Chapter Two: More Like HARMOR!

Rest days meant taking it easy on both my body and my mind. I might have been a teenaged former home security guard, but I did teach at my school on a regular basis, plus I had my job as Amutech’s General Manager to deal with, and all of that could make a person tired after a while. No matter how sweet it looked like I had it, this was legitimate work I was doing.

So I usually spent my days off checking out the newest anime, manga, and games, no rush, just taking them in. But today, I wasn’t in the mood.

“Siiiiiighhhhh...”

Through the window I could see a gorgeous blue sky, not a cloud in sight. It was the sort of weather that would normally energize me just looking at it, but the way I was feeling at that moment, it made me want to shake my fist at the sky and shout, “Are you mocking me?!”

“What am I gonna do...?” I moaned, rolling from side to side in my bed.

Myusel. Petralka. Elvia.

All of them cute. Extremely cute. Wildly, wickedly, out-of-this-world cute.

Honestly, all of these girls were way out of my league: me, Kanou Shinichi, whose “specs” as a human being were absolutely, completely average, or even below average. Normally, if you told me I’d won the affections of girls like these, I would have been skipping for joy.

No, the real problem was that I’d won them all at once.

“Gaaahh...”

They say every dog has his day, and every guy has his moteki, his moment in the sun, but who knew it could come on so suddenly? And who knew it could be such a headache? I sure didn’t. I apologize for all the times I thought, Explode, you damn Real! (I mean, not that I really knew for sure if I was a Real right then or not.)

I kept wondering if maybe I should go the harem route, even if people did call me monstrous or pathetic. But every time I had that thought, I remembered the nightmare from the other day. And then I added Elvia to it. Oof.

Those were the thoughts going through my head when a voice all but burst through the door.

“Shinichi! Are you there?!”

“Heek?!” I sat up in a hurry. “Wh-Wha? Petralka?!”

“Indeed. A ‘Yes, I am here’ would have sufficed.”

“Er—Uh—”

“Hmm! As ever, your room is rife with interesting things, Shinichi!”

“B-B-But why?!”

Without so much as a knock she strode into my room, examining the manga, figures, and everything else around: Petralka, the Empress. I could only sit there in shock.

This wasn’t the first time she had barged into my room, but all the others had been back before the room had a “lock” on it. A lot had happened (including a good deal I didn’t want to remember), and now every room in the mansion had a magical lock. I’d thought mine had been set. The locks activated automatically, so I didn’t even give them much thought. Doors either had to be opened from the inside, or you had to have the key. Or so I’d—

“Oh...”

Standing there in the still-open doorway, I caught sight of a fidgety Myusel. She was holding a card-like piece of gold, most likely the backup key she had been entrusted with. She had copies of all of our keys, in case ours got lost or destroyed. I figured Petralka had coerced her into opening my door. They might have been fighting over me (or something, I guess, so to speak), but when the Empress commanded, a common maid like Myusel had no choice but to obey.

“Wh-What’s going on? Why are you here?” I asked. I unconsciously grabbed a comb and ran it through my hair.

Uggghhh! I look disgusting even by my standards...!

Until very recently, I had been virtually indifferent to my appearance. But in front of a girl who was (at least with a very high degree of probability) in love with me, I would have liked to have looked just the slightest bit more impressive. I mean, golly gee, after all, I am a boy! (Sorry, I know it sounds kind of creepy to have to say it myself.) I quickly tried to straighten my shirt, which unfortunately was thoroughly rumpled from my tossing and turning on the bed until just a moment ago. All of this was almost unconscious, a reflex reaction.

“Is there some kind of emergency?” I asked, and Petralka’s lovely eyebrows drew together. I could almost see the “Grrr...” sound effect behind her. She covered the distance to my bed in a few quick strides, put her hands on her hips, and glared at me.

“Are you saying we cannot come simply to see your face?!” Her cheeks were flushed red. She had pale skin to begin with, so a blush really stood out.

Er, but getting back to the point...

“Huh...?” It took me a moment to grasp what she was saying. Then I felt my own face get hot in a hurry. I guess she was telling me that she’d come here for no other reason than to see me. Plus, Petralka had sounded angry, but then she looked away from me, almost like she was embarrassed. Arrrgh, it’s so cute! It’s mucho cute-o, Your Majesty! (See? She’s so kawaii that I’m mangling foreign languages to say it!) All by itself, it was enough to leave my heart on the verge of overheating.

And at that moment...

“U-Um!”

Myusel, sounding a bit distressed, came into the room. That snapped me out of my raptures about Petralka’s adorability.

“Myusel?” I said.

“Um, well...”

She had come into the room, yes, but then she immediately stopped, and didn’t say anything else. Or maybe she couldn’t. She looked weak and vulnerable, watching us from a distance with an expression like she might burst into tears at any moment. She wanted to object, that was the vibe I got. The hand she put to her chest, as if to steady herself, seemed at once so strong and so fragile.

Just having those big, watery eyes turned on me is so ahhhhhh!

This was bad. Anything more and this would be very bad. My heart wouldn’t be able to stand it. I would keel over. Die. Check out, shuffle off this mortal coil. Shinichi has left the building!

Then there came something that only pushed me closer to the edge.

“Shinichi-sama!” A third person came bounding up to the open door. Needless to say, it was Elvia. “I drew this picture of ya, Shinichi-sama! I wanted t’ show.................................................?”

She flounced into the room, with a big smile on her face and her tail wagging so fast I thought it might fly off. Then, for the first time, she registered the situation: Myusel standing some distance from the bed, Petralka standing right beside the bed, and me sitting on the bed. She looked at each of us. The girls’ eyes all met. Nobody said anything.

Was it just me, or was there an instant where it felt like they might all kill each other? It had to be my imagination. Had to. Probably. I’m sure it was. Because if it wasn’t, that would be awful.

An unpleasant silence pervaded the room. At last, Petralka spoke.

“Pardon us, but Shinichi is busy entertaining us.” She looked at me. “Aren’t you, Shinichi?”

“Huh? I mean, not really—”

“Sometimes I wish y’d give me your full attention for once, Shinichi-sama!”

“Er...”

“U-Um, Shinichi-sama...”

First Elvia, then even Myusel (with obvious hesitation) lined up beside Petralka by the bed.

“I w-w-was thinking,” Myusel said, “it’s been so long since, uh, I asked you to h-help me with my Ja-panese...” Her unique, pointy half-elf ears peeked out from beneath her flaxen twin-tails. Normally pale enough to compete with Petralka, right now they were so flushed it looked like she had a fever. “I d-don’t suppose you could...?”

“I could, er, but...”

I could never refuse a request from Myusel. But:

“Shinichi-sama! You gotta look at my picture first! I think I did a great job, don’t you?!”

“Both of you get to live in this house with Shinichi! Cede his attentions to us for one day!”

“Yeah, but I don’t get to go t’ school! I can only see Shinichi-sama when he’s around the house!”

Suddenly, Petralka and Elvia were arguing, and it felt like the strangest sight I had ever seen. A former Bahairamanian spy like Elvia would, you might think, know better than to get in a fight with the empress of the country she had been spying on. I wondered if Hikaru-san was somehow behind this. I could hear him now: “When it comes to love, status and social position have nothing to do with anything.” And I could see Elvia taking him completely at his word.

Petralka being who she was, she seemed committed to fighting for me fair and square, rather than using her immense authority to elbow Myusel aside. At the very least, she’d implied as much to Myusel. I wondered if the same thing went for Elvia. That would make her one upstanding young lady. I wondered if that was the sort of thing empresses were taught as rulers.

“Oh, b-by the way, Petralka...”

“Hrm? What is it, Shinichi?”

“Is it, uh, okay for you to be here? I mean, have you told Garius-san?” I was afraid she would get in trouble again if she had left the castle without permission.

“That will not be a problem,” she replied.

“Really?”

“Garius and Zahar are otherwise occupied with some business or other in the bowels of the castle. They will hardly notice if we step out for a few minutes.”

“I think that’s going to be a very big problem!”

“We have bodyguards! It is fine!”

“Ugh...”

Fine wasn’t the word I would have chosen.

She thought Garius wasn’t going to notice this? When Petralka referred to her bodyguards, I assumed she didn’t mean the official royal guard, but the unit of maids that sometimes protected her. They knew a smattering of combat techniques so that they could keep Petralka safe (it had certainly saved my neck back when Japan had sent a special ops squad to get me), but they still couldn’t hold a candle to a squadron of trained knights.

“C’mon, Shinichi-sama, y’ should come to my room!” Elvia grabbed my right arm like an overexcited child. I could hardly resist her werewolf’s strength, and I found myself dragged through space behind her.

“Yikes—!” Elvia was hugging my whole right arm against her body. Very, very tightly. And everything above my elbow was pressed right up against her—her ch-ch- her chhaaaaahhhhhhh!

S-So, so soft...! I thought in a rapture, my head lolling from side to side.

A second later, my left arm found itself ensconced in a feeling no less soft and warm—wait.

“Myusel?”

I looked over and realized Myusel was clinging to my other arm. Okay, so she wasn’t as well-endowed as Elvia, but there was no question that it was there, I mean her chest, and with my two arms sandwiched next to the girls, it was like their boobs were saying, take this! No, take this! And one of these—aaahhhh!

“...Y’ gotta let him go, Myusel.”

“I... I will not...!”

The two of them glowered at each other, still pulling on my arms.

Ow ow ow ow ow!

Elvia was tugging mercilessly, while Myusel, doing the best she could, hung off my other arm with her entire body weight—all things considered, it was pretty uncomfortable.

Argh! Whoever heeds my cries and lets go first is my real mother...!

Wait, what was this, the judgment of Solomon?

Was this... Could it be...? Was this one of those moments when you discover that war is hell...?!

I groaned, overtaken by a rapidly increasing bad feeling. But then—

“Both of you, let go of Shinichi!” Petralka shouted, her voice tinged with panic.

Elvia and Myusel both looked startled, and bolted away from me as if they had been physically struck. Petralka’s words had been, without question, an order from the Holy Eldant Empress. I’m not sure if even she herself realized how different she sounded from when she had been arguing with Elvia earlier. But at an imperial command, neither Elvia nor Myusel could do anything but obey.

Released from the girls’ grips, I let out a sigh of relief. Still, my arms longed to feel once again those chests, the touch of which they still remembered. Then again, if I’d stayed pressed up against them like that, who knows if my such-and-such might have done you-know-what right there in front of everybody—so I suppose I should be grateful to Petralka for rescuing me.

“Ah... Er... Ahem...” With Myusel and Elvia looking at her, Petralka suddenly seemed abashed. So I was right: she had instinctively adopted the tone of an empress a moment ago, but she hadn’t forgotten her own vow to battle Myusel on fair terms. She had broken the rules, really, and now she was feeling sheepish.

What a delightfully maladroit girl.

“Shinichi was in trouble, you see...”

“That will never do, Your Majesty.”

This riposte to Petralka’s would-be excuse came not from Myusel or Elvia, but from someone who had appeared in the still-open doorway: Hikaru-san. He marched into the room and crossed his arms with an elegant motion. He looked like he was ready to give the lecture of a lifetime; at the very least, you couldn’t deny the authority he radiated.

“Wh-What do you mean by that?” Petralka asked. Even she looked slightly cowed.

“Trying to gain someone’s love through such underhanded methods is wrong.”

“U-Underhanded...!” Petralka said. But she couldn’t quite muster as much indignity as she wanted—she knew she had broken the rules of engagement.

Hikaru-san, looking to twist the knife, said, “Can you even be sure it’s love, if you get it through force like that?”

Petralka almost choked.

“No! And again I say, no!” He made a sideways chopping motion as if he were trying to drop someone with a knife hand. The gesture made his meaning inescapably clear.

...Ahh. You know, I think I remember some guy in Germany a few decades ago who used to do that. The one with the little mustache?

“You must put yourself as a woman before yourself as the empress, and fight your battles fair and square!”

“Th-This is a battle?” I burst out.

“Girl talk, no boys allowed,” Hikaru-san said.

Uh, pretty sure you should excuse yourself, then, Hikaru-san.

“I can go further!” Hikaru-san exclaimed. “To obtain love by underhanded means has nothing to do with a woman’s attractiveness! In fact, it’s a veritable declaration of defeat, an admission that you can’t win on your own merits!”

“Hrm...!” Petralka grunted, somewhere between angry and mortified. She seemed to be completely taken in by Hikaru-san’s force of argument. Myusel and Elvia both stood by, looking slightly dazed.

I guess I was glad the three of them had stopped fighting, as far as it went, but seeing as it was Hikaru-san who had intervened for me, I didn’t exactly feel safe. Who knew where this might lead? I had the uneasy sense that this was all part of a plan to tweak me in a big way.

“Not to mention, trying to use power to get love like that is the very script for a character destined for defeat.”

“S-Say what?” Petralka said.

“The script. It’s a cliché! Something is bound to happen at the last minute to turn the tables on her and leave her, as we say in English, a loser.”

Since when do you speak English?!

“A... A cliché, you say...”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s the way things are. A law of the universe.”

Petralka put a hand to her cheek and considered. “H-Hrm. Well, if it is the universe’s own law, then there is nothing to be done...”

“You believe him?!” I exclaimed. But Petralka already appeared to be all but deaf to me. I felt like she was probably putting the cart before the horse in a number of ways, but she was pointing to Myusel and Elvia with a series of small nods.

“Very well. We are not the empress at this moment! We are but a woman! You shall treat us as such!”

“Y... Yes, ma’am...”

“Yes’m...!”

Myusel and Elvia both unconsciously straightened up in the face of Petralka’s imperial-sounding instructions. But as proof that they weren’t completely overwhelmed, Myusel’s fists were clenched at her sides, and Elvia’s tail stood as straight as if it had an iron rod in it.

Huh? This hasn’t resolved anything, has it!

I was starting to get very uncomfortable with the three of them staring each other down. Suddenly, Petralka tilted her head and remarked, “But what constitutes a fair fight?”

Pause from Myusel. Pause from Elvia. The two of them looked at each other.

“Umm... How do we do that?”

“Yeah, I dunno...”

Okay, hold on, you three...

Had they really been battling each other with no idea of what they were actually doing?

But I was afraid that if I made some careless quip like that, the result would be “Then let us have another bento competition,” or “The one who jumps Shinichi first is the winner,” so I decided to keep my peace.

Maybe I wasn’t the only one learning that war was hell.

“Well... uh, how ’bout soccer, then?”

“That would hardly be a contest!” Petralka stamped her foot.

Well, she wasn’t wrong.

“Cooking, then?”

This time it was Elvia who objected: “Y’d win that hands down, Myusel!”

True. Considering how her beast-person palate differed from mine, Elvia would be at a disadvantage in a cooking contest. Plus, Myusel cooked every day; she was practically a pro. Elvia, at least, would have no hope against her.

It was almost too obvious to mention, but the three of them were different people with different talents. Those different capabilities, combined with varying levels of experience, made anything that might be influenced by those abilities inherently unfair.

“It’s really very simple,” said... surprisingly, not Hikaru-san.

This voice...

“Hoo hoo hoo! Trouble with love? Trust a very experienced grown woman!” It was Minori-san, sounding full of confidence. I guess she must have heard the commotion. That was all well and good, but didn’t she seem a little... different somehow? For that matter, hadn’t Minori-san said herself that she was a very single woman whose years without a boyfriend were exactly equal to her lifespan? Again, I was too afraid of the possible consequences to actually voice any of this.

“You each want to shoot an arrow through Shinichi-kun’s heart, right?”

“Yes, of course...” Petralka said. I wasn’t sure she realized she had effectively just confessed to me.

“Then all you need to know is which of you Shinichi-kun is most moe for.”

“Hang on, Minori-san, I don’t know about that—”

Should we really be treating “character moe” and love as if they were the same thing? I mean, it was true, you could feel a sort of faux love toward a character, but...

“So, Shinichi-kun. Who are you most moe for?” Minori-san asked, and Myusel, Petralka, and Elvia all looked directly at me. Faced with three highly expectant gazes, I nearly crumbled.

“If... If I knew that, I wouldn’t be so worried, would I?!”

“A man needs to be clear about his feelings!”

“The whole problem is that I can’t choose!” I wailed, and Minori-san and Hikaru-san both sighed.

“If you really don’t know,” Hikaru-san said, “then until you do, we’ll need a judge—a completely impartial one.”

“Huh...?” What was he talking about?

It looked like I wasn’t the only one who didn’t get it; everyone else was looking at Hikaru-san’s beaming face, too. He held up a single finger and said: “We have to make the moe visible.”

My vision was dark. I mean, of course it was—I had a black cloth tied over my eyes.

“Ummm......”

I certainly couldn’t take it off: my hands were tied to the arms of the chair with belts or something. My feet were likewise strapped to the chair’s legs. Maybe I could try to stand up, but I figured the chair wouldn’t be happy about it. Blinded and unable to move, about the only way I had of figuring out what was going on around me was to listen very carefully.

What was going to happen to me? I had no idea. To be honest, I was extremely concerned.

Suddenly, I heard Myusel’s voice, right nearby: “Um... What’s this?”

“Hoo hoo. Let me show you how to use it,” came Hikaru-san’s voice. And then—

“Heek?!” I yelped a little as somebody blew into my ear.

“There... See?”

No, no I don’t see!

As I sat there flummoxed, the blindfold was suddenly pulled off, and my world went white.

“Wh-What the heck’s wrong with you?!” My eyes, accustomed to the darkness, burned in the light of the room. I squinted, and a second later my vision went back to normal. I saw a circle of girls (and one guy dressed like a girl) surrounding me. Myusel, Petralka, Elvia, Minori-san, and Hikaru-san.

I looked past them at the room we were in. Furniture and decorations were at a minimum. The desk, though, looked like a tornado had come through: a sewing machine, scraps of fabric, beads... I realized immediately whose room we were in. Hikaru-san’s. They had brought me to Hikaru-san’s room.

After his incomprehensible proclamation about “visualizing moe,” Hikaru-san had blindfolded me and pulled me by the hand before sitting me in this chair and strapping me down.

“What the heck?!”

I knew he had strapped me down, yes, but now I saw that those weren’t just belts holding me to the chair. They had cords coming out of them, which ran to a laptop computer on the nearby desk.

“It’s a lie detector,” Hikaru-san said with a bright smile.

Excuse me?!

Hikaru-san spun the laptop around on the desk so I could see the screen. There was a graph with jagged lines, like an EKG, constantly updating itself, while beside it a bar graph moved sporadically up and down. They were obviously measuring in real time.

But what were they measuring? It was probably my pulse, or my blood pressure, or my body temperature, or the amount of sweat I was currently soaked with. As you probably know, a lie detector isn’t an automatic ticket to reading another person’s mind. It works on the tiny variations, the physical tics, that occur when a person knowingly tells a lie and feels guilty about it. The tells show up as changes in pulse, blood pressure, and the other things I just mentioned. A lie detector simply, well, detects them.

“But why?!”

“Just to make sure you’re being honest,” Hikaru-san said with no trace of malice. “I have some truth serum, too, but it might cripple you, so...”

“That’s not truth serum, then! Why the heck do you even have something like that?!”

“The lie detector I borrowed from the JSDF garrison’s medical division. It was made for medical examinations, but with the right software, it makes a perfectly serviceable lie detector.”

Okay, yes, a medical exam also involved measuring your pulse and blood pressure and all that other stuff! But making a lie detector machine out of it? That wasn’t, like, just a convenient life hack. It wasn’t like saying, “Oh, we had leftovers from dinner, so I made a nice lunch for you.” Was it?!

“Was the blindfold really necessary?! And the bindings?” Were those for some kind of fetish Hikaru-san had? Tell me they weren’t for a fetish!

“If I told you I was going to hook you up to a lie detector, would you have gone along with it?”

“Like hell!”

“Well, there you go. I just did what I had to do.” Hikaru-san shrugged. “And since you’re so wishy-washy, I had to make them good and tight so you couldn’t run away when the time came to make a choice.” He seemed extremely amused by all this.

Are we sure this isn’t a fetish of his?!

“So Ja-pan even has such things as these...” Petralka studied everything from my bindings to the cords to the laptop. Just behind her, Myusel and Elvia were looking from me to Hikaru-san and back uneasily.

“You saw the reaction when I blew into Shinichi-san’s ear a moment ago, right?” Hikaru-san asked, turning to them. “When a person is agitated, it shows up in their breathing and heart rate, or sometimes perspiration, even if you can’t see it on their face. And when you’re trying to lie while you’re under interrogation, it’s very easy to get agitated—meaning we get nice, big reactions.”

“Hrm...?” Petralka grunted. She didn’t seem to quite understand how the lie detector worked.

“Okay, example. Shinichi-san?” Hikaru-san turned to me with a grin. “You like to look at Minori-san’s boobs, don’t you?”

“...Huh?”

“You adore big boobs, right? And you’ll steal a glance at Minori-san’s chest anytime you get a chance, won’t you? If she’d let you, you would love to bury your face in that deep valley, wouldn’t you?”

“I—I wouldn’t—”

“See?” Hikaru-san pointed at the screen. Several of the readouts were going nuts—clear evidence that I was, as he put it, agitated. The words LIE DETECTED conveniently flashed on the screen.

What the heck kind of software was this?! Had Hikaru-san written it himself?

“He’s lying.”

“Hold on just a—!”

Behind Hikaru-san, who was smiling innocently, Minori-san was fixing me with a death glare. She had her arms crossed—a little high, as if to protect her ample bosom from my view.

“Wh-What guy doesn’t look sometimes?!”

“Unrepentant!” Minori-san snapped. “’Course, it’s not like your harassing ways are anything new...”

“Th-That’s awful...! Besides, you can’t measure what’s in a person’s heart with a machine!” I protested, like the protagonist of some anime.

Lie detectors weren’t infallible. People to whom lying came as naturally as breathing didn’t experience perspiration or increased heart rate when they said something untrue.

“We aren’t trying to read your heart,” Hikaru-san replied flatly. “We’re just trying to read your body’s reactions.”

“Hrk...?”

“The mouth can say what it likes, but the body never lies.”

“Hrrrrk...” There wasn’t much I could say to that.

“So we’re gonna interrogate Shinichi-kun while he’s hooked up to this thing?” Minori-san asked.

“Yep. This is what I meant by visualizing moe.”

“Makes sense!” She nodded, impressed.

I looked at Myusel in hopes that she would catch my subliminal cry for someone to help me—but she was looking at the laptop screen hopefully. This was no good. No one was going to stop him.

“All right, let’s get started.” Hikaru-san cleared his throat and turned to me. “Shinichi-san, who do you like best?”

I didn’t speak.

“Myusel?”

Didn’t say anything.

“Her Majesty—or should I say, Petralka?”

Not a word.

“Or is it Elvia?”

Uh-uh, not biting.

Hikaru-san’s questions were relentless. But the whole problem was that even with him pelting me with names, I really couldn’t pick one. As I stayed silent, Hikaru-san and Minori-san looked at the computer screen, but—

“His reaction is the same to all of them,” Minori-san observed.

“But they all say LIE DETECTED,” Myusel said fretfully.

“Oh, that just shows that Shinichi-san is agitated. But this is a problem. I thought for sure saying the names one by one and observing his reactions would show who he was the most moe for...”

“I’m actually sort of amazed by how completely identical his reactions were,” Minori-san said.

“That’s just another way of saying I’m completely fair and evenhanded, right?!” I almost wailed, feeling Myusel and the others looking hard at me.

“We’re going to need a stronger stimulus.”

Hikaru-san was starting to sound like a mad scientist.

“Stimulus...?”

“Whatcha gonna do to him?” Elvia asked.

“If you’ve got some kind of skinship test in mind, I think Elvia has an unfair advantage,” Minori-san observed. She was mature enough to politely refrain from putting it the opposite way: that Petralka was at a disadvantage.

“I agree, that would be unfair... Okay, no physical contact. Visual and auditory stimulation only, then. Right. Maybe we put everyone in outfits Shinichi-san would appreciate, and see who he has the strongest reaction to. How about that?”

“Not a bad idea,” Minori-san said. She nodded, but then tilted her head thoughtfully. “But what kind of outfit does Shinichi-kun like? The strike zone for an otaku as serious as him is a bit too big. And his personal collection of manga and doujinshi is too varied to really give us a hint...”

“Hey, hey! When did you ever see my personal collection, Minori-san?!”

“All our luggage came over together. I had to check the manifest to make sure we weren’t missing anything.”

“B-But you didn’t have to look so close!”

I was an otaku and everyone knew it, but when it came to my doujinshi—well, I had some that weren’t in the best of taste, and I was a bit embarrassed to think a girl had seen them.

“Oh! Come to think of it...” Myusel blinked as if something had just occurred to her.

“What is it, Myusel?”

“Nothing... I just remembered something...”

“If you’ve got any ideas, by all means, share them,” Minori-san said.

Encouraged, Myusel nodded. “Shinichi-sama told me once that a girl instantly becomes more attractive when she puts on a maid uniform...”

“Shinichi-san said that, Myusel? To you?” Hikaru-san was positively gleeful.

Why did he look so triumphant?!

“Wh-What’s wrong with that?! Maid moe is my calling! As a general rule, I—”

“But to say it to a girl actually wearing a maid uniform? I don’t know...”

“You know, I seem to remember Shinichi-kun couldn’t take his eyes off me when I had to wear a maid outfit once,” Minori-san mused.

“Don’t look at me like that! Don’t look at me like thaaaat!!” I wanted to grab my head, but my hands were still lashed to the chair, and all I could do was writhe uncomfortably in my seat. “Yeah, okay, I like maid uniforms, but so what! Maid-sans are great!” I was on the brink of despair.

“Shinichi-sama...” Myusel looked heartened.

Petralka, for her part, had clearly put the pieces together. “What you are saying is that we and Elvia need only dress like Myusel, is that it?!”

“B-But who wouldn’t want to hug a petite girl in a dress and a tiara?! And a tube top that shows a girl’s midriff? It’s a perfect blend of outgoing and sexy, right?!” I was speaking from the bottom of my heart, but I was met with a long silence and everyone sharing a collective look.

“You mean you like Myusel’s outfit, and Her Majesty’s outfit, and Elvia’s outfit,” Minori-san finally said, exasperated, and I nodded vehemently.

“How could I not?!”

“He’s telling the truth,” Hikaru-san said, sounding equally annoyed, as he looked at the laptop screen. “Or more accurately, his numbers are through the roof, and it’s impossible to tell one girl from another.”

“This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

“Maybe if we had them all swap outfits?”

Myusel and the others all nodded: no objections. Then, in a no-time-like-the-present move, they all made to take off their clothes.

Hwhoooaaa!!

“Just a second, Shinichi-kun.”

“What?! You can’t!”

But despite my objections, the blindfold went back on, and I lost my chance to see them changing. It wasn’t like they were stripping naked—what was the problem? But then again, when I thought about it, I realized I didn’t know what Elvia wore under her tube top, if it was anything at all; and I’d heard noble women didn’t necessarily wear anything under their outfits, so there was a chance Petralka didn’t, either... Maybe the blindfold was for the best.

Still, robbed of my eyesight, I found myself focusing everything I had into my hearing. Every rustle of cloth seemed to come to me, and it was strangely erotic.

At last...

“Sorry for the wait, Shinichi-kun,” Minori-san said, taking the blindfold off again. The sight that greeted my eyes was—

“U-Um, ahem...”

Myusel, wearing Petralka’s clothes and blushing very hard.

“Whoa...”

Normally, I only ever saw Myusel in her maid uniform, or in the simple dress she wore when she went out, so the royal garments, flashing with gold and silver everywhere you looked, appeared fresh and new on her. But what really drew my attention was:

“I guess... it is a little small... for me...”

Yes: Petralka was petite. Besides which (although it would have been courting death to say so in front of her) she was as flat as a prepubescent girl. And needless to say, her clothing had been made to measure. Sooooo...

Myusel shifted this way and that, trying to hold down the hem of the dress, which threatened to reveal not just her thighs but really, even her underwear. Half of her very soft-looking chest seemed about to spill out too, practically begging to escape.

Sexy! It was so darned sexy you’d think she was doing it on purpose!

The whole perspective—the way everything teased you, but was never quite visible—it was like a pulsing wellspring for the imagination...! And what was more—

“Y- You’re not th’ only one who doesn’t quite fit...”

Beside Myusel stood Elvia, wearing Myusel’s maid uniform. She looked a little uncomfortable, maybe because she wasn’t used to wearing a skirt. On top of that, when Elvia complained that it “didn’t quite fit,” she wasn’t talking about the hem of the dress...

Myusel’s uniform was designed to expose the shoulders; in fact, it was pretty revealing, and now it seemed even more so—particularly the chest, which looked stretched about as far as it could go. It didn’t seem like it was going to spill out; if Elvia had taken her hand away, it would have burst out for all the world to see. The chest of the uniform looked like it might tear in half.

“We have had quite enough of complaints about ‘small’!”

I was distracted from glancing hopefully at Elvia’s chest by Petralka’s slightly desperate interjection. There was the empress, apparently trying to hide herself behind Myusel and Elvia. If Myusel was wearing Petralka’s clothes, and Elvia was wearing Myusel’s clothes, then Petralka, by process of elimination, had to be wearing Elvia’s clothes. And that meant...

“Wh-What kind of clothes are these? We do not believe they can even be called clothes!” She looked at the end of her rope.

The size? Not a good fit, naturally. But seeing Petralka stand there, bright red as she struggled to keep the tube top and pants from falling down, was darned adorable, like a kid who had gotten into her mom’s closet. And you know what? Kind of sexy, too. Her delicate shoulders, pale stomach, and slim thighs and calves were all on full display. She was desperately using her hands to keep her front covered, but her back and even her butt were exposed by the way the clothes were practically falling down. She might as well have been naked.

“Oh...” Forgetting to pry my eyes away from Petralka’s figure, I noticed something where the pants were slipping off her rear end. A complicated pattern on her skin, almost like a tattoo. It was close to the color of her flesh, so it wasn’t very obvious, but with the rest of her flushed red, it stood out.

That had to be the magical crest that was supposed to reflect any offensive spell that was used on her. Empresses were a popular target for assassinations, and she told me once that she had the tattoo to help keep her safe.

“They are too real clothes!” Elvia objected. I’d seen her older sister Amatena, and Amatena’s subordinate Clara, wearing their civilian clothes before—it seemed like in Bahairam, where temperatures tended to be warmer, it was common for outfits to be more revealing.

“We do not think so! We may as well be nak—”

Her finger must have slipped, because at that moment, the tube top and the pants went sliding down Petralka’s thin body.

Someone almost choked. Was it me, or her?

Her delicate, willowy body, white as snow, was revealed. She was wearing some underwear on her lower half, I discovered, but there was nothing to hide the top. I know she looked totally flat with clothes on, but she was a girl, and now I could see the smallest of swells, topped by those sweet, cherry-pink—

“We’ve got a reading!” Hikaru-san sounded like a radar operator watching for enemy vessels. “Shinichi-san is excited looking at Her Majesty!”

“H-How could I not beeeee?!” I wrenched my eyes away from Petralka and wailed. What was he so surprised by?! I was a guy, after all!

“Is that true, Hikaru?!”

“Forget about him, Petralka, just get your clothes back!”

Don’t look so thrilled, Your Majesty! Don’t go running over to Hikaru-san to look at the computer screen! Clothes first! I’m begging you, hide yourself!

I seemed to remember a time I had accidentally wandered into the girls’ changing room when we were filming our own movie. As I recalled, Petralka hadn’t acted very embarrassed to be seen in her underwear. Maybe it was because she was so used to having servants around her as she changed—but she didn’t even seem to mind being naked. She acted a lot less concerned about having no clothes on than she did about the relative size (if you get my meaning—I’m being politic, here) of her bust and behind.

Meanwhile...

“Shinichi-sama?! Ain’tcha excited by me?!” Elvia flounced over to me, her chest heaving up and down. She bent right over into my face. Stop, wait, if you bend over like that—your chest—it’ll spill—I mean show—I mean agghhhh!

“Everyone just put your own clothes back on!” I bellowed, my head spinning so fast I could hardly tell which way was up.

“Seeing them all together like this... I must admit I’m intimidated,” Elder Zahar said, looking at the magical items sitting before us. There had, it seemed, been far more of the mind-control items lying dormant in the castle than we had realized: swords, daggers, shields, equipment, furnishings, pictures, sculptures, and more besides, all crammed in there together.

Every one of these items had a story. Some were simply the products of some mad mage, but I dare say we didn’t even know when or how most of them were made. Some might even have come from ancient times, produced by magical civilizations now lost to us.

“What’s this...?” My interest was drawn by several peculiar items sitting up against the wall. I hadn’t the foggiest idea what they were. Well, to be precise, I knew they were some form of mind-control device. But whereas many of the items took the form of weapons or mundane accessories, these looked different. They weren’t swords, bows, or spears, nor were they shaped like anything one might find around the house. If pressed, I might almost say they looked like statues, if very confusing ones.

They were... lumps. Not too large to get your arms around, and seemingly made of steel. And there were five of them.

“I am told these are suits of armor, sealed up here more than a century ago,” the witch-overseer informed me.

“Armor? These?” I was used to armor looking roughly humanoid in shape, with gloves or greaves or other pieces that would obviously fit on a human body. But here, I saw none of that. The shapes themselves seemed unsuited to anything resembling a human. Perhaps the armor had simply been folded up when it was put away here, and might unfold into more human forms—but even if so, everything about the suits was so confusing that I felt I wouldn’t know which parts of the armor corresponded to which parts of the body.

“Everything else here seems more or less comprehensible, but these...” These smelled fishy. What’s more, close inspection revealed some kind of writing on them. I couldn’t decipher what it said. Not knowing what might happen if I touched the armor, I resisted the urge to feel out the characters, or to try to wipe away some of the dust. “How in the world is it used?”

“I’m afraid the details of their workings and use are, at the moment, unclear to us...” The witch trailed off apologetically. “However, the records allege that this is cursed armor that once destroyed an entire town.”

“Terrible...”

The ability to wipe out an entire town, even if one supposed it had not been a very large one, was nothing to sneeze at. Of course, stories could easily attach themselves to artifacts this old, myths and tales that shouldn’t be believed at face value. But I took it as a reminder not to act carelessly with something so potentially dangerous. Some of these items could control a person merely by existing.

“Lauron,” I said.

“Yes, sir, the puppeteer girl replied in a flat tone.

“Remove these for the time being—no, return them to their boxes.”

“Return them, sir?” She seemed to wonder why we were putting them away immediately after having gone to the effort of getting them out. Perhaps it seemed to her as pointless as digging a hole only to fill it in.

“There’s someone I wish to consult with. And I need these in a form that can be easily transported to his mansion.”

“Yes, sir.” The dwarf girl nodded, still expressionless, and obediently began to pack the armor away.

Dinner was even more opulent than usual.

“Whoa...”

The number of plates and variety of dishes was staggering. The quantity alone would have left me speechless.

It was all because Petralka was still there, having sworn she wouldn’t go home until things had been settled. And with the empress around, Myusel naturally felt compelled to pull out all the stops for dinner. She might be battling the empress for my heart (wow, can’t believe I’m saying that!), but in every other respect, Petralka’s position demanded the utmost care and consideration from Myusel.

And so, in addition to the usual suspects—myself, Myusel, Elvia, Minori-san, Hikaru-san, Brooke, and Cerise-san—Petralka joined us for dinner, along with four of her maids (read: bodyguards). Dinner was going to be lively, to say the least.

“Good heavens...!” Petralka was looking at the plate she had just eaten from, her hand shaking.

“Your Majesty?!” one of her maids exclaimed.

“I knew I should have tasted it for poison...!” another said. But Petralka seemed more annoyed than anything by their chatter.

“Let us eat in peace! But good heavens, this flavor...”

“You mean ‘Talk about a rich taste without the richness overwhelming the rest of the flavor profile’?”

“Mm, ‘a deep flavor but with an edge...’ No, that is not what we meant!” Petralka reflexively picked up my otaku-ish quote, but quickly backpedaled. “Yes, it is indeed delicious, but we have a different question. Is this not... you know, that thing we ate in Ja-pan?”

“Huh? Oh—Oh! Yakiniku?” I said, referring to a Japanese style of grilled meat.

“Yes, that!” Petralka said, leveling an excited finger at me. She had just eaten a small-cut piece of meat. Eldant cooking tended to favor simple preparations, with just a light dusting of salt and spices before cooking, but this had been marinated. Come to think of it, back when we’d had dinner at my house, Petralka had seemed uncommonly impressed by simple yakiniku. I guess she didn’t taste a lot of rich flavors like that, and it was still novel for her. Plus, as the conversation with her maids made clear, Petralka normally only got to eat after a taster had checked her food for poison—which maybe meant she had limited experience with warm, freshly cooked food. She was just like the daimyo in The Sanma of Meguro.

“Did you indeed make this, Myusel?” Petralka asked, her eyes wide.

Myusel stopped eating for a moment. She looked embarrassed to be complimented. “Y-Yes, ma’am. Oh, but I had help from Cerise-san...” She looked over at our other maid—Cerise.

Specifically, Cerise Darwin. Wife of Brooke Darwin, our gardener. Neither of them was, well, human. Both came from a tribe of demi-humans called lizardmen, and they really did look like bipedal reptiles. When I first met them, something about them (maybe it was the scales) made it hard to read their expressions. Sometimes they had even freaked me out, and I had worried that I might not ever really get to know them, but now we had all largely come to understand each other, and I was even getting more adept at reading their faces.

“No, we are referring to the additional flavor. Did you not add it yourself?”

“That’s true. Just as you suppose, Your Majesty, it was my humble attempt to re-create the ‘yaki-niku’ spices I received at Shinichi-sama’s house. Several of the ingredients were hard to obtain, so I had to use local substitutes...”

“Goodness...” Petralka said, maybe more impressed than she needed to be.

Needless to say, there was no such thing as “yakiniku sauce” here. So if you didn’t specifically import it, then you would have to try to get together a similar set of herbs and spices to get a similar flavor. Come to think of it, hadn’t I heard that pepper was worth more than gold in Middle-Ages Europe? A surprisingly large number of spices, be it chili oil or soy sauce, had unique flavors.

“You must have exerted yourself considerably. And not on this dish alone...”

“Actually, I was preparing dinner before you arrived, Your Majesty, so that one didn’t take all that much effort.”

Well, I guess it was just a matter of grilling it, although you had to keep an eye on it while it was cooking.

“Yet with so many dishes, to have them all come out warm...”

“Cerise-san was kind enough to keep an eye on the temperature of each dish,” Myusel said.

Brooke and Cerise tended to eat their vegetables and meat more or less raw—but that wasn’t the product of any kind of discrimination towards them on our part. They just preferred things that weren’t as cooked. But in any case, lizardmen had the ability to detect the infrared spectrum, similar to how what we called pit organs worked in our world. They were like nature’s infrared goggles, and lizardmen could get a sense of how hot something was just by looking at it.

“Indeed? So it was made possible with the help of your lizardman there—Cerise, is that what you said her name is? A fine display.”

“Your words honor us, Your Majesty.”

“You needn’t be so kind, Majesty...”

Myusel and Cerise both bowed. Cerise in particular was probably a little bit taken aback, for she had never heard the empress speak her name before. I didn’t think anyone else had noticed, but I saw her tail wrap gently around Brooke’s beneath the table.

Is that, like... the way humans would hold hands?

“Ahh. It is not just your ya-ki-ni-ku. It’s this—and this—! All of them imbued with the most wonderful flavors.” Petralka pulled from one novel dish after another. Her maid-guards had given up warning her about poison and had begun to eat from their own plates; by the way they kept looking at each other, I figured the flavors must have surprised them, too.

Yes, Myusel was a top-notch chef. She was so good at it that you would never have thought she was self-taught—she must have had some sort of inborn talent for taste. Did it have to do with her elvish blood? Or was it just something special about Myusel herself? I didn’t know.

“Complex though this flavor is, one does not tire of it,” Petralka remarked. “And to think, you know Shinichi’s preferences as well. Hmm. Perhaps we were mistaken to challenge you to a bento contest. In retrospect, we were wrong to have the royal chef beaten as we did.”

“Wait, what?” I could hardly believe my ears.

Beaten? I mean... Sure, you wouldn’t normally expect the castle’s own chef to be bested at cooking by a simple maid, so maybe Petralka had assumed he’d been pulling his punches. But to be ordered to make an unfamiliar thing like a “lunchbox,” to give it your best shot, and then to be beaten when you did it... I didn’t know his name or what he looked like, but I felt awfully bad for that chef. I wondered if he had even realized he had been making that bento for a contest...

“Speaking of,” I said, reminded of a question I’d had. “What brought on that sudden interest in bento boxes?”

I knew it was a trope in romance manga and anime and games and stuff for the girl to give a lunchbox to the boy she liked. A heart-pounding trope! And a lunchbox from Myusel was one thing, but for Petralka to suddenly pop up with a bento in her hands was just out of the blue. I assumed that when the empress went out to eat, she brought the ingredients, the utensils, and the chef with her, and had the meal whipped up wherever she was. I wasn’t sure she would even have thought of preparing a lunchbox and taking it with her on her own.

“Matoba said, did he not?”

There was a name I hadn’t expected to hear. What did Matoba-san have to do with this?

“He remarked that a man has three ‘bags,’ and the way to his heart is through the one in his stomach.”

“The way to— What is he, some old guy giving a toast at someone’s wedding?!”

Well, I guess whatever else he was, Matoba-san was an old dude. Still, this made it obvious that he had been coaching Petralka since before the boxed-lunch incident. I remembered how he had told me during Rubert’s visit that it was important for Amutech’s activities that I, Kanou Shinichi, secure the empress’s affections. When he found out that Petralka had feelings for me, I should have known he might try to put some ideas into her head. It would have been a lot more in-character than standing calmly by to see what happened.

“The three bags? Aw, man, haven’t heard that one in a while,” Minori-san said with a dry smile.

“Yeah, people don’t talk about that much anymore. But the old folks always throw it in their wedding toasts,” Hikaru-san said.

In Japanese, we could describe a lot of things as fukuro, bags. Like, say, the i-bukuro, the “tummy-bag,” or stomach.

“I’m trying to remember what the three bags are,” I said. “I think it was... A man’s stomach, his mother—o-fukuro—and, uhh... what was the other one?”

“Isn’t it Ikebukuro?” Minori-san volunteered.

“I thought that was just a place in Tokyo.”

“It’s a sacred place in Tokyo. Man, I wish I could go back there!” Minori-san looked longingly into the distance.

“Come on, I know it has ‘fukuro’ in it, but that’s just a coincidence!”

Stupid, rotten fujoshi brain...! Then again, considering the love triangle she’d devised between a knife, a fork, and a spoon a bit back, maybe it would be better to let her go to Ikebukuro or wherever sometimes, just to blow off some steam.

“Ah! This is the Ike-bukuro of the Otome Road, is it not? We, too, wish to see it on our next trip to Ja-pan!” Petralka said, her face glowing.

“No!” I exclaimed. “No, you don’t!”

Please, Petralka, I’m begging you! Don’t go that way!

But anyway...

“One thing’s for certain,” Hikaru-san broke in quietly. “Past or present, what’s true is true. Catching a man by the stomach is a time-honored strategy in love.”

“Fair enough, I guess.” That would explain why the o-bento was considered such a love potion. I had to admit it was true that a girl who could cook was attractive by default. But... “But the downside is then you eat too much and get fat.”

When I said that, time seemed to stop.

Or to be more precise, the munching sounds coming from Petralka, Elvia, Minori-san, and the maids stopped. For some reason, they were all looking vacantly at the utensils in their hands.

N-Now I’m scared...!

“Shinichi-san,” Hikaru-san said brightly, a smile on his face. “Which do you like better—thin girls or fat girls?”

“Huh? I—I mean, I guess if I had to choose... maybe... thin girls...?” Even I thought I sounded timid.

“Huh. Interesting. Preference for slender girls, noted.”

“Hey, look, they don’t have to be anorexically thin or whatever—I like, you know, a well-balanced body. Thin, but... rounded.”

Someone who was skin and bones? Not really the girl for me. I wanted a girl’s body to be soft. I wanted to be able to drown in the softness. That’s a man’s romantic dream. And you needed a little bit of meat on the bones for that. Gosh, this was complicated.

“Okay. Next question: What’s your girl’s ideal weight?”

“W-Weight?” I reached back in my memory and tried to recall a number I’d seen on some video game character’s stats once—you know, the sort of thing where they give you the heroine’s sizes. I didn’t actually pay a lot of attention to the numbers, so I wasn’t really sure exactly what I should say. “Uhh, I guess about 40 kilograms?”

Come to think of it, I didn’t even know how much my own little sister weighed.

“Forty... keelo-grams...”

“I—I think I saw a conversion chart somewhere before...”

I noticed Petralka, Myusel, and Elvia holding a whispered conference. Ahh. They wouldn’t know how much forty kilograms was off the tops of their heads. They probably only even knew it was a unit of weight thanks to manga or anime or whatever. They were trying to get a feel for what it would be in some local measure.

“..............................Shinichi-kun,” Minori-san said, that dry smile still on her face. “I take it you don’t know the average weight of an actual woman.”

“Sorry...?”

“Forty kilos is what a girl might weigh in, ohhh, middle school. Heck, probably even grade school.”

“Huh? But I feel like it’s pretty normal for a video game or anime character...”

“Because they only have to carry two dimensions.” Minori-san’s shoulders sagged. “So Myusel, Elvia, you can just ignore him.”

I glanced over at the girls and found them shifting uncomfortably, as if they were embarrassed. Were they suddenly feeling self-conscious? I mean, because they weighed more than forty kilos?

“And of course,” Minori-san went on consolingly, “weight varies with height, too—”

“‘A woman’s fiftieth kilo is mere self-indulgence!’” Petralka suddenly exclaimed. Something was scrawled in what appeared to be sauce on the table in front of her. Ah—she must have been trying to convert forty kilos into the local measuring system based on Myusel’s hazy recollection of the conversions. “A woman’s fiftieth kilo is mere self-indulgence! A woman’s fiftieth kilo is mere self-indulgence! It is so important, we said it twice!”

I wanted to object that she had actually said it three times, but I resisted. Petralka looked downright gleeful. We were talking about a girl so small you could mistake her for a grade-schooler. And she was slim to boot. She and she alone probably cleared that forty-kilo line. But I had a bigger concern...

“Where did you learn that expression?!”

“Hmm, where was it?” she said, tilting her head and considering.

I was sure it had to be some manga or anime or something, but anyway.

“Now! We are having a competition to be the thinnest!” Petralka proclaimed, getting to her feet.

“Just a second—you’re trying to give yourself an advantage!” I said.

At almost the same time, Elvia exclaimed, “Ain’t that unfair to the rest of us?!” She almost jumped out of her chair, causing her ears to flap and her chest to heave...

Ahh... That looks heavy... Huh? Come to think of it, hadn’t I read in some manga somewhere that by the time you reach an E cup, the two of them together weigh about a kilogram...?

Well, that aside, in a contest of slenderness—or at least body weight—Elvia would clearly be at a disadvantage. She was the tallest of the three girls, and almost certainly the most muscular.

“Bwa ha ha ha ha! There is no padding on our body!” Petralka declared, puffing her chest out and laughing like a bad villain.

P-Padding...!

I mean, I guess if you considered a large chest to be padding, then Petralka definitely had a minimum of it. By the way, they say big boobs float in water—something about the ratio of the fat content. (Something else I read somewhere.) And when fat goes to the stomach, we call it a beer belly—definitely padding.

But still, that word, padding...!

There was an audible silence. I looked over to see Myusel putting her hands to her chest and looking thoughtful.

“Is this... padding...?” she asked.

“No, definitely not!” I exclaimed before I knew what I was doing. “Anyway, you can’t have a ‘slender’ competition! You’re all different heights!” If they were going to compete, it would be unfair if they weren’t all about the same size. Unless they were planning to compare body mass indexes or something. “And besides, if boobs are considered padding, then Hikaru-san would win hands down!”

“Hmm?” That seemed to amuse Hikaru-san. “Can I be a part of the battle for your affections too, Shinichi-san?”

“Huh? Wait, what? BL? Are you talking BL?! Has he finally opened his eyes?!” Minori-san demanded.

“No! I haven’t opened anything! Hikaru-san just chooses the weirdest way to put everything!”

“You’re the one who said I would win that contest.”

And so it went. You get the idea.

“Oh, for...!”

“A woman’s fiftieth kilo is mere self-indulgence! A woman’s fiftieth kilo is mere self-indulgence!”

“Padding...”

“I’m gonna shrink myself...!”

And so ended that day’s raucous, but entirely inconclusive, dinner.

Myusel and Cerise were cleaning up after the meal. Brooke had headed outside to take care of some things in the garden. Elvia had gone running off, muttering something about body weight and shrinking. Maybe she was going to go run a marathon or something. Her boobs were pretty much the only part of her with any fat to begin with, so I wasn’t sure it would help much.

Petralka, for her part, got into her carriage with her maids, in high spirits, and went back to the castle. Maybe she thought she had “won” the slenderness contest she had unilaterally proposed at dinner. And maybe she had... by default. It seemed to have completely slipped her mind, though, that she had left the castle on her own, and that if Garius found her, she would be in for it. I knew from the time she had sneaked away to Japan that Garius knew how to get good and mad. I grinned to myself as I pictured Petralka hanging her head during Garius’s endless lecture.

I watched the carriage leave from our front door, standing there until it vanished into the distance, then I turned to go back inside.

“Well, Shinichi-kun, look who’s Mr. Popular.” Minori-san, who had been seeing Petralka off with me, leered at me. “It’s your moment! Your moteki! Aren’t you thrilled?”

“Are you seriously asking that?” I stopped and sighed.

“Aww, does this mean you’re not thrilled?”

I took a breath. “Of course I’m happy about it. How could I not be? It’s just turning out to be an awful lot of work...”

Without Myusel, Petralka, and Elvia right there in front of me, I felt a wave of fatigue. I hadn’t noticed it when I was busy feeling anxious, but now that I had a moment to catch my breath, it hit me.

“Well, I enjoyed myself.” Hikaru-san was smirking behind his hand.

“You sure did!” I exclaimed, practically on the verge of tears. Hikaru-san was almost certainly the person who had gotten the most out of that afternoon.

“And now you’ve got a nifty little square going on, how nice for you,” Hikaru-san said innocently. “Imagine how much worse it would have been if Minori-san had decided she wanted in.”

“I’m rooting for Myusel, but I’m basically a neutral spectator,” Minori-san said, brushing Hikaru-san’s suggestion aside. I knew she was a real adult—she could let that sort of thing just roll off her back. Of course, that partly spoke to how totally disinterested she was, but still. And it was just as well. If Minori-san had taken that moment to blush and whisper, “Well, actually...”, I don’t know what I would have done.

“I do think you should try to make a decision soon, though,” she said.

“Believe me, I know,” I said. I knew so well it hurt.

“I get that it’s a tough call, but wouldn’t you feel bad, making them wait too long? This isn’t modern Japan—people get married younger here.”

“That’s... I mean... Yes.” I nodded along, because she was right, but hearing the words get married was bound to give me pause. I mean, I was an otaku who had never so much as gone on a date with a girl. To suddenly think about marriage, or—God help me—kids, was almost too much to bear. “Anyway, think about... I mean, hypothetically, if I married someone over here, how would that even work, legally? Would that be considered an international marriage?”

“Good question. I don’t think Japan recognizes Eldant as a country. Heck, publicly, they don’t recognize it exists. Maybe it could be considered a common-law marriage?”

“It would be, wouldn’t iiiiiitttt...” And then, inexorably, I found myself remembering that nightmare. That had been a de facto union, hadn’t it? But while I was busy freezing my own blood with the image of Petralka and Myusel both stabbing me at the same time—

“I think there’s a lot of ways to choose,” Hikaru-san said, as if it had just occurred to him. “Looks, personality, or maybe some combination of the two. But if you try too hard to use logic to figure this out, I think you’re going to miss what’s most important. Love has a big emotional component. Say the first one to make your heart skip a beat is the winner...”

“Not sure I follow,” I said, a little bit lost by Hikaru-san’s idea.

“For example, maybe you discover that your assumptions about someone were all wrong, and at that moment, you fall in love with them. Like when you suddenly see a side of a girl or guy that you never knew was there.”

“Hmmm...”

“Okay, like, say...” Hikaru-san tilted his head and thought about it for a moment. “You’re pretty confident I’m not involved in the battle for your heart, right, Shinichi-san?”

Then he gave me a coquettish look, widening his dark eyes.

Wai—what the heck is this?! And... And just a second! Why is my heart suddenly pounding?!

“I’ve had about enough of that joke! I’m not interested in any guys, okay?!” I shouted, trying desperately to ignore the thumping in my chest. I had to remember. Had to remind myself. No matter how gorgeous he might be, no matter how well he wore that Gothic-Loli dress, Ayasaki Hikaru was well and truly a man. I had personally seen what was between his legs, so he couldn’t pull any “Actually, I’ve been a girl all along!” stuff on me!

“BL?! Is that BL I smell?! I knew I smelled BL!” Minori-san was just about ecstatic.

Ugh, I could hardly stand this anymore! What did she mean, she knew it?!

“I am so not even about BL!” I exclaimed.

“You know, there’s something I never mentioned,” Hikaru-san said, out of the blue. “I have an identical twin. But she’s a girl.”

“Wha...?”

Wh-What was this about an identical twin? A matching guy and girl pair? That was the stupidest, most chuunibyou thing I’d ever—but it would be just like Hikaru-san to have a—whaaaaaa?!

“We trade places sometimes. You’ve never even noticed, have you, Shinichi-san?” Then Hikaru-san smiled teasingly.

It was true: the way he (??) tilted his head like that looked awfully girlish, seriously sweet, downright devilish. The luxurious black hair, the pale, delicate neck. I had to admit it was all sort of starting to turn me on...!

Okay, wait... So the Hikaru-san I was looking at right now, right here in front of me... Could it be...

“Are you r-r-really...?”

“Oh, no, I made it all up.”

“You what?!”

I mean, I was relieved to hear that, but—!

“Identical twins are identical. They’re usually the same gender.”

“Oh... Now that you mention it.” I guess he was right.

“But I’ll bet you felt your heart pound, didn’t you?” Hikaru-san’s lips twisted into a nasty little smile. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

All right, okay. I got it now. I got it much better than I had ever wanted to.

“I see what you mean,” Minori-san said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “It’s like when you find out that punk you thought was way scary is actually a total softy, and you’re so shocked by the difference that you fall in love with him. Right?”

“Yeah, more or less.” Hikaru-san nodded.

“But, look... You can tell me how it’s not logical, but that just makes it even harder to know what to do.”

“It’s not logical. You have to feel.”

“Gee, you sound like a regular guru, but it’s not helping.”

I was seriously, completely lost. I could only heave a long, long sigh as I turned to go back inside.

I knocked twice, then waited. I didn’t have to wait long. There was surprise on the face that greeted me. Or at least, I thought there was. I was hesitant to be too sure, because their expressions could still be difficult for me to read. Unfamiliar emotions especially could present in unexpected ways, making deciphering them difficult.

“Somethin’ the matter, Master?” Brooke’s head tilted the slightest bit.

I’d gone back in the house with Minori-san and Hikaru-san, but only for a moment. I’d had a brainstorm, and headed out to visit the little cabin on the grounds—Brooke and Cerise’s home. It was actually the first time I had been there. Hence why Brooke looked so surprised. Or at least, I thought he did.

“Sorry to just show up like this. I wanted to get your advice about something...”

“Advice? Mine, sir?” Brooke’s tongue flicked in and out of his mouth quicker than usual. Ah. That I recognized. Not so much surprise as reluctance.

“Can I come in?”

“Certainly, er...” Brooke stepped aside and I walked into the house with a polite greeting.

I’d had a certain idea of what Brooke and Cerise’s room must look like from the way they dressed and acted, and I wasn’t far off—it was a pretty simple place. There were a few wicker chests of different sizes, probably with clothes in them, and a rush mat laid right on the floor, probably their bed. There was no furniture to speak of, but in the middle of the room was a sort of brazier, presumably for warmth.

“Afraid ’tis probably not too comfortable by human standards,” Brooke said.

When two species have completely different physiologies, it only makes sense that they would live in different ways. To me, the room looked plain and simple, but for Brooke and Cerise maybe this was best. Maybe it even seemed luxurious to them.

“Gosh, please, don’t worry about it. I’m sorry for barging in.” I smiled apologetically and shook my head. I was the one who should be careful to be courteous. This could be Brooke and Cerise’s, you know... lizardman “love nest.” If I just showed up uninvited, who knew if I might walk in at a compromising moment?

Speaking of Cerise, I didn’t see her around. Maybe she was still helping Myusel back at the mansion. Well, it was best for me right now if there weren’t any women around. Even lizardman women.

“Please, have a seat. Though... I’m afraid we ’aven’t any chairs.”

“Thanks.”

Brooke gestured at the rush mat (so was it a seat?), and I sat down facing him.

“Now, Master, y’ said you were hoping to get my advice...?”

“Er, yeah. Let’s see here...” I was definitely feeling a little embarrassed. Not sure where to start. Slowly, I began to tell him about what was going on: me. Myusel. Petralka. Elvia. The fact that three different girls had feelings for me. And the fact that Minori-san, Matoba-san, and Hikaru-san all seemed to back a different one. How even so, I couldn’t choose any of them, and I wasn’t even sure how to start picking. I told Brooke everything.

Partly, I had come to Brooke for advice because he struck me as the most neutral of anyone in the mansion. But also, he was actually married, and I had thought, hey, maybe that means he knows a thing or two about love. At the very least, he wouldn’t play with me for his own amusement like Hikaru-san did. Or least, I thought he wouldn’t.

“Ahh, hmm... Bit of a difficult spot, that, isn’t it?” Brooke said, after he had heard everything.

Well, yes, yes it was.

“Hikaru-san had this irresponsible idea about measuring who got me the most, like, excited.”

“Excited, sir?”

“Yeah. I mean, you know, who I felt the most naughty towards...”

If you thought love could be reduced to its biological presentation, then the idea wasn’t completely crazy. But I thought maybe it was a little too, uh... direct might be the best word.

“Brooke, why did you decide to marry Cerise?”

There was a pause; Brooke folded his arms as if in thought, and tilted his head to one side. Lizardmen often got stuck being villains in fantasy works, and a lot of people were probably scared of their reptilian faces. But reptiles, from snakes to lizards, also often had big, cute eyes. Brooke looked almost charming with his head to one side like that.

Hey—was this the first time I had ever sat down and talked to Brooke man-to-man?

“In m’ own case, Cerise was chosen for me, so I didn’t have to pick my wife from among several competitors...”

“Yeah. I think I remember you mentioning that.”

Brooke was something of a hero among his people, and Cerise was the daughter of a tribal chieftain. They’d married because people had seen them as socially a good match, not—or at least not just—because of their personal feelings.

“But still, you knew her before you were engaged, right?”

“Ah... Yes, well...”

“And did you feel anything for each other then?” That was something else I thought Brooke had talked about before. “You’re some kind of lizardman hero, right? There must have been all kinds of women who would have liked to be your wife. But you didn’t pick them.”

“Ah... Well, true...” Brooke’s tongue slipped in and out of his mouth. “Cerise I knew from before m’ days on the battlefield... That is, from before I was called a hero, as you say.”

“So she was sort of a childhood friend?”

“Sort of, yes.” And so, it seemed, she had been the one for him from long before other women had flocked to him. Huh. So two childhood friends fell in love and got married... Their story was more dramatic than I’d realized.

“So I’m not quite sure m’ own experience would be of very much help to you, Master.”

“Hmm...”

“Terribly sorry.”

“No, no, not at all.” I didn’t want Brooke to feel he had to apologize to me. I had stormed into his house and started prying into his love life; I was the one who should be apologizing.

“But...” Brooke said suddenly, as though he’d just had a thought. “Ultimately, t’ be together means many years, many tens of years, of being by each other’s side.”

“Oh... Right. That’s true.”

“But feelin’s come and go. Love at first sight, infatuation, they don’t last so long. I should think us and humans aren’t so different on that count.”

I found I couldn’t think of anything to say. The whole discussion suddenly felt more serious.

“So if I may say so, Master, maybe it’s not the most excitin’ person you should look for. Maybe it’s the one you feel most comfortable with.”

“The one I feel most comfortable with...”

I see. That was a legitimately important consideration if you were going to marry someone.

“I remember how easy it felt t’ be with my wife, long before she became, if you will, my wife. It’s the same now. We’re still comfortable with one another. So I confess it doesn’t quite make sense to me t’ measure how excited you are, as a way of choosin’ a partner.”

I didn’t say anything for a moment.

“’Tis just my personal experience,” Brooke said. “Please feel free t’ ignore it.”

“No... It means a lot to me, believe me. Thank you.” I nodded at Brooke, stood, and left the house.

I pondered for a while. The person I felt most comfortable with, huh? That was good advice. I guess being the only married person in the house really did give him a different perspective. Even so, I was honestly still confused. It wasn’t like I had to choose one person and then instantly get married to them. But then again, even that was a sort of modern Japanese way of thinking about things—it might not be how it worked around here. People were considered to be adults at sixteen, and there might not be a clear demarcation between love and marriage.

What was I supposed to do?

I drifted back to my room and, yes, put my head in my hands again, still no answer in sight.