. The kind used to measure liquids and grains in traditional cooking. A masu.
Next, a small bottle. The label said, VINEGAR. Su.
Finally, something round and covered in spikes, like a sea urchin. It was actually a chestnut still in its burr. A kuri.
“For Key Items, these sure are rather mundane household objects…”
“Heroes! Hold aloft the Key Items, and summon the portal to the Forbidden Realm!”
“Fine, we’ll do it,” Wise grumbled. “But this is gonna make us look real stupid.”
“I see that smirk, Amante,” Medhi snapped. “We’ll have words about this later.”
Masato took the chestnut, Wise the vinegar, and Medhi the box. They held them aloft, wincing.
And a huge door appeared over the transport point. Bells rang, and the door slowly swung open.
Beyond the door was an unspoiled field of snow and trees covered in ice, glittering in the sun.
“This lies at the edge of the Catharn Kingdom. The highest mountain in the Motherest Mountains, Mount Motherest itself. Are you ready?”
“It’s so beautiful!” Porta gasped. “And…whoa…it’s so cold!”
“Don’t worry, we’ve prepared warm clothes. Here.”
The monster shoulder bag opened its maw once more. Out came winter coats, scarves, gloves, and earmuffs.
Dark-Mom Deathmother’s primary occupation was Merchant. With the mom boosts, she possessed an infinite supply of any item. Nothing was left out. Masato’s party were able to pick whatever winter gear they liked.
But the three Heavenly Kings just stood and watched, not trying to equip anything.
“Yo, what are you doing? Join in!” shouted Masato.
“We have our Rebellion coats. We’re not cold!”
“Really? I mean, Sorella and Fratello are at least wearing their coats, but you’ve just got yours slung over your shoulders, Amante! At least put your arms through the sleeves.”
“I said I’m not cold! Humph!”
Amante spun around and led the other two through the door. “Crap, that’s…er, so not cold!” An icicle formed instantly at her nose, and she snapped it off and threw it away.
Dark-Mom Deathmother watched them trudge away, saying nothing.
“Geez, they’re so stubborn…I’m gonna go yell at ’em.”
“Wait, Masato,” Deathmother said. “It’s fine. It’s not me they need to worry about now. Let them focus on their relationship with Hahako.”
She’d created the Libere Kings and used them as she pleased.
This left a deep rift between them.
So they’ve got issues with the mother looking after them, and the one who created them…would be nice if we could resolve both.
But chasing after two rabbits would get you neither. It was probably best to focus on a single objective for now.
“If you say so, Deathmother. We’ll do it your way.”
“Thank you. But Masato, if you really wish to consider my feelings, please…stop calling me by that painful name.”
“Deathmother, let’s go,” said Wise.
“Deathmother, watch your step, the snow is very deep,” cautioned Medhi.
“Mommy Deathmother! Can I walk with you?”
“Hurry up, Deathmother, or we’ll leave you behind!”
“I know you’re not bad children, but why do you have to do this? …Is someone setting a bad example…?”
“Deathmother, shall we proceed? I can infooorm you the rest of us are leaving.”
“Aha. The root of all evil.”
“Let’s give this everything we’ve got, Deathmother! Yay!”
“Deathmother, if we don’t hurry, we’ll lose sight of the children. Come on!”
“You’re trying to cheer me up because I seem depressed, is that it? I’m choosing to believe it is.”
Tears streaming down her face, she stepped into the frozen world.
“Right, everyone! You know you wanna yell it, so let’s go! One, two, three—”
““““Snowwww!””””
Snow, snow, snow! Gleaming white in all directions!
Masato scooped up some soft, white powder and balled it up. “Okay, Masato versus everyone!” “Who chose those teams?!” An all-out snowball fight broke out.
Then they struck strange poses, falling over in the snow, seeing who could leave the silliest imprint. “And then bury Masato Oosuki alive!” “““Yeah!””” “Why?!” A Masato-shaped snowman was formed. Laughter rang out as the party forged onward…
After about half an hour of this, everyone got really tired.
The snow field seemed endless. It was very hard to walk through. Exhausting.
Masato glared up at the three Four Kings, who were riding on a giant magic tome, and sighed.
“…Shiraaase, how much farther?” he asked.
“Good question. It shouldn’t be long now.”
“We’re not, like, lost, are we? ’Cause I’ll be pissed if we are,” said Wise.
“No need to fret. I can see the landmark ahead.”
Shiraaase pointed. There was a pointy treetop in the distance, covered in ice. The way the sun hit it made it sparkle like holiday lights. It was lovely.
They could see it, but…no matter how far they walked, they still couldn’t make out the whole tree. Even after thirty minutes.
And then…
“Wait a second…the clouds…the winds picking up…that’s not a good sign…”
“Weather in these mountains can be fickle. In the blink of an eye, a blizz—”
BLIZZARD. Suddenly pounded by furious wind and snow, Shiraaase was instantly coffinized.
“Oh my! How awful! Everyone, gather close!”
“This calls for desperate measures! Use Shiraaase’s coffin as a shield! Quick!”
“Eek! You don’t have to be Shiraaase to die in this!”
Mamako and Hahako pulled out their respective Terra di Madres and tried erecting an earthen barrier, but the weight of the snow kept the ground where it was.
There was a thud nearby as the magic tome landed, the Libere Kings frozen stiff on the back of it. They were done for.
“An item to warm them…whoa! My bag is frozen! I can’t open it!”
“Don’t worry. Leave this to Mommy…huh? Mine, too?!”
Dark-Mom Deathmother’s shoulder bag was blasted by the blizzard, turning into a giant snowball and falling to the ground.
Shiraaase’s coffin, the magic tome with the three Kings frozen to it—with no better options, they lined these up, forming a barrier against the horizontal snow.
Huddled together and shivering, Masato’s party was soon buried alive.
“Crap, crap, crap, cold, cold, crap, cold!”
“I know it’s cold! Don’t keep chanting it!”
“Wise, Mone, stay quiet. Very quiet…zzz…”
“Don’t fall asleep, Medhi! Eyes open! Augh…my eyelids are so heavy…”
“We’re in grave danger. My power will get us out of this! I was so close to having my wish granted…we’d come so far. It’s a shame, but this is the only way!”
Hahako put her arms around the frozen Kings, and then white hands reached out from every inch of her body.
These hands wrapped themselves around everyone, pulling them down beneath the surface of the snow. Into the sea of data that made up the game world—a trick only Hahako could pull off.
But…
“Wait! Moments like these must be solved with parent-child bonds! Let us overcome this with the power of mothers!”
Mamako’s voice rang out, every bit as loud as the howling blizzard winds.
Hahako slowly lifted her head, looking up at Mamako.
And so did the other mother. Porta was in her arms, falling asleep. Dark-Mom Deathmother slapped her own cheeks hard, looking grim.
“The power of mothers…yes! That’s true! We’re all mothers!”
“I have little experience as one, but this is exactly the time for me to grow as a mother! What mother could fail to protect her precious child?”
“That’s the spirit! Come on, you two! There’s only one thing to do here!”
Mamako, Hahako, Dark-Mom Deathmother—all three nodded.
And took off their clothes.
“What the—nooooo, don’t warm us with your fleeeeesh!”
“““Huh? What’s wrong with it?”””
Masato forced his eyes open, sensing a threat to his sanctity.
He found himself face-to-face with three topless mothers, one his own. Skin as white as the driving snow, six round swellings—Dark-Mom Deathmother was every bit as gifted as the other two.
It was all very soft and warm. And warmth was exactly what he needed right now, but…
“Don’t worry, Masato. I can’t feel cold. I’m fine, even without my clothes.”
“Maybe you’re fine, Hahako, but that’s not my concern here! Flesh contact is strictly prohib—oh crap, I’m getting sleepy again…”
“Ma-kun! Hang in there! Oh dear. If we can’t warm him physically…oh, I know! Just like before!”
Mamako swiftly fixed her clothing and then took Masato’s hand in hers.
Pat, pat, pat. Pat, pat, pat. She tapped out a gentle rhythm.
Uh…what the heck is she doing?
Completely baffled, Masato felt even more ready to pass out.
But then a memory came back to him, like his life passing before his eyes.
A winter’s day. Masato was playing in a snowy area meant for kids.
He’d been busying himself alone, making a big snow pile, and his hands had turned all red.
“Mommyyy! My hands hurt! Wahhh!”
“Oh my! They’ve gotten so cold. I’ll tell you what…”
Now and then, Mamako was permanently young. She put his hands in hers and went pat pat pat, pat pat pat, tapping them lightly.
“Sniff…Mommy, what are you doing?”
“I tap you six times—that’s called rokubute. Do you know what that means? Can you say it backwards?”
The scene from his memories faded.
“…Huh? I’m all warm.”
Masato’s mind cleared. He wasn’t cold anymore. Even his face felt normal. A second ago he’d been totally freezing, but…
A special mom skill. The name—Rokubute Mom.
To clarify, Rokubute means “six taps,” but if you write it backward, you get tebukuro—the Japanese word for “gloves.”
The gloves Mom had woven for him were six times warmer and protected Masato’s entire body! They applied the Null Freeze status!
“So you developed another weird power…but it definitely helped. Thanks.”
“I’m glad you’re safe, Ma-kun. I’ll have to do the same for Wise, Medhi, and Mone. The other children have their own mothers looking after them.”
“That’s right,” agreed Hahako. “I, too, am a mother.”
“I’m not too sure I can do it as well as Mamako, but as a mother, I have to try! I know one thing for sure—my love for my daughter is every bit as strong.”
Dark-Mom Deathmother started patting Porta’s hands. Pat pat pat. Pat pat pat. Patpatpatpatpatpat…it took eighteen pats before Porta’s eyes finally opened. Success!
The other three were soon pulled from their dangerous slumber by Mamako’s swift treatment. “Mm?” “Oh?” “Huh?” All safe and sound.
As for Hahako…
“I know I can do it. I’ll prove I can.”
She used Rokubute Mom on the frozen Kings. Her powerful desire to become a mother activated. Cracks appeared in the ice covering them—and the ice shattered.
Saved, the Libere Kings were eternally grateful, the distance between them—
“Hahako, let go of our hands! What are you doing?”
“Well, um…I’m not sure…”
“It was snoooowing…and we got sleeeepy…and that’s the last thing I remembeeeer.”
“Hahako did somethin’. Can’t let yer guard down!”
“Hee-hee-hee. I’m sorry. But I’m glad you’re all safe. That’s all that matters.”
Their obliviousness and Hahako’s natural reserve had left things unchanged. How unfortunate.
Anyway…
The blizzard had stopped, and the skies had cleared. The snowfield was sparkling again.
Everyone but Shiraaase was safe and sound, so they set off once more.
“No telling when the weather’s gonna turn again,” said Masato. “We’d better hurry.”
“No time to waste. Which means…”
“From here on, it’s a gentle downslope. Let’s make this quick—using this sled.”
Medhi pointed at Shiraaase’s coffin.
The lid opened slightly, and the lady inside reached out a hand to give them a thumbs-up.
“Seems she’s on board, but…should we really?”
“If Shiraaase agrees, I don’t see the issue. Porta, will you raise the coffin’s maneuverability and handling so we can all sled in safety? Maybe get your mom to help.”
“Yes! I want to work on this with Mommy!”
Dark-Mom Deathmother happily opened her shoulder bag, spying a chance to prove herself. She pulled out runners and a handle, and Porta quickly attached them to the coffin.
With the improvements made, the coffin sled was complete.
“The three Four Kings on the magic tome, and everyone else on the sled. Ready, Ma-kun?”
“So I’m steering, like the hero and party leader should? Maybe not a vehicle I can be proud to drive, but…”
Pushed by Wise’s wind magic, the coffin sled started sliding. From the level ground to a gentle slope. Not too fast, not too slow, very smooth.
After a while, the area around them opened up. Ahead of them loomed a giant tree, far bigger than those around them, like a mountain made of wood.
“That’s huge!” exclaimed Wise. “You could build a whole house from that one tree! What kind of tree is it?”
“I’ll appraise it! Hnggg…oh, that’s a fir tree!”
“A fir tree…,” repeated Medhi. “Wait, is this event going to be…?”
“Yep, seems like it. Here we are!”
Masato turned the handles, angling the runners inward and slowing them down. The coffin sled slid to a smooth stop in front of the giant fir.
Time to get the details. Medhi cast a resurrection spell. The coffin vanished, and Shiraaase sat up.
Somehow she still had runners attached to her back, and handles on her head, but everyone pretended not to notice. If they didn’t point it out, she’d never be the wiser.
“I agreed to serve as a sled, but I do not recall granting permission for these improvements! Saori Deathmother Hotta, we shall have words later.”
“Now she’s acting like it’s my middle name…that’s almost worse…”
It seemed she was the wiser after all. Moving on…
Shiraaase had them all gather before the giant fir.
“Nice work getting here in one piece. Allow me to infooorm you of your whereabouts. This is where the Saori Hotta Castle once stood.”
“That would have been a good place to use the Deathmother moniker…”
“And that castle was where we’d originally intended Mammone the Dark God to live. Implementation got delayed, a certain producer took over the data, redid the whole shebang as a Rebellion lair, and used it for nefarious purposes, so sadly the entire set of assets was eliminated. Poor assets!”
“My home…” Stare.
“Mommy…” Stare.
“I’m so, so, so, so, so sorry…!”
Mone and Porta’s forlorn stares quickly reduced Dark-Mom Deathmother’s HP to 0.
Shiraaase tapped the trunk of the giant fir, getting their attention back on her.
“And that brings us to the main infooormation! This event will be—”
“Yeah, we know. Christmas! …Ah! Crap, that just slipped out!”
They’d used the chestnuts (kuri), vinegar (su), and measuring box (masu) to get here. The giant fir before them was the same tree often used for Christmas trees. It was an easy guess, and Masato had blurted it out in spite of himself.
And robbed Shiraaase of her life’s purpose, her singular obsession, her chance to infooorm!
But Shiraaase was unperturbed. She was rather immovable to begin with, but this time her lack of emotion was downright terrifying.
“Stealing my source of joy, you naughty child. You’re a very naughty child, naughty indeed. We all agree he’s naughty?”
“S-sorry! I was naughty. Forgive me…”
“You admit you’re naughty, then? Heh-heh-heh.”
Shiraaase let out a sinister cackle and then turned to face the others once more.
“The event you’re about to join is, as the naughty child said, a Christmas event. I hardly need to explain the concept of Christmas, do I?”
“A party, presents—that sorta thing, yeah?” said Wise.
“You’re going to have specific groups spend time together as a family, making wonderful memories?” offered Medhi.
“Full marks for that answer! This event was proposed by a certain someone who asked to remain anonymous. We shall keep their identity a secret. Isn’t that right, Mamako?”
“Yes, let’s keep it secret. Hee-hee-hee.”
“That explains it…hoo boy.”
Unsurprisingly, Mamako was behind this. Masato glanced at her smile, shook his head, and elected not to pry further.
Then Mone raised a hand.
“Hold on! I just had a thought. It’s not December twenty-fifth!”
“Right you are. But don’t worry, this fir tree has a special function. If you decorate it in a manner appropriate for Christmas, the day you finish will be Christmas Eve, and the next day Christmas. It literally alters the world.”
“Whoa, that’s intense.”
“It also has one other extremely fascinating function…three Four Kings.”
“Wh-what?”
They’d been listening carefully, feigning a lack of interest, and snapped to attention when she turned toward them.
“I’ll ask you first, Amante. Have you been naughty?”
“Well…yes, I have. When I think of everything I’ve done, I’m certainly more naughty than nice.”
“How about you, Sorella? Are you a naughty child?”
“I dunno about chiiiild, but laughing at bad mothers is my goal in liiiiife, which is pretty naaaaaughty.”
“Fratello, are you a naughty child?”
“Mm. No denyin’ it. But I ain’t no ‘child’—I’m a grown man.”
“So you’re a naughty boy. Very well—everyone, look here.”
Shiraaase knocked against the fir’s trunk once more.
When she did, the giant fir began to glow. The snow-covered branches lit up from within.
The light pierced the bodies of everyone present.
Mamako was unaffected. Wise was unaffected. Medhi was unaffected.
Porta, Mone, Hahako, Shiraaase, and Dark-Mom Deathmother were unaffected.
But…
““““…Huh?””””
With the exception of Dark-Mom Deathmother and Shiraaase, the remaining six unaffected members all stared in surprise.
Masato, Amante, Sorella, and Fratello’s gear fell to the snow. They’d vanished…
And lying in the heap of their clothing were some very surprised-looking babies, clearly less than a year old.
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