Not as One Without Direction (1)

"Yes, I'm coming—."

One day, Ninomae Hitomi was half-sprawled on the sofa at home with the television on, idly rolling about, when the doorbell rang. She could have sent her familiars to answer, but she pushed herself upright. If it was a guest, it was only proper that the lady of the house do the greeting; if it was a delivery, someone would have to sign. Either way, she was needed.

At a flick of her hand the bats came fluttering over and fetched the thin cardigan from a nearby chair. She was home, after all, comfortable in nothing but shorts and a T-shirt—but she could hardly present herself to someone else looking like that.

"Delivery. This is the Han Seoyeon residence, correct?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Your signature here, please."

She opened the door, and the muggy air of high summer rushed in. Three wooden crates were stacked outside, and the courier who had hauled them stood there pouring sweat.

"They're heavy. Shall I carry them farther inside?"

"No, it's all right."

Hitomi signed to confirm receipt, and in that interval he shifted the crates just inside the entryway. Thinking, perhaps, that the weight was a good deal for a woman to lift, he had offered the courtesy; she declined it. If a human man could carry the load, she could manage it without trouble—and if it came to that, there were always the familiars.

Once she was sure the door had shut, Hitomi drew again on her vampiric power and called the bats, then looked over the three crates stacked before her. Wooden boxes, each bearing a handle-with-care warning. From the sound they had made when set down, they were not only considerably heavy, but seemed to hold something made of glass.

"Glass bottles?"

She guessed as much even as she hoisted one of the crates. It was not especially small, and yet it was heavy even for its size. The courier had certainly had reason to ask.

She set the familiars to bringing the other two, then lowered the crates in the living room. After a moment's hesitation, she opened one. The parcel was addressed to Han Seoyeon, but the possibility that it might be food had occurred to her, and in weather like this it would spoil in no time. Seoyeon had gone to the church on some errand; that morning she had said she likely would not be back until evening was well along.

That the sender was Giacomo Marchisio—Seoyeon's master, the one who doesn't shoot beams—also tipped the scales. A colleague of the Church who already knew the two of them were living together would surely have given warning in advance, or sent the thing to the church outright, if it were something Hitomi was not meant to open on a whim.

What revealed itself once the lid came off was a grid of divided compartments, packed tight with wine bottles standing on end.

"Huh?"

Four across and three deep to a crate. Thirty-six bottles of wine in all. Why send so much? That was the first thought that struck her. A moment later she drew one bottle free and turned it this way and that. There was not even a label. So calling it wine might itself have been a mistake; she had only assumed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that a bottle of this shape would be wine.

"—Ah. Now that I think of it, Master did say he would be sending some."

How matters stood, Hitomi learned only after Han Seoyeon returned that evening.

"This many? It is wine, at least?"

"By classification, yes, it is wine… sparkling wine. It may be easier to understand if I call it champagne."

Strictly speaking, champagne names only the finest sparkling wines produced in the Champagne region, though people commonly take the word for sparkling wine in general. Hitomi had tilted her head at sparkling wine alone, but the moment the familiar word appeared, her eyes ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠went wide.

"Th-that's incredibly expensive, isn't it?"

Something that costly, and this much of it? Her eyes said as much. To begin with, in East Asia wine itself carried a vague reputation for being refined and ruinously expensive. Even so, compared with years past, more people these days had come around to feeling that at these prices one might indulge now and then—the world having become a place where a bottle of fifteen or twenty-five dollars could be had without any trouble.

"To assume that sparkling wine is expensive without exception is a prejudice… but as Master made this himself, there is no question it is of the highest grade."

All the same, add the word champagne and a great many people still felt it must cost a fortune. Hitomi appeared to be one of them. Champagne is, of course, counted among the very peaks of sparkling wine—and yet not every sparkling wine that people carelessly call champagne is staggeringly expensive. In this particular case, though, the liquor was of a sort that could reduce even that champagne to a trifle, so the impression was not far wrong.

"When you say Master made it, do you mean…"

"Yes. You are aware of it as well, are you not, Hitomi? The miracle of turning water into wine."

Hitomi nodded. It was one of the miracles of Jesus, famous enough that even those who never set foot in a church had heard of it in passing, and the miracle commanded by Giacomo, Seoyeon's master, was precisely that. Turning every attack that came flying in into bread and wine, and thereby gaining immunity to nearly all physical blows—thinking on that manner of combat even now, one had to wonder whether the man was entirely in his right mind. But be that as it may.

"Being the work of a miracle, its flavor is rumored to be extraordinary. In ordinary times he even raises funds with it."

What he produced not merely as a byproduct of battle, but by preparing the conditions and setting out in earnest to make it, had even been judged the most ideal wine. The praise was already that high, and because the man had a vocation of his own the yield was never large, so the stuff was notorious as something for which one named one's price—no, as something that money alone could not obtain. Only because he himself lived poor in spirit, and austere. Had he merely wished it, he could have swept money up by the rakeful. Had he done so, he would very likely have surpassed Wei Chen—who wrung a demon to conjure petroleum out of nothing—and become the wealthiest of Han Seoyeon's acquaintances.

Of course, the further Seoyeon's explanation went, the more Hitomi's question only grew: why in the world send something so precious in such quantity?

"He said to use it as the aperitif at the reception."

"Ah… so that was it."

Only then did she have an answer for why so much was required, and she nodded. He had sent enough to cover every guest; of course there would be a great deal. The quantity and the sum were still enough to blank her mind white, but if she thought of it as a millionaire laying out a fortune to mark the wedding of a dear friend's daughter, she could at least understand the motive. Even granting that, he had sent too much. Hitomi smiled wryly.

Weddings in Japan run quite small. Family and relatives together, the average guest list comes to fifty or sixty, and even a large one rarely passes a hundred—already, in Korea, the category people call a small wedding. One simply does not invite anyone who is not truly close. Even at Anathema Production, not every member of the staff had received an invitation. And considering that Hitomi's own circle, setting aside those she had met through Han Seoyeon, was limited to the company, the number of guests was bound to be small. All the more so, since ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠not everyone who received an invitation would actually attend.

"Still, it's clear he sent far too much."

Hitomi said so, scratching her cheek. It had been sent as an aperitif, but with so few people drinking, there was in truth enough to accompany the meal from beginning to end.

"Ah. That would be rather a problem."

At those words, however, Han Seoyeon looked troubled.

"Why? Does the course we prepared not go with this wine?"

"No. Were that the trouble, the proper choice would be to scrap the menu."

When one is drinking wine dearer than its weight in gold, if the food does not suit, changing the meal is the obvious decision, even should it mean an added expense.

"A rule… mm. Then there's nothing for it."

It was the sort of talk that seemed to grasp at clouds, yet Hitomi accepted it and nodded. She was beginning, little by little, to understand that anything at all could happen in the hidden world. Things that laid a curse upon you for breaking a fixed taboo were common enough even in old tales. It could not possibly be anything truly dangerous, of course. If there were even the slightest chance of that, he would never have sent it as a wedding gift to begin with.

"Mm, then what should we do? If we try to finish it all before the meal, we'll be full on this alone."

"Could we not simply give it away as gifts to the people around us?"

"Wait—don't we have to drink all of it?"

"No. We need only drink whatever we still have in our keeping by the day of the wedding."

In the extreme, one could sell off every bottle but one and then upend the last straight down one's throat, and there would be no problem whatsoever. That would be a problem in its own right, but in any case.

"Setting aside how precious it is, it is a wine held in extraordinary esteem, so most who are given a share will be pleased."

"You're right… Then I'll set aside what we ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠need for the aperitif and divide the rest among the people at the company. I'll send some to my family, too."

Hitomi settled on that almost at once, and smiled.

"Not so much as mentioning a sale on the open market. If that is like you, Hitomi, then it is very like you."

"Well—even so, selling off something given out of kindness is a bit……."

"There are far more shameless people in this world than you suppose, Hitomi."

An object this expensive would tempt no small number. At the very least, there could not be many capable of nodding at a proposal to give it away without the faintest look of regret, as Hitomi just had. Han Seoyeon smiled faintly, drew her in tight, and stroked her hair. Hitomi, too, grinned softly within that embrace and rubbed her forehead against Seoyeon's chest.

"Oh—since it's come to this, shall I call the company and suggest a collab drinking stream?"

"An excellent thought. I will place the call."

"Hello?"

"Ah, Yuri!"

"Not at all. I mean, we got it for free ourselves, anyway."

"Three of us? Then something that works among three-player games…"

"Oh, I'll ask Shion about that. I think it'll probably be fine."

"Yes? What's the matter?"

"……Yes. We have plenty to spare, so I'll send another."