Volume One, Chapter Six: Fava Beans and an Invitation to Fantastical
Snip, snip, snip.
I endlessly worked the knife into the fava beans pods in my hand, making little cuts. Once the strainer emptied out, I’d grab another handful of pods and crack them open with a satisfying pop. Inside, wrapped in a fluffy cushion-like lining, sat plump green beans. I roughly tossed four fava beans into the empty strainer. And then, back to making cuts, over and over.
“What’re you doing?”
“Prepping—I’m going to salt-boil these fava beans… this way the skin comes off easier, and the salt soaks in better… huh?”
“Hm, just beans. Boring.”
I jerked upright and hurriedly looked around.
The voice had spoken so naturally that I’d answered without thinking, but on reflection, there shouldn’t be anyone else here besides me.
The lights were off in the living room, and outside the window was pitch black, nothing visible. The house, wrapped in complete silence, wore a different face from its daytime self.
I scanned around for a while, but nothing seemed out of place, so I chalked it up to my imagination and turned my attention back to the fava beans in my hands.
My hands were brightly lit by the kitchen fluorescent light, yet against the surrounding silence, everything somehow felt dim.
—Drip.
The sound of water dripping from the faucet echoed.
The silence was almost painfully loud in my ears.
It had been a long time since I had felt this tense. I continued working carefully, trying not to make as much noise as possible.
No one could find out.
Right. Tonight, after a long time, I was alone.
After a long while—a secret evening drink.
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇
The flickering incandescent bulb lit up the still-cluttered pantry as usual. Among the shelves, I rummaged through the one holding dried foods, searching for something to snack on. Glancing at the beer cases, I noticed the stock had dropped quite a bit. The result of handing over beer every time Dazil requested one during our drinking sessions.
And tonight’s snack was fava beans, of all things. If I served these to Dazil, alongside beer, the single most unbeatable pairing after edamame—boiled immature soybeans in their pods. Oh, just imagining it was terrifying.
But there was no way I could choose not to eat fava beans, a seasonal delicacy that only appeared in early spring. And after all the effort it had taken me to find fava beans in this other world, I didn’t want that effort to go to waste either.
To save the beer… Mr. Dazil, I’m afraid you’ll have to be sacrificed. Yes. My condolences.
I would keep it a secret from Jade too. I admired his diligence, but he didn’t need to push himself just to join me every single time.
—So, swallowing my regret, tonight would be a solo drinking session, just for me.
Ah, it can’t be helped, it can’t be helped, I repeated to myself as I resumed rummaging through the dried-food shelf.
Just as I found what I was looking for and turned to leave the pantry, a jar of plum wine caught my eye. Last year’s batch still had a young, easy-drinking, refreshing taste.
“…”
—Alright. Let’s drink some plum wine too.
Plum wine was surprisingly versatile, the devilishly good all-rounder that went with just about anything. Surely it would go well with fava beans too.
I carried a few beers and the bottle of plum wine back to the kitchen.
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇
Once everything was ready, I headed into my room.
A bed, a closet, a small bookshelf, a slim decorative shelf. That was all the furniture in my tatami-floored room. Ever since moving into this house, I’d been so busy every single day that decorating my room had never even occurred to me.
…Although, to be fair, I wasn’t particularly interested in interior design, and adorable little ornaments and trinkets had never really appealed to me.
It was a room with only the bare necessities, and I thought it was rather unfeminine, but perhaps that was simply another part of who I was.
There was, however, one place in that room that I particularly liked. My window was a bay window, with about thirty centimeters of space extending from the frame. It was narrow, but I could sit there like it was a bench, and on sunny afternoons, I sometimes read there.
And on a clear night like this, it was the perfect place to drink while gazing at the stars through the window.
—If I leave the light on in my room too long, the patrolling soldiers outside might get suspicious.
Thinking that, I turned off the room’s light, and since total darkness would make moving around difficult, I set out a small aromatherapy candle at the edge of the bay window and lit it. A birthday gift from a friend. One of the few distinctly feminine items in my room.
The candle flickered softly to life, tinting my vision a gentle orange.
—If I’m drinking in my own room, I don’t need a guard, right?
Halfway through eating a fava bean, I suddenly recalled the reason I’d ended up with guarded drinking sessions in the first place, and, somewhat defensively, told myself that.
Shaking my head lightly, I peeled the skin off a still-steaming fava bean and popped it straight into my mouth. The moment it hit my tongue, the bean’s sweetness and fragrance rose up through my nose. Softly boiled, the fava bean had just the right amount of salt.
Still chewing, I decided to start with a beer and cracked open a can with a pshh.
Tonight’s beer, poured into a glass, was one known for its crisp, dry finish.
Sipping a bit of the foam first, then gulping down the golden, fizzy liquid, I felt a sharp tingle of bitterness settle at the base of my tongue.
“Phaaah!”
I let out a breath mixed with alcohol.
That first sip of beer was always the best.
Premium beer’s smooth, mellow taste was great too, but this sharp, tongue-tingling kind had its own appeal.
Gulp, gulp, gulp—I drank it down quickly, and once the glass was about half empty, I followed up with another fava bean.
The beer’s bitterness melted into the bean’s sweetness, settling my mouth into comfort.
—Ahh. This really goes with beer.
Fantasizing about edamame-fava-bean hybrids in my head, I ate one, then two in quick succession, then gulped more beer. The beer tightened up my sweetened mouth again, and this cycle was already becoming addictive.
Before I knew it, the glass was empty, several empty beer cans lined up, and the tray had a small mountain of fava bean shells piled on top. Wondering what to drink next, I glanced sideways at the plum wine bottle.
The amber-colored liquor, lit by the candlelight, looked utterly enticing.
Alright, plum wine next! I decided firmly, and got out a ceramic cup.
The night still had a chill to it. My toes were feeling a little numb from the cold. …Times like this call for a hot water mix, without question.
I filled the kettle with water and switched it on, and set out a plate of cheese-tara—dried fish snacks with cheese—I’d grabbed from the pantry earlier.
I loved pairing cheese with warm alcohol. Smoked cheese was good too, but this camembert-stuffed cheese-tara was pretty excellent.
The kettle clicked, signaling the water had boiled, so I poured about half a cup’s worth of hot water into the ceramic cup.
Pouring plum wine into the steaming cup released a soft, lovely plum fragrance. The amber liquor swirled and dissolved into the clear hot water.
When making a hot-water mix, water goes in first, then the alcohol. That was an ironclad rule. The order made a huge difference in how the aroma came out. Since I added the alcohol afterward, it mixed naturally with the water, which meant I didn’t have to stir it.
The piping hot water settled to just the right temperature with the plum wine, warming my hands nicely as I held the cup.
Breathing in the sweet-tart plum fragrance, I blew on it gently and took a sip. I felt warmth spreading gradually inward—through my mouth, down my throat, through my esophagus, into my stomach.
I let out a warm, satisfied breath. Watching the amber liquid shimmer in the candlelight, I pulled both feet up onto the bay window, curling up and hugging my knees.
Pressing the warm cup of plum wine against the back of my slightly cold feet, I soaked in the warmth while picking up a piece of cheese-tara. This camembert-stuffed one is a favorite, one I always keep several bags of in stock. Something I could never actually enjoy if Dazil got his hands on it—it would vanish in an instant—so this was a long-awaited treat, finally within reach.
The cheese melted gooey and rich in my mouth, warmed nicely by the hot drink.
The rich cheese flavor and creamy texture mingled with the savory taste of cod, which grew stronger with every bite—I nibbled at the cheese-tara with my front teeth like a squirrel.
—Ugh. I can’t stop.
The cheese-tara on the plate practically begged me to eat more. To resist the temptation and stop myself from devouring the whole plate, I took a sip of the hot plum wine, warming my mouth pleasantly and happily.
—That’s when it happened.
“Hm, that looks tasty.”
Something unidentifiable… suddenly appeared in my room out of nowhere.
The instant I noticed It, all my cozy warmth vanished in an instant, and goosebumps prickled across my entire body.
What had appeared in the middle of the room, on the tatami, looked at first glance like a beautiful young girl.
Its coloring was terrifyingly pale. Its hair, more platinum-white than gold, waved beautifully, soft and flowing. Reaching down to Its waist, it drifted like feathers with every slight movement. Its eyes, framed in platinum, held the color of a clear, boundless sky. Sparkling with a brilliance more precious than any jewel, those eyes seemed to hold the power to see straight through everything about me. A straight, elegant nose bridge. Its plump lips, ripe and red as fruit, glistened moist and vivid—the only vividly colored feature amid Its pale skin and faintly-colored hair.
Calling It "doll-like" was nowhere near enough.
Its beauty was unmistakably, unquestionably not human.
I learned, for the first time, that people can feel genuine fear at the sight of something too beautiful.
A soft laugh echoed.
Sitting on the tatami, looking up at me perched in the bay window, the Being seemed to find something amusing.
“Say. Give some of that to me as well.”
With thin, delicate fingers that looked as though they might snap, It pointed toward the plum wine bottle.
A white dress, layered thick with lavish lace, heavy enough to look burdensome, dragged across the tatami with every small movement, rustling softly. The dress covered Its entire body from Its slender neck outward, spreading endlessly in every direction, its edges dissolving into darkness, impossible to trace.
…Overwhelmed with tension, I swallowed hard.
Something utterly unknowable, close enough to touch.
—This was something I shouldn’t dare defy.
Sensing that instinctively, I carefully set the cup down on the bay window with trembling hands, and lowered my feet to the floor to fulfill Its wish. Slowly, cautiously, I made my way across the room. I needed to prepare a glass for It.
Opening the glass door of my decorative shelf, several glasses were displayed inside—gifts from a friend who knew how much I loved to drink. Especially beautiful glasses reserved for solo drinking sessions.
Thinking one of these would suit a hot plum wine mix, I reached for a glass—
“No need for hot water. As it is, unaltered, is fine. —Also, I want the fruit inside the liquor as well.”
At Its words, I stopped reaching for that glass. Then, my eyes fell on the glasses I’d received recently from the herb merchant. Having delivered him the plum syrup the other day, I now had two glasses—the red and the green ones. Their size seemed just right for including a plum fruit alongside the liquor.
I picked up the green glass, approached the plum wine bottle to pour, opened the lid, and used the prepared bamboo cooking chopsticks to pull out one plum.
I dropped the plum into the green glass with a soft plink, then poured in the amber liquor with a splash.
“Is that my drink, then?”
I realized It had come right up beside me, unnoticed.
Gazing at the glass with eyes full of anticipation, It took the glass right out of my hands and examined its contents.
The candle’s faint glow refracted through the green glass’s pattern, transforming the amber liquid into a beautiful shade of green.
“Ho. What a nostalgic pattern this is. Chiko blossoms, is it? Beautiful as ever. A vessel of the ancient people… fitting, for me.”
Then, bringing Its lips gently close, It swirled the glass for a moment, as if savoring the aroma. Whatever scent drifted up from the swaying plum wine must have met Its expectations, because the Being narrowed Its sky-colored eyes, framed by long lashes, and stuck out Its tongue just slightly to taste the liquor.
“…Heh.”
It laughed softly, then this time tipped the glass back properly and took a proper sip of the plum wine.
“Ahh… Sweet, this. And still young.”
“Is it not to Your liking?”
Wondering nervously if the ten-year-old batch would have been preferable, I asked timidly. It smiled gently and shook Its head.
“Being young is a fine thing. There are fools who only value what is old, but that fresh, green period is fleeting—something to be savored only in that moment, precious precisely because it cannot last. …Heh. I’ve taken a liking to it. Pour me more.”
Pushing the glass toward me with a gesture, Its expression looked genuinely pleased.
Relieved, I refilled the glass with more plum wine. The Being then pointed at my own cup and said, with a sly grin, "You too, hold your own cup. I have no interest in drinking alone.”
I hurriedly picked up my cup, and It shuffled closer before pressing Its glass against mine.
The two vessels clinked together with a high, clear sound.
“Humans call this… a toast, do they not? It’s been quite some time since I’ve shared a drink with a human, but I haven’t forgotten.”
Saying this with evident pride, It took another sip of the liquor.
Perhaps growing tipsy, Its sky-colored eyes grew misty, Its cheeks relaxing softly—a sight that eased, if only slightly, the fear I’d felt toward this Unknowable Being just moments before.
I finished off my now-cooled plum wine in one go and prepared a fresh hot water mix. The warmth of the steaming cup gently loosened my fingertips, which had grown cold without my noticing.
The illustration’s description: The Being is looking at a glass with a plum at the bottom.
“So this is the snack, then? Hoh. What’s this? White, thin, and long. Smells of fish… and milk.”
Having apparently rummaged through the tray’s dishes without my noticing, It picked up a piece of cheese-tara, examined it with obvious fascination… and took a bite off the end.
“Hmm, this is…”
Whether It liked it that much or not, It polished off the rest of the cheese-tara piece in quick succession, then licked Its fingers clean. Letting out a satisfied "Mm," It reached for two, three more pieces, happily nibbling away.
Cheeks relaxed, utterly absorbed in savoring the cheese-tara, It looked, for once, exactly like the young girl It appeared to be—an oddly endearing sight.
By this point, most of my earlier fear toward It had faded considerably.
“Um…”
“What is it?”
It answered with a piece of cheese-tara still dangling from the corner of Its mouth. The mismatch between Its beautiful appearance and Its casual mannerisms was, honestly, a little funny.
“Who are you?”
At my question, It blinked blankly for a moment, then said, "Ah. Right," glancing upward in thought before turning back to me with a bold, sly grin.
“Isn’t it obvious just by looking? …Here.”
It turned Its back to me and gave Its body a little shake.
Amid the swaying of Its beautiful platinum hair, something strange flickered briefly into view. "This should make it clearer," It said, giving a small shudder and tensing something around Its back.
Instantly, having grown comfortable with Its easygoing manner and having let my guard down, my mind went blank at the sight before me.
—It was a sight far too fantastical to be real.
What appeared were iridescent, shimmering black butterfly wings.
As if to show them off to me, It slowly opened and closed them two or three times. The black wings shifted through all colors of the rainbow depending on how the candlelight caught them. And, perhaps scale dust, something sparkling scattered into the air, dusting the black wings with glitter.
Overwhelmed with shock, I couldn’t think of anything at all for a while, just staring. After several minutes, my frozen mind finally began working again.
A humanoid form with butterfly wings. Exactly like…
“A… a fairy?”
The word slipped out of me in sheer astonishment.
It smiled broadly and confirmed it.
“That’s right. And not just any fairy, mind you. —A queen. Impressive, isn’t it?”
Narrowing Its beautiful sky-blue eyes, as if It’d just told an amusing joke, It pressed a delicate hand to Its mouth and shook with quiet, amused laughter.
Apparently, It had no name.
But going without a name was inconvenient in various ways. So, on a whim, It’d have whoever It took a liking to at the time give It a temporary name to use for a while.
…And this time, It left the naming to me, so I named It Titania.
—The name of the fairy queen from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, incidentally.
She—Titania—repeated the name a few times, then flashed a radiant smile, saying, "What a lovely ring to it." That smile drew a small smile out of me too.
But Titania’s expression quickly shifted into something more complicated, and, scratching her cheek with a finger, she muttered quietly:
“I’d forgotten you came from another world. That anyone could look upon me and not recognize me at a glance… perhaps I’ve grown complacent, having lived so terribly long.”
“…From another world?”
“Hmph. You were summoned here from a world other than this one, were you not?”
Her sharp ears having caught my question, she answered with an oddly proud tone. Titania explained that among the fairies, it was well-known news that a Saint had been summoned from another world several months ago.
“The miasma troubles us fairies as well. Many of my kin go mad, driven wild by its taint. Everyone had been eagerly awaiting a Saint capable of purifying it… I, being bored, thought I’d come take a look at this rumored Saint myself.”
With a childlike look on her face, Titania explained that this was why she’d descended to human settlements for the first time in a long while.
“While wandering about searching for this Saint, I caught the scent of some delicious-smelling alcohol. Couldn’t resist, and came straight here.”
“You… like alcohol?”
“Oh, absolutely!”
Titania answered instantly. "Liquor is a wonderful thing,” she added with a delighted smile.
Noticing her glass had emptied, I poured her more plum wine.
Watching happily the alcohol being poured, Titania took a sip the moment her glass was full, licking the liquor off her lips.
“I favor sweet drinks. …Though I don’t dislike strong ones either. Especially the fruit soaked in this liquor—that, I love the most.”
Titania took a little bite of a plum and let out a soft, blissful moan.
Her cheeks flushed rose, gazing rapturously at the fruit as she chewed—an expression somewhere between sensual and adorable, in a perfectly balanced sort of way.
“Ah. Delicious, simply delicious. Give me another.”
“Yes, yes.”
I scooped out another plum from the bottle and dropped it into Titania’s glass. She happily picked it up with her fingers, nibbling at it with her small mouth, trembling with delight at the taste.
Watching her adorable behavior, I found myself softening—but a question that had crossed my mind slipped out.
“Titania, are you famous? …I mean, famous enough that everyone would recognize you instantly?”
After all, the way she’d spoken earlier had made it sound as though there was no one who didn’t know her.
At my question, Titania lifted her gaze from the plum, and her expression suddenly shifted into something doll-like, unreadable.
“Well, yes. The Platinum Fairy Queen is famous enough to appear in fairy tales, and even in children’s songs.”
Saying that, Titania curved her sky-blue eyes into crescents. "Shall I sing for you? Though I warn you, my song carries the power of enchantment, so I can’t guarantee what happens to you afterward," she said with a laugh.
That expression on Titania’s face, combined with her beauty, was somehow… terrifyingly eerie. Nowhere in it could I find anything resembling human emotion, anything warm. —Her expression smiled, but her eyes held nothing at all.
…Where had the adorable fairy from a moment ago gone? Remembering the fact I’d nearly forgotten—that I was dealing with something inhuman—sent a chill through me.
Careful not to let my voice shake, I politely declined.
…I couldn’t let my guard down while talking with her, not even for a moment.
Carried along by Titania’s cheerful, lighthearted tone, if I let myself relax, I felt like the conversation could veer somewhere terrifying without warning.
She had a similar air to the cunning witches from old fairy tales I’d read as a child—even talking with her left a constant, deep chill somewhere inside me.
“…Besides, I’m known as one who sneaks into human homes. I go in, do as I please, and make off with the finest liquor in the house. Human parents even tell their children to hurry to bed, or the Fairy Queen will come and carry them off… hehehe.”
Titania rapturously crunched through a plum, seeds and all. Noticing she’d run out, she gazed discontentedly at her empty glass.
Sensing something ominous in the increasingly glazed, unsettling atmosphere emanating from her, I hurriedly handed her another plum.
“…Munch. Delicious. Don’t misunderstand, though. What I actually take from human homes is only ever alcohol. I don’t steal human children. Well, I have cursed a human or two who refused to offer me their liquor.”
“Cur… sed…”
The Fairy Queen sneaked into human homes night after night to steal their liquor… and cursed anyone who refused to give her a drink.
Only now did I fully grasp what exactly stood before me, and I found myself trembling.
I wanted to reach back in time and scold my earlier self for nearly letting my guard down around this innocently-munching-on-plums Titania.
If, just if, I’d mishandled things from the moment I met her—what would have happened? Might I have been cursed?
Horrified by that thought, I bit down hard on my lip.
Whether or not she noticed my inner turmoil, Titania simply remarked cheerfully, "Good thing I didn’t accidentally curse you," munching on a piece of cheese-tara with an easygoing expression.
“This sort of thing should be done only to those who understand who I am. That’s the pride of an inhuman being. Flashing the threat of a curse, watching a human’s face twist in fear as I make off with their finest liquor—that’s the proper way to enjoy it. There’s no fun in doing it to someone who doesn’t even know who I am. …How careless of me, doing something so uncouth.”
—This queen has terrible taste!
Seeing my face stiffen visibly, Titania laughed again, genuinely delighted, combing her hair with her fingers as she crunched down another plum and swallowed.
“Ho ho. Don’t make such a frightened face. As an apology, I’ll grant you one wish. It’s rare for me to do such a thing. …Consider it special, yes?”
“Huh?”
“Heh, curses aren’t the only thing I bestow… Come now, a wish. You must have one. Human desires never run dry.”
After saying that, Titania tilted her head to one side and pondered for a moment. Then, as though she’d thought of something, she suddenly looked up. “That’s it!” Her face lit up, and with a mischievous grin like a child who’d just come up with a prank, she leaned in close to me.
—A sweet, floral scent tickled my nose. Her beautiful face, wearing a sly grin, drew close before my eyes.
“A young human female like you surely has one or two males she fancies. If you’d like, shall I use my charm magic to make you his captive?”
“No, no, no, no, no. Wait just a moment.”
Alarmed by Titania’s outrageous suggestion, I hurried to stop her.
“What, you don’t want it? …How picky. True, one bewitched by the spell grows dazed, loses the ability to think clearly, and comes pursuing you relentlessly wherever you go, but he won’t stray to another, so it’s not a bad deal for a female, I’d think.”
“No, it’s absolutely a bad deal! Being pursued relentlessly wherever I go sounds terrifying!”
“Hmph. Boring.”
Titania pouted, lips pursed, clearly dissatisfied.
At least she seemed to have given up on the charm magic idea, which relieved me.
But my relief was short-lived, as a certain fantasy crossed my mind.
—A man with black hair and gold eyes, gazing at me with dazed, intense eyes, pursuing me relentlessly.
Perhaps triggered by the phrase "a male you fancy," his face suddenly surfaced in my mind for no reason.
—Why is Mr. Jade’s face popping up now!?
Watching me flush pale and red by turns, thoroughly flustered, Titania grinned boldly and pointed straight at me.
“You do have a male you fancy, don’t you?”
“I do not!”
“Liar. Be honest, human child. Ah, could it be—that armored male always at your side? He seemed rather fond of you too! My charm magic would be entirely unnecessary, then.”
“…! What are you even saying!”
My cheeks burned hot at Titania’s words.
—W-why am I getting this flustered!?
Trying desperately to calm myself, half out of spite, I grabbed a fava bean from the tray, roughly peeled it, and shoved it into my mouth.
Ah, the fava beans really were delicious, but—I should’ve prepared something sweet too…!
Well, whatever, I thought, eating one, then another in quick succession, when I felt an intense stare on me. The source of that gaze was, of course, Titania, watching me with obvious curiosity, sneaking glances my way.
“Say. Say. That’s a bean, isn’t it? …Just an ordinary bean, right? Beans aren’t that delicious, are they? Why are you eating so many? Is it good? Well? Is it?”
Titania tugged at my sleeve with her fingertips, her voice taking on a whining, needy tone.
I stopped eating fava beans and stared intently at her.
An innocent, childlike fairy. A cunning, witch-like fairy. A terrifying, unknowable monster of a fairy.
Which one was Titania’s true form?
“Come now, you. How is that bean? Answer quickly.”
“Just try it yourself.”
Today, I’d been thoroughly tossed around by Titania’s constantly shifting moods, and had finally ended up spiraling into strange fantasies of my own accord—my mental processing capacity had long since been exceeded.
Utterly exhausted, I unconsciously answered curtly, peeled a fava bean, and shoved it into her persistently pestering mouth.
The instant after, I remembered exactly what kind of being I was dealing with, and regretted it immediately.
…If I’d upset her, there was no telling what she might do to me…!
A cold sweat trickled down my back.
“Nn. Mmf… Hoh! Indeed a bean! And a remarkably delicious one at that!”
Oblivious to my inner panic, Titania’s cheeks flushed rose, and she seemed to have taken quite a liking to it, cradling the plate of fava beans and eagerly digging in with delight.
…My reckless behavior just now hadn’t even registered as an issue to Titania, apparently.
“These beans… Ah, they’re those things the magic trees fling around in spring, aren’t they?”
“Huh?”
Titania said something odd again, and I let out a dumbfounded sound involuntarily.
“Old Treant told me. Come spring, more humans start wandering into his forest home, so he scatters plenty of these beans to drive them off. Aims them right at their backsides, apparently—old Treant bragged about how amusing it was, watching humans clutch their rears and flee in undignified panic. He did say that lately, for some reason, humans had been coming all the way there carrying baskets… But who would have thought these were so delicious! That old geezer’s quite something!”
…That’s definitely not what that Treant elder intended, is it?
I stared intently at the fava beans, wondering if any of them had perhaps once struck someone’s backside.
…These came sold in their pods, so I’d like to believe otherwise.
After that, I continued drinking plum wine alongside Titania, who kept demanding one plum after another. But honestly, I was starting to hit my limit.
Setting down the plum wine cup, I pulled out a small bottle of clear sake from the back of my display shelf. My head was thoroughly muddled, and sweet plum wine wasn’t going to get me anywhere near drunk enough.
I craved something sharp and strong. Ah, I desperately wanted to feel something solidly, undeniably real against my skin. Something real, free of fairies, magic… curses and backsides!
Wanting to forget even a little of the reality currently surrounding me, I sat on the bay window and looked out at the night sky.
Apparently, it was a new moon tonight. Perhaps thanks to the absent moon, the stars shone more brilliantly than usual.
“Ah. What a beautiful night sky. Look, you. The spring migration.”
Titania, having come to sit beside me without my noticing, gazed up at the night sky together with me, following where she pointed.
There, against the star-speckled dark sky, something were swimming leisurely through the air. They had a round body, large fins fluttering, undulating gracefully as they moved forward.
—There were quite a lot of them. Blocking the starlight, occupying a portion of the night sky, they made it look as though a black river were flowing through that one section, obscuring the stars entirely.
“Ho. How admirable. It seems they’ve noticed me and come to pay their respects.”
Just as Titania said, a few of them—the ones swimming at the front—gradually drew closer toward us.
Starting out roughly the size of a grain of rice, they grew larger and larger the closer they came. Just how big would they get? Right as they seemed to fill the entire visible span of the window, they—poof—vanished.
“Eh?”
At the sheer absurdity of it, I let out an involuntary sound, and the very next moment.
A black shadow suddenly covered the window outside, and there—an enormous eyeball, bigger than my own head, rolled into view!
“…Eek…!”
A scream slipped from my throat involuntarily.
It rolled its massive eye around, scanning the room, before finding Titania and fixing its gaze on her. Then, just as suddenly—poof—it drew back and vanished again.
“There now, you. Don’t just sit there frozen. Open the window and look. One doesn’t often get to meet those—it’s worth seeing, I assure you.”
Titania said this while sipping her plum wine, gazing up rapturously at the star-filled sky.
Having slid off the bay window and collapsed onto the tatami from shock and fear, I forced my limp body to move, cautiously opening the window.
Leaning slightly out from the bay window, I searched the cold spring night sky for it.
I didn’t have to search long—it was right there.
—If I had to compare it to something, it was like an impossibly enormous goldfish.
Definitely not a carp. It was one of those bright-red goldfish with the round bodies you’d see at a night festival stall. Its neatly arranged, glossy red scales sparkled beautifully in the starlight. Its huge, flamboyant tail, like a flowing red dress, sent gusts of wind rattling the window with every graceful flutter.
Several of them danced through the night sky as if swimming through water. Countless flashes of red wove in and out of the darkness, drawing near then pulling away, as if playing a game. After circling for a while, they each approached Titania one by one, seemingly exchanging words—their mouths opening and closing repeatedly—before returning to the group in the sky.
The many creatures swimming through the starry sky gradually receded into the distance. They joined up with several companions that had come to meet them, then swam away through the heavens, happily twirling as they went.
The whole scene was breathtakingly fantastical—beautiful enough to bring tears to my eyes.
I stared at them, utterly lost, forgetting myself entirely.
Just moments ago I’d been longing for something solidly real, and yet this beautiful sight had completely captured my heart.
A quiet, welling sense of awe spread warmly through my chest. I tilted my face slightly upward to hold back tears threatening to spill.
“For reasons unknown even to me, they migrate north once spring ends. They travel eternally along the border between spring and summer. …Gentle spirits, only encountered during this particular season, traveling the boundary between seasons. Humans consider it a blessing, believing they carry summer with them.”
“Summer…”
“Having witnessed them means summer’s winds should be blowing in within about a month. The lovely end of spring.”
“What are they called?”
“Ho. I don’t know any name for them. Only humans bother naming such things. It is simply what it is. A flying fish that travels the seasons, I’d say.”
“…I feel like you could stand to learn a thing or two about sentimentality, Titania.”
“Ho ho. You’ve grown rather bold with me, haven’t you, speaking to the queen this way.”
Titania chuckled, “How delightful! Simply delightful!” sipping more plum wine as she watched the creatures disappear into the distance.
As for me—after such an unending string of bizarre occurrences, my body trembling, breaking into an unseasonal cold sweat, and finally, my very heart shaken by that fantastical, beautiful sight—I was utterly, completely spent.
Tonight alone, I felt like I’d experienced more than enough of this other world’s true flavor. I’d thought I’d gotten used to the bizarre after the whole Lord of the Mountain incident—how naive I’d been.
—What on earth was tonight, really? Maybe this is divine punishment for trying to sneak a solo drinking session behind everyone’s back again. …Yes, that must be it. Punishment for neglecting Mr. Dazil! Forgive me, Mr. Dazil! I only wanted to ration the beer and quietly savor some fava beans in peace!
—My prayers, it seemed, went entirely unheard by the heavens.
While I sat there brooding, Titania’s cheerful voice reached my ears:
“Heh, you seem to still be deciding on your wish, and it’s grown quite late tonight. You may tell me next time. When I return, do serve me delicious alcohol again. And snacks too, of course. …Ah, that’s right. The other day, you and that armored male were talking about throwing away the fruit soaked in this liquor! Those are mine now, so I forbid you from disposing of them! I’ll curse you if you throw them out! Never, ever throw them away! Understood?”
And with that, the whimsical, terrifying, and yet impossibly beautiful Fairy Queen cheerfully declared, "I’ll bring a friend along next time, soon!" and vanished into the night sky, leaving a trail of shimmering light in her wake.
Left alone, I collapsed onto the tatami, sprawled out limply.
“Fr… friend…?”
…Somehow, I felt like I’d just been told something truly terrifying.
Imagining a future where creatures like Titania came dropping by regularly for fun, I shuddered.
Wanting to shake off that thought, I vigorously shook my head.
…Enough. I’ll take my bath tomorrow and just go to sleep now. And I’ll forget all of this happened, I decided firmly.
But despite the overwhelming exhaustion, my mind, still buzzing with excitement from such an unreal experience, showed no signs of settling down for sleep.
I stared blankly up at the ceiling and muttered to myself: doing bad things really doesn’t pay off.
The Translator’s Corner
In this chapter, it was difficult to decide on a pronoun for Titania. “It” was fitting right at the beginning, when Akane met Titania. But leaving “It” up permanently didn’t seem like the best solution. There was also the option “they,” which generally suited Titania with her archaic way of speaking, but “they” doesn’t sound very good. So I chose “It” for the start section, and then, when Akane gave “the being” a name, I switched to “she.”

No comments:
Post a Comment