Interspecies Exchange (2)
Exchanges between different living things are common enough.
Humans are the classic example.
People raise cattle and pigs for meat, keep dogs to guard their homes, train hawks and hounds for the hunt, keep sheep for wool to make clothes, and rely on horses or donkeys to haul heavy loads across long distances.
Yet this is never pure one-sided exploitation.
In return for being kept by humans, those animals gain a life of stability that wild nature can never match. They no longer need to wonder whether they will find food tomorrow. They are free from the constant threat of being hunted and killed. They receive shelter and care that let them endure scorching summers and freezing winters.
In the wild, only the chosen males get to pass on their bloodline. Livestock, unless humans are deliberately selecting superior stock for “improvement,” enjoy a far more equal chance to breed and continue their kind.
Simply by being raised by humans and proving useful, livestock obtain an endlessly secure “paradise.”
Ants keep aphids as livestock. Entirely different species form symbiotic partnerships and help one another survive. Such things happen all the time.
That is simply how life works.
Plants give birds and insects a portion of themselves as food so that their seeds can be carried far and wide. Beasts devour one another, and in doing so unknowingly ferry parasites from body to body, helping those parasites grow and lay eggs.
So when Chester looked at the scene unfolding before his eyes, he did not think it especially rare.
He merely wondered what the human-like creature wanted.
Calling it a human-like creature feels a little off, though.
Early that morning Chester rose and found the young master of the island had left a generous pile of fruit near their home. He studied the offering thoughtfully.
I decided we should stay a little longer by the lake because I still don’t know what good this exchange might do us…
Just what did the creature hope to gain by showing them such kindness?
Chester picked up a piece of fruit and ate while he considered.
It copied our campfire. It even tried to build a house the way we do.
Thinking of that, the answer seemed obvious.
Is it after the skills we possess?
That made sense. A creature this clever would never fail to recognize the value of the techniques Chester and Monia carried.
It looks physically powerful enough that most of our skills would be unnecessary to it…
After finishing the fruit, Chester loosened up with light stretches, then began proper training.
First, simple push-ups.
One reason he had chosen to linger by the lake was the young island master, but the greater reason was the mysterious power of the water itself. He intended to use its restorative force to rebuild the muscle and stamina he had lost during their long rest.
As a bonus, he planned to put Monia through training as well. When he had mentioned exercise the day before, she had agreed at once, saying she would welcome anything that could make her stronger faster.
What kind of training would suit Monia best? The butler academy method, maybe?
At the butler academy they drilled students relentlessly so that every posture and movement would be upright, clean, and perfect. They focused on the back, waist, and legs until a student could hold a straight, dignified stance at any moment.
Chester had grown up roaming the mountains, so his body was already conditioned and he passed the posture training without trouble. Children who struggled were forced to stand rigidly all night with iron plates strapped to their backs and legs—an education that bordered on torture.
Hearing my friends sobbing every night was hard.
“Maybe I don’t need to make Monia exercise after all…”
A rustling of leaves in the distance made him turn. Monia had just stepped out of the house and was stretching.
“Nngh~!”
She arched her back in a long, luxurious stretch, glanced around, spotted Chester, and came toward him with a bright smile.
“I woke up early today!”
Monia’s sleep schedule was wildly irregular. On rare occasions—countable on three fingers—she rose before Chester. On slightly less rare occasions—countable on ten fingers—she woke at roughly the same time. Far more often she slept much later than he did, and somewhat less often she woke only a little later.
That “a little later than Chester” was what she called waking up early.
Waking at the same time as him was remarkable. Waking earlier was a miracle.
“Really? The bed wasn’t uncomfortable or anything?”
“No!”
Monia usually “woke early” after they had replaced the moss mattress and she had tried some new arrangement for greater comfort—only to discover it was worse than before.
“Ah… it’s not uncomfortable.”
“Ahem.”
When she answered a little shyly that the bed was fine, Chester—who had lately taken to falling asleep with her held close—felt the corners of his mouth lift and covered the smile with a cough.
“Good. Then let’s eat breakfast and start training.”
“Yes!”
Let us digress for a moment and consider Chester’s face.
For a long time the kingdom’s nobility had not regarded his features as fashionable. Tastes change with the age, of course, but the current preference among the aristocracy ran toward faces as delicate and ethereal as angels, as finely wrought as works of art.
Chester, by contrast, looked unmistakably masculine.
He had inherited his father’s thick brows and high, sharp nose, his mother’s deep-set eyes and thin lips, and an overall angular cast to his features. If one were to compare him to an animal, the first images that came to mind were a wolf—or perhaps an eagle.
Long, well-proportioned limbs, large hands, broad shoulders, confident movement, and a clear, resonant voice that naturally drew the eye and ear.
“Monia.”
The soft, gentle voice calling her name sank deep into her chest, etching itself into her fading consciousness and her unconscious mind alike.
“Monia?”
She had been training hard, sweating freely, and had stripped off her outer layer because of the heat. The sweat running over her skin caught the sunlight and threw the lines of her muscles into sharp relief—it was a rather pleasant sight…
Slap.
“Hey! Snap out of it! Monia! Hey!”
…
“Damn it, what am I supposed to do in a situation like this? …Should I dunk her in the lake?”
…?
The world seemed to sway. Chester stood over her, his face hidden in deep shadow with the sun at his back.
While everything still rocked gently, a sudden, bone-deep chill—like ice being shoved down her spine—crashed over Monia.
“Kyaa-puh?!”
She screamed in shock and lake water flooded her mouth. Instinctively she flailed, then latched onto the first solid thing her hands found—Chester—and clung for dear life.
“Eek! What?! What is this?!”
“Oh, good, you’re back. Your eyes had completely glazed over.”
“Huh? What did you say?”
“Still not all there, are you? Your speech is weird.”
Monia stared blankly at Chester as he lightly patted her cheek, then turned her head toward the shore where she had been moments before.
“Ah.”
The flattened grass and the new shoots already pushing up between the crushed blades brought back the hell she had just experienced.
“Aaaah.”
Only then did she realize she had fainted while trying to keep up with Chester’s training.
“Sorry. That was too reckless of me.”
“N-no, it’s fine. It’s fine. Wait—hold on a second.”
She shook her head, insisting she was all right, then a hazy memory surfaced of how Chester had carried her after she collapsed.
“Aaaaaaah!”
“?!”
“Bridal carry!”
“What?”
“Bridal carry! Why did it have to be when I was out of it?! Aaaaah! I didn’t even get to enjoy it!!”
Yes—she was certain of it!
He had carried her in a bridal hold!
And she had been too far gone to feel a single second of it!!
“Why?! How could you?! Waaaaah!”
“D-don’t cry.”
“Ugh… my whole body itches and aches…”
“That’s just your muscles recovering fast.”
“It huuurts… I hate exercise…”
“There, there. Hang in there, okay?”
“Yeees.”
She buried her face against Chester’s chest and nodded meekly—then suddenly lifted her head.
She looked straight into his eyes and declared,
“I’ll work even harder at training, so please cheer me on.”
“Cheer you on?”
“Yes!”
“Uh… go for it, go for it.”
“Not like that! Something else! Something that fills me with motivation! Please!”
Chester thought for a moment. Something that would fill her with motivation… what could that be?
He briefly recalled how his father used to buy him toys whenever he succeeded on a hunt, but that was hardly what Monia wanted.
Back at the butler academy, everyone had their own story. Plenty of third and fourth sons with nothing better to do had enrolled. Others came from fallen houses and ground themselves down just to earn a living. There were fools who had gambled or chased expensive vices until their families cast them out and left them at the mercy of debt collectors. And then there was the scoundrel who had juggled more than ten young ladies at once, gotten caught, and fled to the academy to avoid having his throat cut and his belly stabbed.
Ah, right.
He remembered that same scoundrel boasting loudly in the dining hall about how to handle women.
I don’t remember the details clearly, but it was something about atmospheric words and displays of affection…
Well… should he give it a try?
Chester steeled himself for an act of embarrassment he had never once attempted in his life. Carefully he brushed Monia’s wet hair back from her face. Then he cupped her cheek with one hand and gently drew her closer.
“From now on… let’s do it together…”
With those words he pressed a careful kiss to her lips.
“…….”
When he finally drew back after a long moment, he found Monia slumped unconscious, a blissful, dopey smile on her face as if she had just taken some potent drug.
Ah. I meant to say “let’s exercise together,” but my tongue got twisted.
Supporting the limp Monia so she wouldn’t sink, Chester belatedly realized the full mortification of his slip of the tongue.