Popcorn Cannot Lift Humans
I once touched an insect as a child.
A spirit’s hand felt similar to those antennae from back then.
Or maybe thinking that way was disrespectful to the spirit.
Marguerite froze in place, unsure what to do.
The spirit wandered across her fingers for a moment, touching and prodding.
What was it doing?
“Spirit?”
When Marguerite called out, the spirit stood atop her finger and thrust both arms high into the air.
“Pipi!”
It almost sounded like it was saying everything was fine. Or perhaps making some kind of vow.
It was said that spirits possessed the power to bring good fortune.
Was that why?
The anxiety and discomfort she had felt because of the Saintess melted away like snow, quietly subsiding.
“Thank you.”
The spirit would never understand her heart.
There was no way it could.
Still, she couldn’t help but express her gratitude.
She had been anxious ever since that business with the Saintess.
Even though she had smiled and told her father she was fine, after glimpsing her own future, the fear had become unavoidable.
Before she realized it, Marguerite was speaking to the spirit.
“...This world feels like one enormous... truly enormous spiderweb. I’m caught in it, unable to move, being devoured alive...”
Would it be tomorrow? Or ten days from now?
Not knowing when that terrifying reality would arrive had terrified her.
“Ah....”
Perhaps she had been holding it in all this time without realizing. The tears poured out in a rush.
“Pipi?”
The spirit fluttered up and drew close to her face.
It tilted its head for a moment, then began moving busily as if trying to catch her tears with its hands.
The tiny spirit’s palms became wet with teardrops.
Making soft pi-pi sounds, the spirit tried to push the tears back into Marguerite’s eyes.
It seemed to think they had come out of her body by mistake.
Hehe. Laughing softly, Marguerite cupped the spirit gently in both hands.
“Tears that have left the body cannot go back in.”
At those words, the spirit tilted its head again.
How cute.
“...Pi... pipi...?”
The spirit’s body was still covered in teardrops.
After tilting its head several times, it brought its mouth close to the tears as if to taste them.
“Pit!”
The spirit jerked its head up.
It seemed startled.
Perhaps after tasting her tears, it had sensed her fear.
If tears carried a flavor, it would surely be emotion.
“Pipipipipipi!”
The spirit shot upward with both arms raised, fluttering wildly.
The sight looked so much like it was telling her there was nothing to worry about that Marguerite found herself smiling through her tears.
“Are you encouraging me? Thank you.”
A little courage returned to her.
It’s all right. Everyone dies eventually.
No one dies twice, so yes, it would be all right.
No matter what decision the king made, no matter what misery waited with its jaws open before her, it would only happen once.
Once that single time passed, the fear would end.
Perhaps this spirit was a messenger sent by the gods to give her courage.
“Pipi.”
The spirit flew to the corner of Marguerite’s eye and began brushing away her tears with its tiny hands.
Each time its hands fluttered, the tears turned into sparkles of light and scattered into the air.
It felt as though her fear was vanishing along with them.
“I’m fine now. Thank you, little spirit.”
When Marguerite thanked it, the spirit flew back to her finger.
“Pipi.”
It grabbed the tip of Marguerite’s finger and flapped its wings vigorously.
It was trying to fly upward.
Her finger rose along with the spirit.
She wasn’t lifting it herself.
The spirit was raising it.
How fascinating. Such a tiny being lifting a human finger.
When her finger rose into the air following the spirit, it puffed out its chest proudly and cried “pipi.”
Then it went even higher.
Her arm rose higher and higher along with the spirit.
But that was as far as it went.
The spirit flapped its wings with all its might as if trying to lift her, yet there was no way a human body could float in the air like a spirit.
“...Pi... pipi... pipipipi....”
The spirit tugged at Marguerite’s finger several more times, looking flustered.
Maybe it wanted to fly together.
She couldn’t understand the spirit’s words, but somehow that was the feeling she got.
But humans had no wings.
They could not fly like spirits.
“I’m sorry, spirit. I’m human, so I can’t fly.”
At those words, the spirit looked at her as if it understood.
For some reason, she had the impression its eyes had gone perfectly round.
Still clutching her finger, the spirit floundered helplessly in the air.
“...Pi... pipi... pii pii....”
It tried several more times to lift her hand into the air, but of course it didn’t work.
“...Pipi... pipipipi....”
It finally seemed to realize it was impossible.
The spirit raised both arms into the air as if in disbelief.
Pii... pii... After making those sounds, it flew down to the floor and flopped over as if in despair.
“Ah....”
Was it crying?
Its entire white body trembled.
Every time the spirit shook, brilliant light scattered in all directions.
The spirits near the Saintess had also emitted beautiful light, but compared to this one they were like moonlight hidden on a rainy day.
Ah, this must be a special spirit.
Marguerite realized it instinctively.
It wasn’t just its appearance.
A spirit that possessed emotions so similar to humans—she had seen more spirits than most people, yet she had never encountered one like this.
It was clearly different from the others.
But what should I do?
A spirit crying. She had no idea how to handle it.
It would have been nice if she could fly as the spirit wished.
Thinking that, Marguerite crouched down in front of the spirit.
“I’m sorry, spirit.”
“...Pii....”
The dejected spirit’s tiny voice rang out weakly.
It wouldn’t even lift its head.
“....”
Marguerite thought for a moment, then brought over a large plate from the decorative shelf.
She gently picked up the crying, sprawled spirit and set it on top.
“Pi...?”
The spirit tilted its head as if confused.
It still seemed to be crying.
Tiny droplets of light like tears fell from its white, fluffy body.
“I don’t know if this will comfort you. But it’s the only thing I can do.”
Marguerite drew up the mana sleeping within her body and began to chant as if singing.
“Beloved mother of the earth, flower, breath of dawn that caresses the dewdrops on the leaves, I offer my soul to the curtain of silence that rules over you....”
As her voice flowed with rhythm, a gentle drizzle began to fall onto the plate.
The rain formed directly above the spirit’s tiny body and soaked only that spot.
“Pipi?”
The spirit sprang up from the plate as if startled.
It caught the rain with both hands, tasted it, then spun its body round and round several times.
It seemed delighted.
“Pipipipi.”
After twirling like it was dancing, the spirit suddenly stopped, gathered the raindrops together, and began collecting them.
Water had no shape.
Yet the water that should have been impossible to gather grew little by little in the spirit’s arms until it formed a single droplet.
“You really are amazing, spirit.”
When Marguerite marveled, the spirit puffed out its chest as if boasting.
Once the water droplet had grown as large as its own body, the spirit fluttered up into the air.
Holding the droplet with some effort, it headed toward the window.
Was it leaving now?
Feeling a touch of reluctance, Marguerite opened the window. The spirit paused halfway out, spun its body around.
“Pipi, pipipipi!”
It let out a small cry as if saying they would meet again, then flew off into the moonlit sky.
Marguerite stood there for a long time, watching out the window until the spirit’s form was completely swallowed by the darkness and disappeared.
Will I see it again?
Before the king decided what to do with her, she hoped they could meet just once more.
If so, courage would fill her completely.
Popcorn came home later than usual.
The sun had already set long ago and everything was pitch black, yet there was still no sign of him.
Just how far did he go to play?
While Popcorn played all day, Pudding had worked hard, roaming the fields the entire time.
That was what the people said.
It never rested, diligently catching and eating bugs and small animals.
Yes, Pudding had finally started eating animals, beginning with mice.
Surprisingly, it seemed capable of consuming things slightly larger than its own body.
Pudding would first swallow the animal’s head, and once the body crumbled softly, it would pull the rest inside itself.
The children loved watching that sight.
And for some reason, when night fell, Pudding would return to our field or to me.
I hadn’t taught it the way, so I had no idea how it knew to come back.
Thanks to that, the children decided to take Pudding to different fields every dawn.
Even though it meant one more task, the children were overjoyed.
After finishing dinner, I picked up a torch.
Wondering if Popcorn might have returned to the area with the Sprout, I headed in that direction.
It’s not that I’m worried.
Popcorn was a spirit.
There was no chance he would get into danger.
It wasn’t as if he had gotten caught in a spiderweb and couldn’t move, right?
“....”
He was a spirit, so I wasn’t worried.
Not worried at all.
As I walked toward the Sprout, something soft squished under my foot.
I quickly lifted my foot before putting my full weight down and looked. It was Pudding.
“Oops, sorry. Were you on your way back to our field?”
When I crouched down, Pudding trembled pitifully.
The act was so obvious I could tell it was pretending.
It didn’t seem to be hurt anywhere, at least.
Well, I had pulled back the moment I felt the soft squish.
I gave Pudding’s head area a light tap.
If it even had a head, that is.
“You little rascal. You’ve only learned weird things from Popcorn.”
When I poked it gently, Pudding began to tremble and move little by little.
Puru puru, left and right, then back to its original spot.
What on earth was it doing?
As I watched quietly, Pudding suddenly began shaking its body violently.
Could the spot I had stepped on have been a vital point? Or perhaps somewhere extremely important to a slime?
A little startled, I lifted it up. Its previously flattened body rose slightly.
Even so, it kept shaking.
“Are you okay?”
Maybe eating mice had given it an upset stomach.
Worried, I peered at it closely. For some reason, something inside Pudding’s body seemed to be glowing faintly.
That was when it happened.
“...Kkur... r....”
“....”
Huh? I thought I just heard something.
My head tilted on its own.
Strange. Slimes shouldn’t be able to talk.
“...Kkur... kkur....”
“Huh?”
This time I heard it clearly.
“...Kkur... kkur... kkur....”
Like a bicycle once it started rolling, Pudding suddenly began making sounds in rapid succession.
“You can make sounds.”
It didn’t even have eyes, a nose, a mouth, or a throat—where was the sound coming from?
The creatures of this world truly were fascinating.
Who would have thought a slime without a mouth could make noise, or that a spirit could be born from a person’s… well.
“Kkur... kkur... kkurrrk....”
Pudding slowly crawled across my palm and up to my wrist.
It occasionally rubbed what I assumed was its head against my skin. It seemed to be acting cute.
Eating mice was a bit much, but the way this round, squishy Pudding wriggled around was honestly adorable.
Happy that it could make sounds, I stroked its head.
If it even had a head, that is.
“Making sounds is amazing. Congratulations.”
“Kkur... kkur....”
As Pudding made sounds like it was answering, a small light suddenly shot over and struck it hard.
“Kkuuuuuuuugh....”
With a strange noise, Pudding went flying. In its place stood an angry-looking Popcorn.
These two really don’t get along.
“Don’t get mad. You’re family. You should get along.”
At my words, Popcorn stretched out both arms with a pitiful expression.
In his arms was a water droplet much larger than usual.
“Pipipi... pipi....”
It looked like he was complaining: I did something really hard, why won’t you praise me? Why are you only protecting that one?
No, you just brought back one water droplet from somewhere, while Pudding worked all day under the blazing sun. If I’m going to protect anyone, it should be Pudding.
When I smiled, Popcorn’s shoulders drooped.
He held the water droplet out to me as if pleading.
“Is this water for the Sprout? Good job.”
I lightly stroked Popcorn with my finger, but unlike usual, he kept holding out the water droplet, clearly wanting to say something.
Sorry, but since you and I can’t communicate with words at all, this is pointless no matter how hard you try.