Chapter 5 — Alone Together in the Midnight Blue

1

“I’ve been thinking,” Nito said as we finished dinner.

There was no need to ask what about—it had to be the Lantern Flower Festival. She took out her sketchbook, opened it to a specific page, and then passed it to me. Charolles leaned in, shifting just a little closer to my side, and joined me in looking at the page.

“Wonderful...” she murmured, prompting me to give a nod of agreement.

Nito’s art skills were scarily good. If I’d been a little more refined, maybe I’d have been able to say what precisely made the art I was looking at wonderful, but, as it was, all that came to mind were tired cliches like it being immersive or pretty, or that the colors seemed to swallow me in. In some ways, those worn-out platitudes filling my head might have shown just how close to my heart it had struck.

I kept staring at the little painting on the sketchbook page, beautiful in the lantern light. It showed the village as seen from the bottom of the hill. The houses all stood shoulder to shoulder as they climbed the page, and the very tip of the temple was poking up over the few trees that surrounded it. The clouds were softened by the evening light, and the whole image inspired a sense of nostalgic homesickness.

“U-Um... It’s embarrassing seeing you look at it so closely,” Nito fretted, fingers twisting together. “Turn the page, please.”

The next paintings depicted the temple, the theater on Mercian Street, and Fago’s house.

“Um, I thought we could write on the backs of these and make them into invitations.”

For the festival?

“That’s...an interesting idea,” I said.

“But, uh,” she carried on, looking unsure and twirling her hair around a finger, “it’s just an idea...not anything concrete. I was wondering what I could do to help. I don’t know how these things work, and I can’t infer people’s feelings like you can...so all I could think of was painting.”

She lifted her head to peek at my reaction.

“So...these will be, um, a real invitation! With all my feelings behind it!” she exclaimed, clenching her fist.

I could only stare back at her, dumbfounded. Her best idea for swaying people that had already refused once, due to either personal circumstances or a lack of interest...was an invitation with all her feelings behind it?

“That’s... Nito, you...”

Charolles took over from me as I struggled to string a sentence together.

“You have a very straightforward way of thinking.”

“Yeah, straightforward,” I echoed. “Seriously, right down the middle.”

Nito paused, her ears drooping.

“So it won’t work?” she asked.

At the same moment, I felt an elbow dig into my side. I jolted, a sound the likes of which I’d never heard before escaping my mouth. While trying to overcome the pain she’d inflicted, I glared at Charolles, but she didn’t even look in my direction. Sure, I might have been in the wrong there, but still, she was merciless; plus, she didn’t have to look so nonchalant about it.

“That’s not it. It’s just such a straightforward idea that I hadn’t thought of it. I was surprised, is all,” I answered, rubbing my side. “Normally I’d give up on simply asking if someone refused the first time, and I’d try to think of some other way to persuade them. I just tell myself that it’s a problem that needs to be solved and then get all guarded.”

Now, I couldn’t puff out my chest and call that an adult way of thinking. It wasn’t even that someone had told me that there was a “right” answer and that I had to do things that way. I always got caught up in my thoughts, was all—telling myself I had to do things right, go about things logically, when really what I needed to do was just go for it.

“So...I think your idea might be just what we need.”

I suspected that this occasional clash in philosophies might have been just what the two of us needed. Still, Nito’s expression was uneasy.

“But Paula seemed like she really didn’t want to come...”

“I’m sure it’ll work out. If you bring her such a wonderful invitation, she’ll have no choice but to accept. You can take advantage of her kindness.”

“Just so you know,” Charolles interjected, “what you’re saying is awful.”

“Well, could you refuse an invitation like that from Nito?” I asked.

“I’d like to see someone who could,” she admitted.

Nito’s power of persuasion had to be off the charts if even Charolles had that much confidence about it. I realized that having Nito make a straightforward request might actually be the best idea.

“Right, let’s do it!” I exclaimed.

After an uncertain pause, Nito asked, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. It’ll definitely work,” I told her, and her expression finally relaxed.

The three of us put our heads together over Nito’s sketchbook, almost like generals leaning over a map at a war meeting.

“By the way, I don’t know how you make these sorts of invitations,” I admitted.

“You put the recipient and a short greeting, then give the time and place of the event, and that’s all. We need to decide what to put for those first,” Nito told me.

“We can leave the first two for now. Let’s start with when and where to have the festival,” Charolles commented.

“We can hold it here, can’t we? After all, it’s for the saint,” I suggested. “I asked Fago and she said all we need is food, firewood, and lantern flowers. There should be enough firewood in the temple’s store.”

“There aren’t many of us, so it will be difficult to get everything ready quickly,” Nito said slowly, mulling things over.

Charolles gave a bright laugh.

“Did you forget about my bag? I have plenty of fresh food, and I can carry as much firewood and as many lantern flowers as you’d like.”

After letting the moment sink in for a bit, I spoke up.

“That’s our Charoemon, reliable as ever.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“Not at all!”

Our discussion about the festival carried on like that for a while. We talked about using the food stored on Mercian Street that Paula had mentioned, about how the lantern flowers grew by the lake so we’d have to go pick them, about how to make the campfire, and more besides. We had a fairly good time planning things; after all, we were excited. Up till now, all we’d had in our lives was a sense of inevitable loss, of everything ending. It was like scooping up sand and watching it trickle out between your fingers, disappearing little by little. Planning an event like this, laughing together as we discussed our ideas with others, added more sand to our cupped palms.

We talked and talked, deciding on many things, until the final decision left was when to do it. No one had real plans in this world anymore, since anything you might prioritize had already gone.

“I think we should go with tomorrow,” Nito said firmly.

“Why tomorrow?” I asked curiously, and she smiled shyly at me as she replied.

“Well, if we put it off, the loneliness will start to feel stronger than the eagerness. That’s why I think we should do it tomorrow, so we can have the festival while we’re still eager for it.”

I voiced my agreement. Eagerness and loneliness were like two sides of a coin, but in this world, loneliness was just that little bit stronger. If Nito wanted to do the festival tomorrow, we had no reason to object.

“Tomorrow, then,” I concluded.

“This might sound a bit odd coming from me, considering I suggested it in the first place, but...you don’t think that’s a bit too soon...?”

“That’s okay. Everyone could do with some enjoyment,” Charolles commented, earning a smiling nod from Nito.

“All right, tomorrow it is!”

2

Nito had fallen right asleep once we finished, and I carried her to bed on my back. Charolles helped me lay her down, then took her shoes off, and I covered her with the quilt. We made sure she was still sleeping soundly and then left.

“She’s out cold.”

“Well, she put so much effort into those invitations, it would tire her out, right?”

I’d been surprised to learn that she’d walked all the way out to the theater to paint the pictures. Considering that, it was hardly a surprise that she’d gotten back late. As we’d finished adding the addressees and start time to the invitations, she’d been nodding off a bit, and just as I’d noticed that, she’d finally fallen asleep, her head dropping down onto the table.

Charolles and I went back to the library and looked at Nito’s invitations, spread out on the table. There were only a few, but they were all done just right.

“She’s a good kid,” Charolles said after a moment.

“She really is. Shockingly so.”

I didn’t know anyone else that could sympathize so well with other people, worry about them so earnestly, and rejoice or mourn with them the way she could.

“Make sure you keep her safe.”

“Of course I will.”

“Otherwise, I’ll take her with me,” she returned with a chuckle.

“I could do without the bold declarations of kidnapping,” I said with a chuckle of my own. I didn’t even see my next words coming; they just fell out of my mouth. “Why don’t you come with us?”

Charolles looked blankly at me.

“I mean, Nito’d be over the moon,” I rushed to add, “and you don’t exactly have any particular destination.”

Even to me, the reasons I gave sounded like excuses.

“Well, traveling with you might be fun in its own way,” she replied, but there was no way I could miss the implicit meaning in her words; this wasn’t an agreement, it was an indirect refusal. “I’ve always been jealous of relationships like yours.”

She smiled gently, propping her chin on a hand and letting her gaze fall back to the table. Running a finger along the edge of one of the paintings, she continued.

“I’m a touch tired, though, so I’ll go it alone.”

We were both quiet for a moment, her words hanging between us.

“Is it because you couldn’t find the end of your story?” I asked eventually.

“Well, that’s part of it, but not the entirety,” Charolles began, then seemed to remember herself and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Forget about it. Sorry.”

I wanted to know what she’d been about to say. I wanted to know the things she worried about. Excessive meddling though it might have been, I wanted even the barest contact with the feelings she held inside her. She’d marshaled her self-control and stopped herself, though. She didn’t continue any further, just went back to her usual placid expression.

“We should get some sleep as well. We’ll have to be up early preparing for the festival.”

As I was searching for some way to hold her back, one particular scene came to mind.

“Want to go space out before we turn in?” I asked.

Charolles had stood, but now she cocked her head at me.

“Do you always come out of nowhere with these things?”

“Is that praise?”

“You’d be better off using different phrasing if you’re going to proposition someone.”

“You say that, but aren’t you interested?”

“I am. I’ve got a bit of a weakness for silly things like that.”

“Let’s go, then.”

I stood and led the way out of the room. We passed through the corridor, then out of the temple hall, finally stepping outside where there was no illumination but the moon.

“Right, get your trike out of that 4D Bag of yours.”

“Where are we going, anyway?”

“The best place to space out is atop a lake, haven’t you heard?”

“No...I haven’t,” she said, letting out an exasperated sigh.

She took out her trike and immediately mounted it. Time was stopped inside her magic bag, so just as I’d predicted, the trike was already warmed up and ready to go. While “trike” might sound like “bike,” the tires and chassis were closer in size to a car’s. Bare pipes entwined the body of it, and I wasn’t quite sure how to get on. Moving carefully, I managed to get myself into the seat, but that brought me very close to Charolles all of a sudden, which left me instantly nervous.

“Um, what do I do here?” I asked.

Obviously, not having anywhere to grab as a handhold would have made me nervous, but it was worse than that. The only thing in sight that I could grab hold of was the girl sitting in front of me.

“There’s a handle behind the seat,” she told me. “Grab hold of that.”

I fumbled around for it.

“Ah, this?”

“I don’t mind if you’d rather hold on to my waist, though.”

“Yeah, no, I’m good with the handle.”

My reply might have ended up sounding kind of blunt, but I couldn’t really do anything about that. I was a healthy teenager, after all; holding on to her waist was too risky. So, yeah, I couldn’t do anything about her chuckling at me either. Damn it.

“Off we go, then.”

She started off slow, but even then, the instability of my seat made me nervous. It felt like I might fall off at any moment and hurt myself. I couldn’t relax as much as I could in a car. As we left the courtyard and got onto the road, I swallowed a yelp. I’d never paid it any mind when driving in the Kettle, but now every bump in the road’s surface made me bounce in the seat. Each time I felt that alarming weightlessness, I gripped tighter around the handle.

“You okay?” Charolles asked, louder than usual.

She’d raised her voice to make sure I heard her over the deafening noise of the trike. The pistons in the engine underneath us, coupled with the tires biting into the road below us and the wind whipping past our ears, swallowed up every other sound but still didn’t manage to drown her out.

“This is nothing!” I yelled back.

It was a bluff, of course. I’ve yet to meet any guy that doesn’t bluff that way—doesn’t say he’s fine even if he’s in pain, or that he’s not afraid even if he is. My “it’s nothing” was much the same.

“I don’t need to hold back, then.”

“Eek!”

The trike sped up, making me feel like I was being pulled backward. The high-pitched noise I made was just some escaping air that’d been caught in my throat. It wasn’t a scream at all. Definitely not.

Luckily, the acceleration only lasted for a moment, and then she immediately returned to a smoother speed. I let out the breath I’d been holding and sucked in a fresh lungful of air. I could feel my heart racing as well, as Charolles’s irrepressible laughter made its way to my ears.

“I see now that you’re a bully,” I told her.

“Oh, wasn’t this ‘nothing’?”

“Of course it is.”

“Want to give it another go, then?”

“No, thank you. This is fine, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Her laughter fluttered back to me on the wind again. I pouted slightly, wishing I could come up with a retort or make some kind of counterattack, but it would hardly have mattered even if I had. The conclusion was obvious: there was nothing I could do while she still had the handlebars. I could only wait it out, my heart frozen with fear at the death-defying journey we were on...

Despite that little joke I told myself about it being scary, though, her driving through the trees and shrubbery with no actual lighting to speak of turned out to be completely safe. It was quicker than the car as well, and we soon arrived in front of Monty’s house. His lights were on, as it happened. Considering he’d mentioned nights being boring, I figured he’d definitely be up even at this hour. His boat was at the jetty below, so he’d be inside as well.

I knocked on the door and Monty opened it, a glass of something in his hand. He looked at me, then at Charolles standing slightly behind me.

“Eloping, are you?”

“Are you drunk?” I returned.

“A little. What brings you two here at this time of night?”

He turned to invite us in, but I shook my head.

“I was actually hoping to borrow your boat.”

Monty just replied, “Do what you like,” before heading back inside. The process had gone more quickly than I’d expected, so I was honestly a bit taken aback. Either way, though, we now had permission, so we headed down to the lake.

The moonlight shone down on the wide-open lake and reflected off its surface, making at least the area directly around it bright enough to see. The boat was smaller than I’d expected when I saw it from the pier, and I estimated that the two of us would be about the limit of its capacity. We stood there for a moment, just looking at it.

“It’s the first time I’ve ever been on a boat,” Charolles said eventually.

“That’s all right. First time for me too.”

“Thank you for your not-at-all-assuring reassurance.”

I pulled in the boat by its rope and then held it still. Unusually unsure of herself, Charolles boarded with extreme care. The boat shifted as she transferred her weight to it, but she kept her balance without panicking or flailing. She had insane reflexes, it seemed. Once she was settled, I untied the rope and got ready for my turn. Charolles gripped the jetty with her hand to steady the boat as I carefully made my own way on. The boat was shifting and bobbing, and I immediately sat myself down.

“Let’s go, then,” I said.

“I can’t calm down being on the water like this,” she complained, and yet her expression was still set in its usual placidity.

An oar rested on each side of the boat, and I knew I could use them to get us moving. I splashed just the one through the water, getting us away from the jetty. Charolles and I were facing each other, and we were moving backward from my perspective, so I could see the shore gradually growing farther away behind her.

Rowing was harder than I’d thought it would be. The oars themselves were heavy, and they grew even more so as I dragged them through the water. Even putting my full weight behind each stroke, I couldn’t get us going as fast as I’d expected to.

“Incredible...”

Still, considering how much Charolles seemed to enjoy looking out at the lake as we went, I couldn’t complain. It was times like these when a man should be stubborn, after all. I got better at rowing the more I repeated the motions of it, and eventually the boat arrived at pretty much the center of the lake.

Its surface sparkled in the moonlight as we floated atop it. Boats were strange vessels. We were floating on the water, and yet it felt nothing like swimming. The sensation was completely different. I looked over to see Charolles sitting with her knees pressed together, her feet tucked off to one side as she leaned outward. She put her left hand on the edge of the boat for balance and looked out at the distant shore, the corner of her mouth lifting into a slight smile.

“How do you like your first boat trip?” I asked.

“Well...it’s not bad. I almost want one myself.”

“That somehow doesn’t sound like a joke, coming from you.”

After all, she had her magic bag. She could easily have carried one around with her.

We didn’t speak any more than that, just sat quietly spacing out. The night darkened the landscape, so the only shapes I could really make out in the moonlight were the mountains and the trees. The slight lapping of the water against the hull of the boat was the only sound. It felt like we were perched atop a sleeping world.

“Do you have any dreams that you’ve never been able to get out of your head?” Charolles asked suddenly.

I thought back vacantly.

“I do.”

“Like what?”

“A birthday party, I guess.”

“A birthday party?”

I had my chin propped on a hand, leaning forward over my lap as I looked out at Monty’s house on the shore.

“I got invited to one at a friend’s house when I was young. He didn’t just have his family with him; he had all of his friends there to celebrate too. There was a huge cake on the table along with a lot of food, and we all wore pointed hats. We sang for him, clapped... I was incredibly jealous.”

“Have you never had one?”

“My parents were barely home, so I never asked. Things weren’t exactly great between us either, so any party we had probably wouldn’t even have been fun.”

That birthday party had shown me a family unlike my own—one where you could come home to your parents, who’d cook for you and celebrate your birth. That type of family had seemed to be the more common one as well, and so I’d gotten envious. Thinking back, it might have been better if I hadn’t gone to the party at all. I couldn’t be jealous of what I didn’t know.

“What about yours?” I asked at length, shaking off my thoughts.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a book. Its leather cover had faded, grown shiny from how much it’d been handled over the years.

“I was obsessed with this.”

“That’s the one you were searching for, right?”

“Right. It’s a story about a mouse-knight and a human princess traveling the world and looking for something truly beautiful... It’s childish, I know. You can laugh if you want.”

I shook my head.

“It sounds like a wonderful story. So you wanted to be the princess, then?”

Charolles leaned forward, speaking quietly, like someone about to tell an important secret.

“I was much more boyish as a child.”

“Oh, so you wanted to be the knight?”

“I did. Even though he was so little, the mouse-knight defeated these huge monsters and always caught the bad guys, using a tiny magic sword and his massive imagination. I used to take the sword my dad kept for chopping wood and would happily swing it around, mimicking the knight. I had no shortage of villains either—he and my brothers were all way taller than I was.”

“No wonder you’re more reliable than me.”

“I’m a well-trained knight, after all.” She chuckled, gently stroking the book’s cover and falling into thought. After a moment, she continued, “I read it over and over and over again. I didn’t know how the story ended, though, so I could never get it out of my head. I wanted to know how it’d gone and whether he’d gotten what he was after. Until I knew that, our journey together couldn’t end.”

“Which is why you’ve got to search for the rest.”

Charolles shook her head, though.

“It doesn’t exist.”

“Just because Monty said so? Even he hasn’t read all the books in the world.”

“That’s not it,” she said, lifting her head to reveal a listless smile—the kind of smile worn by someone who had given up. “He wrote it.”

It all fell into place then, and I finally understood. I scratched my cheek, nodding slowly. If the person that’d written the story said it had no ending, then there was no other answer to find. It was such a simple thing that anyone could understand it—if the author had never created it, then yeah, it wouldn’t exist.

“Do coincidences like this really happen, though? You just come along to a village and find the author living there?”

“I came here on purpose. My dad told me he’d gotten this book in a village he stopped in while traveling for work. I didn’t know which village it was, but I did know that couriers note down everywhere they stay in their maps.”

“So...you’ve been using those maps to check each place?”

“I have. In between jobs, of course, at first. Once the world ended up like this, the search went more quickly. It was fortunate that he’d gotten the book from the writer himself and that he was still alive.”

“So that’s why you don’t need it anymore.”

Charolles finally had the answer she’d been obsessed with finding—but it wasn’t the answer she’d wanted. She must have been disappointed, bereft...or maybe even relieved.

“Um...” I ventured, “why did it have to be that book? Surely there are lots of others?”

“I don’t know my actual parents,” she told me.

“Could you quit just coming out with all that heavy stuff?” I fired back. “I need time to prepare myself for it first.”

She laughed, amused by my sudden plea.

“It’s fine,” she assured me. “I was brought up with even more love than if they’d been my real parents, and I got along with my siblings as well as anyone does. I did wonder where I’d come from, though. The mouse-knight in the story was also searching for his birthplace, and it felt like I was reading about myself. Like maybe my dream could be fulfilled somehow, even if just in a book. I’d be able to smile and close the book, then sleep soundly, content knowing how it all ended.”

I let out a breath of understanding as she planted her hands behind her and leaned back on them to look up at the sky. The moonlight cast floating shadows across her pale throat.

“There’s no end to that story, and my role as a courier is over. I haven’t even ever fallen in love. At this point, I don’t think I care whether tomorrow comes.”

The way she was speaking gave off a different impression than her usual attitude. It seemed almost childish, I thought, but soon revised my opinion. Considering how young she still was, it was probably better phrased as acting her age.

“We can’t have that,” I pointed out. “Nito’s looking forward to the festival.”

“You’re right. We can’t afford to make her sad.”

Without sitting back upright, she turned her head to look curiously at me.

“Is your world a good place?”

“That’s an odd thing to ask.”

“If it is, then things must be hard for you. You’re lost in this world with nothing to do while everything ends around you. There’s no hope of saving it either.”

Her voice was firm and carried no tones of despair or anger. She’d simply accepted the fact that the world was ending and spoke about it with no real feeling. Everyone still alive here probably needed that detachment in order to live in this world.

“Things are still fun here, in their own way.”

“Because you’re with Nito?”

I shrugged in place of any real answer. After that, I spaced out for a bit, watching her face. Her long eyelashes quivered slightly and I knew right then that this memory would always be fresh in my mind.

Yet even this conversation with Charolles would someday break down into crystals and fade away like it’d never happened. We were facing each other, but not looking at each other, both of us simply spacing out. Neither of us found any answers, nor had any significant thoughts. Time spent just drifting like this was most definitely a necessity in life.

Even so, though the boat wasn’t a rental with a time limit or anything, I knew it was time for us to head back. I picked up the oars and turned the boat around, rowing back to the shore. Charolles said nothing. However pleasant the time you spent was, it ended eventually, and we’d both come to accept that understanding. Despite our reluctance, we didn’t fight against it. We knew we couldn’t keep floating here forever—we had to go back to reality.

When we got back to the jetty, I got out first, mooring the boat. As Charolles stood up to disembark as well, I spoke to her.

“Did you have fun?”

There was a pause before she answered.

“I did, actually. I’d been longing for something like this, a moment that feels like it could have come from a story.”

“I’m just sorry it was me you had to share it with,” I said, holding out a hand toward her.

She looked steadily at my hand and then took it with a small smile. Her own hand was delicate and soft, and her skin had a slight chill to it. She hopped lightly out onto the jetty.

“You’re a strange one. You really are.”

“Well, I’m an otherworlder, after all.”

“Are all otherworlders like you, then?”

“Maybe. I think there are some weirder than me, at least.”

Silence hung between us for a while.

“I’m glad it was you that I met. You’re a little wonderful.”

“Just a little?”

“Just a little.”

Judging by the smile on her face, Charolles looked like she was having fun, and so I smiled back. Just a little, huh? I’m not going to complain about that, as long as it gets a smile.

We stopped to let Monty know we were heading back, before remounting her trike. The two of them needed to have a talk, but now wasn’t the time for it. For now, we needed to head to bed. Our wonderful little night continued for just a bit longer as I decided to entrust our hope to tomorrow.

3

Nito, of course, woke up first. She was the only one of us that’d had a proper night’s sleep, after all. Her bright voice woke me, and I turned over and buried my head back into the pillow, trying to ignore it.

“Keisuke, wake up! We’ve got a busy day today!”

“We should just do the festival tomorrow,” I mumbled through the pillow. “Then we can spend today excited as well.”

“You just want to go back to sleep. If you can make excuses, you can get up. Come on!”

She pulled the pillow out from under me and, in that moment, I discovered what a clam felt when you yanked it from its shell. Her determination and bubbling energy were irrepressible; I was getting no more sleep today, it seemed. I pulled myself up with a grunt and then climbed out of bed, yawning.

Once I was on my feet, I rubbed my eyes to clear away the tears my yawn had produced. Nito impatiently nudged me into motion. She pushed me forward the whole way as I walked along to the main hall, where I found Charolles already up and dressed, sitting on one of the pews.

The fresh morning air made the memories from the night before feel a little extra embarrassing. I didn’t quite know whether to carry on with how things had been going yesterday or to start fresh. Charolles, on the other hand, was apparently unbothered; her expression was the same as ever as she looked up at my arrival.

“That’s some impressive bedhead,” she said nonchalantly.

“I’ve always had pretty frizzy hair,” I explained as I ran my fingers through it to try and get it back into some semblance of order. “That get it?”

“It’s wonderful. You look like a man of the wilds. It might be best not to let people see you like that, though.”

“Well, thanks. That’s the first time I’ve gotten such high praise for it,” I joked back. “I’ll just go have a wash.”

I could feel a deadly sharp gaze on me. Turning, I saw Nito staring fixedly at me, a slight frown on her face.

“What’s up?” I asked her.

“You two seem closer than yesterday.”

Whew, that’s some intuition she has. It sent shivers down my spine, in fact.

I went to say that it was nothing, but that didn’t really feel right. It wasn’t like we’d done anything wrong, so there was no need to lie. All the same, I didn’t really want to explain everything either. Just as I’d decided that I didn’t want to hide it and would tell her, the door opened and Fago entered. Immediately, Nito gasped and ran for our room.

“What’s with her?” Fago asked.

From an outside perspective, it seemed almost like Nito had fled at the sight of her, so even Fago was somewhat bewildered.

“I think you’ll understand soon. Don’t worry about it,” I told her with a rueful smile.

Before I’d even finished speaking, though, Nito came running back—clutching the invitation, of course. She stopped in front of the old woman and held it out to her.

“Fago, take this, please.”

“What’s with all this fuss so early in the morning?” Fago asked, peering at the invitation and reading it over.

After a moment, she smiled. It was the kindest expression I’d seen on her face in the whole time I’d known her.

“Well, isn’t this a pretty picture? Did you paint it?”

Nito nodded several times. The invitation we’d chosen for Fago was the picture of the temple. After all, it was perfect for her, considering she came here every morning.

“I’ve never been given something so fancy before. Thank you,” Fago said softly, taking it.

“Um, will you...join in?” Nito asked.

“Of course I will. There’s nothing big that I can do, but I’ll bring some food.”

Nito nodded, giving a bright smile. I hadn’t thought Fago would refuse, but I’d still been a little nervous. Nito had put everything into making those invitations, and my heart ached imagining what it would do to her if they were refused. I knew that Charolles felt the same way, and we exchanged glances and slight smiles of relief.

This success had gotten me in the mood for delivering the next one right away, but we had our routine of cleaning the temple with Fago to keep. We’d make the place shine, both as thanks for letting us stay and in hopes that today would go well, I decided.

4

Paula’s car was parked in front of the theater, facing away from us as we drove up, the same as yesterday. I hadn’t considered it then, but now I realized that this must have meant she’d returned to the theater from the same direction as us. In other words, it was clear that she’d gone to check on Fago at the temple.

I pulled the Kettle in behind Paula’s car, and we headed inside. It wasn’t just Nito and me today; Charolles had ridden with us too. Her role wasn’t just to watch us give the invitations, of course. Later, she’d be carrying supplies that we needed her magic bag for.

Both of them were just inside as we entered. They must have been cleaning. Paula was wearing a handkerchief over her mouth and another over her hair, and she had a broom in her hand. Jill was in the middle of opening a window on the second floor.

“Oh my! What brings all three of you here?” Paula exclaimed, hitching up her usual colorful dress as she came on over.

Jill trotted down the stairs too. I met her eyes as she approached, and she inclined her head slightly. I nodded back. I knew that without Jill’s help here, Paula would never accept the invitation. The issue was that we’d had no chance to arrange things beforehand. I’d just have to hope that she could infer what was going on.

Charolles placed a hand on Nito’s back. The smaller girl seemed to draw courage from the touch and took a step forward. She looked up at Paula towering above her and then held out the invitation.

“Paula, would you take this?”

“A gift? For me? Oh, Nito, you lady-killer,” she said jokingly, taking it and then dropping her gaze to it.

Painted onto it was Fago’s shoe workshop—in other words, Paula’s home. There was no way that Paula would be able to look at that and not realize what it meant and what emotions Nito had put into it. It truly was a painting full of her earnest feelings.

I waited with a slight amount of hope for Paula’s reply. Nito stared up at her uneasily while I looked on more calmly.

“I’m really happy with this, Nito. Both the picture and the invitation. They’re wonderful,” Paula said, crouching down to meet Nito’s gaze. “But I—”

“Oh, right,” I spoke up, seeing my cue. “We’ve got one for Jill as well.”

The young woman in question jolted in surprise.

“Hey, Nito, you should give Jill hers too,” I prompted.

“Eh, ah, um,” Nito stammered.

“Go on. She’s waiting,” I said, following Charolles’s example and putting my hand on her back.

Nito’s straightforward feelings were wonderful—they were almost blindingly bright to adults mired in their worries. That didn’t guarantee immediate acceptance, though. Sometimes, you had to take a slightly more roundabout approach.

Jill was just as flustered as Nito. Her gaze wouldn’t settle at first, and then she threw me a searching look. I couldn’t let Paula get suspicious, so I just looked evenly back.

“Um, Jill,” Nito called, “this is an invitation to the Lantern Flower Festival tonight.”

Jill floundered for a second before replying.

“Th-Thank you. But I...” she hedged, looking between Nito, Paula, and me.

She flapped her hands around, uncertain, and didn’t immediately take the paper.

The invitation was doubtless a lot for her to process. She wasn’t used to being around people, so taking part in a festival would be difficult for her. Right now, she had a look of near-panic on her face as she tried to decide how to deal with it, rather than just taking it like Paula had.

I wanted Jill to come, both for Paula and Fago’s sake as well as for my own little idea. I had a plan, and I wanted to bring her in on it, but if Paula noticed, she’d never set foot anywhere near the festival.

That left me no choice. I hadn’t wanted to do this, but I knew I couldn’t let my pride win out here. I waited for the next time Jill was looking at me, and then I winked, just like Paula always did.

I never thought the day would come when I’d give a serious wink to a woman.

Whether I’d managed a proper wink was beside the point. As long as it’d gotten the point across to Jill, it was proper enough. I decided to consider the slight fear in her answering expression as my imagination.

“O-Okay. I’ll join in...” she managed, hesitantly taking the invitation.

“Really?!” Nito gushed.

I’d taken a heavy blow, but we’d managed to achieve our goal. Paula’s eyes were wide. She knew Jill well, so her shock and sense of unease about the other woman’s answer were probably to be expected, but I didn’t think she had even an inkling that we were plotting anything.

“Oh, wow,” Jill murmured, staring at the invitation.

Nito had painted the theater for Jill. This was where they’d met each other and where the shock of Jill’s singing had gained them both a new friend, so it was an important place to both of them.

“Um, Paula, we’d really like it if you would join in as well,” Nito said, turning to face Paula again.

The timing was perfect, and so was the courageous look in her eyes. The effect that both together had was amazing. Jill’s acceptance had also likely had a strong influence. Paula, still crouched, looked again at the invitation in her hand. She remained silent for a long moment, and we didn’t rush her, just stood waiting for her decision.

“If I go, it might ruin the whole thing. I might even end up bawling and running away.”

She was probably worried about how things would go with Fago. I was sure that she didn’t need to be, though. Fago wouldn’t act like she feared—but it’d take a prompt, and a slight push, to help Paula find her resolve. Just as I was about to open my mouth, something tugged at my wrist. Glancing that direction, I saw that Charolles was shaking her head. At the same moment, Nito beamed at Paula.

“That’s fine. We’ll be with you!”

Paula’s mouth fell open, then her shoulders started to shake, until she finally broke out into laughter. It was hardly a surprising response. Really, it might have been the only fitting response. Even I couldn’t help a weak chuckle.

There was absolutely no logic in what Nito had said. How on earth would that make anything better? I had no idea, but I knew that its absurdity was exactly why Paula could accept the reassurance. If Nito said it, then it must be true. The rest of us had lost that frankness at some point, so Nito’s bright words served to give us courage. Paula wiped away the tears welling up in her eyes and then lowered her head.

“I’ll be counting on you, then,” she said. “I can hardly refuse if you’re willing to go so far.”

I’d never forget the smile that made its way onto Nito’s face then. She clenched her fists in front of her chest and then spun around to face us, cheering, “We did it!”

Now I was sure that Monty would agree as well.

5

“Sorry, but I’ll have to turn you down.”

Things didn’t go anywhere near as well as I’d thought. He had complimented the painting of the sun setting over the village, but that was a completely separate matter.

“You...won’t come?” Nito asked.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any interest in those kinds of gatherings.”

Nito was sitting next to me, and I felt her shoulders droop. Her idea had worked on Paula, but not on Monty. A simple, earnest request and bowing of her head wouldn’t get an agreement from him. Before I acted, I locked eyes with Charolles—sitting on Nito’s other side—to check. She’d stopped me earlier, so I’d wanted to make sure this time, but she just waved me on.

“Monty, would you be interested in hearing some wonderful singing?”

“Oh?” he replied, an intrigued note in his voice.

“Her song’s so beautiful that it’ll have you hooked by the first note. If the world hadn’t ended up like this, this songstress’s talent would have never been discovered.”

It was carefully indirect, but all true. Jill had come to the theater because of the world falling to ruin. Because there were no more people around to notice her powers, she could finally sing a little as well. She had a talent she would never have allowed people to know otherwise, a beautiful voice only audible due to the world ending. Putting it like that was a bit trite, sure, but I’d used that phrasing exactly because it was the kind of thing that always stirred people’s hearts.

Monty snorted.

“Playing on my curiosity, I see?”

“Well, you’re always bored at night, right? That won’t be the case tonight, at least. I guarantee it.”

I had no hope of reading the beady-eyed guinea pig’s expression, so I simply swallowed anxiously and waited as Monty stroked his whiskers.

“You would make a good con artist,” he said eventually. “They’re always using snatches of conversation to find weaknesses and ways to tempt people.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“You can take it however you wish,” Monty said, picking the invitation up off the table. “I shall prevail upon you after all, young lady, for that song.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, and Nito patted me on the knee in thanks. We’d managed to get everyone to agree to come to the festival now.

However, we still had something else to do here—gathering the lantern flowers from around the lake. These strange, glowing, floating flowers were almost the whole point of the Lantern Flower Festival. When we asked Monty about it, he told us they grew on the slope behind his house.

We stood and left, but as we were walking out, I gave a quick excuse about forgetting something and needing to split off. I couldn’t think of a better way of doing it. Nito and Charolles both looked pretty doubtfully at me, but they didn’t question it too much. Honestly, they’d probably let it slide because my excuse was so transparent. They were both really grown up in that way.

I watched them head off to collect the flowers and then went back into the house. Monty was sitting on the sofa and perusing a book, round glasses perched on his long nose.

“You didn’t really tell them that you’d forgotten something so you could double back, did you?”

I hadn’t thought he’d hear me through the window. Maybe he was just guessing? I forced a laugh and brushed him off.

“Nah, I’d never do that.”

“My eyes might be going, but my ears are still sharp,” he retorted. “I heard you loud and clear, and I take back what I said about your talents earlier.”

Maybe he really did hear me, then.

I fought back the urge to make a quip and sat back down on the sofa. Monty kept his eyes on the book. At least that made it easier for me to say what I needed to, and it meant that I could leave out most of the preamble.

“I heard about things with Charolles—about how you wrote the story.”

“I did. Quite a while ago now.”

“Let me just ask straight up. Is there really no continuation?”

“That Charolles girl isn’t anyone close to me. I have no obligation to be kind to her, nor to provide her with an honest answer.”

That was neither an agreement nor a denial. He took his glasses off and placed them on the open book.

“I do have some familiarity with you, though,” he continued. “Allow me to ask something in turn. Why are you interested in that story’s ending?”

It took me a little time to come up with an answer.

“I’m not, at least not in the ending itself. It’s just that Charolles thinks so highly of it, but now it’s lost to her, and I can’t help but wonder if there’s anything to be done.”

“Wanting to help someone close to you is a laudable goal. But I have no obligation to assist with that, do I? I don’t make a habit of making others feel good.”

His bluntness was very him, and almost refreshing to hear. He picked up his glasses and went to put them back on his nose.

“That story must be important to you.”

He stopped, glasses still held aloft, and directed his beady gaze at me.

“I don’t know anything about working as an author, so I apologize if I’m wrong and sound way too full of myself,” I added.

I’d come to this world, but hadn’t become a hero or a mage or anything. I wasn’t special in any way, and the world was already long dead regardless, with nothing I could do about it. However, if one thing about me had changed since coming here, it was that I’d realized the point in telling people how I felt. It was extremely hard to do, but that just made it all the more worthwhile. Saying how I felt invited them to do the same, and that sharing was what built bonds between people.

“For you, it might be nothing more than a bundle of paper you wrote on long ago. But Charolles lost herself in that story. She saw herself in that mouse-knight. Despite how many years it’s been, she’s carried your story with her, cradling it within her heart. Even as the world fell apart around her, she used the little time she had left to search for the continuation of it.”

I was always nervous when I let out my feelings like this. I always worried about how to get them across, and what the other person would think of me—even whether they’d reject me, rendering it all meaningless. The words I wanted to say were always the unvarnished truth, straight from my heart.

“If there’s someone that treasures a story you created even more than you do, can you really say there is no connection between the two of you? Isn’t it that kind of person that you write for in the first place?”

My ears felt hot. I could feel my blood rushing into my cheeks and all through my face. I didn’t know whether I was right or not. I could only hope that I’d get through to him and that my words would ring true.

“You do have some obligation to give her an honest answer. She loves the story that you brought into being. So you need to take responsibility for that. If you still call yourself an author, you should show her the entirety of that story.”

Monty just closed his book and placed his glasses on top of it.

“You think that I treasure the end of that story and am keeping it to myself?” he asked.

“I don’t think it matters.”

He looked back at me, puzzled.

“If you have it, show her. If not, write it. You’re an author, aren’t you?”

He covered his mouth with one small hand. Eventually, a laugh made its way past that barrier. More laughter escaped intermittently, making a sound almost like purring. It seemed like it might go on for a while, but then he took a deep breath and slowly let it out again.

“It’s been too long since I’ve heard something so honest.”

“Honest?” I asked after a hesitant pause.

“Like nothing else is,” he affirmed. “Very well, I understand what you’re trying to say. I’ll consider it.”

I resisted the urge to ask what he meant. If Monty said he’d think about it, then he would. I’d said everything I’d thought of the night before, anyway. I couldn’t say anything more. All I could do was trust that I’d done my best, though I didn’t know how it’d turn out. I bowed my head and stood up to leave.

Once I’d stepped outside, I took a deep breath. Thinking back on the conversation, I felt more embarrassed than accomplished. Not to mention, I seemed to be drenched in sweat.

“Keisuke!”

I turned at the sound of my name. The other two were on their way back. Nito raced over, pouting up at me.

“Why didn’t you come? It was so pretty. There were white flowers everywhere!”

“I got caught up in conversation with Monty. Are those the lantern flowers?”

Nito was carrying a crown made of white flowers. She held it up in front of her face to show it to me.

“Yes, they are. Charolles taught me how to make this!”

“It looks much better than I’d expect from a first attempt. Guess you’re good at flower weaving as well.”

“It seems so,” she answered. “Even I was surprised.”

The sight of Nito proudly puffing her chest out was just so precious that all the tension rushed out of me. Charolles arrived just then, a smile on her lips. Nito suddenly turned her gaze to the flower crown and then held it out to me.

“It’s my greatest work, so you can have it.”

“An honor indeed,” I replied, bending down.

She stretched up ever so slightly and put it on my head. I straightened to give her a proper look at me.

“Does it suit me, then?”

“Hmm... Maybe I should take it back?”

“Hey!”

“Just kidding.”

Nito’s bright laughter filled the air around us, and before we’d realized it, Charolles and I were laughing along with her.