Sometimes It's Better Not to Know
“Haa…”
I let out a long sigh, gazing at the moonlight spilling in through the window.
“…I went through all that trouble helping you tidy up, and now you’re sighing again?”
Lucy’s voice drifted over from the doorway, thick with complaint.
“Honestly. All I wanted was a pleasant little wing-cuddle before bed, and somehow I ended up doing manual labor against my will.”
Strange. I had no memory of ever offering her my wings.
“What’s with that look? Don’t tell me you’re upset that I cleaned your room and even changed the sheets for you — you, who couldn’t so much as twitch from the pins and needles — and all I ask in return is a little wing coverage?”
Speechless, I turned toward the source of the voice. The invader who had barged into my room for purely selfish reasons, cleaned it on a whim, and tossed me onto the bed stood there with a thoroughly unapologetic face.
“If you understand, then make some space already.”
As if my answer were entirely unnecessary, she shoved my still-immobile body into the corner of the bed.
“Well then. Much obliged, as always.”
Lucy lifted one of my still-tingling wings and draped it over herself with the ease of long practice.
“…I’ve got a lot I want to say, but first things first. Dinner?”
“Master completely broke down, so I made do with whatever I could find.”
The way her lips immediately puckered into a pout the moment dinner came up told me everything I needed to know.
Huey must have really lost it.
A brief silence settled after that.
“Ren.”
Lucy called my name in a quiet voice.
“Hm?”
“I heard from Master. That you’ll be heading west instead of north.”
“Yeah, we talked about that.”
I’d only half-listened at the time — everything had been chaos — but yes, that conversation had happened.
“Will you be all right?”
“About what?”
“It seems like it would be terribly frustrating for you.”
Her gaze drifted to my wings as she said it. I knew exactly what she meant, and a dry little laugh escaped me.
“Frustrating doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
Half a year had already passed since I’d become this body, and I still couldn’t get used to a form whose race and gender had both been rewritten.
Still, though.
“There’s a saying for this, you know. The more urgent the matter, the longer the road you take.”
“Is… that so?”
“Besides, I’d already been thinking of visiting the west at least once.”
A power completely different from the familiar schools of magic, spirit arts, alchemy, and holy arts — Taoist magic.
The captain had suggested it ages ago: if there was even a chance, it was worth looking into every possibility we could find.
“It’ll work out somehow.”
Only a short while ago I’d been trembling with anxiety, but just holding a sword again for a moment had restored a measure of calm. Feeling a little more at ease, I spoke once more.
“So worry about your Master more than me.”
“…Heh. That’s fair enough.”
And so, trading idle talk with Lucy, I managed to spend a peaceful night for the first time in a long while.
The next morning.
“Oh.”
The full-body ache that had lasted right up until I fell asleep might as well have been a lie — every inch of me felt refreshed.
“Nngh… wings… just a little longer…”
I pried my wing free from Lucy, who had fallen asleep clinging to it like a koala, then kicked the blanket that had been shoved into the far corner back over her with a grumble.
“Your sleeping habits are genuinely awful.”
I always noticed this, but whenever this girl crawled into my bed, I ended up with nothing to cover myself with.
Figuring I’d loosen up a bit, I headed for the garden — and spotted a familiar head of pink hair creeping suspiciously down the hallway.
“Hey. What are you doing over there?”
Never mind that the voice in my head had woken up earlier than expected — Frederica’s room was on the opposite side of the house. Curious, I called out to her.
“Eek—?!”
Frederica jumped as if she’d been caught mid-burglary.
“And what’s that in your hand?”
She turned with stiff, startled movements, and in her grip I saw something familiar: a thin yellow paper marked with an unreadable red sigil. One of Huey’s talismans, no question.
“Ah… ahaha…”
…Yeah. She’d definitely been caught mid-theft.
“W-well, you see… I was going to ask politely to borrow it, but Huey was sleeping so soundly…”
“You could just ask when he’s awake.”
I fixed her with a quiet stare at that absurd excuse.
“……”
Cold sweat began beading on Frederica’s forehead.
“Spit it out. What did you do?”
“…I was going to make a doll…”
Only then did she start fidgeting with her fingers and offering excuses.
“What kind of doll?”
“…A hobby one?”
The way she pouted and whistled while looking anywhere but at me made it pretty clear the intended use was nothing wholesome.
“Look, just hear me out? Materials from an otherworlder are incredibly rare, you know…?”
She thrust the talisman toward me.
“And even I felt a little weird asking for fingernails or hair just because I wanted to make a doll…”
“…So you snuck into a guest’s room while he was asleep, collected hair and nails, and walked out with a souvenir for good measure?”
Frederica answered by turning her head away.
“Ugh.”
What’s done is done, I supposed.
“Keep it within reason.”
I’d drag her over to Huey later and make her apologize properly. Though, come to think of it, apologizing used to be the captain’s job.
“Yeees.”
I sent Frederica back to her room and continued on toward the courtyard.
“The weather’s disgustingly nice.”
The rain from a little while ago had almost certainly been Osmon’s doing. Looking up at the clear, sunny sky as usual, I stretched lightly.
“Hoo.”
I was midway through some stretches, planning to work out the kinks for the first time in a while, when—
“Ah.”
—I spotted Huey emerging with a sleep-rumpled face, looking like he’d only just woken up.
“G-good morning.”
“Yeah. Morning.”
Apparently the sight of me had dragged up memories of yesterday, because he flushed and looked away. It was quite the spectacle.
“I left a basket of eggs in the kitchen. Use them if you want.”
The voice in my head had said that offering an egg you’d laid was a harpy’s way of courting someone, but… honestly, it felt like a waste to just smash something that delicious and throw it out.
“Uh, yeah…”
At first he’d been horrified at the idea of eating something that came from my body. This was all his fault for being such a ridiculous cook.
“Anyway, I’ve worked up a sweat, so I’m going to wash up.”
“…Right.”
Leaving Huey behind as he sighed heavily at the sky, I washed myself off.
Fwoosh.
“Oh. This works now, too.”
I was drying off with a perfectly functional flame when a knock came at the door, followed by Lucy’s voice — apparently awake now.
“Ren. Are you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here. What’s up?”
“Master asked if there’s anything in particular you’d like for breakfast.”
“Tell him to just wing it.”
“Understood.”
Whatever Huey chose was usually better than anything I’d pick anyway. After that offhand answer, I wrestled my way into my clothes and headed straight for the dining room.
“Perfect timing. Master says it’ll be ready shortly.”
“Wow, look how fluffy those wings are. Ren, won’t you give me just one little hug?”
The two women were already seated and waiting.
“Huey’s busy first thing in the morning.”
“Well. In my opinion, he seems desperate to quiet the chaos swirling around in his head — all thanks to a certain someone.”
“…I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Lucy’s words nearly dragged up the image of myself from last night, rear end lifted in the most undignified pose imaginable while I laid an egg. I forcibly scrubbed the memory from my mind and gave my wings a single flap, stirring up a breeze to cool my burning face.
Whoosh!
I smoothed my expression with the wind I’d raised, then fixed a flat stare on the witch who kept spouting nonsense.
“Ren, stop ignoring me and give me just one hug already—”
“…Hiiing.”
Only then did Frederica quietly deflate. I took a seat myself, and before long—
“Oh, perfect timing.”
—Huey walked into the dining room carrying a huge tray piled high with food.
“Why is there so much for breakfast?”
“Haha. It just kind of happened?”
Leading the spread was an enormous pudding that was clearly Lucy’s exclusive property, followed by scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and an assortment of other dishes that Huey arranged across the table.
“So how am I supposed to eat any of this?”
“Ah, about that…”
“Ahem. Fear not — for I am here.”
Cutting Huey off mid-sentence, Frederica crooked a finger. Apparently she’d run into him in the kitchen while he was fretting over a breakfast menu I could manage comfortably, and she’d made a certain proposal.
Following the motion of her finger, a single teddy bear climbed up onto the table.
“Kyuu.”
With a soft little sound, the bear toddled over to me on its stubby legs, then lifted the utensils in my place with its tiny hands and wore a thoroughly proud expression.
“…I’ve been wondering this for a while, but what the hell is this thing?”
Between that bizarre cry — or whatever it was — and the way it made facial expressions like it was actually alive, I couldn’t make sense of it at all. I asked Frederica with a thoroughly unsettled feeling.
“Oh, that’s not a doll.”
“…Huh?”
“Come to think of it, did I never tell you, Ren? Lately Betty and I have been researching magitech life-forms — you know, homunculi.”
In combat she piloted them herself, she explained, but otherwise they mostly operated autonomously.
“Well, I’ll be controlling it during the meal, so don’t worry.”
Frederica beamed.
“Oh… a homunculus. That sounds incredible.”
“For some reason, looking at it makes me feel a little strange.”
I glanced at the two of them reacting in completely opposite ways to Frederica’s explanation, then decided—
“…I don’t want to know.”
—that I would keep to myself the story of a certain wanted man who’d once pursued similar research and spent the rest of his life fleeing heretic inquisitors.
Sometimes, it’s better not to know. Yeah.