The Cowardly Couple
Cranel.
“Um, so anyway—”
It was long. It was incredibly long.
Even though it felt like she'd been chattering away for the better part of an hour, Meteria showed no sign of running out of steam, questions springing from her lips one after another.
The surprising part, I suppose, was that I found myself responding earnestly all the same. For some reason, being with her filled me with an almost strange warmth. It was like being carried back to those days—and that warmth caught in my throat a little. This isn't good.
“Ah, I'm sorry. I've been going on and on about myself, haven't I?”
“No, not at all.”
“Sorry. It's strange—we've only just met, and yet it feels like I've known you forever... Maybe it's because we have the same white hair?”
On that point, I had to agree with her. Oddly enough, that awkward distance one feels toward a stranger simply never materialized around her.
I'd chalked it up to her nature, but could there be some other reason? The matching hair color probably played its part too. In all my life, she was the first person I'd ever met with hair as pure white as mine.
“Oh, that reminds me—Vesta, you...”
“...Hm? Oh, you mean me?”
Being called Vesta felt oddly off. All the more so since I'd only worn that alias for a short while.
More than that, though—Vesta-kun? I'm well past the age of being addressed with a diminutive like that.
“Vesta, why is it that you only have one arm...? Oh, wait—was that rude of me to ask?”
“No, it's fine. My right arm... I offered it to a new era.”
“What kind of line is that? That's so cool...!”
Her eyes sparkled at my every word. Maybe that attitude was the real culprit behind why I couldn't feel any discomfort around her.
I brushed my hair back, feeling a touch self-conscious, and her eyes trembled slightly. Her gaze had drifted to my hollow, empty eye socket. Ah—that was thoughtless of me.
“I, um... that is...”
“Ah... adventurer's work comes in all varieties, you see...”
Evidently, the missing eye struck her as a far greater shock than the missing arm had. Fair enough, I suppose—a scar across the face is a serious matter. Honestly, though, losing the arm inconveniences me more than the eye ever did.
“Does it... still hurt?”
“No. It's an old wound.”
There were days it throbbed dully, but it was never much of a problem. The wounds of the body were nothing compared to the wounds of the heart. No matter how much time passed, my mind—unlike my body—was still riddled with scars.
“...?”
Then a cool touch settled against my eyelid.
At some point, Meteria had begun gently cradling the skin beneath my eye.
“Oh, you poor thing...”
Tears had gathered, faint but unmistakable, at the corners of her own eyes. It wasn't even her injury—why was she grieving so hard over it?
It was a bizarre situation: I was the one who'd been hurt, yet she was the one crying and I was the one comforting her. Thankfully her tears calmed quickly enough. I'd taken her for someone who laughed a lot, but apparently she cried easily too. She really did seem like a completely different person from me.
...Or does she?
Come to think of it, I feel like people used to say the same things about me... and yet somehow, not quite...
“Well, it hardly matters.”
“Hm? What doesn't?”
“Nothing, nothing at all. Could you maybe remove your hand now?”
At that, Meteria's eyes darted down to my eyelid—her hand was still busy stroking it, soft and soothing. It was, in essence, the classic “pain, pain, fly away~” routine, and honestly, it was mortifying. Nobody had done that for me since the old man used to fuss over me. I never imagined I'd end up on the receiving end.
“Oh—oh my, what am I doing... Eek?!”
She snatched her hand away in a panic—only to sway dangerously and topple over.
The movement wasn't natural at all. It looked like someone staggering from anemia...
Was she born with a frail constitution? Thinking that, I caught her gently in my arms as she fell. Her eyes went round as saucers.
“Ah—e—er—u...”
“Are you all right?”
I'm still hopeless around women, and yet... somehow, with her, I could reach out without panicking at all.
Meteria is unquestionably a stunning beauty. So why did it feel like nothing?
Was this the fruit of my master's special training?
That's pretty impressive, isn't it?
“Th-thank you...”
Her face had gone completely crimson. It wasn't the flush of a fluttering heart so much as pure, burning embarrassment.
“Y-you really didn't have to catch me...”
“Of course I did. I've always heard that helping a woman in need is a man's duty.”
That one came from Grandpa, not from my master, though.
“Hmm... ohhh...”
Somehow, hearing those words, Meteria recovered her composure in an instant.
How should I put it—she wore the expression of a girl who'd been on a losing streak all day and had finally switched to the one game she was actually good at. For the record, Haruhime went right back to losing after that.
Her opponent was just that bad. Liliruca shows no mercy.
“I'm sorry. You see, I already have a beloved in my heart...”
“Ha ha, what a shame. Though a wonderful woman like you obviously having someone makes sense—I'm simply the one who arrived too late, so the fault's mine.”
“...”
And this, ladies and gentlemen, is secret technique number sixty-nine from my master's 108 Ways to Talk to Women: always maintain your composure when speaking with a woman!
I was trained to play to maternal instincts, but that doesn't mean I'm allowed to be nothing but a hapless little rabbit. I was constantly lectured that normally I should project manliness while occasionally letting a childish side slip through—or the reverse of that—the so-called gap moe.
Are you watching, Master? Your disciple has grown so much.
—Tch. The day that dimwitted rabbit gets full of himself is the day I eat my hat.
Why? Why can't I get so much as a compliment from my own imagination?
“...How strange... Don't tell me this is the legendary Casanova? A natural-born charmer?”
I am nothing of the sort. What are you even saying to a man who's never once been in a relationship his entire life?
“Whenever he does that, he turns red and fidgets all over the place... So he really is a hopeless coward? So it wasn't me all along...”
She'd dropped into a mutter, and the words coming out of it were absolutely scathing.
A hopeless coward... Such a cutting turn of phrase, one you'd never guess from her gentle, pitiable appearance—it made me want to shrink back myself.
Meteria's beloved, sir. Do you know she talks about you like this?
Tears prickled at my eyes for no good reason. Perhaps if I'd never had my master's training, I'd be on the receiving end of the exact same treatment.
The Cowardice Saint, undefeated in succession.
Then, without warning, I sensed someone's presence approaching.
Someone with business at the church... no, that doesn't seem to be it.
They'd come in and gone straight for the hidden passage—whatever they wanted, it was this place.
“Oh, that reminds me, Meteria. Is this building yours?”
“Hm? Oh no, but this is the spot I use for my secret trysts.”
Trysts, is it... What an innocent face, and what a scandalous mouth.
“Then can you guess who might be coming here?”
“Ah, yes. He does. My beloved will be along any minute.”
I see. So the person coming through right now was most likely Meteria's beloved.
Still, certainty is a fool's game.
“Let's step back a little, just in case.”
I had no intention of losing to any ordinary opponent, but this was the age Orario called its golden era. Charging in without knowing who the other party was—the worst possible move, bar none.
Meteria apparently agreed, because she obediently withdrew behind me.
...There was something unsettling about the way she smirked, like she was scheming something, but I couldn't exactly leave her exposed either.
“Meteria! Sorry to keep you waiting!”
The man who appeared was, how should I put it...
To be perfectly blunt, an unremarkable man.
Dull, forgettable hair, and a slight frame that bordered on scrawny. The only thing that could charitably be called a distinguishing feature was his eyes—red, same as mine. A vivid crimson that stood in sharp contrast to Meteria's blue.
“Meteria, why didn't you answer—huh?!”
The moment he laid eyes on us, the man froze solid, unable to move a muscle.
What's gotten into him? While I was puzzling over it, I felt a rustling sensation against my back. Glancing over my shoulder, I found Meteria snickering and squirming with barely contained glee.
This is... ah. I see.
I wouldn't have caught it in the old days, but my instincts have sharpened. I could more or less read what she was trying to pull now.
A jealousy-provoking gambit... was it?
I'd been on the receiving end of those a few times myself. Honestly, the ones who don't catch on are the weird ones.
“Y-you! Who the hell are you?! Why are you with Meteria?!”
“Ah, I'm...”
Suddenly, I found myself wondering how on earth I could explain this situation convincingly.
What did I look like to him right now? A kidnapper? A thief? Or—or I didn't even want to imagine it—the possibility of a home-wrecker...
Ah. Doesn't seem to be that one.
There wasn't a trace of bewilderment in his eyes. What I read there was pure hostility aimed at me, and worry for Meteria.
They really do trust each other, huh.
Well, of course they did—otherwise this little scheme wouldn't work at all. A gambit like this only functions on the premise that your partner believes in you.
Hmph. It was a bit of a bother to play along, but I had borrowed the venue, after all—I supposed I could help her out a little.
I had no intention of performing to a script, but keeping my mouth shut and standing still was within my capabilities.
Is that enough? It's plenty.
Because she'd already traced the instructions into my back with her fingertip: keep quiet and don't move.
“C-Cranel, dear~!”
Cranel?
The familiar sound of that name made my eyebrow twitch—and then whatever she said next wiped every other thought clean out of my head.
“Meteria! Gkh, you—! Do you know I'm a member of the Zeus Familia, pulling a stunt like this?!”
“Wow. That's just pitiful...”
Look, I get it, but wasn't it more than a little pathetic to say it like that in this situation?
Here, the line should at least be “You know who I am, and you still dare do this?!” Invoking your familia instead of yourself—look, it's one strategy among many, but does it really suit the moment?
Fortunately(?), my muttering went unheard by anyone and died a quiet, pointless death. Bye-bye, little soliloquy.
From my standpoint, it was the kind of line that deserved a bit of mockery, but Meteria seemed to love it unconditionally—I could feel her squealing behind me. This woman is a little off too, I swear.
“If you understand, then get lost! Never come near Meteria again!”
“Cranel, dear~!”
“Meteria~!”
I slipped quietly to the side, and the two of them shared a passionate embrace. In reality, it was the single most timid embrace ever performed, but from the looks on their faces, they each believed they'd thrown themselves at the other with tremendous fervor.
How is it even possible to hug someone without your bodies touching? Can we really call that a hug in good conscience?
Then Meteria's expression drifted into my field of view.
A chill ran down my spine from head to toe.
Don't tell me... this was the goal all along?!'
I only played along because it fit her farce—and this is the result?!
That jab about cowards she'd made earlier, and the genuine spinelessness I'd felt meeting him face to face. He was almost certainly worse than my past self... but all her scheming amounted to was that one ambiguous, non-contact hug?
I couldn't tell whether they were the strange ones, or whether my tolerance for all things romantic had quietly inflated beyond recognition—but on one point, at least, I was absolutely certain.
A couple of cowards...'
Meteria was maybe a cut above her man, but the fact remained: they were both utterly hopeless. It was merely a question of who was more hopeless and who was less.
As the gods like to say: so saccharine your teeth ache just from watching—pure sugar-slop.
Somehow, gazing at a scene that finally let me understand what those words meant, I found myself craving something bitter to drink.
“Excuse me... I hate to interrupt while you're having such a lovely time...”
“Huh? WAAAGH?! You—why are you still here?!”
“Eek?! Why are you still watching us?!”
Both their faces burned scarlet, and somehow the words kept getting sweeter and sweeter.
For some reason, I missed my comrades today. I missed them even normally, but today the longing hit with unusual force.
“I was planning to leave anyway, but...”
Under normal circumstances, I'd have zero interest in spectating this sugar-slopping exhibition from a hopelessly oblivious couple. But there was one thing I absolutely had to tell them.
“There's a rather large crowd gathering toward this place as we speak?”
“Huh?”
“What?”
“Eh?”
It felt like the moment demanded a chorus, so I chimed in with my own confusion.
The voices of three fools echoed through the church basement.