Those Who Walk Above Time (5)
"Cali, wait for me just a moment."
"...Orca?"
Without another word, Orca suddenly left the exhibition hall and headed off somewhere. I had no idea where she'd gone, but since we still needed to return to the academy together, I waited quietly for her to come back.
When she returned, she was wearing pure white mourning clothes—where she'd gotten them, I couldn't begin to guess. Aside from a slight difference in hair color, she looked for all the world like Half. The resemblance was so complete that I could already feel the stares she was about to draw.
She'd even undone the ponytail she always wore, letting her hair fall loose in the same straight style Half favored. The accessories, too, had been carefully matched. Everything about her made it clear she'd deliberately set out to imitate Half.
Ah... don't tell me she...
The idea was so endearingly sweet that a small smile tugged at my lips. Even though it was only a character from a book who had died, everyone had come together to mourn as if they'd lost someone precious. So someone ought to receive that mourning, right? And in Orca's mind, the most fitting person to receive it would be the elf or Half from the final illustration—the ones dressed in mourning clothes. And if it was Half, well, Orca resembled her, so she could stand in, couldn't she?
"You..."
"You taught me with your last work, Cali. That a single tattoo could make someone into a character from a manga. So I figured that with my race alone, I could become Half-chan."
Her hair color was a little different, but depending on the light it was close enough to confuse people. At a glance, she was the spitting image of Half's features. Honestly, since Orca was the only half-elf, half-orc hybrid anyone nearby could reference, the adult version of Half was bound to look like her anyway.
"I'll help a little."
Orca wanted to become Half and take on the role of chief mourner in this atmosphere of remembrance that had formed so naturally. For a second I thought, Isn't this basically self-roasting?—but that would only shatter her pure-hearted innocence, so I banished the thought at once.
Besides, when she came up with something this adorable, how could I not help?
First, I'll weave magic into the lighting so her hair color looks closer to Half's.
Half's hair was a shade lighter than Orca's, so I'd increase the light falling on her hair to make it read as a brighter tone. And unlike Orca, Half's hair faded into white at the tips in a gradient. For that part, I'd use darkness magic to reduce light reflection while boosting the brightness, bleaching the ends pure white.
"Go on."
"Thank you."
Now looking every bit the real Half, Orca walked slowly into the exhibition hall and lifted the flowers that had been laid out. The people who had been viewing the art, and those who had set down flowers to mourn the orc, all began to turn their eyes toward her.
Of course, my art style was heavily stylized, so Orca and Half didn't look completely identical. But that very fact made Half's appearance hard to pin down—and the atmosphere of the moment created an optical illusion that made Orca feel even more like Half.
"Thank you, everyone."
"...Half?"
A dazed voice rose from the crowd, as if they couldn't believe it. Orca kept the performance going with surprising skill, and the whole mood shifted at once. A character from a manga had suddenly appeared in reality—it must have felt like they were dreaming. Though the dream itself had been deliberately manufactured.
"...Everyone really loves her that much."
Some people threw their arms around Orca and wept. Others gripped her hands tightly, their faces full of sorrow. Watching so many people pour out their feelings for the orc, I found it strangely surreal that this fervor had been stirred by my own work.
At first they'd been simply astonished that Half had appeared before their eyes. But before long they were comforting her as if she truly were Half, and the warmth of that scene filled my chest.
Orca threw herself so completely into the role that she ended up bursting into tears herself, or standing speechless with a forced smile. Eventually word must have spread, because so many people crowded into the capital's exhibition hall that we had no choice but to make a hasty escape.
"...How do you feel?"
"A lot better. I'm not actually Half, but it still felt like I was the one being cheered on."
That was because Orca believed she and Half looked so much alike. I restored her hair and clothes to normal, then scooped her up in my arms and carried her back to the academy. She could still walk, but her emotions had clearly overwhelmed her. Holding her close the whole way, letting her settle—nothing was better for that than a princess carry.
"...Ah, Cali! Orca! Did you hear? They're saying Half appeared at the capital exhibition hall! Some people are calling her a ghost, others are saying Half's family is actually still alive...!"
The moment we returned to the club room, Yuria launched into a rapid-fire dump of information she'd somehow already obtained. Where on earth had she picked that up so fast?
She seemed to love mysteries like this—her cowlick was wagging like a happy puppy's tail as she explained. She was probably about to suggest we all go see the real thing right now...
"Is this what you're talking about?"
I reactivated the magic and undid the ribbon holding Orca's hair. Yuria's expression wavered noticeably. For someone whose face barely changed beyond a faint smile—except when pleasure made her lose control—that level of reaction meant she was genuinely shocked.
"Don't tell me... that Half was Orca?"
"Ehehe... Everyone was laying down flowers and mourning the orc's death, so I figured it was something a half-orc ought to do."
"What? I really thought she'd shown up for real."
"As if."
Yuria headed back to the dorm looking thoroughly disappointed. Rosaria was busy today as well, so only Orca and I were left in the club room. That happened often enough, but thinking about it that way made the situation feel a little... steamy...
Just then, a knock came at the door. It felt uncomfortably similar to the time Nia had visited, and both Orca and I froze solid, neither of us moving to open it. We stayed like that for a long while before a voice from outside finally snapped us back to our senses and we opened the door.
"Ah, Professor Londo."
"Hmm, just the two of you? Well, Rosaria must be short on time these days..."
"What brings you here?"
"Oh, nothing particularly special. I simply... wanted to talk with you a bit about your new work, Cali."
"Ah, I see."
She'd happened to be passing by, confirmed that Yuria—the only manga club member who still didn't know I was Siwoo the artist's disciple—had left, and figured this was the perfect chance to gush about Siwoo's work with me. She laughed as she said it. The new piece must have left quite an impression on her.
"To be honest, I've been so busy that it took me quite a while just to finish reading the manga and then see this exhibition. If you all hadn't suggested placing an exhibition hall at the school, I probably still wouldn't have seen it."
"So you saw it today."
"And the moment I said I had, that damn old man—er, my master—started raising such a racket over the communication orb that it was pure torture."
"I can imagine."
Elder Sharon was the type who loved talking about things like this, and with Professor Londo—someone whose conversation he particularly enjoyed—on the other end, of course he'd go wild with excitement. Honestly, for all her complaints, Professor Londo clearly liked Elder Sharon more than she let on.
"...To be frank, this work left me with quite a lot to think about."
"It did?"
"In the end... maybe it's foolish for an elf to mix into human society like this. Something along those lines."
"That's quite a leap."
Professor Londo smiled faintly. Her master being older than her and dying first had never felt particularly strange. But while working as an academy professor, she'd come to know so many students—and the sudden, visceral realization that she would have to watch every last one of them die had hit her hard.
"This work will certainly give a lot to think about to elves who have come to cherish people with short lifespans—whether in human society or orc society."
"Exactly. It makes me wonder if your master might not be an elf. You don't produce something like this without wrestling with these questions a great deal..."
I acknowledged that the work had turned out well, but I didn't consider it purely the product of my own skill. Too many things had simply fallen into place by chance. Orca's father had been in poor health as his lifespan waned, and the material I'd gotten from his collapse had lined up perfectly with a piece I'd already been preparing. That, too, was coincidence.
"Siwoo the artist always makes me think about so many things. But I never expected him to strike so precisely at the place that hurts."
"...I'm sure he didn't mean to."
"Ah, Professor! At times like that, it's good to walk the path of the work in reverse!"
"...In reverse?"
Orca grinned bashfully and began telling the professor the same words I'd once used to comfort her. Stop it, Orca—this feels like having my dark history read aloud at a recital!
"Because simply walking forward let them go see the future. That means simply walking the other way would let them return to the past."
"Exactly. And none of it has actually happened yet, right?"
Just because misfortune was scheduled for the future didn't mean you had to throw away the happiness you could smile about right now. If anything, you mustn't abandon even the chance to be happy just because of something inevitable. She explained it in a way that felt more developed than what I'd originally said.
"That's why the first illustration was deliberately chosen to look so happy."
You might feel sad that the time had ended—but you shouldn't regret the time itself. So he'd drawn a picture too beautiful to regret. Meanings I myself hadn't even known were in the work began pouring from Orca's mouth one after another.