Chapter 6 — Keeping the Scarlet Glow Alive

1

“It’s a little late to be saying so, but maybe we went too far,” Charolles commented.

“I agree, actually.”

We were standing side by side, looking up at the pile of firewood we’d made in the center of the courtyard in front of the temple. We’d used the wood from the stores behind the temple. Unlike household firewood that was split into smaller sections, these were huge, whole logs merely stripped of their bark—probably meant to be used for the festival in question. While Charolles was stronger than she looked due to having some animal traits, it had still been an ordeal to carry them here, even working as a pair.

“Is this what you meant by ‘bonfire’?” she asked.

“Well...I’ve never actually made one.”

“I’m noticing a trend here.”

“It’s something all guys want to do if they get the chance.”

We’d stacked the wood into a square, with thinner branches and leaves piled up in the center. We’d put some mana stones—normally used as fuel for our vehicles—in there as well, so I was pretty sure it’d burn well.

“Keisuke, is this the right thickness?” Nito asked.

“Perfect.”

She was cutting vegetables on a long table we’d also fetched out of the storeroom. We’d found three barbecue grills, as well, which were essentially metal boxes on legs. Off to the side sat a collection of fresh meat and vegetables that Charolles had provided, along with a bunch of preserved food from the vault we’d gotten Paula to tell us about earlier in the day. We’d gotten the preparations for the festival finished, so now all we had left was to wait for everyone to turn up.

I checked my watch to see the time we’d written on the invitations was fast approaching. The sky was darkening steadily—deep blue stretched out above madder red, the two shades blending into a tranquil purple in the middle.

Fago was the first to arrive, carrying something on a tray. I hurried over to help and smelled something sweet.

“What are they?” I asked, gesturing toward the tray. “They smell great.”

“Scones. I mixed walnuts and dried fruits into the dough. You can’t have a festival without them.”

The “scones” were big yellow puffs and looked pillowy soft. I guessed that they were some regional variation on steamed buns. I took the tray and found that the air above it felt warm, as if they were freshly baked. That made me want to pick one up and just dig into it. Swallowing the drool pooling in my mouth before it could escape, I put the tray down on one of the tables.

Fago took one glance at our bonfire and gave me a flat look.

“Are you trying to burn down the temple?”

Yeah, guess it was too big, I thought with chagrin.

While I was giving our excuses to Fago, Monty came up the hill. Surprisingly, he was pushing a bike. He patted the saddle when he saw the surprise on my face.

“It’s safer than a car and easy to park. Makes a great vehicle, at least until you run up against a hill.”

He stopped the bike and opened the wooden box on its luggage rack, pulling out a fish that looked something like a trout.

“I caught this earlier. You can do what you like with it.”

“Wow, thank you... Were you looking forward to this?”

The fish was obviously fresh, almost straight from the water. He must have gone out onto the lake for it. It was clearly a gift he’d put some effort into.

“It’s a matter of courtesy,” he said, stroking his whiskers. “It has nothing to do with any anticipation on my part.”

“Hmph,” Fago interrupted. “You’ve gotten sulkier as the years have gone by.”

“Oh my, it’s you. Here I’d thought you were just a pile of dried vegetables. I’m impressed you’re still clinging to life, but should you really be up and about? Don’t humans suffer with the years?”

“Better than ending up a fuzzy mop,” she retorted.

I took a step back as they let their insults fly. A full-on war had broken out between them, or so it seemed, and I didn’t want to get involved.

Instead, I took the fish and laid it on a chopping board. Nito had been chopping vegetables nearby, and she stopped to look at it with shining eyes. I doubted she’d had much chance to eat fresh fish in her life, and I could understand the almost-drooling anticipation on her face, but I’d rather have seen her looking at it like that after I’d seasoned and cooked it.

Considering the size of the fish, I reasoned that roasting it whole was probably best. It would have been great roasted along with the veggies, but unfortunately, I didn’t have any miso. While I was lost in thought mulling over my options, Charolles elbowed me.

“I know, no sashimi,” I commented.

“I didn’t say anything,” she replied, then added, “Everyone’s here.”

I followed her pointing finger to see Paula and Jill’s car pull in. It stopped and the two of them got out. Jill looked nervous, but Paula’s expression was even stiffer. Still, they didn’t just stand there; they started walking over.

Fago had been talking with Monty, but she’d stopped when they arrived and was now staring silently at Paula. There wasn’t a word spoken in the courtyard, and a strange tension hung over the entire area.

“You’re here!” I called as cheerily as I could, then waved and trotted over to them.

“I’m gonna die,” Paula murmured.

“Your face’ll get stuck like that, you know. Come on, smile.”

She paused, going still for a moment.

“Nope,” she said, pivoting around. “I’m going home. I can’t do this.”

“It’s okay. It’ll go fine,” I assured her.

“How can you be so sure?” she retorted, then groaned, “I just know it’s gonna be awful. What face is she making?”

I looked over and saw Fago talking to Nito; the girl must have seen the need to offer some encouragement.

“She’s smiling. Seems pretty happy, to be honest.”

“That’s obviously a lie, but thank you.”

Paula turned her head away, biting a fingernail. Just getting them in the same place wouldn’t solve things. I’d known that. The thing that would change the situation was Jill’s singing. I moved next to her as she looked between Paula and Fago with worry, and then spoke quietly to her.

“Are you okay?”

I’d been focused on Paula, but Jill was clearly nervous as well. Her lips were pale and her body was trembling slightly.

“I-I’m okay,” she answered. “Sorry, um, so...”

“You’re right. I want you to sing here.”

I’d been pretty sure that she’d cottoned on when we gave her the invitation, and given her current nervousness, it certainly seemed like she had. She screwed her eyes shut and nodded in silent agreement. All the same, I was worried about her, enough that I wanted to call the whole thing off. That’s how nervous she seemed.

“I...I asked for this, and thanks to you, Paula and her mother are finally in the same place... So...I’ll do what I can.”

Along with the determination that’d crept into her voice, her expression suddenly firmed with resolve. I stopped worrying; it would have only disrespected her resolution. If she’d decided she’d do it, then I’d believe in her.

“But, um,” she murmured, moving closer, “what feelings should I use?”

That was indeed the question.

“A song of hope,” I said softly. “A song of keeping others in your heart, of believing in tomorrow and trusting that things will be okay. Just a slight push on the back.”

“Hope” was probably too abstract of a direction to give her, but it fit. The feelings, the thoughts...everything we really needed for this was contained in those four letters. Jill simply nodded and put a hand to her chest, closing her eyes, as if to make sure her emotions were just right.

Then the air seemed to change. My skin prickled and went numb. A sense of anticipation filled the whole courtyard. I felt like I should greet everyone and open the festivities. Maybe light the fire and stand with it behind me to introduce Jill and get everyone ready to listen. I’d thought of all sorts of ideas earlier, but it was all for nothing in the end. The moment she sang her first note, we were all taken in.

It was a quiet song, with no accompaniment. No spotlight shone on her, and no audience-filled stands rose up around her. This wasn’t the theater, and she wasn’t on stage. It wasn’t the performance she’d dreamed of—but it was one meant for someone important to her, and for that woman’s mother, and she sang to us of her own will. Her voice was kind and warm, and it whispered directly to our hearts. It started echoing louder, her feelings bearing down against our chests. Her heart-wrenching soprano held within it all her adoration and well-wishes for the person most important to her in the world. Hers was a song of hope—of lifting your head to look for tomorrow.

I slowly moved away, crossing the courtyard while everyone was listening to Jill sing. I came up next to Nito and whispered into her ear. She nodded vigorously and ran over to Paula, taking her hand. Meanwhile, I picked my moment and moved over to Fago. Monty acknowledged me with a look and then seemed to understand what was going on and tactfully moved away. I couldn’t help but marvel at his intuition.

“It’s a good song, right?”

“Yes...it is,” Fago answered, looking at me in surprise; apparently, she’d been listening so raptly that she hadn’t noticed me come over.

The sun had sunk behind the mountains, and it was getting darker out. The sky was still lit, though, tinted a light blue by the moon that hung above us, alone in the sky but shining as brightly as any star. Looking out over that scenery, with Jill’s singing echoing around us, it felt like our hearts were just that little bit more open.

“Fago, I want to ask you again.” She was looking at Jill, listening to that song of hope, but also to me, just a little. “This doesn’t go further... It’s just between us. Do you really not want to see Paula? You don’t want to talk to her, even though you’re right here in the same place?”

It was an obvious question, you might say. It didn’t need asking, perhaps. But sometimes, you had to put those obvious questions into words. Just saying it out loud might be enough to save someone.

Fago let out a breath, before replying quietly.

“Of course I do. That’s my child. Man or woman changes nothing. I just realized it far too late.”

I tapped her on the shoulder, then pointed behind us. She turned around, her eyes went wide, and then she looked back at me. I heard her tut, but I’d happily take that hit.

“You came,” I said.

Paula was standing there, having been quietly pulled over by Nito. Fago looked up at Paula, simultaneously frowning and letting out a rueful laugh.

“You look awful. Tears everywhere.”

Paula’s purple eyeshadow was running in tracks down her face, carried by her tears. She sobbed, stepping forward.

“Mama... I’m so sorry. I couldn’t be the son you wanted. I turned out like this instead... I always wanted to say sorry.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Fago said, embracing her daughter’s large frame and gently patting her on the back as if soothing a child.

“You’re no son of mine,” she added. “You’re my wonderful daughter.”

Paula’s sobs intensified as she fell to her knees, clinging to Fago. I tugged at Nito’s hand, leading her away. They’d be all right on their own now, and we’d just be in the way. Nito was sniffling, and I couldn’t say that I wasn’t as well.

Jill’s song ended and Nito broke into applause, eyes still teary. One by one, the rest of us joined in, and while we might not have held a candle to a full auditorium, Jill’s face reddened as she lowered her head in several bows, equal parts shy and happy.

2

The curtain of night had well and truly been drawn over the sky now, so we lit the bonfire. It burned just as fiercely as Charolles and I had predicted, but the vibrant energy of it made up for the small number of people we had, so it ended up being fine. We ate our feast of fried meat, fish, and scones, except Monty, who only ate the vegetables. Everyone was cheerful and joking around with each other. There might not have been many of us, but there was no shortage of laughter.

“Listen here, Kei! Mama said she’d make me heels! As many pairs as I like! There’s not a better mama in the world!”

“Would you be quiet?!”

“What? I’m happy!”

It was shocking how much better their relationship had gotten. They fought so hard to avoid this meeting, but now look at them. Neither Nito nor I were about to complain, though; we were all smiles.

“Thank you, Kei. It’s all because of you.”

“Nito, Charolles, and Jill all helped too.”

“Then we need to thank all of them too! Come on, mama!”

“Don’t pull the elderly around like that!”

The two of them headed toward the bonfire, hand in hand. Jill and Nito were over there, and I could hear their cheery conversation from where I was standing.

“I owe you an apology,” Monty said, coming over as I was grilling some fish. “I didn’t actually expect anything.”

“From the festival? Or from the song?”

“From either, but more the latter. If I had to describe that song, as an author...I’d call it astonishing.”

I burst out into laughter. He was right, though—it had been astonishing. Jill’s song lightened a heavy heart. It let you believe that there was light, even in the darkest night. Her song held hope inside it.

“There’s a box on my bike’s luggage rack,” he said.

“Hang on, isn’t that what the fish was in?”

“Well, it might smell a tad, but that’s a minor detail. It’s yours.”

“I wish you’d have given that more thought... Wait, that box—”

“Is the one I showed you, yes. I’ve unlocked it.”

“The one with your hope inside?”

“Indeed. My hope is bound up in paper, though. I’ll die not long from now, and, assuming there is some hereafter, I wanted to give the rest of that story to my daughter. It’s by waiting for that day that I’ve lived this long.” He laughed at himself, but there was no shame in what he’d said.

“It was your hope because it meant you could die at any point?” I asked.

“If I could believe I’d see her again, it would be just like going out for a ride on my bike.”

I deflated at his joking tone. I was still too uptight to joke about a person’s death like that. With the world in the state it was, though, people had to find their own hope in order to survive. What form that took and what desire sustained it varied from person to person, and I couldn’t judge that.

“I wrote the story for her. We made it into a book together, bit by bit. I promised to finish it before she died, but I couldn’t. Afterward, it was too painful to look at it, so I let it go.”

That must have been the copy that Charolles had.

“Why didn’t you complete it?” I asked. “If you’d written the whole thing, I mean.”

“I hadn’t written the last page. The idea of it was too lonely. There are stories you don’t want to let end, right?”

Realizing just how important it was to him, I felt guilty for how self-important I’d been about it yesterday. I opened my mouth, but he raised a hand to stop me.

“I’m grateful. Your upfront, honest words made me remember the true meaning of my job. So, before I meet my maker, I’ve written that single page and made a wonderful story.”

He gently patted my shoulder.

“Your laughter and her song have taught me to believe again—that, even ruined, the world is a beautiful place. The box is yours. Do with it as you wish.”

He made to leave after that, but I called after him.

“You don’t want to give it to her yourself?”

“I’m not that unrefined. An unexpected gift will be far better coming from you,” he said, answering just like I’d have expected of an author.

3

Charolles was standing a little ways off to the side, in a quieter spot next to the temple doors. As I approached, I noticed that her expression looked slightly colder than usual, but I already knew that it wasn’t from displeasure.

“Having fun?” I asked.

“Lots. It’s been quite a while since I’ve been to such a vibrant gathering,” she answered.

We stood side by side just looking out across the courtyard for a moment. The light of the huge bonfire was staving off the dark of night, bathing the space in its warm glow. Paula was dancing, her skirt flaring in time with Jill’s bright singing. Nito was clapping along, while Fago and Monty were laughing as they cheerfully heckled the group. Everyone’s shadows were lengthening across the ground.

“I actually have a request for you,” I admitted.

“Again? Well, I’ll at least hear you out.”

“I want you to deliver something.”

Another stretch of quiet followed my statement.

“Didn’t I say that there was no more use for couriers?” she asked at length.

“Didn’t you also say you’d hear me out?”

She raised her hands in concession and fell silent, looking back at me expectantly.

“It’s a request for Jill as well, though I haven’t gotten her to agree to it yet.”

I pulled my phone from my pocket. It was a small oblong device. Or, depending on how you looked at it, a tiny box.

“I’m pretty sure there are other survivors in pockets here and there, just like us. They might be alone, though, and suffering, with no hope for tomorrow. What people like us need is a box of hope.”

I looked down at the phone in my hand. It was irreplaceable, one of the few things I had that let me be certain my last world had really existed. Even then, it had to be better used helping other people than just serving my own sentimentality. I was fine now; I didn’t need it anymore.

“This box is a tool from my world. It will record clear audio and play it back over and over. I want you to use it to record lots of Jill’s singing—songs that will give people the push they need to keep going, that will soothe their hearts and give them hope,” I said, offering it to Charolles. “I want you to take this and use it to deliver those songs to the people still living in this world, so that they can smile and laugh again.”

Everyone’s laughter echoed around us, lingering as my words faded. The world was dead. There was no doubt about that, and everyone in it had lost people precious to them, longed and searched for things they would never find. We all had nights when we weren’t sure we’d ever see the dawn. Yet all of us here tonight were sharing this moment with each other. All of us were laughing and celebrating together. If there was still any hope in this world, here it was.

Charolles didn’t spare a glance for the phone. She just looked straight back at me, her eyes reflecting the cheerful scarlet of the fire as she held my gaze.

“You’re a real dreamer,” she said eventually.

“Too much of one?” I asked.

“Much too much,” she said. “Are you sure? It’s important to you, isn’t it?”

“That’s why I’m hiring you for the job. I’m the client, the goods are this box of hope, and the addressee... That’s the people of the world. See, you’ve got plenty to do,” I laughed.

Will this work? I wondered to myself. Charolles gave a bemused shrug and then took the phone from my hand.

“This is the first time I’ve been given an assignment as ludicrous as delivering hope.”

“I guess you’re not a fan of sentimental stuff like that, then. I just thought it might be good.”

Charolles smiled at me, though, her face lit by the warm flames of the festival bonfire. It was a soft, gentle, and gorgeous smile.

“No...I love sentimental things.”

A shiver ran down my spine, and my legs felt suddenly unsteady. I almost couldn’t keep standing. I’d been somewhat embarrassed by my phrasing to start with, and now, in the face of her answering me like that, it was almost too much—I had to wrestle down the urge to cry out.

“Um, well, you know,” I stammered instead, “we should go talk to Jill, um, together. We need to record those songs before you can deliver them, after all.”

“Why are you so flustered all of a sudden?”

“I’m not,” I insisted. “Yeah, not flustered at all.”

“I suppose you are just that little bit weird.” She chuckled.

There was nothing I could do but throw my hands up in surrender and try for a change of topic. I stood there for a moment desperately trying to think of one.

“Oh, right,” I managed eventually. “About your pay.”

“Right. This is a massive job, so can I expect a commensurate reward?”

“Yes. I already have it prepared. An utterly unique treasure.”

“And where are you keeping such a wonderful thing?”

“It’s inside a box right now... Though it’s a bit fishy-smelling.”

“I don’t have the slightest idea what you mean.”

I wasn’t sure whether to hand it over now or wait so I could at least wash off the outside first. As I was worrying about that, Nito ran up. She took Charolles’s hand and pulled at it.

“Charolles, can we have the lantern flowers?!”

“Of course. The two of us picked so many, after all.”

There was no resisting Nito’s eager smile. Charolles and I exchanged glances and gave each other a nod, mutually deciding to leave the grown-up negotiations for later and just enjoy ourselves for now. Then Charolles moved over to the bonfire and deposited a veritable mountain of lantern flowers in front of it from her magic bag. Nito, following Fago’s instructions, picked one of them up and then softly tossed it into the fire.

“W-Woooow!”

We all looked up at the flare of light as the flower caught fire. Its petals shone scarlet as they burned, floating up into the sky and then scattering outward. The momentary glittering as they dissipated looked like dozens of red shooting stars falling through the night sky.

After that, everyone else offered up their own flowers in turn: Fago, then Paula, then Jill, then Monty, then Charolles, and then finally me. Each flower sparkled as it burned, sending countless shards of light dancing through the air.

As my flower’s sparks faded, I whispered something into Nito’s ear. She whipped her head around in surprise, shaking it and saying, “We can’t do that!” Despite her claim, though, a gleam of curiosity lit up her eyes. So I gathered up a mound of the flowers in both hands and then passed it to her. She frowned at me, but then mumbled out an excuse along the lines of, “You’ve given them to me now, so I’ve got no choice, but you’re the one who wanted to do this,” as she turned and cast them all into the fire at once.

They immediately burst into brilliant flames, billowing up into the sky and drifting back down like falling snowflakes, and Nito let out a shout of joy that echoed through the courtyard. We stood there next to each other, watching them drift.

Neither of us will ever forget this, I thought to myself. It was a stronger memory than any other, and it would always keep shining. I believed that deep in my heart. Even if the world ended with the dawn, that moment would live on.

4

I woke up during the night, probably due to the leftover excitement from the Lantern Flower Festival. The adults had quickly spotted the wine I’d given as an offering to the saint, and all of them—particularly Paula—had indulged in some drinks, making the festival more boisterous both figuratively and literally. Even I’d been dragged into it; Paula had pulled me off the sidelines to dance with her. Fago had danced with Monty, and Nito with Charolles, and they’d all enjoyed themselves, but for me, anxiety had won out over enjoyment.

I rubbed my eyes and pulled myself up, then glanced to the side and found Nito wasn’t in her bed. Out from under the covers I got, heading into the corridor. Since I’d already given the phone to Charolles, I didn’t have a light source, so I had to rely on the moonlight shining in through the windows as I made my way to the main hall. When I opened the door, I found Nito sitting on the front pew, painting a picture of the saint by lantern light. I stood in the doorway for a moment, surveying the scene before me.

“Why are you up so late?” I asked eventually.

“Oh, Keisuke. Did I wake you?”

Her voice was clear, so I supposed she just hadn’t been sleepy.

“I just couldn’t sleep,” I told her, walking over and sitting at her side.

For a while, the only sound in the room was Nito’s paintbrush rasping over the paper. The paints she used for her watercolors were different from the tube paints I’d seen her use before. She had a shallow metal box lined with small rectangular divots, each one occupied by a different color of paint. A gap running down the middle of the box held two familiar bullets.

“The Lantern Flower Festival was fun,” she said, somewhat softly.

“It sure was. I’m glad we did it,” I told her. “Thank you, Nito.”

She didn’t say anything at first; I just waited.

“I should be the one thanking you. I wasn’t all that helpful.”

I shook my head.

“We were only able to do it at all because you’d said you wanted to. Suggesting something is an indispensable role in making it happen. Also, if it weren’t for your invitations, I don’t think we could have gotten everyone here.”

Nito paused again. Silence hung between us for several long moments.

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” she said eventually, her voice barely more than a murmur. “But you put in all kinds of effort when I wasn’t watching, didn’t you?”

“Well, I don’t know about that.”

“You can’t get out of it that easily. You need to tell me the whole story later.”

Her words had a forceful tone to them that told me any excuses I made would do me no good. Being seen through so thoroughly wasn’t the nicest of feelings. Weird, I haven’t actually done anything wrong...

“It’s a beautiful village,” she said.

“It is,” I agreed.

“Fago, Paula, Jill, Monty...and Charolles, they’re all such wonderful people.”

“I think so too.”

“But we have to leave them again.”

Maybe I should suggest we stay. We had our goals—Nito was searching for her Golden Sea, and I was searching for the big man in black—but we didn’t know if we’d ever actually find what we were looking for. No one would have blamed us for spending some more time in this comfortable village. Even then, Nito had said that we had to leave. She’d made the decision to forge on ahead without stopping.

“It’s lonely, isn’t it?”

“Yes...it is...” she answered, the tail end of her sentence wavering; her breath grew harsher and harsher, before it eventually gave way to muffled sobs.

I looked straight up at the statue. Fago had come here every day and prayed, and that prayer had come true. I might not have really ever done so before, and I couldn’t come here every day like she had, but I wanted to pray as well. It might have been an all-too-selfish prayer, but that didn’t matter to me. I just wanted Nito to never be left alone, to always be able to smile, to be happy.

That’s the only prayer I have, I murmured mentally, so...please.

Nito dried her eyes on her sleeve and sniffled.

“Keisuke, you danced with Paula earlier,” she said.

“Don’t remind me. It was intense. I still need some time to come to terms with it.”

Nito laughed, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“I was a little jealous of Paula,” she said.

Well, there’s only one thing to do here, I thought, and leaped to my feet, offering a hand to her.

“May I have this dance, my lady?”

I really didn’t look the part of the charming prince, but that didn’t matter. Nito was the only one that could see me. Her eyes widened, but she smiled and gave a slightly choked, “You may,” as she stood and took my hand.

We stepped in close and began to sway. The only music we had was Nito’s off-key humming—amusingly enough, it was a pop song from Japan—and neither of us could dance at all, really. We were out of time with the music, staggering and stepping on each other’s feet. You could hardly have even called it dancing, but Nito still had a smile on her lips, so I was happy.

We danced together in the dim lantern light, watched over only by the saint’s statue.

Though putting it that way felt a bit like putting on airs.

[Keisuke’s Notes] Couriers

You might think they’re just delivery people, but they have magic 4D bags and are certified by the government, so maybe it’s a much more impressive job than that. Though with the clients and addressees all having disappeared from this world, it’s probably a much harder one as well.