6. The Reversal Opening Ceremony (8)
6. The Reversal Opening Ceremony (8)
[Sub Quest — Patron]
The first quest I completed after crossing into this world.
Back then, I'd only just taken possession of this body. Everything was clumsy. The Smiling Man ran circles around me, and I even took a bullet in the body.
The quest itself was simple. The rewards were small.
But the ripple effects were enormous.
Not only did it unlock the Main Quest — Circus Grand Prix, it also secured me a patron who would fund our travels for two and a half years.
The problem was that the quest was derived from TT3.
The enemies who appeared in TT1 and TT2 weren't enemies at this point in time.
They only became monsters after the main story began.
Right now, most of them were ordinary people. That meant I could form whatever relationship I wanted with them without worrying about the future. Ghost Derek, for instance, was a future helper, but I'd even gone so far as to kill him.
The enemies from TT3, however, were different.
They were people who had ties to Wonderstein even before the main series began.
My altered actions could influence them, and that influence could come back at me as a direct repercussion. Any quest tied to TT3 had to be handled with extreme caution.
But at the time, I simply hadn't been able to think that far ahead. I was scrambling to adjust to my new body, to run experiments through the Evolution Lab, to deal with the first task that had landed right in front of me.
I didn't know exactly what intelligence Pierre had passed on to the Cult of the Caribbean.
But it was clear that his report had influenced the judgment of their leader, Rabbit.
Something had gotten under her skin.
Irritation, jealousy, or maybe sheer mischief.
I had a few guesses as to the cause, but nothing certain.
She and Wonderstein were acquainted, but she was far from a reliable ally. Even in the original game, her personality had been wildly capricious, and her actions erratic. It wouldn't be odd at all if she tried to sabotage me one day, then suddenly turned cooperative the next.
"Why would she spread a rumor like that?"
"To smear my name."
Anais let out a hollow laugh. She seemed just as disgusted as I was by the idea of her own uncle staging a political attack through her love life.
"Two months ago, I informed the board of directors about my uncle's attempted murder. And I put out a warrant for his arrest. He fled without offering any defense—that was as good as a confession. So his faction has been lying low like scolded dogs ever since. If they'd raised their heads, they'd have gotten saddled with his crimes—not just the attempted murder, but all his embezzlement too. But a few weeks ago, a strange rumor started circulating through the company."
She paused, watching for my reaction.
This had to be the rumor that was chipping away at our circus's reputation.
"It's all right. Tell me."
"Don't get the wrong idea. This is just what the rumor says. Essentially... it goes like this: that a suspicious magician has been feeding me sweet lies, clouding my judgment, and stringing me along."
I swallowed a groan.
It wasn't entirely off base.
The original Wonderstein would have approached her with precisely that intention.
"They've started dismissing my uncle's murder attempt as my own delusion. Saying I've been bewitched by a magician and I'm spouting nonsense."
"And people believe that?"
Anais pursed her lips.
"The way I've been acting must look strange to people. I'm a lord of a territory, the president of a trading company, and I've been trailing after a circus troupe. Traveling with them, no less... The only accounts anyone hears are that I'm... practically stuck to your side, Troupe Leader... that I've fallen for you, utterly... When that's all anyone hears, I can't really blame them for thinking what they do."
Well, she had a point. There wasn't much room for argument on that front.
The owner of one of the world's leading trading companies had fallen in love with an obscure wandering magician? Any normal person's reaction would be to shout that she'd lost her mind.
Finally, the muttering I'd heard from the crowd downstairs made sense.
"Even the directors in my own faction got word of it and sent me a letter of protest, telling me to stop acting foolish. The fact that they did that means everyone in the company thinks the same. They're convinced you've... seduced me... and that's the only possible reason I'd suddenly start sponsoring an unknown troupe like this..."
Her face had turned a vivid scarlet.
She fanned herself rapidly.
"They're all saying I've been so psychologically fragile since my father died that I'd cling to anyone. Hah. Not long ago they were busy praising me as the president who'd brought the Bergson Trading Company to its greatest golden age... It's laughable."
By this point, a question had begun to prod at me.
No matter how you looked at it, this was all just a rumor. There was no hard evidence.
The countermeasure was simple.
"Why not just deny it?"
Why was she letting a rumor like this spread unchecked?
Wouldn't a single word during that earlier interview have settled it?
"Just say we aren't involved."
That would solve the problem cleanly.
From what I was hearing, the reason this had blown up was because she was allowing the rumor to run free. A denial, a little damage control, and it could have been stamped out before it grew.
"I cured the Viscountess's illness, and the sponsorship I received was simply part of that transaction, wasn't it? As for following the circus around all this time, we could say it wasn't for love, but for follow-up medical treatment."
I thought it was a decent cover story.
It would put the rumor to rest and restore the troupe's reputation.
Anais's position as our patron would remain secure, and the quest would be shielded from Rabbit's games.
A three-birds-with-one-stone strategy.
But when she heard my words, she let out a hollow laugh.
"We aren't involved...?"
She exhaled roughly, then let her head drop. Her green hair fell like a curtain, casting her face into shadow. Only when her breathing had barely settled did she speak again.
"That's right."
Her voice sounded like a parched rice paddy, cracked and brittle.
I had the sensation that something tough and solid deep inside her had just torn apart.
I swallowed.
Something was...
Something was wrong.
I'd said something... I'd said the wrong thing.
I only realized it after I'd spoken—no, I only realized it after I saw her reaction.
"The directors have been pressuring me to make a statement just like that."
She let out another laugh. It was the coldest, most suffocating, most desolate laugh I'd ever heard from her.
"We aren't involved..."
She raised her head.
Tears were streaming from both eyes.
On her lips was that sad smile I'd seen so many times since yesterday.
"You're right. As if we're dating. Heh. Your relationship with me, Troupe Leader... it was just a transaction..."
She wiped her tears with her sleeve.
"I guess I got a little greedy."
Her smile twisted.
Slowly.
And then she beamed again.
Quickly.
"This isn't your fault."
I wanted to contradict her. But I couldn't find the words.
"You're a good person, Troupe Leader. You even took a bullet for me to save my life."
That was for the money.
"You jumped into the water to rescue a girl."
That was for the Affection level.
"You threw your body on top of an explosion to protect your troupe members."
That was for the quest.
"I also admired the way you never let your eyes stray from your dream. The way you devoted yourself to it single-mindedly."
That was for the reward I wanted to claim.
"I know. You're a good person."
No.
"If you weren't, there's no way you'd have kept smiling and putting up with me when I lashed out at you like that."
That was the curse.
"Thank you for putting up with my whims for the past month."
I'd done nothing that merited thanks.
No—I was the one who should have been thanking her.
Only now did I understand why she'd stayed quiet all this time and chosen today to lay it all bare.
She could have told me, 'The board is pressuring me to withdraw my sponsorship,' and used that as leverage, framing herself as the only one who could shield me from the attack.
Then she could have gotten what she wanted far more easily.
But she didn't.
She didn't use her sponsorship as a weapon to hold my heart hostage.
There had been times when she'd jokingly hinted at withdrawing her support, but only in jest. Never once had she spoken those words in a serious context.
She had refused to exploit the power dynamic between patron and artist. Even though I was in a position where, if she ordered me to kneel, I'd have no choice but to kneel.
That was why she'd waited until the first day of the opening ceremony to tell me all this.
Because once the competition officially began, the company couldn't withdraw its investment.
She had been considerate. She'd done it this way so I'd feel the least possible burden.
So that if I happened to hear that rumor, I wouldn't be left anxiously fretting about what would happen to the sponsorship.
And to her, the woman who had done all of that for me... I had said...
—Just say we aren't involved.
"I'm sorry for suddenly crying. I thought I'd prepared myself. Heh heh. Still, hearing those words directly from your lips... it aches."
I needed to offer some kind of comfort...
My mouth wouldn't open.
All I could do was stand there like an idiot.
Smile like an idiot and look at her. That was the sum of what I was capable of.
"What did you think about me, Troupe Leader? Over this past month we've spent together?"
An impulse to bolt from this room surged through me.
Self-directed fury and shame clawed at my insides, trying to kill me.
—I've got to keep the sponsor happy.
—Why does she keep bothering me?
—Love? What nonsense. She's just got the wrong idea.
I'd once confessed my love to a caregiver who assisted me, only to be rejected.
I'd mistaken her kindness and her smiles for affection.
"I wish you'd pushed me away instead."
She'd told me she was just doing her job for pay.
That all her kindness, all her smiles, were simply professional courtesies toward a customer.
"I wish you'd never smiled at me."
A phone call notifying me that my caregiver was being replaced.
Why had she run away like that?
If she'd offered to go back to what we were before, I would have accepted it.
"I wish you'd told me you hated me."
But if she'd rejected my feelings and then turned up again with that same smile on her face, attending to me as if nothing had happened... how would that have actually felt?
With that exact same smile, that exact same kindness. Acting as if nothing had ever happened between us.
Wouldn't that have been crueler?
Wasn't cutting me off coldly, in fact, her way of being considerate?
It had taken me years to realize it, and I only understood it now.
Standing face to face with someone I had wounded with my own smiles and kindness...
"You're right, Troupe Leader."
She forced the words out, as if she'd tried to swallow her tears but failed to get them all down.
"W-We... ah. We aren't... involved, are we?"
She managed to shape her trembling lips into a smile. At the same time, a choked sound escaped her, and tears spilled over.
Watching her tears, listening to her sobs, feeling the heart she had held toward me—I loathed myself.
What I'd subjected her to over this past month wasn't simply keeping my distance.
It was a coward's venting.
I'd pushed her away because she reminded me of my past self, and I'd felt relief in doing it.
I'd been the one who was mistaken.
So what you're feeling is a mistake too.
But back then—had my feelings truly been a mistake?
Hadn't I genuinely liked her?
Hadn't I just lied to myself that it was a mistake because I couldn't stand to admit I'd been rejected?
I hadn't even understood my own heart, and yet I'd presumed to know hers completely. I'd sneered at what she felt.
I wanted to howl.
But my throat produced no sound.
All I could do was keep smiling.
I could only pray that my smile looked as lonely and sorrowful as the one she wore.
Because if it didn't, I would gladly tear the corners of my own mouth to make it look that way. Make it look like weeping.