The Burning Flame (Part 3)
"Oh my, there’s an empty seat right next to the young lady." Flora walked over with a light, airy step, pulled up a chair, and sat down beside me.
"There’s such a bad man out there, playing around with women while leaving such a pretty girl all by herself. Don't you think?" She flashed a bright, sunny smile. She looked like she was about to grin from ear to ear.
So... how should I put this? It’s like that feeling an adult gets when they see two young acquaintances playing together and just want to tease them for the fun of it. She seemed to be stirring up trouble just for the sake of it.
Looking at the situation... yes. It’s like when a little girl is playing with a boy, and someone decides to mess with the boy just to see how the girl reacts. You know the type, right? When a group of older girls crowds around, intentionally bothering a boy, just to watch the girl get jealous, angry, or pouty. I suspect that’s the kind of scene they wanted to see.
Seeing Viola excessively pressing her body against me while checking my reaction, that’s exactly what it looked like. The other elves watching were even worse. They had no interest in the protagonist; they were watching me with sparkling eyes, dying to see how I’d react. If you’re going to hide your intentions, at least do it properly—everyone was just pretending to work while their hands weren't actually moving. Who do they take me for?
My tail drooped heavily. Perhaps misinterpreting my reaction, the audience grew even more excited. They started gathering in twos and threes, whispering among themselves.
Adults dealing with children are bound to become childish. I’m not really a child, and I’m certainly not a girl, so why would I feel jealous over such an obvious trick? ...Well, even if they tried a different approach, I wouldn't be jealous anyway.
"Hey, Hazel. Are you listening?"
They say worries come from having too much free time. After Meredith’s hellish lessons ended, I finally had the luxury to ponder a few things. The one I’ve thought about most is my identity. Ever since I ended up in this body, I’ve become... pure, I suppose. Well, to put it bluntly, it feels like my sexual desires have vanished. I’ve shared a bed with Ameryel for a long time and had quite a lot of contact with Meredith, but... that’s just how it turned out.
It was such a shocking realization that I’d even stolen away at night to shed a few tears. The fact that Ameryel caught me and comforted me... is still embarrassing to think about. I’m just glad she didn't ask me why.
"Say 'ah', ah―."
Ah―.
"Good, very good."
I could endure the body changing, but the heart changing was hard to bear. If there’s any silver lining, it’s that while my interest in women has disappeared, I haven't developed an interest in men either. Jealousy over seeing something like that? Not a chance. That aside, how long do I have to watch this farce?
To check how much longer they intended to keep this up, I turned my gaze toward the protagonist. Huh? Our eyes met. No, it wasn't just that—his gaze had been fixed on me the whole time. Why?
"Should we try this too? Here, ah―."
Ah―.
Ah, this is delicious. Is this roasted bird with fruit sauce?
"You... you know how to act spoiled like that too?"
What? The protagonist’s words snapped me back to reality, and I looked around. I was receiving warm, satisfied gazes. The protagonist had a surprised expression. Beside me, Flora was contemplating what to feed me next. I’d gotten so used to Madam feeding me lately that I’d just accepted it without thinking.
"This is tasty too, right? Want a bite?"
"I'm fine."
I could feel my face heating up. The elves' fun little game came to an end with Madam’s intervention. She waved her hand dismissively as she approached us, and the women who caught her eye scattered like insects.
"You all look like you're having fun. Even though you don't usually entertain guests."
The only ones who couldn't run away were Viola and Flora, who had settled in to enjoy themselves.
We moved to a room on the second floor. They said it was one of the most soundproof rooms available. Madam had intended to head to a regular room, but at Viola’s insistence that the matter was grave, we changed locations. I thought she was just playing around, but she’d been listening to everything. Perhaps, from a certain point on, she was actually preventing us from asking dangerous questions in a public place... could that be it?
Once we were all seated, Viola whispered something to Madam. I caught a bit of it—she was saying that we were looking for information about the Back Alleys. For the record, I was sitting on Madam’s lap, so I heard everything without even trying. It had become my designated seat lately.
"The Back Alleys? You’re curious about something you shouldn't be."
Madam clicked her tongue and bit down on her long pipe. The smoke she exhaled with a sigh smelled of grass.
"Please. There is someone I must find."
"Someone you must find?"
"Yes."
The protagonist spoke without flinching under Madam’s gaze. Madam bit her pipe again. Every time she inhaled and exhaled, thin wisps of white smoke drifted out. It felt like cold air flowing out of a freezer.
"Is that person you’re looking for more important than this child?"
Madam said this while resting her hand lightly on my head.
"Pardon?"
"You are clearly this child’s owner. If you go, this child will follow. I’m asking if that person is important enough to throw this child into a cesspool like the Back Alleys just to find them."
"I will never put Hazel in danger."
Clack.
The pipe hit the table with a dull thud. Flora and Viola, watching from the side, flinched. A bit of ash flew off, leaving a gray smudge on the table.
"A half-hearted resolve is how you lose everything."
Madam moved her hand lightly. It wasn't so much a pat as a movement where her fingers—the index and middle—raked through my ear. My ears, which had been flattened forward by the pressure of her hand, popped up and shivered as the pressure vanished. It was strangely addictive.
A long silence followed. The protagonist seemed deep in thought. Madam didn't seem to like him very much. Flora and Viola squirmed, as if they couldn't stand the silence. Boy, he was certainly getting a proper scolding.
"If anything happens, I will prioritize Hazel above all else."
It was an answer the protagonist squeezed out after much deliberation. Madam narrowed her eyes, scanned him a few times, then brought her face close to my ear and whispered.
"Is such a flimsy answer really okay?"
"She’s my family."
"I see..."
Madam exhaled a long stream of smoke and gestured toward Viola. Viola stood up and carefully opened the door. She was completely different from the playful person I’d seen earlier. Behind the door stood a woman wrapped in bandages. From her face, down her neck and shoulders, the bandages were wrapped around one arm so tightly it looked like a cast.
"I’ve kept you waiting."
"Not at all."
The woman replied as she entered the room. Her voice was low and gloomy.
"A child I took in recently. She was part of the Fist Gang."
"As far as I know, I will answer anything you ask."
The woman’s eyes, the only part of her visible through the bandages, shone. A brief Q&A followed. Both the questioner and the answerer were concise and to the point.
"There’s a rumor that a dungeon has appeared in the Back Alleys. Is it true?"
"I’ve heard the rumor, but I don't know if it’s the truth."
"They say adventurers are tearing up the Back Alleys looking for the dungeon."
"That is correct. The gang has been suffering because of it."
"Why? That doesn't sound like the Fist Gang’s style."
"There was talk of an upcoming power struggle because a high-ranking seat had become vacant, so we didn't have the luxury to divert our strength elsewhere."
"The reason the seat became vacant...?"
"I don't know the details. Only that they vanished along with a woman."
"A woman?"
"I only know that she is a Demon."
A Demon! My eyes widened. The protagonist seemed to feel the same. He had caught a lead and continued the conversation, but he didn't gain any real harvest. Since she had been kicked out of the Fist Gang and her ties were severed, it seemed she had no connections to introduce us to. The bandaged woman quietly left the room. At the same time, the meeting broke up. There was no longer any excuse to linger.
Flora and Viola glanced around, stood up, and fled quickly, as if afraid someone might grab them. We also packed up and prepared to leave. Only Madam remained in her seat. As the protagonist was leaving the room, Madam called him back for one last word.
"Whatever you do, see it through to the end. With eyes full of such lingering regrets, you’ll never achieve anything."
"I will take that to heart."
Whether he meant it or it was just empty words, Madam didn't even turn around to check. Then, she met my eyes—I hadn't managed to leave yet—and said,
"Hey, I picked some early walnuts in the next village, so I’ve packed a sack for you. Take it."
"Yes, thank you."
The gaze was stinging. When I looked back, the protagonist was staring at me intently. It was like the look of a detective in a movie who had finally uncovered the source of a criminal’s funds.