Skewers from the Cheating Scene
I returned to the carriage from the affair scene, my arms loaded with skewer barbecue. On the way back, Kirke and I didn't exchange a single word. Only an awkward vibe hung between us.
Before stepping into the carriage, I gave Kirke a heads-up. “Kirke.”
“What?”
“Pretend that conversation we just had never happened. At least not in front of the others.”
“…Fine, I'll do that.”
“So we're calling a truce for now? You absolutely can't pick a fight over that.”
“How many times do I have to say it? I get it.”
I trust Kirke. She's the type who keeps her promises without fail.
After sealing the deal with Kirke, I grabbed the carriage door handle. I flung the door open and hopped aboard. Cecily was already inside. I plopped down next to her and handed her a skewer. “Here. It's hot, so watch out.”
“Thank you.”
Cecily took a bite of the skewer and chewed away. After a few chomps, she swallowed. A smile crept onto her lips. That must be Cecily's way of saying it's delicious. Cecily, you were starving, huh? Craving these skewers that bad?
A dribble of sauce from the skewer splattered onto Cecily's lap. She couldn't tell, of course—blind as she is. I wiped it off quick before it soaked in. “Gotta be careful. You'll ruin your clothes.”
“Uh, y-yeah.”
Kirke, who had just climbed in, watched the whole thing with intense eyes. I met her stare head-on, no dodging. Got a problem? I acted all bold about it. We couldn't let Cecily sense the awkwardness between us. Had to play it like nothing happened.
Kirke broke the silence first. “What can I say, you… Noel.”
“Yeah?”
“Come to think of it. You're awfully close to women, aren't you?”
“Uh, yeah?”
Kirke suddenly brought up this out-of-nowhere observation. Why nitpick that now?
“And you live with that potion shop girl… you're tight with our receptionist… even the church nun…”
Cecily tilted her head. Then she asked Kirke, “Is that a problem or something?”
“No, Cecily. Doesn't it seem weird? Noel is a ma—”
The moment she started to say Noel is a man.
“Uwaaaah!”
I clapped a hand over Kirke's mouth in a panic. Shoved my own skewer right into it. Then whispered super quietly in her ear. “That's a secret, remember? Only you and Yuria know.”
“…I see. My bad.”
Cecily beamed. “Noel gets friendly with new people fast, right? Me, Ilene, and now even Kirke.”
“Y-yeah. Somehow it just happens.”
“If Noel were a guy, that'd be trouble.”
“Ahaha…”
I forced an awkward laugh, twisting my lips into a grin.
Kirke watched and delivered her verdict. “You've racked up a mountain of sins, Noel.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
Spot-on critique, Kirke. I had zilch to say back. But Cecily, you're off-base. I didn't get close to Kirke. If anything, our old friendship just turned super awkward.
The war memories were fading now. Only faint afterimages lingered when I closed my eyes. The sharpest one? The first time I met Noel.
“Huff… huff…”
On the battlefield, I swung my sword wildly. Endless hordes of demons ahead. My comrades at my side and back? Dwindling fast. We're done for. We'll lose. Die. That thought crammed my head.
Retreat wasn't an option. I kept slashing. Kicked a small demon flying. Charged, knocked it down. Jammed my blade into its throat. It thrashed, then went still.
Looked around. A massive boar-like demon barreled straight at me. It slammed into me. The impact hurled me back, crashing hard. My armor crumpled. Breathing hurt. Bones probably cracked.
The beast prepped for round two, paws digging in. One more hit and I'm dead.
Then—a breeze brushed my eyes. They itched; I blinked. In that split second, someone appeared before me. I knew it instantly. This is the hero everyone's buzzing about.
One sword swing—sheared the demon's leg clean off. It crumpled like a sack. Then he tore into the surrounding demons, no mercy. They dropped like flies, helpless. Not a single one laid a finger on him.
I could only gawk.
Once the chaos settled, the hero hauled my dazed ass up. “You okay?”
His voice was gentle, hand outstretched. Nothing like the savage in battle. Warm. Kind. Dual personality, I thought. Sweet and caring normally, brutal when it counted. A kind-yet-cruel hero. Straight out of a fairy tale.
I fell for it. Liked that Noel.
But now I get it. I saw you wrong. You were just kind, through and through. No brutality in you. So war must've sucked. You fought just to get home. End it quick. You were never a hero. The Noel I loved? A lie. Just a guy aching for home. That was the real you.
The carriage ground to a halt. Short trip over. Just to the neighboring village, but it felt eternal. Too much drama.
And apparently for her too. I eyed Kirke, arms crossed, dozing off. Didn't even clock me next to her—just nodding away. Felt kinda bad waking her.
“Cecily. Should I wake Kirke? Kinda sorry to.”
“Gotta, right? Time to get off.”
Fair. I tapped her shoulder. Nada. Grabbed and shook—her head lolled side to side.
…This is kinda fun?
Poked her cheek with a finger. Squishy soft. Way softer than she looks. Huh, face seems rounder than wartime? A mutter slipped out. “Kirke, did you gain w—”
Her eyes flashed open. Glared daggers. “Say another word.”
“You didn't…… gain any.”
Her stare crushed me. One more word and I'm toast. Quick pivot. “W-we're here. Get off.”
“Hmph.”
Kirke snorted and hopped down. Cecily and I followed.
We'd pulled up right at Yuria's Potion Shop.
“Welcome back!”
Yuria waited out front, greeting us warmly. “Yeah, we're home.”
I greeted back. Short split, but felt like forever.
Kirke dug in her pocket, pulled a wooden box, handed it over. “Here. Quest done.”
“Let me check…”
Yuria peeked inside. “Yep, mandrake root. Nice memory, Noel.”
“Easy peasy.”
“And… Cecily.” Yuria turned. “How'd your mission go?”
Her mission? What? Oh, wait—Cecily tagged along to babysit Kirke, right? Yuria got uneasy leaving us solo.
So Cecily's report now…
“Yep! Noel got super close with Kirke!”
“……Huh?”
“They were total buds? Joking around and everything.”
“No.”
Deny hard. Total lie. False intel. I didn't bond with Kirke. Awkward city now.
“No? You fed her skewers though.”
“That was just to shut her up…”
“And you were just poking sleeping Kirke's cheek.”
“……”
Okay, fair points. All true.
Yuria glared at Kirke, then me, then back—like a wife busting an affair.
Kirke floundered. “Misunderstanding! Me and Noel aren't close… or whatever.”
“So Cecily's lying?”
“No, it's true, but—uh…”
Kirke clammed up. No defense left.
Yuria flashed a sweet smile. “I said I'd have something tasty waiting, remember?”
Sounded nice. But ice-cold thorns underneath.
“Come on in. Everyone. Let's chat nice and slow.”