A Lucky Day (3)

A grand festival of the Demon King, the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠likes of which would never come again.

Twelve hits had been banked in her favor so far.

I was so fucked.

And maybe the Demon King was, too.

I had to win.

Getting smacked by her was the least of my worries. If I just sat back and let her burn through every last drop of this luck, I had a feeling some irreversible, catastrophic disaster was going to unfold.

...For instance.

"Ahh! My character I've been raising this whole time!!"

Like her Little Farm character getting deleted again.

"So this is where you've been hiding, Demon King."

"Y-you're Napalim!? I wiped your memories and sent you away. Why are you back?!"

"It's Nephilim. Archwizard of Fire. That'll serve as my introduction."

Fwoosh!

"No! Don't burn my paper house!"

Like Nephilim coming back and setting the Demon King's paper house on fire.

"Huh? Why are you wearing a paper crane around your neck?"

"Hm? Who are you? Ahem. This isn't just any ordinary paper crane. It turns into a game, you know."

"There's no way something like that exists. I'd sooner believe in Santa."

"...What?"

"I'm saying that's a lie."

Thud.

Or some tactless, snitch-happy bastard showing up and spilling every secret about the Paper Crane and the camera to the Demon King.

Anxieties like these boiled up inside me without end.

I was not overreacting. Given the Demon King's usual run of misfortune, imagining things like this was only natural.

Poker was a lost cause. The Demon King whipped up four ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of a kinds as casually as if she were assembling ice dragons.

...Not that assembling ice dragons that easily made any sense to begin with.

The ice dragon Dorothy had once spent three weeks sculpting with magic was smaller and weaker than the one the Demon King had conjured in five seconds.

...Anyway. The moment the Demon King — who'd been tossing out four of a kinds like she was popping popcorn — drew a royal flush, I had no choice but to throw in the towel on poker.

And so we went back to Old Maid. But—

Slip.

"Bust! Another joker. My turn, then."

Slip.

"Bust! Joker!"

Slip.

"Bust! It's a bust!"

Slip.

"Yay! I won again! How many wins in a row is this!? How many paper dolls is that?!"

It was like the universe itself was sticking its tongue out at me. Draw from the right, and the card I needed was on the left. Draw from the left, and it was waiting on the right.

This was the Demon King whose luck was so bad she'd break her nose falling over backward and watch every stock she ever bought get delisted.

But today, she was overwhelmingly strong. And if luck really was a relative thing, then I, her opponent, was getting my ass handed to me in real time.

Twelve hits.

I was as good as dead already. She was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠playing games with a corpse. And the Demon King was not the type to have any manners toward the deceased.

"Give me that box."

Maybe there was some secret to that Fortune Box. If that's how it was going to be, then I'd draw Great Fortune myself.

"Keeheehee. Go ahead, try it?"

"Yeah. Hand it over."

The Demon King peeled the Great Fortune slip off her forehead, dropped it back in the box, gave it a shake, and I drew.

A Fortune Box made by the Demon King, ominous from the name alone. On top of her luck being good, it seemed mine was bad, too.

"This is a shit game. Damn box."

"Ohohoho. That's not how you draw. Watch closely!"

The Demon King took the box from me, set it on top of her head, and spun around in a ridiculous dance.

"...What are you doing?"

"Shh. The important part is hopping three times here."

Then, with a dead-serious face, she hopped in place. Boing, boing, boing — three times. Put on a show, why don't you. As if that would actually make it come—

"Ta-da! This is how you get Great Fortune!"

—out. Apparently.

"...It's probably got nothing to do with the dance. You're just lucky today."

"Tsk. You talking back? Want me to cash in those forehead flicks right now?"

"Now that you mention it, I think that dance might actually be important."

"Mm-hmm, of course it is. I'm picking the next game."

The Demon King seized my hand — no, my corpse — with a majestic air and dragged me along.

Shunk.

Fwoing!

The instant the knife went in, Langplgank sprang up with a boing. Ah, on my turn, of course.

"Ohohohoho!"

The Demon King was steeped in happiness. She was dancing a jellyfish-like dance with Langplgank, who'd already been soccer-kicked twice.

"Heeheehee! I won again!"

Having shaken off every last bit of the sorrow and oppression she'd endured, the Demon King laughed in bliss, no doubt picturing the paper dolls that would come pouring down. Or maybe she was picturing my forehead, flushed bright red.

...

It was terrifying.

Getting beaten to a pulp was scary enough, sure, but the Demon King's luck being this unnaturally good was far more unsettling.

"Hey."

"Hm?"

I spoke to the Demon King as she stuffed Langplgank back into the barrel, getting ready for a second round.

"Let's stop now."

"...Huh?"

Like a tape snapping, the joy vanished from the Demon King's face.

"...I-is it not fun?"

She asked, her face uneasy.

No! That's not the problem...

Getting beaten up aside, I couldn't exactly come out and say, You, who always lose because you have no luck, being weirdly lucky today is making me anxious.

"...Uuu."

There it was again. The Demon King's pitiful face. Right before my eyes, the Demon King of the past — the one who'd always been unlucky, always gotten hit, always cried, always been depressed — appeared as a phantom.

What am I supposed to do here.

Long before I ever arrived, the Demon King had stuck her hand in that box every single morning, and she'd probably only ever drawn miserable fortunes like the Ill Omen I'd pulled today.

This was the lucky day she'd waited years for. A brief, fleeting day that might never come again. Was it right to force it to an end right here?

"I-I'm sorry. I got too carried away, didn't I. Like a kid."

The girl who'd been beaming with a Great Fortune slip stuck to her forehead went all droopy.

...Wow.

The Demon King, a thoroughbred in the sport of looking pitiful. Look at those glistening crimson eyes. Those fidgeting pink lips. Those soft cheeks that puffed up like tiny fried quail eggs and then sank back down...

She was so pitiful I couldn't bear to keep looking.

Just let her have what she wants.

The idea that good luck now meant bad luck later was nothing but my own paranoid delusion. Maybe it was simply a lucky day, nothing more.

"S-so you want to stop?... You don't want to play anymore?"

The Demon King mumbled, fidgeting.

"I just meant let's play a different game besides this oak barrel one..."

"...Hehe. That's all it was? And here I thought you were sulking again 'cause you keep losing! You are such a pouter!"

"Reflect."

"My, how childish. You can't even use Reflect magic."

"Yeah, I'm a little childish. Starting today, we're sleeping in separate rooms. And pay back those two hundred king potatoes I lent you, by today. I'm going on a friendship trip with Langplgank."

"I'm sorry, my friend. I've committed a mortal sin. Want to slap me?"

"Is someone looking to die here? Let's eat first and then keep going, okay?"

"Okay, okay! Got it."

I said, stroking the Demon King's horn. I went for the horn because I never knew when the auto-defense buffs on her head might attack, and she seemed quietly pleased by it.

"You know, you really are pretty today."

"Keeheehee. Thanks. By the way, that's twenty-seven hits and twenty-seven paper dolls for you."

Tch. Didn't work.

"Oh my! Oh my!"

The Demon King, who'd been making fried eggs, let out a shriek.

"What's wrong?"

I went over, and the egg sizzling away in the pan was...

A double-yolker.

"...Hhk. Finally... hic... uuhhk..."

The Demon King, plunged into a cauldron of emotion, had hot tears rolling down her cheeks.

Every time she cooked eggs, the Demon King would murmur a quiet prayer: Please let it be a double-yolk today. Having only ever seen one in books, never once in her life, she was trembling, unable to believe it was real.

"Uuu... Live hard enough, and even a day like this comes along. Sniff."

...Don't say that about an egg.

But having watched the Demon King these past few months, I had no choice but to congratulate her.

"Good for you. You've really made it in the world."

I hyped her up, mimicking her way of talking.

"Thank you. Snf. What a beautiful night."

The Demon King wiped her tears on my clothes. She'd clearly given me this outfit so she could use me as a walking towel.

"Wait. It'll be done soon."

"...Why are you like this. You eat it."

"No. I really want to give it to you."

The Demon King would not be swayed from her determination to give me the double-yolk fried egg she'd so desperately longed for.

"Seriously, you eat it. I'm telling you to eat it."

"Uuuum, even I can't yield on this one. Eat it, before you get in trouble."

I knew what that fried egg meant to the Demon King. I couldn't take it. She was too kind for her own good.

"If you're going to throw a tantrum about it, fine. We'll decide with rock-paper-scissors."

"...You've been dodging rock-paper-scissors this whole time, and now you want to do it today? That's cowardly. Like, 0.1 Nine."

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing."

That was a bit harsh.

"Anyway, just eat this already."

"I said you eat it... Huh? My arm won't move."

Telekinesis magic. This girl. She'd been relying on magic more and more lately.

"Now say 'ahh.' If you're going to get in trouble later, you'd better eat it now. There's even a saying that a ghost who died eating still gets spoken to kindly."

"Is that a real saying? No, wait — then let's split it in half."

"This kid, this kid is talking crazy! Then it wouldn't be a double-yolker anymore!"

I had no idea why the two of us were making such a production over a single fried egg, but I couldn't just gulp down an egg that might have concentrated all her luck into one place.

After a long back-and-forth, I finally caved to her sheer force and agreed to decide with rock-paper-scissors. The pen was not mightier than the sword in this godforsaken world.

Gulp.

"...W-well? How is it?"

Hmm... so this was what the Demon King's luck tasted like.

"It just tastes like a fried egg..."

A chill fell over the table.

"It's so good. I think I might cry. Am I even allowed to receive something this precious? I'll never forget this taste as long as I live."

"Heehee! I'm so happy. It's nothing but good things!"

The moment I swallowed the egg, the Demon King flushed and cupped her cheeks in her hands at the table, posing like a blossom.

"Ohohoho. Why am I so lucky, I wonder?"

And then, sinking into extreme self-infatuation, she cupped her cheeks all over again.

Might as well play along a little.

"...Yeah. Today really was something."

"Keeheehee. It's not just today."

...?

What was she talking about.

"...Come on, it's not like you're usually lucky."

"Hehe. Ever since you got here. Every single day has been packed with luck."

"...Huh?"

What luck, exactly. What kind of fortune could this perpetually unlucky girl possibly have had.

"You give me so many presents, and you play with me every day... Hehe. Do you remember the first time we played chess?"

"I remember."

"Before that, I played by myself every day, doing both sides. Every morning I'd draw from the Fortune Box and think, if I pull Great Fortune, maybe I'll get a friend to play with, too. But I got one before I even drew it."

I was proud of her.

In a place this dark and remote, constantly surrounded by the threat of death, to still say that every day was full of luck — that kind of positivity.

"Keehee... I don't know how you feel about it, but..."

"Same here."

"..."

"...Hehe. I'm so happy. Me."

"Turn off the buffs."

"Where?"

"Your cheeks."

"Okay."

Squish, squish.

I kneaded her rice-cake-soft cheeks, now with the buffs off, and said,

"You'd never find anything this soft anywhere in the world. I love it."

"Shihihit, you c'n touch 'em as mush as you wann whenever you wann"

The Demon King mumbled in words I could barely make out.

Let's just spend the time like this, playing and chatting with the Demon King in this nice atmosphere. So there wouldn't be any backlash from the luck she'd had all day. And once midnight passed and tomorrow came, things would go back to normal.

That was what I was thinking when—

"...It's been a while."

"Yeah."

The Demon King pulled up a translucent screen.

And there, I saw faces I knew.