Throw It Away
"Throw it away."
"No."
Eclair, who had come to find me lost in thought in the corner of the garden, blurted it out right away.
"Isn't it a dangerous thing that harms people? How could you keep something like that in the house?"
"It's not a thing—it's a child. You can't just abandon a kid out in the world alone."
"If you're going to treat it like a child just because it looks like one, why not cherish and care for a doll the same way?"
"Hia isn't a doll. What doll moves and thinks on its own?"
Of course, if I expected her to take my words at face value, I wouldn't have spread rumors among the maids about what I'd done in the first place.
"That's the problem. The fact that it can think for itself—that's the issue."
But the point Eclair was making didn't seem to be what I'd anticipated.
"Baba Yaga."
"Baba Yaga...?"
"The witch who made it. She's a fairly famous alchemist in the eastern continent."
Glancing toward Hia, who was receiving Schuett's care in the room, Eclair continued.
"She said making a homunculus's body isn't that hard. By her standards, anyway."
"Meaning..."
"It means creating the soul to put inside is the difficult part."
To me, accustomed to modern knowledge, the concept of a soul doesn't quite resonate. But I could guess what Eclair was getting at—it wasn't just unfamiliarity.
"A body without a soul... couldn't develop a sense of self."
"Exactly. Just a living doll that carries out given commands. Nothing more, nothing less. That's how it was supposed to be."
Eclair's and my gazes turned simultaneously toward Hia beyond the window. I quietly watched her red eyes, which seemed a little downcast despite her unchanged expression.
"It gained a soul?"
"Wrong. It's not that a soul was born—it was that some wandering soul slipped into the empty space where one should have been."
A simple living doll that was never meant to awaken a sense of self. A lost soul had lodged itself in that doll, turning it into the Hia of now.
"Do you know what a poltergeist is?"
"Roughly."
Poltergeist. Phenomena where objects move or make sounds due to some imperceptible force. In the past, people thought ghosts were meddling or that spirits possessed the objects.
"What you named Hia is no longer just a simple homunculus. It's a poltergeist."
An object that moves on its own. Something that acts and thinks independently, untouched by human hands.
"That's why it's dangerous. There's nothing as venomous in this world as the grudge of a soul that couldn't pass on to the next."
A soul wandering without a body must have lost its body—and that loss meant death.
"...Do you think that child would harm me?"
"I won't say for sure. How could I know? I can't see the future."
Uncharacteristically, I sensed no malice from Eclair toward Hia.
"Just... I wouldn't recommend keeping it close."
"I understand. Thank you."
She was probably giving this advice out of concern for me. For this witch, affectionate yet unable to be straightforward, this was likely her best effort.
"Still, I won't give up on her."
Even if the day came when I had to let Hia go, I wouldn't send her out like this. There was still so much left to teach her.
――
The next to find me after Eclair was someone a bit unexpected.
"Bathory..."
"...For my sister to come out at this hour—it's enough to knock me over in shock."
The sun hadn't even set yet, but her frail witch apprentice approached me in her usual pajamas.
"At least throw on some proper clothes when you come outside. You'll catch a cold."
"Ah, got it... More importantly, about that... rumor..."
So the rumors had spread. Faster than I'd thought. Well, if they hadn't, Eclair wouldn't have come looking for me in the first place. The maids' tongues must have been light enough to rouse two shut-ins from their library.
"...Is it true?"
"Do you think it is?"
"I hope... it's not."
Should I tell Urtic the truth? I pondered briefly. She already knew about Hia, and she wasn't one to blab.
"It's true."
But I decided against it. Sweet, naive Urtic would surely try to mend things between me and Frederica if she knew.
"I beat that maid. Beat her senseless and shoved her over the railing."
I couldn't guarantee Hia's name wouldn't come up in the process. No point in lying if that was the case.
"Believe that, for now."
"..."
But even at my words, Urtic just looked at me with worried eyes.
"If that's what you want... okay. I'll do that."
"You don't look convinced at all."
"..."
Suddenly, I grew curious.
"Do you think I'm not the type to do that, Urtic?"
"...Yeah."
"Why?"
What did this woman see in me to give me such unconditional trust and affection?
"Haven't I treated you terribly all this time?"
Bathory and Urtic's relationship had soured due to Bathory's one-sided jealousy and bullying. The story described their rift as longstanding, meaning Bathory had tormented Urtic for years.
"And yet, just because of that brief care, you've turned your heart around like this?"
Had it been a month? From the day I entered Bathory's body until now. Could a mere month's worth of affection melt years of resentment?
"...We're family."
Gripping my hand tightly with both of hers, Urtic said.
"I'm... your sister."
As if it were the most obvious thing, conveying her warmth.
"So... it's okay. I can forgive you... as many times as it takes."
"..."
I see. That was why Urtic never truly resisted my nitpicking, no matter how she whined. Why she never used the spells she'd learned from Eclair to push me away.
"I..."
"Enough."
What a farce. A fake receiving the love the real sisters somewhere should have gotten. And the fake's fake receiving that love in turn. It was so ridiculous I nearly burst out laughing.
"...I'll head back now."
Pulling my hand free, I fled the scene in a hurry. The warmth of Urtic's hand lingered on my skin.
――
"Ah, y-you're back...?"
"Yes."
Rubbing the hand Urtic had held, I gave Schuett a half-hearted reply.
"Is Hia asleep?"
"Yes, she's sleeping in bed."
Mentally exhausted from earlier events, perhaps—Hia lay peacefully asleep on the bed. I felt relieved deep down. If she'd been awake, staring at me with those red eyes, my already troubled heart would have grown even more tangled.
"Miss, about what happened earlier..."
"Drop it."
I didn't want to hear any more about it, so I silenced Schuett. Then I slumped into a chair, swept my bangs back, and let out a deep sigh.
"...Schuett. Have I been acting really strange lately?"
"Uh... in what way...?"
"Just... everything."
Why had I even tried playing the villainess role? To avoid suspicion, entirely. People would think it odd if someone changed 180 degrees overnight.
"...Yes, you're very... different from before."
"I see..."
But I hadn't pulled off the villainess act properly. This world wasn't a play, and Bathory Mirhane wasn't a role.
"What was I like before... from your perspective? Be honest, no holding back."
"...Miss Bathory was..."
Unrealistic reality, realistic unreality. Stuck between them, I couldn't immerse myself in anything properly.
"The absolute worst person I knew."
Bathory wasn't a villain—she was a wicked person. To this world's inhabitants, she wasn't a wicked character, but a wicked human.
"...Miss Bathory, are you acting right now...?"
"Acting... Does it seem that way?"
So to someone like Schuett, who knew Bathory, my clumsy efforts would feel like an act. Not playing Bathory Mirhane, but acting as if Bathory Mirhane.
"...I don't know. The Miss Bathory I knew... wouldn't stand up for anyone..."
"Right. She'd frame someone before taking the blame herself."
That was the common view. My act, blended with reality, kept dragging the actor beyond the stage into the spotlight.
"Couldn't you... just stay the Miss I knew?"
"The Bathory you knew...?"
"Yes. I don't know how to deal with you now."
Her words gave me a faint sense of dissonance. The same odd unease I'd felt from Gretel.
"...You..."
At that moment, a knock sounded.
-Miss Bathory, are you in your room?
The butler's gruff voice came from beyond the door.
"Yes, I am."
The moment I answered, I realized.
-Miss Frederica is calling for you.
Ah, here it comes.