101 – Forgiveness and Reconciliation #3
“Joy, we've opened a branch here at Pandora Market too! It's the second location of Happy Flower Shop! Please patronize us often from now on!”
Kshalri, Crates's wife and a colleague from my Happy World days, visited the development headquarters at Pandora Market and handed me her business card.
Thanks to the recent boom in flower accessories, the floral business had exploded into hyperdrive, and they were riding the wave with aggressive expansion.
I poked my head out the window and scanned the passersby. Plenty of folks were decking out their arms, necks, and heads with flowers like trendy ornaments. This Soul Society fashion scene is a real head-scratcher sometimes.
“Can't wait to get one for the wife. Penelope's gonna love it.”
Even Odysseus, who I'd pegged as utterly indifferent to flowers, had bought a flower crown somewhere and wrapped it up fancy in premium paper.
No clue how this craze even started, but thanks to some recent experiences, it didn't sit entirely comfortably with me.
The flower headband on that first-floor variety shop owner. It felt linked to all these circulating accessories. No, I was dead certain. There was a connection. My life had always been like that—ignore it at your peril.
“Chairman, I'll head out for fieldwork this afternoon and clock out after.”
“Go ahead. The deadline on Lady Pandora's challenge is today, right? Better hustle. Though knowing you, you've probably got it all squared away already!”
“No such thing.”
“Haha, no need to be modest around this Odysseus. You're the bravest, sharpest guy I've ever seen! Thanks to you, even I get to head home today!”
The chairman, who used to mope with despair and defeat when we first met, was now a grinning skeleton through and through.
Word was, he'd sworn not to go home until Pandora Market revived. Now that it had buzzed back to life and earned everyone's nod, he was thrilled at the prospect of family time.
Meanwhile, I'm the one who might never make it back to my Earth home because of this market's revival.
Still, variables could pop up. I needed to dig into the source of this flower accessory fad.
“……!”
At the snack shop, sweet-natured nymph Echo greeted customers with a flower crown perched on her head. She looked vibrant and cheerful—quite the sight.
“That on Echo's head? I lined up from last night till dawn for the real deal. Not some market knockoff—this is authentic!”
Narcissus spun his all-night vigil like an epic hero's tale. Just as I'd suspected. With how much he doted on her, Agent Nar would absolutely snag a flower accessory for Echo—and the genuine article, no less.
“Who's selling these 'genuine' ones?”
“Joy, this stays between us. That flower crown? Straight from a Happy World prison. Crowzer pulled strings.”
Corruption central. Brazenly illegal, and they don't even get pinched. Job security's a hell of a perk.
I headed straight to where Happy World's prisoners were held.
“Joy!”
“Long time!”
The skeleton guards recognized me and waved hello. Normally, entering the prison block meant jumping through hoops, but my long stint at Happy World meant no such hassle for me.
Soon, I locked eyes with a man in the special prisoner wing. His blue eyes lit up with joy at the sight of me.
“J-Joy. T-To meet like this again... I-I really wanted to see you.”
“Paris. Heard you got fired from the Monster Pen and locked up. Didn't expect you here. Prison treating you okay?”
“N-Not at all. B-But it's my fault, so I can't blame anyone. H-Hiding and raising those hell cockroaches on the sly... I-I'm the one who should apologize to you. Y-You got demoted because of me...”
He slumped, shoulders drooping.
“A-Anyone who gets tangled with me always ends up screwed. E-Everything I touch turns to failure... I even drag down the people around me. S-So maybe it's better if I just stay locked up.”
For a moment, I saw myself in him. A serial failure of a man. Just pointing in different directions.
“Joy, I'm g-gonna become a g-ghost. S-Someone like me... b-better to forget everything and be forgotten. T-Tonight. I'll turn into a ghost tonight...”
Embracing the ghostification curse everyone dreaded. No urge to meddle in his choice.
But I had to say this much.
“Paris, if you truly feel sorry before ghosting out, make me one thing. Pour your deepest love and care into it. My life's on the line.”
“L-Life...!?”
###
The woman in the turban-faced scarf gazed at the setting sun, prepping to close shop. No customers all day—just dust motes dancing—but her life stayed hectically busy, as if constant motion could shake off the thoughts crowding her mind.
Creak—
Someone pushed open the door. The familiar aura jolted her.
“...You.”
But as the man stepped from the sun's shadow, relief mixed with faint disappointment. She'd mistaken him for someone else.
“Oh, it's you, Joy.”
“Who else would visit a ghost town like this? Market's booming, but this spot's still deader than ever.”
“If you're just here to spout nonsense, get out. Closing time.”
“One hundred million.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Come to pay it back. Was gonna let it slide, but I can't live with debts hanging over me. Want to leave this place with a clean slate.”
He pulled a small jade box from his pocket. Inside: a headband woven from white wildflower stems.
“Ah...!”
Its shape was achingly familiar. The faint fragrance wafting from those flowers—
“This is the Oinoe flower.”
The boy said. The girl, lost in thought, startled. Blinking sleepy eyes, she realized the cramped variety shop had vanished. Now, sheep grazed amid wildflower meadows.
A dream? Dazed, she rubbed her eyes.
“What? What'd you say?”
“Naming this flower. How about Oinoe flower? We found it together. So, after your name. What do you think?”
She pondered his words. Her mind foggy, like waking from a long dream—but it cleared fast. This was what mattered.
“Then Paris flower works too. Our discovery—better to name it after you than me. Oinoe? Sounds ridiculous no matter how I spin it...”
“Planning to change your name when you grow up?”
Nymphs often shed childhood names upon maturity. Like the ditch nymph Euryol, Orpheus's lover, becoming Eurydice.
Oinoe thought her name silly and vowed to change it someday.
But young Paris seemed bummed.
“I like how fun it sounds. Oinoe. But whatever name you take as an adult, our days won't change. Herding sheep, admiring flowers—that's us.”
With clumsy hands, Paris plucked Oinoe flowers, weaving them into a wreath. Wishing these days would loop forever.
But fate can be cruel enough to chill even the gods.
Paris became the judge awarding the golden apple to the fairest goddess, fleeing with the world's most beautiful woman, Helen.
Former girl Oinoe wept endlessly through those tragic days, until not a drop remained.
Love turns to sorrow; sorrow to hate.
Her grudge became a curse, hunting the promise-breaking boy.
Paris's life spiraled into endless failure, every venture a blunder, outcomes catastrophic. Getting struck by a Hydra-poisoned arrow? Inevitable.
“Oinoe... I-I'm dying... Y-You can cure Hydra poison, right...?”
Dying from the venom, he sought his long-lost love.
But Oinoe no longer existed in the world.
“I've forgotten that name. Forgotten how to cure Hydra poison. All that's left is resentment and hate.”
Curing Hydra poison required a special nymph's tears.
But her eyes, drained from endless crying, were bone-dry.
“...Oinoe, I should've never left Mount Ida with you.”
Paris passed.
It was what betrayed, abandoned Oinone craved.
Not what the girl picking wildflowers with him amid sheep had wished for.
Seeing the headband she couldn't discard stirred old memories—days of laughter and joy.
“...What have I done?!”
Overwhelmed, she couldn't turn from her other half.
She chased after Paris—but too late.
“So, that's the hundred million repaid.”
Snapping back, the stranger turned to leave the shop. Ice gripped her throat; she shivered.
“...Where did you get this?”
“Only one place for a criminal. Say what you need to before tonight. Ghost at midnight, and it's too late.”
Whoosh—!
She bolted without another word.
###
Ding-a-ling.
The shopkeeper Oinone dashed out, bell jingling fiercely. Only then did relief wash over me.
Big debts might snag me with guilt when I finally escape this underworld for Earth. Just tying up loose ends. That's all.
I liked what I'd done for once.
Ding-a-ling.
The door bell rang again.
“Closed today. No more business.”
“Rookie, you know my challenge deadline's tonight, right?”
It was plump, fluffy ghost matron Lady Pandora, squeezing her massive form inside.
“In this Soul Society, no poison rivals a 'nymph's grudge.' Only forgiveness and reconciliation from the source can antidote it. That's the sole cure.”
“...No idea.”
“Adult nymphs live eternally on sparks of memory tinier than starlight. As long as those linger, they're immortal. That's what makes them adults.”
All adult nymphs carry memories, huh. Echo, Eurydice—did they hold unforgettable ones?
Does Lady Melinoë, the adult nymph-goddess, have such memories?
Maybe not. She's a goddess first.
Then Lady Pandora smacked my back.
“Joy. Congrats. You'll head back to HQ soon.”
Oof— Back sting, gut churn. But I'd half-intended this outcome.
Pandora Market's small potatoes. Trouble here stays minor-scale. For a firing to stick, HQ's the spot.
To make waves, swim in deep waters. Time to return to the big pond.
“Manager Joy from now on. First to bounce back from demotion and get promoted. You earned it, kid.”
...Manager!? Can I back out now!?
Nooooo!
I bolted from the shop, unable to hold back!
###
Pandora was the oldest ghost.
She'd watched countless souls arrive in Soul Society, fade away.
But a living human strolling its halls? Exceedingly rare, even for her.
Thus, each encounter with Joy left her awed at his oddity and prowess.
Though he seems oblivious.
The ancient ghost closed her eyes.
Before her, visions sharpened then dissolved: a boy and girl hand-in-hand amid the lively market bustle.
How would the wayward boy's tale unfold now?
The fairy's story, cradling starlight from eons past.