Recovery
Long ago, simply smoking refined mana herbs rolled into cigarette form was something ordinary for men and women of every age.
Of course, cigarettes made from mana herbs were an extremely expensive luxury, so ordinary commoners could scarcely touch them.
Yet for that very reason, merchants who dealt with the nobility poured their passion into raising the quality of their tobacco. The cigarettes of that era were refined with exquisite care, and side effects were all but nonexistent.
The fact that the very act of drawing smoke into the lungs was harmful to the respiratory system had been no great concern in the days when the gods still walked the world… that is, in the age when divine power was commonplace.
It was an era when any damage to the lungs could be healed with ease, so long as one paid the proper fee.
In the present age, where the gods have vanished without a trace, such a thing is nothing more than a dream.
And so Luke felt not the slightest strangeness in lighting a cigarette even inside a ten-year-old body.
In his own era, it had been only natural.
Therefore this treatment felt thoroughly unjust.
For me, of all people, to be spanked on the rear…
More than the pain, it was the sheer humiliation that kept him from opening his eyes.
He was nearly ready to cry.
To state the conclusion first: the cigarette he had poured so much heart and effort into creating had ended in complete failure.
His research into Yerna’s tastes had been insufficient, and his research into the present era had been equally lacking.
On top of that, the great mental energy he had expended in making it left him thoroughly exhausted.
The weariness that clung to Luke’s eyes stemmed from precisely that cause.
As a result his gaze had grown languid and half-lidded, his whole atmosphere loose and relaxed…
To Yerna it looked so peculiar that she half-wondered whether he had taken some sort of drug, yet Luke, who had not seen a mirror, had no way of knowing how he appeared.
“Lu, look at unni.”
Yerna gently lowered the two hands with which Luke had covered a face flushed scarlet with shame, and met his eyes.
She spoke firmly, as though scolding a child.
“Don’t ever do that again, all right?”
“I understand…”
“Say ‘I’m sorry.’ Repeat after me.”
“I’m… sorry.”
Luke’s voice trembled as he barely managed the words.
Seeing the expression that looked ready to burst into tears at any moment, Yerna’s heart softened once more.
Indeed, a faint sheen of moisture had gathered at the corners of Luke’s eyes.
Its cause was never the pain; it was pure, overwhelming embarrassment. But Yerna could not know that.
She only fretted that she might have struck too hard, and wrapped Luke gently in her arms.
“There. As long as you understand now, that’s enough.”
Luke let out a long sigh at her words and thought,
So in this era it is taboo for a child to smoke…
He truly had never dreamed of such a thing.
Of course, seeing how freely those crude cigarettes circulated, it was possible that the ones of this age were simply not meant for children to smoke.
Yet a perfectly refined one should have produced no side effects even if smoked…
Still, every time Luke urged her to try just once the cigarette he had made himself, Yerna’s hand grew sharp.
Perhaps she had found it galling. Well, that was only natural.
It was common enough for people to refuse to trust the efficacy of an elixir they had not made themselves.
An elixir, after all, had no proper way of proving its effects except by being used; the only real guarantee was how much one could trust the maker.
Long ago the name Luke Irushi had been more than sufficient guarantee…
Now, of course, it seemed otherwise.
Is it because I wear this body that she cannot trust me?
A ten-year-old girl’s body whose very origins were unknown…
Luke could only feel a quiet regret that he had failed to earn Yerna’s trust.
Because of it, he resolved that from now on he would never again manufacture elixirs in the form of something to be smoked, if only to avoid further misunderstanding.
Feeling the gentle strokes of Yerna’s hand along his back, Luke let out a sigh heavy with lament.
“Haa…”
Yet to Yerna’s ears that trembling sigh was more than enough to sound like someone enduring pain.
Did I hit him too hard?
She had done it for his own good, yet the thought that she might not have had the right to do so still lingered.
Perhaps there had been a better way.
Regret now was far too late, of course.
Still holding Luke, Yerna patted and stroked his back even more gently, and spoke in a soft voice.
“…Did it hurt?”
Her tone was utterly different from the one she had used while scolding him.
Luke gave a small shake of his head—careful not to let his horns brush her—and answered.
“It is not so…”
His reply was bitter.
Any pain of the body was far lighter than the wound this incident had left upon his heart.
Physical pain was a sensation with which he was quite familiar…
But this experience was something he had never once felt even in a previous life that had stretched beyond a hundred years—something entirely new.
In the past, no one would have dared to discipline Luke Irushi.
Who, and for what reason, would ever have laid a hand on the peerless genius mage, the eldest son of the influential Irushi family, the youngest graduate of the Academy?
Yet hearing Luke’s subdued voice, Yerna grew worried.
Perhaps she had wounded his heart.
Unwilling to let Luke remember her as a cruel elf, she briefly set him down, rummaged through the medicine box, and drew out a red recovery salve.
It was a common remedy for simple bruises and the like—an ointment that soothed inflammation and swelling and hastened recovery.
“Lu, shall we take a look at where you were hit? If it looks bad we’ll have to put medicine on it…”
At her words Luke flinched and waved both hands frantically.
“Th-that…! There is no need for such a thing! It does not even hurt so very much!”
“Even so.”
“I tell you there is no need to apply any medicine!”
No matter how firmly he insisted, Yerna showed no sign of yielding. At last Luke stretched a hand toward the red ointment she held.
“Ugh—then I shall apply it myself! That should settle the matter!”
“Can you put it on by yourself?”
“Of course I can!”
Luke all but snatched the recovery salve and vanished into the bathroom with it.
Yet Yerna found his behavior a little strange.
Was he suddenly embarrassed to show his bottom now?
They had bathed together; a bruised rear should hardly have been anything to hide.
To explain that, Luke had his own perfectly reasonable grounds.
Even in the past, having attendants assist with bathing had been commonplace.
For a noble who had lived as Luke had, the absence of such experience would have been the stranger thing.
Therefore, under the premise of bathing, baring one’s body had never been a cause for shame.
But having someone else apply medicine to one’s backside was an entirely different matter.
It was something he had never experienced, and something he had no desire to experience in the future.
It was simply too undignified.
Click. Luke closed the bathroom door, looked into the mirror, and pressed a hand to his forehead.
“Hoo… How in the world did I…”
He had only meant to do well, yet nothing had gone right.
Why was it that only things that made him feel sorry toward Yerna kept happening?
He had wanted to help her this time as well.
The result was a rear that still stung and burned.
Luke squeezed a suitable amount of the tube onto his hand.
Applying the medicine to his own backside brought a wave of self-loathing.
It felt as though he were fondling a body that was not his own…
He had thought he had grown quite used to it by now, yet the alien throb mixed into the sensation made it feel as unfamiliar and uncomfortable as it had on the very first day.
“Yerna, your hand is sharper than I expected.”
Click. The bathroom door opened again.
Yerna spoke to Luke in a worried tone.
“Did you put it on properly? Won’t you show unni just once?”
Luke recoiled at her words and put force into his voice.
“There is absolutely no need to worry about that! Do you think I would make a mistake even with something so simple?”
“Even so…”
“I said…”
This time Luke spoke with firm finality.
“Applying a bit of medicine is… a familiar enough task. There is no need for you to confirm it with your own eyes.”
With those words he headed for his room.
Familiar…?
Yerna froze at Luke’s choice of the word “familiar.”
Why would applying recovery salve be a “familiar” act?
She suddenly found herself wondering why Luke had been so determined to keep her from applying the medicine herself.
The almost desperate refusal of the ointment, the way he hid any sign of injury…
Something rose unbidden in her mind.
While Yerna stood lost in a shocking imagination, unable to collect herself, Luke spoke.
“I shall retire for now. Today has left me truly weary…”
The heavy weight that should never have belonged in a ten-year-old’s voice pressed down upon Yerna’s chest.
To her it sounded like a declaration that she was not to approach any further.
Yerna moved her uncooperative lips with difficulty and managed to form words.
“R-right… Sleep well, Lu…”
Rustle, rustle, rustle.
The sound of grass brushing against a body.
Soft, light steps.
No footfalls could be heard.
He lifted his head.
Sunlight filtering through the leaves felt wonderfully pleasant.
Whoosh… The wind that rose shook the leaves and then swept across his body like a comb.
And he realized.
Fluffy fur covering his entire body.
White, soft little legs…
—Nyaaa…
The vibration in his throat told him that the sound was his own voice.
A dream of becoming a cat?
An amusing dream indeed.
He found himself enjoying it.
The forest seen through a cat’s eyes was a landscape entirely new.
He leapt lightly, soaring between the branches, and chased butterflies that fluttered this way and that.
He batted at grasses swaying in the wind, and sang with the birds and the breeze for company.
Whenever he found a sun-drenched spot he simply curled up and stayed as long as he pleased.
Everything in the forest was kindly disposed toward him.
Thanks to that, being a cat was pure delight.
Since he knew it was a dream, he decided he might as well enjoy it to his heart’s content—and it was just then that the thought formed.
An ominous mana coiled around his entire body.
He could not move a single muscle.
“At last I have found you.”
Found him? Found what? Him? For what reason?
Countless questions became a single cry that escaped his mouth.
—Nyaaa!!
Ah. Right now I am a cat.
Unable to speak, he could not converse.
Without circles, magic was useless.
Looking around, every creature that might have helped him had fled without exception.
How had he failed to notice such an overwhelming presence at all?
A faint tremor ran through his body.
“Be still.”
Thud, thud—footsteps heavy and utterly different from his own.
And when the figure appeared, he could only stare in shock.
“It will be over soon enough.”
That figure was, without any doubt, Luke Irushi.
Luke Irushi opened his eyes.
“Mm… What in the world was that…”
Seeing himself through another’s eyes in a dream left a strange feeling.
It had been far too vivid to dismiss as mere nonsense.
Almost like…
A memory.
“Does it hold some meaning?”
Thinking carefully, that appearance had certainly been himself at the eighth circle.
He recalled dressing that way when he had visited the Demon Realm.
Yet why had he dreamed such a thing?
This may well be a clue to the memories I have lost.
Thinking it best to splash some water on his face and clear his head, Luke opened the door of his room.
And what met his eyes was…
Dark circles.
“Lu, did you sleep well?”
“Y-Yerna? H-have your nights been restless of late…?”
“Ah, I just had a few things on my mind…”
“This is rather serious…”