Chapter 3 — Praying to the Rouge from That Day

1

“Keisuke! Do you want to do the Lantern Flower Festival?!”

My eyes flew open. Nito was right in front of my face, taking up all of my vision. Now, I’d just woken up, so I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. I could see that her eyes were alight, though; she was obviously excited. With that in mind, I didn’t really have a reason to refuse her.

“Why not?”

“I thought you’d say that! I’ll go let her know.”

She whirled around. Her silver hair moved with her and left a shimmering trail in her wake as she flew from the room, leaving the door wide open behind her.

I didn’t feel like I’d had enough rest, thanks to my jaunt the night before. Honestly, I was sorely tempted to go back to sleep, but I knew that if Nito was awake, I must have already overslept by a fair margin. I managed to heave myself upright, but sleepiness still clung to me, tugging at my back as if trying to pull me back down onto the mattress. I flopped my legs over the edge of the bed and slipped into my shoes before standing up. After a good stretch, and a yawn, I managed to feel mostly awake.

Flicking the curtain aside let the sunlight in, and it seared into my eyes. Squinting, I looked out through the window. Dozens of clouds dotted the sky, but there was still plenty of vivid blue up there. The lake was visible just at the edge of my vision, with no boat floating upon it. I thought back to the previous night, my memories of that conversation with Monty hovering on the border between dreams and reality. I knew that it’d actually happened, but the image of it was as tenuous as mist, always evading my grasp.

As I got closer and closer to wakefulness, Nito’s words finally started to stoke my curiosity, and so I called out toward the door.

“What’s the Lantern Flower Festival?”

The door answered with nothing but silence.

“Never mind, guess you don’t know either.”

“Do doors talk in your world?”

“Gah!”

Charolles was peeking in from the corridor. I’d thought for a second that the door really had answered me, but now I wondered if I might have actually preferred that to reality. This was super embarrassing.

“Morning,” I greeted, eventually.

“Good morning indeed,” she answered.

After another pause, I asked her, “Do you know what the Lantern Flower Festival is, by the way?”

“Weren’t you asking this outstanding fellow first?”

“Forget about that already!”

Charolles had a slight smile on her face as she finally explained.

“The old woman mentioned it this morning. Apparently, it’s a traditional festival.”

She never could resist things like that. She’d probably have been on par with any author in terms of her curiosity about things that seemed enjoyable, or interesting, or that were simply new to her.

“Will we be able to hold it with so few people?” I asked.

Including Fago herself, we only had four people that would be taking part. That wasn’t exactly enough to call a festival. Charolles seemed to share my impression of festivals as something attended by lots of people, and she simply shrugged.

“Why don’t you go ask her for the details?” she suggested, gesturing toward the main hall.

“Why are you talking like you’re not going to be involved?”

I walked past her into the corridor, and she followed.

“I’m not fond of all the bustle of festivals.”

“We’ll keep it low-key, then.”

“In that case, I wouldn’t mind joining in.”

“Not that I’m entirely sure what a ‘low-key’ festival looks like.”

“Should you really be admitting that?” she asked.

We kept up our utterly pointless conversation as we left the corridor and entered the main hall. Nito and Fago were standing in front of the saint’s statue.

“Good morning,” I greeted them.

“You’re really doing it?” Fago asked with no preamble, rubbing her pointed nose and looking rather confused at the prospect.

“The Lantern Flower Festival? Why? Is it hard?”

“The preparations aren’t all that extreme, but I’ve definitely never heard of a festival done with only four people.”

“Nor have I,” I admitted.

I glanced at Nito and saw her ears wiggling as she looked at me in abject excitement.

“Well, she certainly seems invested in it, so...” I said, trailing off.

“You’d be the same way if Fago told you about it!” Nito retorted.

“I’d be acting like you?”

I tried to imagine it: my eyes wide, sparkling with innocence and hope; my fists clenched eagerly in front of my chest; leaning forward on the balls of my feet, my entire body displaying my joy at the potential fun to be had.

“Honestly...that image kinda creeps me out,” I muttered.

“It has the same effect on me,” Charolles agreed from beside me, nodding.

“Hey!”

“I was just agreeing with what you said.”

“Someone else agreeing with that kind of thing is different than saying it yourself. It hurts.”

“Boys are so sensitive,” she lamented.

“Could you not look so depressed about that?”

“No,” Nito declared, smacking me on the chest. “We’re talking about the festival right now.”

“Sorry, Charolles distracted me.”

“Of course, how could it be anything else? It’s entirely my fault, yes.”

“That’s not fair...” I mumbled.

I gave her a sidelong glare for trying to play the bigger person here, but Nito had her cheeks puffed up and her fist raised, so I left it at that and quickly turned to Fago.

“So, what happens during the Lantern Flower Festival?”

Fago shook her head in light exasperation as she crouched and pulled her washcloth from the bucket. She began wringing it out as she spoke.

“As I was telling the girls earlier, there’s a flower that grows in this region called the lantern flower. The petals store mana, so if you set them alight, they glow and float around. It’s not something for children to play with, though.”

“They glow and float?”

I could more or less imagine them floating like balloons, but them glowing and being flowers on top of that made getting a clear image in my head rather difficult. I directed a glance at Charolles to check if these were a common thing and she answered with a slight shake of her head.

“This area used to produce a large number of mages. People even called it holy ground. Those bizarre flowers are probably related in some way,” Fago said, heaving herself upright and looking up at the statue before continuing. “Long ago, back when this was just a tiny village, there was apparently an epidemic ravaging the area. The country and the regional lord abandoned the village, and the villagers had no money to call for a physician. Many people died, and the village was on the verge of annihilation. It was then that the Crimson Saint came.”

At that, the rest of us also looked up at the statue. I’d heard about the Crimson Saint from time to time during my travels. Fago carried on with her story.

“She took each villager’s hand in turn and saved all their lives. They each brought out their entire savings to offer as thanks, but she would accept none of it. Just as they worried they’d have nothing to express their gratitude with, a child brought her one of those flowers. They lit it and everyone watched it sparkle and float. She was overjoyed at seeing that. The villagers then all gathered more of them, and when the Crimson Saint left, they used those flowers as lanterns to see her off. Ever since then, they would light the flowers once a year, and it became known as the Lantern Flower Festival. It was a way to continue offering her our thanks.”

What an incredible story, was all I could think. The biggest shock was that it was no fabrication, but the actual truth. There had been a saint, she had saved the village with some strange power, and then the people had continued showing their gratitude over the years. The accumulation of all those people’s earnest feelings had given this temple its holy air.

I didn’t really understand prayers and faith. They seemed awfully unscientific to me. They also weren’t things that I could actively refute, though, and even if I could’ve, I knew that I shouldn’t. The feeling in the air here didn’t come from some logical train of thought; it was something that you felt on your skin and in your heart.

“It’s an important festival, then,” I murmured.

“What are you getting so serious for?” Fago said with a laugh.

I looked up and saw Nito nodding repeatedly to herself, her eyes misty. She must have really taken the story on board emotionally.

“Didn’t you hear this already earlier?” I asked her.

“A good story is good no matter how many times you hear it.”

Well, that’s how it is, I thought, not disagreeing. I could now understand her excitement from when she’d come gushing to me about it earlier.

“Let’s do it, then,” I decided.

“You say that like there’s enough of us to actually do it,” Fago commented with a raised eyebrow.

“It doesn’t need to be a big production, does it? We’ll just do what we can to try to let the saint know that you’re still here in this village.”

Fago cleaned the temple every morning, just like she was doing today. She’d been doing it since before we got there, and I was sure she’d still be doing it after we were gone. I found that genuinely amazing. So, while I didn’t know quite how to word it, I wanted that to get through—for Fago’s feelings to reach the saint, that is. The Lantern Flower Festival seemed like the perfect event for such a thing.

“I’d really love to do it!” Nito cried out, leaning forward; her enthusiasm seemed almost like a physical force pressing down on Fago.

“Well, if the both of you are so gung ho about it, who am I to say no?”

“We’re doing it, then!” Nito exclaimed, a smile blooming on her face that she directed toward me as she clapped in excitement.

“We should get more people involved too,” Nito continued, looking between Charolles and me. “There’s Fago’s acquaintance as well as the people you both met in the theater, right?”

“Right, those two might come if we invite them,” I mused, getting the feeling that Paula’d agree on the spot, though I thought Jill might be a bit more reluctant. “I’m not sure about Monty, though. He doesn’t seem like he’d be fond of that kind of excitement.”

“He wouldn’t,” Fago agreed. “The years twist us all, but writers are twisted to begin with.”

“Do you dislike writers?” I asked with a slightly chagrined smile.

“He’s a writer?” Charolles asked, interjecting.

“That’s what he told me, at least.”

Thinking Fago would probably know more, I looked over at her.

“I think his books sold pretty well in the past, but I’ve never read any of them.”

Charolles didn’t reply, just cast her gaze down at her feet.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she replied eventually. “I’m fine.”

She definitely wasn’t, but I could tell she didn’t want me to pry any further. I just nodded in reply and turned to talk to Nito. “We were going over that way anyway. Why not invite them at the same time?”

Nito’s bright cheer was the only answer I got.

2

When I arrived at the theater with Nito in the passenger seat, I saw that another car had also stopped there. It was facing away from us, and I stopped the Kettle right behind it. Once we’d both gotten out, I took a look into the other car, but there was no one inside. Brushing my hand against the body revealed that it was still warm. They’d either just gotten here or were just about to leave.

Nito, though, didn’t spare the car a glance; she just stood gazing up at the theater.

“Is this the first time you’ve been to a place like this?” I asked, receiving only a nod in return.

Once I’d said it, I vaguely regretted asking for confirmation on something so obvious. I already knew her circumstances, so it was definitely a question born of less consideration than I’d have preferred to use.

“I’ve listened to recordings of concerts and operas. Theaters sometimes appeared in the books I read as well, and I could always connect the descriptions of the voices and music to the real ones I’d heard before. The actual buildings, though, and the kind of atmosphere they’d have, I was only able to imagine from the written descriptions.”

For a moment, I just watched her as she gazed up at the theater, letting her soak it in.

“So how’s the real thing compare?” I finally asked.

Nito looked up at me, her eyes curving into a smile.

“It’s won-der-ful!” she declared eventually.

I couldn’t help but laugh at her exaggerated, drawn-out answer.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Is this one a smaller theater?” she asked.

“Probably. I haven’t seen any others here, though, so I can’t say for sure.”

“Do they have them in your world as well?”

“Lots of them. Some could even seat thousands of people.”

She let out a sigh of both surprise and wonderment.

“Incredible. I can’t even imagine that,” she whispered, then said a little louder, “I’m happy just getting to see this one for now.”

She was fidgeting and shifting from foot to foot as she spoke, and I soon realized why.

“You can paint it later. We need to go invite Paula and Jill,” I told her, gesturing toward the entrance before walking in that direction.

“Right,” she agreed reluctantly, drooping as she followed me.

She couldn’t help but lament needing to keep her urge to paint under control. As she passed through the door, though, she forgot her woes and started spinning like a top. She was peering at each and every thing within the lobby. All of it was new to her, and her enjoyment was obvious in her body language. Then, all of a sudden, she stopped with her mouth agape in shock. I wanted to know what could have caused that look on her face, so I followed her gaze, and then my own mouth dropped open.

Paula was hunched over next to the door that led from the lobby to the seats. I already knew her so I could tell who she was, but from Nito’s perspective, she must have looked like some strange man stuffed into a dress and half bent over in order to peek through the door. Nito’s gaze slowly panned over to me and she spoke in a dull voice, her expression somewhat off.

“Let’s go back.”

“You don’t have to look like you’ve just seen something awful.”

Well, not that I couldn’t understand where she was coming from. Seeing Paula doing something so bizarre, added to the shadowy atmosphere in the dimly lit theater—anyone was bound to find it weird. At this rate, Nito really might have just headed back, so I decided to take the initiative. I walked over toward where Paula was standing, with Nito trailing after me.

“Paula!” I called once I’d reached her side, waving my hand near her face.

“Eeek!” Paula jumped, her blonde hair going flying. “Jeez, Kei! Don’t surprise me like that!”

She had her hand on her chest and was gasping for breath, but she wasn’t the only one feeling shocked. Her reaction had definitely startled me as well, and her scream had made Nito jump and hide behind me. Obviously, though, Paula had spotted her, and a bright cheer broke the brief silence.

“Would you introduce me to the fine lady behind you?” she asked.

“Please don’t eat me?” Nito whimpered.

“I prefer bearded men with a touch of class,” Paula assured her.

“No comment,” I answered, ignoring the wink she’d sent my way and pulling Nito slightly out from behind me. “This is my companion Nito. Nito, this is Paula.”

“My... My name’s Nito. Um, it’s nice to meet you. Also, I’m sorry for hiding. You surprised me a little.”

Paula’s eyes widened at Nito’s now-much-clearer speech, and then her expression morphed into a smile as she bent down to meet Nito’s gaze.

“It doesn’t bother me at all. I’m used to surprising people. After all, I’ve got pretty broad shoulders, don’t I?”

I laughed at that joke, and Nito’s eyes began to sparkle at the casual wink Paula tossed her way.

“We can leave the hellos there for a minute,” Paula said. “Come this way. You’ve got great timing.”

She tapped her finger on the door leading farther inside. I assumed that she wanted us to peek through it like she’d been doing. I exchanged a curious glance with Nito and she winked awkwardly back. She must have been trying to imitate Paula’s from earlier. That was so adorable of her that I just had to pat her shoulder, but in return, she buried her fist in my chest. No mercy from this one, eh?

I leaned in closer to the door like Paula had indicated, rubbing at my chest. Nito crouched at my feet, also pressing her face up to the door.

“I’m opening it,” Paula said, pulling gently at the handle.

The very instant the door cracked open, I felt an almost physical strike to my temple and a shiver ran down my spine. Issuing forth from behind the door was...song. Now, I’d heard plenty of songs. There were hundreds on my phone. I’d never had a song so deeply engulf me, though. The words echoed through my head, and the sweetness of the voice caressed my ears. It was all so...beautiful.

I suddenly noticed that I’d stopped breathing. The fading edges of my vision and the slight wooziness pulled me back to reality, and I realized that, for a moment, I had been utterly entranced by the song. The feeling of lying in a boat on a lake in the warm spring sun came to mind. The tension left my shoulders, and my heart was at peace. Gradually, my breath returned to me and air slowly filled my lungs. It was all so calming.

If I could, I thought, I’d spend my whole life listening to this.

My eyes had been opened, like I’d spent a long period asleep and had just woken. It was a bizarre combination of oblivion and peace. I felt as if the stagnant feelings in my heart had been washed away and replaced with pure water.

“Amazing, right?”

I couldn’t muster a reply to Paula, just a nod. All I knew was that I’d experienced something incredible.

At that same moment, Nito shot up. The motion was forceful enough that it knocked me back. She used both hands to push open the door and then darted inside. Paula and I looked at each other as we heard her footsteps fade into the distance.

Soon after, an almost pitiable scream made its way to us from inside.

3

The one singing that wonderful song had, of course, been Jill. Standing in front of her now and seeing her shrinking in on herself in the shadow of a chair made me almost disbelieve it, despite knowing how rude it was to think that. Her voice had been so bold that it had totally bowled us over, after all.

“Jill, the two of them wanted to compliment your singing,” Paula told her softly.

She was sitting in the chair beside Jill. The younger woman just buried her face in Paula’s lap with a mumbling cry and shook her head over and over.

“I did something awful,” Nito muttered sadly from next to me, slumping.

She’d been so enthused that she’d wanted to share her feelings with the singer, but she couldn’t have imagined just how introverted Jill was. When Nito burst in, she had screamed at the idea of someone she didn’t know hearing her song and then immediately slumped across the chair.

“Um, I’m sorry we eavesdropped.” I tried to apologize, but only got a groaning mumble in return.

“This girl... She has such a good voice but just can’t sing in front of people. She reacted the same way the first time I heard her as well.”

Paula looked conflicted as she spoke. It seemed like eavesdropping was the only way to hear Jill’s songs, and that keeping Jill from realizing she had an audience had been for both of their sakes. Then Nito had jumped into the middle of things and thrown it all off. I knew Nito was more than perceptive enough to have realized that herself, and that just telling her not to worry about it likely wouldn’t do any good. She knew exactly what the situation was, and she was curling in on herself more with every passing second.

I needed to do something.

Right now, Jill was reeling from a completely unforeseen shock and couldn’t process her feelings, if my guess was correct. Giving her a different shock that was slightly easier to parse might get her back to herself again, and then we could apologize. I moved to stand next to Paula and spoke as softly as I could.

“Jill, we’re holding the Lantern Flower Festival in the village. Would you sing there for us?”

The constant shaking of her head finally stopped and she lifted her face to look at me. Her dumbfounded expression and the lack of a reply gave me the impression that she hadn’t really understood what I’d said, so I slowly repeated myself.

“Would you sing at the Lantern Flower Festival?”

“Wha... You’re holding the Lantern Flower Festival?”

“We are.”

“That Lantern Flower Festival?”

“That’s the one.”

She nodded in understanding as my words finally got through to her.

“Ho...”

“Ho?”

“How could I ever do that?!”

Her breath was coming in great gasps as she shook her head so hard that I worried it might fall off. I’d at least somewhat expected it, but the sheer force of her refusal made the lack of room for any negotiation perfectly clear. The idea had come to me when I’d heard her singing, and I thought it was a good one if I did say so myself, but I couldn’t force her to sing if she didn’t want to.

“Then would you consider just participating in general?”

“I...I wouldn’t have to sing?”

She seemed much more willing in that case and looked up at Paula, evidently asking her for a final decision. I relaxed at that point, expecting a positive response, but to my surprise, Paula shook her head.

“It’s a wonderful invitation, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. You should go on your own, Jill.”

Smiles didn’t necessarily mean a good answer. Sometimes they could be a more eloquent refusal than anything else, and the smile currently on Paula’s face was one of those. Her answer wouldn’t have changed no matter how she’d been invited. Jill, still looking at Paula, didn’t fail to catch on to those feelings. She slowly shook her head.

“Then, um, I won’t go either. I’m sorry for saying no after you went out of your way to invite us.”

Even as I voiced a generically polite concession, my mind was on Paula’s reaction. It seemed like she’d answered without even thinking first, and Jill was clearly not happy about declining. Paula must have had some strong reasoning to refuse like that, but asking after it felt a bit too much like prying.

“Jill, you don’t have to worry about me,” Paula told her.

“No, I wouldn’t manage on my own.”

Paula was silent for a moment, then simply gave a resigned, “All right.”

“Sorry, Kei, I hope you don’t mind?” she apologized brightly, turning to me and bringing her hands together in front of her face in a pleading gesture.

“Not at all. I’m sorry for inviting you out of nowhere.”

“Invitations from others are the mark of a fine woman, so it was nice to get one, regardless. I promise I’ll repay it, so let us off this one time, okay?”

This time, her smile wasn’t the uncompromising one from earlier, but a gentler, more fleeting one. It was her (slightly awkward) attempt to negate the uncomfortable atmosphere she’d created.

“I’m looking forward to it. The same goes for men, after all.”

“You really get it, Kei.”

We exchanged looks, making sure neither of us was torn up about this outcome. Through my invitation and her refusal, we’d each touched on a slight sore spot, but there was no malice from either side, so neither of us was unhappy. We’d just gone for a fresh start.

“Oh, Jill, I’ll introduce you,” I said, changing the topic. It was a bit of a blatant move, but no one in the room would’ve called me out on it. “This is Nito. We’re the best of friends.”

I gently tugged the girl in question to my side. Her back was stiff, almost certainly due to nervousness.

“That’s me,” she said. “I’m sorry for barging in earlier, and for eavesdropping.”

Jill panicked at the clear self-recrimination in Nito’s voice and waved her hands around in front of herself to refute it.

“No, I should be the one apologizing! I’m sorry you had to hear something so grating. I wou—”

“It wasn’t grating!” Nito’s voice echoed around the room after her outburst.

Paula and I were both wide-eyed. Jill froze as well, looking blankly at Nito. She’d covered her mouth, apparently just as surprised as we were at how loudly she’d spoken. Her cheeks reddened at being the center of attention, but she clenched her fists and fixed her gaze on Jill.

“It was absolutely, absolutely wonderful. I loved your singing. It wasn’t grating in the slightest.”

She gradually trailed off as she spoke, but she still got the whole thing out before averting her gaze in embarrassment. I was overwhelmed at how much she’d grown. She was unaccustomed to people and very reserved, and yet she’d gotten her thoughts across so firmly! Paula smiled softly at her, before gently poking Jill in the shoulder.

“What do you say?”

“Th-Thank you. I’m happy to hear that.”

Jill had carefully considered Nito’s feelings and responded sincerely. While the thanks were exceptionally awkwardly given, they were still effective. Nito cautiously raised her gaze and exchanged a small smile with Jill. It was a conversation rooted in mutual awkwardness.

“Looks like you’ve got a new friend, Jill,” Paula said.

Jill had immediately moved to wave her hand, so I cut her off by speaking to Nito.

“Aren’t you happy about that, Nito?”

“I am,” she answered brightly.

Jill floundered, searching for somewhere to put her hands, before finally clasping them together in front of her chest.

“I-I’m not sure becoming friends with me is a good thing,” she managed haltingly.

“That’s not true,” Nito said, offering her own hands to Jill. “I want to know more about you, and I want you to know more about me. So I want to be friends.”

I had to look up at the ceiling and slap my forehead to keep a hold of myself after hearing that. Honestly, I wanted to leave the room and shout my feelings out. While I was trying to recover, I felt something pat my shoulder. Glancing over, I saw that Paula had come up beside me. She was holding her other hand over her mouth. Even in the darkness of the theater, I could see the film of tears welling up in her eyes as she moved her face closer to mine.

“She’s so pure. Oh, my heart...” she whispered, her voice dipping to the low register of a man’s for the first time I’d ever heard.

I said nothing and just nodded deeply. We were only on the fringes of it and we were in that state. Poor Jill was making a low groan in the back of her throat. Her eyebrows had furrowed and the corners of her mouth had turned down as she screwed her eyes shut. I could see her clenching her teeth. It was the face of someone doing their best not to cry.

“I-I wand do be friends with you doo...”

She might actually have been crying, after all, but Paula and I both had some dust in our eyes so we couldn’t tell. By the time we’d cleaned our eyes, Nito and Jill were hand in hand—a girl and a young woman with just a handful of years between them, now friends.

“I-I’m sorry for that display...” Jill said, lowering her head.

I refuted her comment entirely, but Jill wouldn’t accept that. It was a little late now, but it occurred to me that maybe it’d have been better for me to be outside. Having a guy around must have been pretty unpleasant at times like this. At least, for everyone but Paula.

“Come on, Jill, you’re all friends now. You can’t keep looking at the floor forever.”

Jill let out a slight gasp, probably because she didn’t remember having made friends with me. I couldn’t make an appeal as sincere as Nito’s, though, so I had to take advantage of Paula’s phrasing.

“It’s great to have more friends, but we’ve got to go for now.”

“Oh, you won’t stay to watch me dance?”

“There’s someone else I want to invite to the festival. He’s called Monty. Do you know him? Up by the lake.”

“Yeah, the thunder rat,” Paula replied, face twisting.

“You have history?”

“He yelled at us constantly as kids. Well, it was our fault for messing with him in the first place, but I’m still not comfortable around him.”

The word “yell” was far from what I’d expected.

“But he’s seemed so calm most of the time...”

“He used to be different. When his daughter got ill and died, he lost all his energy.”

That wasn’t information I’d gone looking for, and I felt almost guilty for knowing it. Finding out something like that without the person in question being around wasn’t great. Paula let out a gasp as well and put a finger over her lips.

“Getting too chatty is all part of getting old. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

I nodded silently.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I think you’ve got your work cut out for you. He’s not one for big gatherings like that.”

“I had a feeling he wasn’t,” I said with a wry smile.

Still, asking didn’t cost anything. I told Paula and Jill we’d come again sometime, and then we left the theater.

4

The sky was still a vivid blue, the early morning sun shining brightly through it. White clouds stood out against the blue, each dotted with tinges of gray that drifted across their surfaces like oil over water. I directed the Kettle out from among the villas and up the gentle slope, bringing an old-looking deep-blue roof into sight.

“There’s the house,” I commented.

As we got closer to Monty’s house, a trike came toward us, heading in the other direction. Its rider was, of course, Charolles. She looked so cool riding stretched out over it that both of us in the car let out murmurs of wonder.

I’d offered to let her come along with us, but Charolles had refused. Realizing she must have come to see Monty on her own, I had a sudden thought and pulled over to the side. She slowed her own vehicle and then came to a stop at our side. I wound the window down and spoke.

“We’re heading up there now. I guess you’re going back?”

“I am. I’m done here already,” she answered.

Her goggles were hiding half of her face, so I couldn’t see her expression very well. From what I could see, she looked the same as normal, but something felt different.

“Did something happen?” I asked.

“You’re worried about me? That’s kind of you.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

Charolles took her hands off the handlebars and looked straight at me. The glass in one of her goggles reflected my face, while I could see through the other to her eye. I couldn’t read the emotions that were in that eye, though.

“I’m fine, thanks. I’ll head on back ahead of you.”

She didn’t wait for a reply, just grabbed hold of the handlebars again and took off. Moments later, she disappeared into the shadows of the forest along with the gentle burbling of her exhaust.

“I wonder what’s wrong with her?” Nito mused.

“So she did seem weird.”

If Nito thought so too, then it wasn’t just me misreading things. The business Charolles was “done” with probably had something to do with it, and it was probably related to Monty in some way. Unease fluttered in my chest like flames licking at the bottom of a simmering pot as I drove the Kettle onward.

I stopped in front of Monty’s house and got out, with Nito close behind. We stood together in front of the door as I knocked. No reply was forthcoming. Even after I gave a slightly louder knock, there was a pause before the door opened.

“So it’s you this time. It’s just one guest after another. I wonder how many years it’s been since I had this many.”

Nito let out a small gasp as she looked up at him. His gaze fell and met Nito’s, and... I think he might have laughed?

“Oh, your guardian’s with you.”

“How old do you think I am?” I asked.

I hadn’t expected a joke from him.

“Come on in. I was just brewing some tea. I’ll listen to what you have to say over a cup.”

We followed his beckoning and, once inside, Nito slowly took in the living room. She seemed to be focused on the quality of the furniture. That was where my attention went too, even with this being my second time inside the room. The sunlight coming in from the window lit the room brightly, and it felt completely different than it had in the warm orange light from the night before. While we were busy staring, Monty came into the room carrying a tray with a teapot and cups on it.

“What are you two standing around for? I suppose I’ll have to tell you, the seats are over there,” he said, gesturing with his pointed nose.

“Sorry for the sudden visit,” I apologized.

“I don’t mind. I welcome anything but bad news.”

Monty brewed the tea with familiar motions and then put a cup in front of me. There was no bottle of spirits like there had been yesterday, just a small bowl of sugar cubes and a small container of orange jam.

“Thank you,” I said.

I’d enjoyed his hospitality the night before as well, so I was less reserved than Nito. I dropped a sugar cube into my cup, then stirred in a spoonful of the jam as well. After that, Nito also added a sugar cube to hers, and we spent some time enjoying our tea.

“So, did you two simply have too much time on your hands and come to chat with an old man?”

Even as I smiled ruefully at the indirect request to get to the point of our visit, I put my cup down.

“I have two things I wanted to ask of you.”

“That’s better than one. Now, even if I refuse one, it invites less blame.”

“We’ve actually decided to hold the Lantern Flower Festival and wanted to know if you’d join in.”

“What was the other thing?” he asked.

“Charolles—the girl that was just here—seemed slightly off, so I was hoping you could give some insight into why, if you didn’t mind.”

Monty hummed as he sipped his tea.

“I don’t do well with lively events. So, while it has been very long since the last one, I will not be participating in the festival. I do thank you for taking the time and effort to invite me, however. As for the girl, that is not something for me to discuss at my own discretion. It concerns her personal circumstances, so ask her instead.”

It was a blunt answer, but he’d stated both his reply and his reasons clearly, so it ended up feeling more uplifting than vexing. I could only nod in agreement with what he’d said about Charolles, and I could at least relax knowing that there wasn’t a specific problem between the two of them.

“So, purely out of curiosity,” he continued, “why are you holding it now?”

“There’s no deep meaning behind it,” I said, smiling self-consciously again. “If I had to name a reason, I’d say it’s because of Nito’s curiosity.”

I gestured toward her and she straightened in her seat, nodding nervously. She was acting like a student called to the principal’s office.

“Well then, it has to be done,” Monty said decisively. “My apologies for not taking part, little miss.”

“I-It’s fine... Actually, can I ask you something?” she said, pausing until he nodded. “You know Fago, right?”

“She’s probably the person I’ve known the longest, in fact. How is she?”

“Um, she’s well. She cleans the temple every morning and prays.”

“I see,” he answered shortly.

Despite the brevity of the response, there was quite a bit of meaning packed into it, and it left an odd echo in my mind. Seeming to notice my curious look, Monty leaned back into his seat. He crossed his hands over his stomach and turned his face toward the window.

“Have either of you ever prayed?” he asked.

Nito and I gave each other a look, and she was the one that answered.

“What kind of prayers?”

“There are many kinds. Prayers are given as thanks before a meal or after a good harvest, as pleas for something the person wants, as respect to the dead... There are countless types of prayers, but those that pray the longest and hardest are always those repenting.”

“Because they did something wrong?”

Monty’s beady eyes found Nito’s.

“That’s right, little miss. People that pray aren’t the only ones that do bad, though. Everyone sins in one way or another. The difference is in realizing your own sin and facing it. You see, prayers are nothing more than introspection. You sit before an invisible presence, speak with an inaudible voice, and thereby spend your days looking inward. That brings more pain than any judgment from another could.”

“So Fago prays in repentance?” I asked.

Monty simply shook his head.

“These are nothing more than my own musings, not a certainty. However, think hypothetically. If her mornings are dedicated to repentance, and yet there is no one to hear that prayer...would such a life not be pointless?”

His gaze as he turned to me felt expectant, like he wanted some kind of response. I wasn’t sure how to answer, though. I’d never prayed, for repentance or otherwise. I also didn’t know much about Fago.

“I don’t think praying is a waste, though,” Nito answered.

“Even if no one is there to hear the prayers?”

“You never know when a prayer or wish might be granted.”

“That’s a rather optimistic viewpoint.”

“Mine was granted. So prayers...even if they seem like impossible wishes, are a good thing, I think.”

It was an emotional argument rather than a logical one, and yet Monty didn’t refute it. That was probably because it contained so much of her personal feelings. It was an opinion born of her own experiences, so it didn’t need to be logical. Monty just snorted in amusement, nodding slightly.

“Go tell that to her,” he said, his tone shockingly soft; it felt almost too affectionate for mere acquaintances.

“What kind of relationship do the two of you have?” I asked.

“We have simply known each other for a long time,” he said, neatly deflecting the question.

There was a mysterious sense of tension between the other two as we finished our tea. After we left the house, Nito and I gave each other a troubled glance and a vague smile as we stood together in front of the Kettle.

“Everyone turned us down,” I commented eventually.

“They did...”

I’d thought that even if Monty wouldn’t turn up, Paula and Jill would.

“Guess it’s just the four of us.”

“That makes me a bit sad...”

I agreed. I’d thought the Lantern Flower Festival would be a great opportunity to add a little color to a mostly boring existence. She was right, though—a festival with only four people felt almost pitifully small.

“Fago, Paula, Jill, and Monty... They all live so close together, but they don’t seem to have anything to do with each other,” Nito commented, her shoulders slumping.

I wasn’t sure how to console her. They lived in such close proximity and yet held each other at arm’s length. It must have felt wrong to Nito, and I was reluctant to just wave it off as being how adults were sometimes.

Just then, something occurred to me and I hurried back to the door. I knocked again and Monty soon appeared to open it.

“Did you want another cup of tea?” he asked.

“Ah, no, but thank you for the offer. I realized I forgot to ask something,” I told him, before voicing my question. “Do you remember a Paula? Apparently, you used to yell at her for messing with you in some way.”

His reaction was beyond anything I’d expected.

[Keisuke’s Notes] The Lantern Flower Festival

The Crimson Saint apparently came to this village long ago, and the festival began as a way of thanking her. It’s got a deeper meaning than just enjoying a night of fun, it seems. Maybe the lantern flowers each carry prayers with them.