The Chicken's Here

I drank the ice water San-gun had brought me. Cold slid past my throat, and my whole body shuddered.

"Krrrng."

"Thank you, San-gun."

San-gun flicked his tail and blinked. Next time, be careful. That was what it meant.

He turned a slow circle.

"Are you going to Miss Hong Yumin?"

"Krung."

"Comfort her well. It was never my intention. Not in the least."

San-gun answered with his tail instead. Thump, thump — it patted the floor.

"You'll see to it yourself? Understood. Look after Sipsado, too."

"Krung."

San-gun climbed the stairs without a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠footfall.

"If you're hurt, you put ice on it. What good is ice water?"

Pele said it with both hands raised and her lips pushed into a pout.

"Your hands are dropping. Raise them."

"Aww, come on. You've got no respect for a god."

"Respect comes from conduct. Think hard about what you were doing until just now."

"A girl can pull a little prank……."

"Are you the goddess of pranks?"

"I pulled so many of them back in the day……. I might even have an epithet like that."

"By social consensus, we agreed to call that a disaster."

"Hey! Stack it against the old days and this is the same as me doing nothing!"

"I won't deny it."

The Pele written down in myth differs quite a bit from the one standing here.

Her personality stands out most of all. The Pele of old had two names.

She was worshipped as the goddess who created Hawaii, and the worship was a mark of reverence. She was feared because she could collapse the Hawaii she had made whenever she pleased.

In her younger days, Pele's temper was pure filth. A short fuse came installed as standard, and so did a vicious jealousy. Ignore her, and she would not let it pass; her pride went without saying. If something failed to suit her, punishment followed as a matter of course, and it made no difference whether the offender was family.

Namaka, Pele's older sister, found this Pele so dangerous that she killed her. A sister slaying her younger sister deserved every condemnation there was. But before she died, Pele had traveled the sea by canoe, erupting a volcano everywhere she passed. Those eruptions did staggering harm to people, animals, and plants. Unable to watch any longer, Namaka took the burden on herself.

Pele was revived in Halemaʻumaʻu, though what she did afterward was hardly anything to praise. Even so, by her own accounting, this really did fall on the side of not having done it. Had she still possessed the old personality, Korea's volcanoes would have blown long ago. Of course, whether she acted or not, for the one on the receiving end it was still a miserable way to go.

"Later, apologize properly to Miss Hong Yumin."

"Tch! I don't even get a thank-you!"

"And where, exactly, is there anything to be grateful for?"

"You don't need to know."

Pele huffed and turned her head. Her cheeks were puffed so full she was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠every inch a child.

"………Doesn't even understand how a person feels. You're awful. Seriously."

"What was that?"

"I didn't say ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠anything!"

I swallowed the sigh that wanted out.

"Put your hands down. Let's eat."

As if she had been waiting for those words alone, Pele dropped both raised hands at once. She folded her knees to the side and shamelessly held out a hand.

"What."

"Gimme your smartphone. I'm ordering chicken."

"Chicken?"

"It's not like anybody cooked."

"There are side dishes in the fridge, though……."

"Don't want 'em. I'm eating chicken."

Pele pawed all over my waistband. With a touch so practiced I could have taken her as a successor, she stole the phone — from me, a phantom thief.

"The lock is……."

"The saved order on here is two chickens, right?"

Why do you know my passcode?!

"What are you having? I'm soy garlic."

"Soy garlic for me, too……."

"Krung!"

"San-gun says the sweet-and-spicy glaze."

Sharp ears. He was up on the second floor, and still he cut straight in.

"Mr. Sword, what will you have?"

"………Make it plain fried."

Sword, who had been watching the news, picked from the menu without a fight. Hungry, by the look of it.

"Sides are fries and cheese balls. The cola is Coke Zero."

"Boneless? Bone-in?"

"Boneless."

"That's seven people, and Kana won't be up until tomorrow……. Eighteen portions ought to do it."

A miraculous bit of arithmetic, by which seven became eighteen, but I didn't call it out. A god and a tiger over there would account for twelve of them.

Once the order was in, Pele handed the phone back.

"Whew. Now we just wait. This is gonna take forever."

"It will."

From the dawn of time, no ordeal of patience has matched waiting for chicken. Should I say time runs backward? The order was enormous, so it would take longer still.

"Then, if only to pass the time."

I looked at Sword. Sword looked at me.

Our eyes met. He took up the greatsword he had been leaning against the wall. Faced with that figure, thick with killing intent, a laugh rose out of me on its own.

"I suppose I ought to pay Mr. Sword his commission."

Shk! The hair above my ear was sliced and fell away. Out of hundreds of strands, exactly one dropped neatly onto my shoulder. It was precision and control enough to raise the hair on my arms, and in that single stroke I understood his attainment had grown far more solid than before. The monkey once packed with nothing but destruction and slaughter had acquired a mind. He had climbed all the way to Homo sapiens.

"Does this look like a game to you?"

Sword growled it.

"Don't get the wrong idea. We're nothing but a temporary cooperation. You need to know we can be enemies at any time."

"Let the anger go. If we have to do it anyway, isn't sooner better?"

"You don't even seem to have the courtesy owed to a client. Act like that in this business, and dying suits you perfectly."

Sword had worked as a mercenary for decades. Among those years there must have been clients as ill-mannered as me. If his daughter had not been at stake, he would have cut me down on the spot. He would not have managed to kill me, but still.

"That's enough, Greatsword. The Child of Man must be doing this because he's thought it through."

"Stay out of it. This is our problem."

Sword drew the line, tuning his killing intent so it would not reach Pele.

"Follow me. We'll talk somewhere quiet."

"I'd rather not."

Krrrk. The greatsword bore down on my shoulder. Nearer a club than a sword, it carried an edge that could part diamond like paper. But it could not cut my shoulder. It only pressed the skin. A red aura seethed up over Sword's body.

"Hoh……."

Pele let out a small sound of admiration.

"If you refuse, I'll drag you out. You're going to spill everything you know."

"And you think you can take me?"

"You seem to cherish this house."

Fwaaash! The greatsword's slash surged upward. Continue like this, and the ceiling would be split in two.

"Huu."

Pele breathed out. A ring of fire wrapped the slash, and then it was gone.

"If you're going to fight, fight outside. Chicken is meant to be eaten in front of the TV."

"Nice, Pele."

"………."

Sword twisted his face, plainly displeased. He looked to have a great deal he wanted to say to Pele, but she was a god, and he seemed to be holding it in.

"Child of Man. Stop picking pointless fights and talk. Keep this up and the whole house gets smashed."

"Understood."

I took gentle hold of the greatsword. Looking at Sword, choked with rage, I gave him the words he wanted.

"Your daughter, Anastasia Alexeyevna Yan, is alive. Somewhere close to you."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

The moment his daughter entered it, the attitude that had been all client and courtesy vanished without a trace. Sword focused on the words leaving my mouth.

"That day, you believed your daughter had died in the burning house. You never even found a body. But it was hard to assume a child just about to start elementary school was still alive."

"So?"

"In fact, Anastasia escaped on her own. She sensed the danger, caught the adults off their guard, and got out."

Wham! The weight on my shoulder increased. Under a pressure like hundreds of tons piled onto me, I reflexively dropped to one knee.

"Even your bullshit is a work of art. She escapes on her own at that age? You think that makes sense!"

"Why do you think it doesn't? Because she was young? Children these days are terrifying. More cunning than adults."

"When ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I killed every last one of the bastards I hit! Those bastards confirmed my daughter. Rotten or not, they were mercenaries. You think they couldn't kill one child!"

"Did you know your daughter was an ability user?"

"…………What?"

"So you didn't."

Of course there was no way he would. He had been out trying to kill people before his daughter ever got the chance to boast.

"Anastasia is no ordinary child."

She is the daughter of Alexei Ivanovich Yan.

"It's only natural an ordinary brat wouldn't survive."

But an ability-user child with an ability-user for a father — there would be a chance, wouldn't there?

"Children, you see, quietly know more than their parents."

That Dad does dangerous work — you can tell just by looking.

"Does a daughter living alone seem weak to you?"

Does a child who cries every day, waiting for her father, seem weak to you?

"I guarantee she can make her own living better than you can."

Cooking, of course, and cleaning the house. She might even know how to pay the electric bill and the water bill.

"A child who isn't loved grows up. That's the way of it."

Because she has to live.

"……Asya did... that?"

The weight on my shoulder eased.

It had transferred to Sword.

A father's weight.

"How she escaped — hear it from her herself, someday. It will be thoroughly dramatic."

"……Hah. Hah."

Sword flung the greatsword aside and seized me by the collar.

"……Where."

Another weight settled over Sword's shoulders.

The weight of guilt.

"You have already taken hold of the clue to meeting your daughter."

"Cut the chatter and tell me where!"

His voice became a slash and raked through the house. Pele let out a pained sound and swept a hand to block it.

"Speak! I said speak!"

Slowly, slowly, the red aura ate into him. An evil spirit laid itself over him.

"Try tracing it back, just once."

"Stow the riddles!"

I caught the fist as it came. A slash stormed past the back of my hand and tore into the wall. This time Pele did not block it.

"At this rate, a house like this will come down."

"You son of a bitch!!!"

"The person who commissioned you."

He stopped short.

Sword's fist halted. His sight combed a distant past.

"Recently, at that. A man with no face. You don't know him?"

"………The Darkness."

As expected. Someone of Sword's caliber, they would leave with the memory.

"……He's connected to my daughter?"

"Connected? More than that."

Fed her. Housed her. Even taught her how to wield her ability.

"He did everything Alexei could not."

From the day she fled the burning house.

"Lies……."

"Does it sound like a lie?"

There he goes, believing only what he wants to believe.

"Anastasia is his secretary now. She watched all of it — you clamping your mouth shut and charging straight at Dan Miryu."

But tell me, Mr. Alexei.

Why doesn't your grown daughter come back to you?

No. Rather —

"Her father might die. So why did she stand by and let it happen?"

A low rumble.

The man who had been a father collapsed, unable to bear the weight he had stacked with his own hands.

"……Where is he?"

"You'll go looking?"

"……I'll kill him."

"You'll be the one who dies."

You felt it right in front of you. That you aren't even a match.

"And even if you did kill him, would your daughter be pleased?"

A biological father, and a stranger who raised her while fussing over every little thing.

"Toward which of them would her affection lean?"

With which of them did she spend more time?

Thud.

He was crushed beneath it. Beneath the man who had tried to use him. Beneath the truth that the man was his daughter's benefactor, and that he could not kill him even so.

"I don't know as far as where he is."

What I do know of him, I'll tell you as fully as I can.

"After that, you're free."

Alexei Ivanovich Yan. Choose wisely.

Ding-dong.

"The chicken's here."

Time really does fly.

"We'll put the rest of this talk off."

Even the Diamond Mountains are best seen after a meal, wouldn't you say?

"────!"

Leaving behind the man tearing at his hair and wailing, I headed for the front gate to pay.