The Tea Was Good, Though

"Bullshit."

Pele kicked me. My ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠backside burned as if it had caught fire.

"I was only trying to ease the tension. Was that really necessary?"

"It was necessary. It wasn't even funny. Don't."

I squirmed. Inch by inch, like a caterpillar, I crawled in and pushed my head up beneath her feet.

"Pele, are you nervous?"

"Who said anything about nervous."

Pele sat down on my face. Through the mask came a soft, plush give.

Oh. Did this goddess have no shame at all?

"Then why so prickly? Is it that day?"

"Is there anything you won't say?"

Fire leapt up from her backside and went nosing, little by little, into the cleft of mine.

"Am I not allowed to feel a little off?"

"Of course you are. Feeling is free will."

"Hah."

The flame winked out. In more senses than one, I had survived.

"Are you feeling strange?"

"Well... somewhat."

Pele crossed her short legs. The face that had been pressed into service as her chair savored the privilege.

"Is your intuition bad as well? Mr. Hwang Seokgu seemed quietly uneasy."

All the way here he had been shifting from foot to foot, like a man who couldn't reach an itch. It was unlike him. Cool composure was supposed to be his whole foundation.

"No?"

"No?"

The answer was so far from the question that my face twisted. Pele squirmed her hips and settled herself.

"There is nothing wrong with my divine sense."

"Hmm..."

Then what was the problem?

"Up we go. Come on. It's about time."

Pele hopped down. Her dainty legs met the ground and went pattering on ahead, and I followed, breathing the sweet smell still caught in the mask.

"So you won't tell me?"

"Won't tell you."

Pele stuck out her tongue and teased me. I thought it insolent and pestered her the whole way, until she burned that place clean off.

What is wrong with this goddess?

We joined the subjugation team where it had taken position before a white membrane.

Dan Miryu welcomed us.

"You made it on time."

"Yeah. Cleared my head for a bit."

Pele's answer was careless. Dan Miryu looked puzzled at a Pele so unlike herself.

"...Are you unwell?"

"Don't worry about it."

Pele waved him off.

"Door still isn't open."

She shrugged.

"Shouldn't be long. I'll wait over there."

She trudged away.

"...Did something happen?"

Dan Miryu turned a subtle look on me.

"I wouldn't know either."

"I am asking you, Mr. Phantom."

"Ah."

Dan Miryu glanced at the scorched region below and cleared his throat.

"You survived, I trust?"

"...I am probably still alive."

He patted my shoulder.

"It's all right. The technology these days is quite good."

"It is not that!"

I have never even used it once. You think I'd let it die?

"Well. So long as you're all right."

Dan Miryu gave a short laugh and led me on.

"You're here?"

"Yes."

I traded a nod with Hwang Seokgu.

"Lady Pele says it will only be a little while."

"Soon, then?"

Hwang Seokgu bared his fangs.

"I'm sick of waiting. Heavenly Punishment had better not catch on."

"Please don't worry. If it is Sir Roadman, he will surely see it done."

Captain Kid was brimming with confidence.

"He has done this work alone for decades. Sniffing out the back ways villains crawl through is something he could manage in his sleep."

Roadman. An operative of Terra, and one of its executives. A legend of the hero world who had lived in the same age as Captain Earth—a true hero who had once rivaled him. Retired, he had come out in person to lay hands on the evil of the world.

"............"

Roadman stood with one hand raised close to the white membrane, eyes shut. White brows, a face crowded with wrinkles: he looked as if he were reading fate.

"...Heh. How long are we meant to stay like this?"

Onodera flicked her reddened fingertips. Beneath those fair hands, her sleeves hung long.

"It has already been hours. This has clearly failed, so perhaps you ought to draw up a new plan?"

She said it only to scrape at their nerves, words she did not even believe herself.

Captain Kid frowned.

"Roadman has not given up. Please wait a little longer."

"Hmph. You would have done better to leave it to us."

Onodera twisted at the waist, making a point of the breast bared between the folds of her kimono.

"I am quite confident I can bring things to a satisfying finish."

"Shameless."

"What?"

Scritch. Scritch. Sword was stropping, with a finger, the greatsword Dan Miryu had given him, and every pass of that finger set the edge glittering.

"Don't carp about a matter that's already settled."

"...Some nobody I've never even heard of."

"That would be you."

Sword did not so much as look at Onodera. More to the point—the old man spoke Japanese?

Mercenaries these days, it seemed, came with four languages: English, Russian, Korean, and Japanese besides.

"Ha!"

Struck breathless by his manner, Onodera made no effort to hide her killing intent. Her pupils flushed red.

"You—!"

"Lady Onodera. Please restrain yourself."

Tomomura stepped in front of her and flicked a glance at Tsunemi.

"We must not make a scene here. Heavenly Punishment will notice."

"Tsk!"

Onodera clicked her tongue and turned her back with a snap.

"Pity."

Sword slung the greatsword across his back.

"Would you keep it down."

Dan Miryu chided him.

"Weren't you planning to have it out with that lot anyway?"

"...Not now."

"Any time is fine by me."

Sword, as if he had lost interest, set his back against a tree.

"Krrng."

San-gun stretched and rose. The eyes that until a moment ago had made him look like an oversized cat drew long and thin.

"Did it work?"

San-gun was not the only one who had caught it. Hwang Seokgu seemed to have felt the same.

"Hnnnngh—!"

Roadman, still until then, flung his eyes open and threw his hands wide.

The white membrane split along his hands and gaped, as if a door had been waiting there all along.

"Hah. It's open."

"At last..."

Dan Miryu swallowed.

"You've worked hard."

Captain Kid drew a handkerchief from his breast and offered it to Roadman.

"Hardly. This is my job."

Roadman was gasping. Only seconds after the door opened, he was soaked head to foot, as if he had stood in a downpour. He looked down at himself and grumbled.

"Useless, the lot of me. In my younger days I wouldn't even have tired."

"In your younger days you couldn't have opened it."

"That's fair."

Roadman wiped his brow with the handkerchief.

"Excuse me a moment."

Dan Miryu stepped up to him and quietly opened the necklace. A green light flickered, very brief, and the color returned to Roadman's face at once.

"This is..."

"A secret."

"Understood."

Roadman set his curiosity aside with the ease of long habit.

"Everyone. From this moment, we carry out the operation to subjugate Heavenly Punishment."

Dan Miryu looked over the team and called out, sure of himself.

"Sir Roadman has forced a path open with his ability. For the time being, Heavenly Punishment will not sense our surprise attack."

He held up a single finger.

"Remember. Our first objective is the rescue of the hostage. Unless that comes first, there is no subjugation."

As if he had said all he meant to say, he looked in through the membrane.

"Then we go in."

All of you. Fight well.

Step. Step. The team closed in with care, each of them keeping a distance from the next.

"Child of Man."

"What is it?"

Pele's face had gone grave as she pushed through the grass.

"You wanted to know why I was in a bad mood."

"Didn't you say you wouldn't tell me?"

"Forget that. Still curious?"

The sudden question left me lukewarm.

"If you're willing to tell me, I'll listen."

"It's because of you."

"...Pardon?"

I looked at her as if she had said something absurd, but Pele was not looking at me.

"...I was afraid you would cross the line."

"Lady Pele. I thought that conversation was already finished."

I knew what she feared. But—

"I am a phantom thief. I keep my promises."

That would not happen.

"...A promise."

Pele turned the word over and over under her breath.

"Then can you make a promise with me?"

"I don't see why not."

"Good."

"My promise is—"

"You—"

Before she could finish.

"Hm?"

I had been left alone.

"What happened?"

I had not sensed a thing. An illusion?

"Welcome."

From behind me came a voice I had heard before.

The First Apostle sat at a table, immortal robes stirring.

"To think you would visit me like this. I hardly know what to do with the honor."

"You are the First Apostle, I take it?"

I dropped into the seat across from him.

"Did you loose some law? Everyone was scattered."

"There was a law prepared for an intruder's coming. You entered so perfectly, however—far beyond what I expected—that the law snarled."

"Yes. We have a very able person on our side."

The First Apostle rubbed the table. It shuddered, then spat out a teacup.

"Drink. I guarantee the taste."

"Thank you."

Slurp.

The tea was good.

"First Apostle. Return the one you took."

"I cannot."

"You heard the prophecy, and still you sit there so sure."

"Had a mere prophecy been enough to stop us, we would never have begun."

Slurp.

The tea kept emptying.

"Do you know?"

"That I'm speaking to a double?"

"No."

"That the Heavenly Road is opening?"

"No."

"That Heavenly Punishment is cutting the team apart, one by one?"

"No."

"Then what?"

The corner of the First Apostle's mouth lifted, barely.

"That if you are late, harm will come to the divine ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠maiden."

"............"

A wind rose, and the First Apostle was gone.

No one remained at the table but me.

Slurp.

"The tea was good, though."

It wasn't, anymore.

A crack. A soft tap. Then a thin, scattering patter.