Reunion (4)
Bilua Village, and beyond it the church where we had once lived.
The fence that ringed the village to keep even the smallest monsters out.
The general store I had sometimes visited, and the alleys I had always cleaned as a child to earn a few coins.
The square packed with those hollow-headed bitches who had mocked Sister Flora. The horny little bastards who had snickered and fawned over them. The road I had taken searching for Sister Flora. The road I had taken to save Rhea. The alley where I had killed Loren and been dragged along like a half-dead beast.
At first the good thoughts and the memories of scraping by would surface, only to be swallowed at once by the disgusting ones.
Why had I wanted to come home?
There was nothing here that could be called a good memory. If you looked closely, it was only a place where hard and painful things had repeated themselves over and over.
Slap.
A gloomy feeling rose for no reason, so I gave my cheek a light slap. I did not want to return to the guild wearing a pitiful face or looking like I was struggling. There was no need to struggle in the first place.
I said I was happy, didn’t I?
Yeah.
That’s right. Really.
“…Haa.”
With a sigh I took another step. The stairs, the fence that circled the village, the adults who used to walk around looking so enormous—most of them were now smaller than me or about the same size. The big ones were nowhere to be seen.
I felt, all over again, how much time had passed. I had seen the same scenery once from the carriage, but I had arrived at the church three days past the memorial day. Because of that, I had never really taken it in properly.
I did not head straight through the slums to the guild. Since I had come all the way to Bilua Village, I at least wanted to greet the person who still remembered me. Was Clint doing well?
Everything had changed so much that I barely remembered the way, but I asked and asked and kept walking. Then the familiar general store where I had worked as a child came into view. Frost on the window.
I sneaked closer and wiped a little of it away. There was Clint. Clint… had never really been an “uncle,” had he?
It had been more than five years since I last saw him, yet he looked exactly as I remembered. Younger than I had thought, and wearing a kinder smile than I had thought.
I started to open the door at once, then stopped without meaning to. I wanted to say hello, but the thought that he might not remember me held me back.
If he didn’t remember, I could just buy whatever I needed for the guild and leave. If he did, I would greet him. I let the heavy feeling out with a light sigh and pushed the door open.
Ding-a-ling—.
The bell rang once, and Clint greeted me the way he always greeted customers, loud and bright: “Welcome!” I stood there awkwardly staring at him. He frowned for a moment, then tilted his head.
A look that could have been recognition or wariness. Suddenly he came toward me and asked,
“…Looking for something in particular?”
I had not even been inside a full minute.
“…Ah. I was going to make some stew.”
“…Stew? We don’t carry groceries, sir.”
“…Is that so? I’m sure this place used to sell food.”
Something doubtful in his eyes. But it was not aimed at me. It was closer to the confused look of someone wondering whether his own memory was wrong.
“…Haha, our shop has never sold anything like groceries…”
“…It has. Quite a long time ago. You even gave me fruit.”
“…F-fruit?”
“You gave me fruit, and you gave me a job. Don’t you remember me?”
At the words “fruit” and “job,” Clint seemed to think for a second.
Clap—!
“…Ah!”
He clapped his hands in surprise and his eyes went huge.
“Riel! It’s Riel, isn’t it?! How in the world did you grow so much, huh? And what’s with the scar!”
He laughed so brightly and pulled me into a light hug.
“…You finally recognize me?”
“Come on, that tiny little kid comes back this big—how am I supposed to know him at a glance!”
“I knew you right away.”
“That’s a completely different situation!”
“…Ahem.”
He cleared his throat.
“…Still, I figured it out and came over, didn’t I?”
“Clint. I’m glad you’re healthy.”
“You little—how old do you think I am already…”
Clint flustered around, then told me to wait a moment. He carefully wrapped several cuts of meat and a pile of vegetables and held them out to me.
“Huh? I… I don’t have money for this much right now.”
“It’s fine. Take them.”
He added a few more words. How could he send a welcome guest away empty-handed? How could he take money? And that the Tales Guild, because they had treated me so kindly, had been asking him regularly to supply potions.
The fact that Clint had been doing well had nothing to do with me, really… but the fact that the guild had looked after him still warmed my chest. I asked casually,
“…You know the people from the guild?”
“Of course I do. They should be coming soon…”
“…C-coming?”
“Potions are expensive, you know. The Master and the Deputy Master always bring a few guild members to pick them up. They were considerate of me—said they’d have to pass through the slums to reach the guild. Empty bottles are almost as expensive as the potions themselves, so they always bring the empties back.”
That was when it happened. I felt a presence outside. Even though I was much bigger now, I hid behind Clint without thinking.
Ding-a-ling—.
The bell rang. Familiar faces, only older. Back then I had thought they were complete adults; looking again, they were still quite young—a woman and a man.
“…Laika, Cronian! Do you know who’s here?”
Cronian and Laika stood there.
“…Huh?”
Laika still looked half-asleep, but the moment her eyes met mine that look vanished completely.
Crash—!
She dropped the empty bottles in shock; they shattered on the floor. She clapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes were wide, pupils shaking so hard I could see it clearly. Her breathing trembled a little, as if she were holding back tears.
“…N-no way.”
Cronian was worse. He had always seemed so loyal, reliable, manly. The second he saw me he sucked in a sharp breath and his eyes reddened. He looked even more emotional than Laika, who was a woman and usually more open with her feelings.
“…You… you son of a bitch…. You damn bastard. If you were alive, you should’ve found some way to contact us…!”
Cronian moved first. Whether he was trying to hide the sadness or simply angry, he scowled and strode toward me.
Thud—, thud—!
Footsteps as heavy as his big frame. Clint no longer shielded me; he stepped a few paces back. Cronian spread both arms wide and pulled me into a crushing hug. He did not ask if I was well, if I was hurt, nothing.
“…Thank god, Riel—. Really… thank god.”
He just held me tight and repeated the same words, as if the only thing that mattered was that I had come back. Laika was no different. She came a moment later, peeled me out of Cronian’s arms, and hugged me hard herself.
“…The rookie I picked couldn’t die—. That’s what I believed…. Welcome back. Thank god, Riel.”
Both of them kept saying welcome back, thank god—sobbing in a way that was not manly at all, sniffling in a way that was not Master-like at all, and holding me. Something complicated stabbed my chest; my eyes closed on their own. If I opened them, something would spill out, so I kept them shut tight and spoke.
“…Cronian’s sword…. You told me to bring it back. How could I die?”
I said it like a joke, and both Laika and Cronian laughed. Clint had known I was connected to the guild, but apparently he had never heard I was an actual member. He looked at me with eyes even more startled than when he had first recognized me and scratched his cheek.
“…You… you little bastard. I never thought you’d send a kid to a battlefield…!”
When the word “battlefield” slipped from Laika’s mouth, Clint nearly fainted. No one hated or looked down on those who had gone to war; a certain awe, even respect, now sat in his eyes. He went deeper into the shop to fetch something more, while Cronian and Laika checked me over from head to toe.
“No injuries…. Hic… good…”
Laika shook her head hard to throw off the tears, slapped her own cheeks a few times, then dashed out of the store in a hurry.
“…A banquet. Yeah. We’re throwing a party tonight, Cronian.”
“Riel’s an adult now, so I’ll prepare drinks as well.”
Shards of glass from the bottles lay all over Clint’s shop. When I tried to clean them up he told me to just go. I felt like an honored guest. They sat me in the best seat of the carriage, called out the guild members who were off duty and resting, and escorted me toward the slums as if I needed a full guard.
When they first came outside they all looked exhausted. Then they saw me…
“…Riel, hah—, fuck. Riel? Are you really Riel?”
“…Do you have any idea how much Big Sis worried? You little shit…. Was writing one letter to the guild that hard!?”
Each of them welcomed me with their own reaction, their own feelings. On the road the carriage took toward the slums, the path that led to the church came into view. My heart dropped with a heavy thud.
“…What, want to stop by the church once?”
Cronian lightly tapped the shoulder that had been turned toward the church and asked.
“…No. It’s fine.”
I swallowed the words I wanted to say. You wanted me to leave, didn’t you—. They’re already gone by now, anyway—.
“…I already met them.”
The ugly feeling I had been carrying would not disappear. Yet it was true that my heart felt heavy even in a happy moment.
“…Cronian, the sword…. I used it well. I don’t even know how many times it kept me alive.”
Just to push the gloom away, I held the sword out to him. Cronian smiled and brushed his hair back.
“…That’s yours now, Riel.”
I had never told Laika I would return hers either.
“…My dagger’s yours too.”
Laika smiled as she said it. Warmth seemed to soak into my heart; a little happiness filled the empty place in my chest. But the more happiness I felt, the stranger it was that everyone else rose in my mind.
Rhea.
Ceria.
Claudia.
I had wanted you to welcome me like that, to greet me like that. If you were hurting, I had wanted you to lean on me and say it hurt too much. If you felt guilty, I had wanted you to tell me so I could forgive you.
That was why the words and actions that seemed to hope I would leave with Lediche were even harder to understand. The lies that you were happy, the way you put yourselves down—slum-born, orphan, wolf-beastkin—I really could not understand any of it.
Why did you lie to me?
Why… did you want me to leave…?
The thought that suddenly rose made my head spin. I could not sort anything out. The warmth beside me was gentle, yet somewhere inside I felt hollowed out and empty.
She received a hero’s welcome.
The people of Rueshatia Territory scattered flowers along the road as the carriage returned. They cheered because the sole blood of the Rueshatia family, the one who would become head of the house, had come home. Already the rumor had spread that she was certain to receive a “merit,” and they chanted Lediche’s name again and again.
No one had actually expected her to achieve anything. When Baron Köln died, many of the territory’s people had left. Those who had stayed and still believed in Rueshatia wept, cheered, and rejoiced.
Step—, step—.
Lediche Rueshatia, young mistress of the Rueshatia family, stepped down from the carriage. A cold wind scattered her hair; the uniform that proved she had returned from the battlefield shone without a single wrinkle under the sunlight.
The girlish look was gone without a trace. Her eyes had grown sharper, yet the impression was not harsh. The feminine curves that five years on the battlefield had given her could not be hidden even by the uniform.
“Lediche Rueshatia—!”
No one fails to welcome the master of a territory who has returned. Especially when that master is a living hero of the kingdom who went to war and came back; even those who had left the territory returned to chant her name.
Lediche raised a hand and waved so everyone would know she was home. Yet the tips of her fingers trembled, and the sharpened eyes gradually drooped as if speaking of sorrow.
…Riel.
Lediche looked at the crowd that had gathered to greet her. She was supposed to smile, yet she could not manage one at all.
Her father, who had planted wildflowers along every path for her because she loved them even in the dead of winter, was gone. The knights of Rueshatia who had given their full loyalty to her and the house were gone.
Above all, the one who had saved her when she was sold into the slums— the one who had been her support on the battlefield, who had cared for her and cherished her again and again… Riel was not here.
“…I have lost too much. Rather than cheers, I would like a time of mourning.”
In the end Lediche spoke to her retainers and had the crowd dispersed. She entered the mansion, walked into the clean bedchamber her retainers had prepared, and lay down.
She looked at the rings on her fingers. Riel had never said he would never see her again for the rest of his life, so someday she would give them back.
The ring on her ring finger was her wish. The ring on her thumb was guilt and longing for Riel.
I should have fallen out of the carriage and rolled on the ground. I should have gotten hurt on purpose. I should have used his kindness even a little.
After thinking that for a moment, Lediche turned onto her side and covered her face with both hands.
“…Hic—, huuk—…. This… wasn’t what I wanted…”
Everyone had welcomed her; everyone had chanted the name of the young mistress of Rueshatia who had returned. Lediche only sobbed. They had been apart for barely a day, yet her chest hurt so much.
That Riel had grown distant from his family because of her. That Riel’s family, for some reason, had looked at “her” and wished for them to leave together, so they had forced themselves to support it. Simply that Riel, who had always been at her side, was not here. Not one of those things failed to hurt her.
Knock—, knock—, knock—.
“Young Mistress, why did the gentleman who was to become a knight not return with you?”
Even when the butler asked carefully, Lediche did not answer. She simply kept sobbing.
“…A knight must be issued a sword and equipment bearing the Rueshatia crest. If he is merely away on personal business for a short while, I will prepare equipment of appropriate value to present at the banquet when meritorious service is rewarded.”
Banquet.
At that word Lediche finally pushed herself up.
Riel had drawn away from her because his family was unhappy and because she had lied to him. If the family members who had been adopted into noble houses attended the banquet… she could apologize, receive forgiveness—and perhaps Riel would stay by her side again. If she showed him the children becoming happy, Riel would forgive her and come back to her.
“…A-are you still outside?”
Lediche staggered to the closed door.
“…Th-the children we sent for adoption…. Those children will… a-attend the banquet too, right…? R-Riel will definitely attend as well, won’t he?”
She forced the sorrow down and asked in a deliberately bright voice.
“…You mean Miss Rhea, who became the adopted daughter of House Runier, Miss Claudia of House Argent, and Miss Ceria of House Priella? They are not on the guest list, but given the nature of the occasion they will most likely attend.”
“…Th-that won’t do! You must invite them. An uncertain answer like ‘most likely’ is not acceptable. Tell them I will apologize and that I will properly compensate them for the interrupted patronage. That is an order.”
“…Understood, Young Mistress.”
The butler answered.