Bonus Short Stories

The Expectations of the Gods

“And just why did you decide to come down all of a sudden, anyway?!”

Mochizuki Karen, the god of love, and Touya’s self-proclaimed sister, yelled out in irritation. Sitting next to her was the god of swords, Mochizuki Moroha, another self-proclaimed sister of his. They were in the middle of a tea party on the balcony of Brunhild’s castle.

“You’re the god of love, Sister, you get to dabble in mortal affairs all you like. I actually want to see new places once in a while, you know?”

“Hush now, I’m not the god of love, y’know? I’m just your sister!”

“Mhm... That you are...”

Moroha gave a casual reply as she sipped her tea.

“I am actually doing work here, y’know? I was ordered from God Almighty to fetch a rogue Servile God.”

“Work? You certainly don’t seem to be doing any.”

“Ugh...”

Moroha’s commentary was justified. Ever since the Pruning had ended, all Karen had done was nap, eat, tease Touya, butt into people’s love lives, and wander about aimlessly.

“Well, I suppose you can’t really do anything until the target reveals itself.”

“Th-That’s right! There’s no need for impatience! I’m just biding my time, y’know?” The god of love clasped her hands together, evidently with renewed vigor.

“It seems to me, Sister, that you’re using this job as an excuse to enjoy the many pleasures of the mortal world.”

“Well... It’s a rare opportunity, y’know? You never know what might happen.”

“Oh, I agree... I’ve come down to support you, haven’t I? Therefore I shall follow your example.” Moroha flashed a coy grin.

“Heheh... You’re quite the bad girl, Moroha.”

“Heheh... Not quite as bad as my sister.”

The two goddesses laughed together, unaware of the faraway person peering in on their conversation.

“Goodness... Just what are they up to now...?” An old man was sat at his table. He was slowly drinking tea, snapping off a few rice crackers for good measure. On the screen of his retro, CRT television, was the image of the two girls.

“Hoho... Well, I suppose the two of them are due a vacation, so this is just fine.”

“No fair! No faiiir! Lemme go! Lemme go too! I wanna get all boozed up on the mortal plane!”

The babbling young woman with her cheek slumped against the table was the god of liquor. To the right of her was a young man strumming on a harp, the god of music, who nodded.

“Well, World God? Would you let us foray into the ground world as well?” A green-haired girl with a ponytail spoke up. She was the god of the hunt.

“Well... we all have duties for the time being, but... I might have thought of something.”

“What’s the plan, my man?” A middle-aged looking man spoke up. He was the god of agriculture.

“When the young lad awakens to the power of a god and becomes more aware of my plan for him... he will need someone to instruct and guide him in the right direction.”

“Definitely true. You can’t expect two lower-level gods like Sword and Love to teach him about his proper role.” The god of agriculture nodded.

“So, when the time comes... how about a group excursion to the mortal realm?”

“Aha, I see... Sounds good.”

The god of liquor and the god of the hunt looked at each other with a grin. The god of music played an excited little ditty on his harp.

“But before that, we have duties to attend to. If they are not accomplished before his awakening, then you cannot come with us.”

As God Almighty spoke, the four there listened intently. If they worked hard, they’d soon be able to play hard.

“Goodness me, what an interesting turn of events...”

The old man sipped his tea once more as he changed the channel. Depicted on the screen now was a young boy he very much considered to be a grandson. A mistake he made and sent to another world. But perhaps, someday, something much more.

Author Story: Honest Words Can Make Time Stand Still

It happened when I was visiting my grandmother on my father’s side. Thoroughly bored and without anything else to do, I decided to go for a walk around town. I went here and there without any destination in mind, checking out any second-hand shops and looking for anything that might pique my interest. After buying several books I figured I could use to kill time, right when I began considering where else to go, I became somewhat hungry. This made me slightly regret going for a walk before lunch.

I looked at my smartphone’s map app to find a place to eat and found a conveyor belt sushi restaurant, but it was a considerable distance away from me. Still, I didn’t feel like going back, so I walked toward it. However, on the way over, I saw a ramen shop. In all honesty, it didn’t look too attractive, nor did it seem the least bit popular. But at that particular moment, I really felt like eating some ramen. That happens, you know?

Anyway, I casually walked inside and saw just about what its outside appearance would have you expect. The inside was almost completely barren. The only customers there were just an old man at the counter and a father-son pair at the table behind him, making up a grand total of three. I sat two seats away from the old man at the counter and ordered miso ramen, a highly inoffensive choice. Behind me, I could hear the sound of the father-son pair slurping on their ramen. The inside of the establishment was gloomy and dark, adding to my impression that it wasn’t popular. I could see the shopkeeper of the place, a man probably in his sixties, make the ramen I ordered. Perhaps it was just the overall state of the shop shaping my preconceptions, but as strange as it was, I didn’t think he was any good at it.

Did he mess up? I thought as he finally brought some hot and sour noodle soup to the old man at my side and my miso ramen to me. I dug right in and sipped some of the soup in my ramen and man, was it salty! Then, I slurped some noodles and found they were on the hard side. It felt like some strange al dente, rather than ramen, and to be frank, it wasn’t very good. The shopkeeper had definitely messed up. Still, it wasn’t completely inedible, so I curbed my opinions about it and continued slurping. Taste came second. My only real goal was to fill my stomach. That was when I heard the father-son duo have a little exchange.

“What’s wrong...? No, keep eating. You’re not supposed to leave any food.” The father said.

Apparently he was scolding his son for not eating his ramen. In response, the boy spoke nothing but his most honest thoughts.

“But Dad, it’s so bad that I can’t eat it.”

At that moment, I felt like I understood what it meant for time to stand still. Those words resounded loud and clear throughout the silent shop. Both me and the old man stopped eating and turned around to see the father looking thoroughly panicked. Seriously, the poor man was completely out of it.

“A-Ah, oh, so you’re full! Th-Then I’ll have the rest!” He forced himself to say.

He took his son’s cup in hand and began slurping the ramen. I could almost hear his desperation in the sound. Once done, the father quickly paid for their food, took his son, and rushed out of the shop. I glanced over the counter and saw the shopkeeper making the most heartbreaking grimace. Unable to bear it, I quickly ate the noodles, left the unbearably salty soup behind, and walked out of the shop.

There was not a hint of malice in that boy’s words. He had just responded to his father as honestly as he could. It was then that I came to understand that mere words had the power to kill. When I passed through the same road a year later, the ramen shop was closed, and I couldn’t help but assume that the incident with the boy was the cause.