Luna's Memories

A lightless dark.

"My name's Luna! And also..."

In that place where endless darkness spilled out in every direction and the sense of reality was already slipping, a small child turned toward Nahan and added, bright as anything:

"I haven't died yet!"

"I mean, I might die pretty soon, though!"

The cheer in her voice made the words all the more vicious. Nahan's brow creased.

"Die?"

"Huh? You didn't know people die?"

"No, I know. I know, but..."

That isn't something that ought to come out of a kid who isn't even ten.

"Oh! You're scared, huh?"

"What?"

"It's okay! I was really scared at first too, but I got better thanks to Mom!"

"Mom?"

"Yeah! Everybody else calls her Mother, but I call her Mom when nobody's listening...!"

A clear smile. A bright voice.

Something in the girl's smile sat wrong, twisted just slightly out of true, and Nahan was still caught on that wrongness when a chime rang out.

Ting.

A system ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠window rose before his eyes.

Only then did he understand.

Nahan, who had accepted the main episode. An unreal space made of nothing but dark. And the child Luna, standing inside it. The basic information named in the window was Luna's memory of the past.

Why now, of all times?

The question came with its answer already attached.

Because Luna being eaten away by Mother has something to do with that past.

Having grasped the situation, Nahan called up the subquest window and read it through again.

The first condition was already done. And seeing that the second now carried the words in progress, he was going to have to follow the kid and see this story through to its ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠end...

"...Wanna come see her too, big brother? Mother."

Her eyes had gone strangely clouded. The feeling that came with them was simple enough: follow her, and something miserable was waiting.

But if he didn't follow, the subquest would fail. That much was certain.

Quest failed means Luna rampages means a very high chance of dying means I die too.

His survival instinct shoved him between the shoulders, and he started walking.

"Far?"

"Nope! Right in front of us! Wait, you're actually coming!?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

"Whoa!! Whoa!!"

She must not have expected him to agree. The moment he did, Luna's eyes lit up.

"Quit bouncing and let's move."

He gave her head a light pat and looked down. Luna caught that hand, soft and careful.

"Um... h-hey."

"What now."

"C-can we... hold hands while we walk...?"

The murk that had been hanging around her was gone. She glanced up, and her emerald eyes shone.

He didn't answer. He just took her hand.

"...It's warm."

"Good."

The reply was careless. In that same instant the hand in his tightened — a small, soft squeeze, barely any strength in it — and he looked down.

Like a child whose last wish had just been granted on the edge of death, she smiled, and she cried.

"...Thank you. For holding my hand."

The tear slid down her cheek, gathered at her chin, reached its limit, and fell. The moment it struck the floor —

Waaaaaah!!!

A roar big enough to fill a vast tent crashed over them, and the space changed.

"...Just like that?"

Nahan had no time to be startled. He took in what the place had become.

The inside of a circus troupe. Row upon row of seats. Everyone seated, and everyone standing on the stage, wore a mask.

Mother!!

Mother!!

Mother!!

Borne up on that mad cheering, a woman climbed onto the stage.

She wore a mask as well, but one look was enough to know she was strong. From her came the same thing Nahan felt off the Luna who was being eaten away: a turbid, keen, clammy aura.

So that's Mother.

The moment he recognized her, Mother — who had been sweeping her gaze across the crowd — opened her mouth.

"Bidding begins."

The stage machinery answered her at once.

Clunk!

Rattle-rattle-clank!

Wooden boards in the floor split open, and the merchandise rose into view, bound in iron chains.

Rare magical beasts. All manner of artifacts. Costly spices, and more besides. Nothing there was easy to come by, and yet the crowd's reaction was lukewarm.

Even so, the lots sold high.

"One kilogram of firewood."

"One thousand gold."

"Sold to eighteen."

A price high for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠no reason at all.

"One lowest-grade potion."

"One thousand gold."

"Sold to twenty-three."

How long did that quiet, bloodless bidding go on, so unlike the roar that had opened it?

"Ended. We are closed."

At Mother's mechanical voice the audience rose and poured out in a rush.

As if they had rehearsed it, they kept their ranks and files, orderly and quick.

What?

The air was turning strange, and Nahan was caught between staying and moving when someone dressed much like Mother came over and whispered.

"Please stand."

"...Right."

He nodded and was starting to rise when somebody shouted in his direction.

"Bullshit!! I paid last time and walked out with nothing, so this time I'm staying for free!!"

"Please stand."

"No, you bastard, why should I!?"

"This is your final warning. Please stand."

The two of them carried on as if Nahan were not there at all.

He got up, hesitant, and waved a hand back and forth in front of each of their faces. Then he was sure.

They can't see me.

Well, of course. This wasn't reality. It was a separate space, made so he could look in on Luna's memory.

Nahan settled himself a little apart from the quarrel and muttered.

"So I'm the audience."

If that was all, then he ought to watch quietly.

Easier now, he even let the Black Wolf act drop, and he had just leaned back when the bidder shoved the attendant aside and screamed.

"I said no, you son of a—!!"

Thud.

In the same instant, the head came off.

The attendant picked it up and walked over without expression, delivering the severed head to Mother. She accepted it and spoke.

"Processing fee. One hundred gold each."

Eighteen. Twenty-three. Eighty-six...

"Tsk. Stupid bastard."

"An unnecessary expense."

"Eh, it's only the one today, isn't it? A hundred's nothing to pay."

The bidders who remained lifted their paddles to show they would pay. Mother tossed the head aside and turned her back.

"Bidding begins."

The same cold voice.

And with it, the seats that had gone quiet began once more to fill with madness.

"Wonder what today's goods are like."

"Hope there's something good."

"What does it matter? Cry, and Number One takes them all."

"Ugh. Don't talk about Number One. It turns my stomach."

Countless eyes were starting to gleam with want when the machinery ran again.

Clunk!

Rattle-rattle-clank!!

The floor opened. The lots were dragged up.

Another auction? When does Luna show up?

His patience was running out. He was weighing whether to go look for her himself, and he had started to rise when the sounds reached him.

"Khek—kheeehk!!"

"Guhk—!"

"Khh...!!"

Wretched sounds.

Nahan turned toward them, and in that same moment he met her eyes.

"...I'll... live. I won't... die..."

Luna, neck locked in a chain, hanging in the empty air, smiling as her feet kicked.

It wasn't only Luna.

The rest of the goods hung there too, thrashing as if they were things and not children, and even so they strained with everything they had to keep a smile on their faces.

"You bastards."

His eyes went bloodshot all at once. He didn't stop to think. He reached for Daylight Flash —

It would not activate.

Even that was not enough. Only after his limbs had been bound to the seat did the window vanish.

Clunk!

He thrashed, just in case. Some compulsion held him fast.

...Calm down. First, calm down.

This was something that had already happened. It was not something happening now.

Every scene was an illusion. Even if he forced his way in, the change would exist only inside this space. It could not touch reality.

Watch properly. Take the information.

Understand Luna's past all the way through, get out of here, and deal with Mother.

It took a long patience before Nahan could force his heart back down. The moment he did —

"Ollan. Opening at ten thousand gold."

The auction began.

Kghk.

There is no air.

Soon they will be set down on the floor, and even so the dizziness climbs, far and thin.

But no one cries.

Everyone smiles.

Smile brightly. That's how you live.

"Sm-smile. Brightly. K-kids..."

Yes. Smile a little more.

"...Yeah. That's... right. A little more."

Brighter. Smile until your mouth tears.

"More. Khk— brighter...!!"

That's how you live.

"That's how... today, too... we live...!!"

Because that was the way Luna had taught them — Luna, the longest-surviving goods of the wandering troupe called Loss.

Beyond a mind going faint and far, Luna's muttering came again and again.

Don't tremble. That's how you live.

"Don't... tremble...!! That's... how. We li—ve."

When it gets too hard, put on the mask and cry.

"Don't cry. Not here. Never... Y-you can't...!!"

Try, and try again.

"O-Ollan...!! Please, you're being good, right?"

Someday you'll be able to smile even with the mask on.

"Huh? Please, please, not now, you can't cry...!!"

"Haa—khk—hwaaaah!!"

"Ah..."

For all of Luna's effort, Ollan — the first of the goods — shed tears. And Number One, who had been there for who knew how long, raised a hand and smiled.

"One million gold."

"Sold to Number One. Purpose?"

"Sacrifice. Right now. As always."

The questions and answers were barely finished before the shadow that had been hiding behind Mother appeared and reached toward the hanging Ollan.

Crack.

A vicious sound. The moment Number One extended a hand, Ollan's corpse rotted at a terrible speed.

It slumped into a sticky fluid, ran down, and poured into Number One's mouth.

Gulp.

A greedy tongue licked the lips. A nod, as if satisfied.

"Next."

"Mina. Opening at ten thousand gold."

The auction went on.

We smile.

Faces gone red, mouths stretched until they tear.

Luna wished for it.

That everyone in the world would do nothing but smile.

......Right, Mom?