A Truly Good Book
Dantalion accepted the Sermon Note from Jijang Bosal.
He stared fixedly at the cover plastered with cute stickers, then opened the notebook.
The pages began turning of their own accord, as if the book itself were alive.
“That’s a bit much. I wrote this notebook out by hand for my friend—couldn’t you show a little more care?”
“Which is why I’m reading it with my eyes instead of stuffing it into my body.”
Simply reading the contents rather than absorbing them was already consideration enough.
After roughly three minutes of examining the entire notebook, Dantalion set it down on the desk.
Looks can be deceiving—the contents are quite substantial.
Outwardly it resembled an old-fashioned exchange diary from decades past, yet the wisdom within ran far deeper.
Then again, if one compiled the whole of Jijang Bosal’s lifetimes, even a light style could produce excellent writing…
“What are you doing now?”
“Hmm? My makeup seems to have smudged a little, so I was fixing it. Pay it no mind.”
“……”
Having realized too much, he was often hard to understand, yet the writing that held his wisdom was truly splendid.
Far more beneficial, needless to say, than the wisdom of humans who had only ever brought harm to the world.
Still, one small worry remained.
“There won’t be any chance of Yoanna attaining enlightenment from reading this, will there?”
It was precisely the depth of Jijang Bosal’s awakening.
Jijang Bosal was the being who bestowed enlightenment and salvation upon the sinners of Hell.
Writings from such a person—no, such a woman—might lead Yoanna, upon encountering the book, to attain enlightenment and depart for the heavens at a young age.
At the question laden with that concern, Jijang Bosal burst into peals of laughter.
After laughing for quite some time, she dried her tears with a wave of her hand and spoke.
“Aren’t you overestimating me a little too highly?”
“There isn’t a single soul in Hell who underestimates you.”
“How very flattering. Still, don’t worry. You know as well as I that enlightenment doesn’t come so easily.”
Enlightenment was not something that arrived in an instant simply because someone told you about it.
If teachings alone could grant easy enlightenment, Jijang Bosal would have attained Buddhahood long ago.
As if acknowledging the truth of her words, Dantalion nodded.
He held out a scroll he had purchased in Pride Hell.
“Will this truly be enough? The value of this notebook is far higher than this.”
“Hahaha! The value of a thing differs from person to person, does it not?”
Laughing heartily, Jijang Bosal took the scroll. Yet the gaze she turned upon it did not look particularly pleased.
It was a bitter look, as if regarding a sore finger.
“It is only sad that my learning is still insufficient to save them.”
“……”
Why try to save trash?
Having lived long years as Chief Justice, Dantalion could not easily understand Jijang Bosal.
He believed what the wicked needed was punishment rather than salvation.
Honestly, he hoped she would set down that heavy burden and ascend to the heavens…
“Well, still, I believe that someday I will be able to save everyone!”
“Is that so.”
The Jijang Bosal Dantalion knew was not one to give up so easily.
Having recovered her spirits, she chattered at length about her current life before taking her leave.
After seeing her off, Dantalion returned to his office and gazed at the notebook she had given him.
But… could he hand it over to Yoanna in this state?
Meeting the eyes of the yellow mouse sticker on the cover, Dantalion let out a small sigh.
Better to remake it with a bit more formality. Change the form to a scroll as well.
He was not particularly fond of authoritarian things, yet there was the dignity of the Chief Justice to consider.
Dantalion’s face was not thick enough to gift Yoanna a notebook so thoroughly decorated.
Of course, converting the notebook into a scroll would increase the bulk…
It’s a spirit beast, so it should manage.
Dantalion decided to trust Noir.
Surely it wouldn’t die from something like this?
After failing a few more times at making friends, Yoanna changed her plan.
She decided to entrust entirely to an expert those things she could not do herself.
Naturally, the expert who would help Yoanna was Messela.
After all, who else would one turn to for help while leaving aside a well-known popular figure in the city?
Delighted to accept Yoanna’s request, Messela first…
“Now then, shall we try making the sandwiches to hand out to the orphanage children ourselves? Be careful when holding the knife, and even if it’s slow, putting heart into it is what matters.”
…decided to teach her how to cook.
Wearing an apron, Yoanna asked Messela with an awkward expression.
“Do I really have to make them myself? The ones you make are tastier, Miss Messela.”
Her question was quite reasonable. When it came to cooking skill, Messela was naturally far superior.
A wife who prepared a loving lunchbox for her husband every morning could hardly lack for technique.
Even considering the children’s tastes, sandwiches made by Messela would surely be better.
Yet Messela shook her head.
“Taste is important, but to open the children’s hearts, the first thing you must put in is sincerity. If you leave this to someone else’s hands, you will never win their hearts.”
In opening a person’s heart, the taste of food mattered less than one might think.
What truly mattered was the sincerity of having made it for the other person.
Especially when the absence of parents made things hard, that sincerity stirred the heart more deeply than at any other time.
Messela mashed potatoes by hand as she spoke.
“If you’re only thinking of using the children to gain popularity, it’s fine to stop. Even without doing something like that, Miss Yoanna, you can be loved plenty.”
Her words contained not a single lie. Messela herself had once been satisfied with love that was not sincere.
She was also confident she could turn Yoanna into the flower of high society within a few days.
But was that the path Yoanna wanted?
“I was shortsighted. I’ll try it as you say, Miss Messela.”
Of course it was not.
Having escaped the temptation of the easy path, Yoanna resolved to take it seriously.
Gripping the masher, she pressed the potatoes firmly and concentrated on peeling the shells from dozens of eggs.
Naturally, being her first time, preparing the ingredients was not easy.
Many parts of the potatoes remained unmashed, and many eggs were ruined from being peeled with the shells still on.
Yet all of it was within Messela’s expectations.
“Still, you did well for a first try! Now shall we mix in the pickled vegetables, spread them on the sandwiches, and top them with bacon?”
Messela was an even better teacher than expected.
Helping the clumsy Yoanna while finishing her own share with ease, Messela stacked the sandwiches neatly in a basket.
After laying a cloth over them, she led Yoanna to the bathroom.
“I-I can wash by myself!”
“Washing and grooming are separate domains. Stay still!”
Messela washed Yoanna thoroughly from head to toe, applied oil, and began meticulously grooming her.
Naturally, Yoanna, accustomed to washing alone, felt nothing but embarrassment.
Having endured that teasing that was not quite teasing, Yoanna emerged from the bathroom smelling more fragrant than usual.
If it had ended there, it might have passed as merely a somewhat tiring day…
“It would be good to wear this. This plain white dress will soften Miss Yoanna’s beauty, don’t you think?”
“You mustn’t forget to smile. Children are sensitive and pick up on moods easily.”
“How about softening your way of speaking a little? Now, try following me.”
Messela was more earnest than expected.
Enduring Messela’s crash course in a daze, Yoanna found herself thinking unbidden:
Catching criminals was far easier!
Was this also a trial bestowed by Lord Dantalion?
Having the initiative seized by Messela, Yoanna was dragged all the way to the orphanage before she knew it.
Looking at the children who came out to greet them with bright faces was rather enjoyable…
“Kids? You should play with Big Sister Yoanna too, right?”
“But…”
“Big Sister Yoanna is hard to approach.”
“Yeah.”
The children, having eaten their fill of sandwiches, could not bring themselves to approach Yoanna.
And no wonder—while handing out the food, Yoanna had not managed to utter a single word.
With a pretty big sister staring at them silently with a smiling face, the children were too shy to open their mouths.
In the end, Yoanna spent the whole day only helping with the orphanage work before returning.
Naturally, Messela had also noticed Yoanna’s problem.
It had been an oversight not to anticipate that a child who spoke well only with adults would fail to grow close to peers.
Messela spoke to Yoanna, who was trudging upstairs.
“Don’t worry too much! Once you mingle with the kids a bit more, your tongue will loosen right up!”
“Yes…”
Yoanna, left without even the strength to speak, answered halfheartedly.
After a rough wash in the bathroom, she headed to her room with her hair still damp.
She wanted to rest. At times like this, it would be nice to have a doll that resembled Lord Dantalion.
Thinking that, she opened the door.
“Guh, gwaaaak…!”
“N-Noir!?”
Her only friend, Noir, had a large scroll jammed in its beak and was drooling freely.
Yoanna felt her mind go blank.
A spirit beast’s body is sturdy.
But that did not mean it was easy to spit out something larger than its jaw joint could handle.
With Yoanna’s help, Noir spat out the scroll and pressed its jaw repeatedly with its wings.
Master is too much! This is abuse!
Thinking that and cawing, Yoanna held out a honey-coated peanut.
Aside from the pain, it was uninjured, so Noir grew thoroughly excited and savored the peanut. It seemed to have already forgotten the hurt.
Stroking Noir’s head, Yoanna examined the scroll.
Flutter.
Just then, a slip of paper fell from between the scroll.
“This is…?”
Picking up the note, Yoanna read the letters written in the corner and her eyes lit up.
Dantalion.
The very pillar that supported Yoanna’s heart had sent her a personal message.
She felt her fatigue vanish completely, vitality surging through her.
“───!!!”
Muffling the scream of joy that burst forth with a pillow, Yoanna pounded the bed wildly.
Thud thud thud!
Under strength trained to the level of a knight’s squire, the bed shrieked.
Startled by the sound, Messela hurriedly came upstairs and opened the door.
“Miss Yoanna! What on earth…?”
“What happened? I was meditating and didn’t hear anything.”
Quickly hiding the scroll and note, Yoanna blinked her half-lidded eyes demurely.
One of the bed legs had creaked from the earlier impact, yet Messela failed to notice.
Apologizing with a puzzled expression, Messela closed the door, and Yoanna swiftly unfolded the note.
Noir has conveyed your troubles well. As it happens I received something fine from a dear friend, so as a reward for your efforts thus far I send this gift—
“How can he be so kind!”
Without even finishing reading, Yoanna flushed and grinned foolishly.
It was no wonder—her lord had not only sent a handwritten letter but a gift as well.
And when the one she regarded as a god was the sender, how much more so.
Opening the secret space within her bed, Yoanna cleared away all the wanted posters and prepared a place for the single note.
After burning the wanted posters, she calmed her heart and unrolled the scroll.
Yet…
“The Art of Conversation, One Hundred Ways to Captivate a Person’s Heart…?”
The title was a little strange.