The Punishment Hall (11)
The Punishment Hall (11)
Valkan frowned. Humans who had appeared out of nowhere and were stirring up the inside of the prison.
They were installing something in the now-cleaned room. The prison uniform that had restrained his body had also been changed for different clothes.
Clothes with wide sleeves, clothes that let him properly use arms that had been stiffening. At the unbelievable change, Valkan growled.
"What are you after?"
"Heh heh. There's only one thing I'm after."
The guard in front of him raised a brush with a flourish.
"Brushing out that tangled fur first!"
"......?"
He was dragged out by force. He could see warm steam rising from a massive jar.
Heated water. Surely they weren't going to...boil me alive?!
"Stop reading the room and get in."
Whack—a kick landed on his rear. Valkan tumbled head over heels and fell into the jar.
But something was strange. It wasn't hot. If anything, it was lukewarm and pleasant.
A bath for the first time in ages. His tangled hair slowly began to loosen. Valkan blankly scooped water with both hands.
It was clean water. Valkan gulped it down frantically. The guard pushed his forehead back with a tap.
"I'll give you drinking water separately later, so don't drink that. What's the point of drinking water steeped in filth?"
"What...are you...trying to do to me...?"
"What do you mean, what? You can see, can't you?"
White liquid coated the brush thickly. The guard rubbed his hands together.
Cloudy foam rose up.
A grinning smile.
"Ready?"
"Wh-what...!"
"What do you mean, what!"
Scrub scrub scrub.
His coarse hair began to be rinsed. The grime caked onto his body peeled away bit by bit.
"......?"
"Ugh. Filthy. Turn your back a little."
"What is this...?"
"Are you going to turn around or not?"
"Uh, uh?"
Valkan turned his back without thinking. He presented his back to Zahard.
Rough scrubbing went back and forth. It didn't hurt that much. If anything, it felt good.
A slippery body. Filth slowly peeling away.
His grime-caked body was becoming clean. His first bath in years.
Valkan's tail wagged slightly. Then he suddenly noticed something strange and immediately pulled back.
Foam scattered everywhere.
"What are you doing!"
"What do you mean, what? I'm giving you a bath. Honestly. You're a lot of work. Hurry up and come back."
"Wh-why are you bathing me..."
"Because you're dirty, so I'm washing you. Or what, were you just going to live like that? Do Beastfolk live without washing?"
"No! We are more than humans...!"
"Then hurry back. If you want to be cleaner than humans, you have to wash, don't you?"
No, no.
Wasn't that beside the point?
The guard sidled up to the bewildered Valkan. He picked up a shower ball and scrubbed hard at the filth on his back.
"Feels refreshing, right?"
"......"
Honestly, it was refreshing. It would be stranger if it weren't. But Valkan couldn't understand the reason behind all of this.
"...Has the policy for managing prisoners changed?"
"No?"
"Did separate orders come down from above?"
"No?"
"Then why? Why are you bathing me?"
"Because you're dirty."
The brush moved diligently.
"Everyone wants to be clean. Aren't you the same?"
"But..."
He swallowed the rest of his words. Valkan couldn't bring himself to say it.
Until just yesterday, he had been trying to bite that throat. He had been trying to pour his rage, which had nowhere to go, onto him.
But why...was he showing kindness to someone who had tried to kill him?
"Why...are you helping me?"
"Does a person need a reason to help another person?"
Water was poured over him. The foam washed away.
"So?"
"...So what..."
"I asked if it feels refreshing."
Valkan nodded awkwardly. His tail swayed gently.
"It...does..."
"Then that's enough. Here. You can wipe yourself off, right?"
He caught the tossed towel. Valkan blankly dried himself.
Then he suddenly asked.
"What's your name?"
"I told you last time. Did you forget already?"
"I had no intention of remembering."
"Then is this time different?"
"It is."
The young guard chuckled.
"It's Zahard."
Zahard.
Valkan swept his wet hair back.
"...I remembered."
. . .
"How's the water temperature?"
"Ahh. This is paradise."
"I asked about the water temperature."
Rakkum's thick tail moved with a swish. It felt good. The grime caked between his scales was peeling away, and beneath it, everything was being rinsed anew.
Scales that had rotted from long neglect fell out. It stung a little, but this was better. When the rotten ones came off, new scales grew in their place.
Zahard, who had climbed onto his back, scrubbed hard with the brush.
"Why won't this come off?"
"You're working hard, young guard."
"Just with words?"
"...Then what should I do?"
So he had been expecting something after all. Rakkum smiled bitterly.
A voice grumbled from above his back.
"Turn onto your left side. I need to wash your flank."
"......?"
Rakkum burst out laughing. What in the world.
Ahh. He was impossible to predict. And that made it all the more enjoyable. Rakkum glanced at the strange presence that had entered his monotonous daily life.
He couldn't tell what he was after. Dressing him in loose prison clothes, cleaning up the room, and now even washing his body.
"What are you after?"
"The grime under the third scale on your left flank. This one especially won't come off."
"Just pull it off yourself, young guard. What won't come off isn't grime. It's a rotten scale."
"Oh. Nice."
A cracking sound rang out. Zahard casually spoke up.
"Hey. Rakkum."
"What?"
"Pulling off these scales...is weirdly satisfying, you know?"
"Rotten scales rot all the way to the root. They can be pulled out without resistance. There's a peculiar feel to it. In my village, we had a specialist doctor who did nothing but pull those out."
"I could get addicted to this."
"Don't pull the new scales. Those won't come out."
"Busted."
What did he mean, busted. What a funny human.
For some reason, Rakkum couldn't hold back the corners of his mouth from rising.
"Young guard. Where are you from?"
"I came from the Church headquarters."
"Your main occupation?"
"A priest, obviously."
"I see...a priest..."
It might be a sensitive question. But Rakkum wanted to ask.
"What do you think...about folk religions?"
Asking a sensitive question to a priest who believed in another god. For Rakkum, it was a kind of defense mechanism.
Keeping distance. Saying, this is who I am, so don't take any more interest.
"Folk religions?"
Zahard plucked out a rotten scale with a pop.
"Well, people who want to believe will believe."
".....?"
Rakkum blinked.
"You don't think they should be driven out?"
"Not particularly?"
"...They're people who don't believe in Ra."
"That's possible."
"And on top of that, Lizardfolk who are extremely dangerous..."
"Where's a person who isn't dangerous? Everyone lives with their claws hidden."
An answer he had never expected. Rakkum raised his head with a swish. He looked back at him.
"...Isn't that something a priest shouldn't say?"
He hadn't expected those words to come out of his own mouth. Zahard tapped Rakkum on the head.
"Priest or not, there's only one thing to do right now."
"What?"
"Turn sideways. I need to peel off your right flank."
"......."
Rakkum turned his body slightly.
"Young guard. You are...a strange priest."
"Hey now. You're calling the person washing your body straaange?"
"I take it back."
Rakkum chuckled.
"A very strange priest."
. . .
Water burst from within. Tsubaki giggled.
Her hands were free. The muzzle had come off, and she could use her curses freely. Freedom after so long. She had finally escaped the maddening withdrawal symptoms.
But the one remaining desire still went unfulfilled. Simply bursting something wasn't enough to quench the thirst.
Ahh. She wanted to burst a person. She wanted to burst their skull open and rummage around inside.
A flash of flame. A bursting scream.
Tsubaki loved that. She simply loved it. There was no other way to express it besides saying she loved it.
How should she escape from here? Should she wait for an opening and burst through a wall? Her skills had rusted, but if she pulled herself together just a little, somehow...
Splash!
Water poured over her head. Tsubaki spat out the hair that had gotten into her mouth.
"What are you doing? Not washing."
"......"
She glanced at the young guard. Tsubaki didn't know how to deal with the guard in front of her.
She had definitely planted a curse, but it had bounced off. The curses she had muttered in succession had all exploded in midair.
Someone she couldn't beat with strength. Like a wild beast. But...
She couldn't understand why he was doing all this.
"Name. Curious. What?"
She wasn't familiar with the language of the western continent. Her mouth had been forcibly shut so she couldn't speak, so she hadn't been able to practice. Her language level was exactly the same as when she had first arrived on this continent.
The other guards had hated this clumsy pronunciation. They had forcibly ignored conversation with her, as if looking at a time bomb about to go off.
But the guard in front of her was different. He diligently scrubbed her grime-caked skin and answered her calmly.
"It's Zahard. Can you lift your arm a little? It's hard to wash you."
"Alone. Possible."
"I know it's not possible. There are so many places a person can't wash alone. I'm not thinking anything weird, so just lift your arm. You're my third one, so I'm starting to get tired, you know?"
Tsubaki obediently lifted her arm. The long-missed freshness wasn't unpleasant at all. If anything, it felt good.
She was also a person. She wanted to live in a clean place, and she wanted to eat lots of delicious food. She wanted to do what she liked and sleep comfortably.
If there was anything different about her from others, it was just one desire. Tsubaki couldn't feel pleasure from the things others enjoyed.
Only when handling explosions and tasting flames was she truly happy. She could stake her life on the fleeting joy of bursting a human.
A small explosion crackled up from Tsubaki's hand. Zahard let out a sigh.
"Hey."
"...Huh?!"
Was a hand about to fly at her again? Tsubaki flinched. Zahard rummaged through his pocket and pulled something out.
"Don't cause explosions and just hold onto this."
"...Thing?"
Small bumps were slightly puffed up on something like white plastic. An object that looked like air had been sealed into plastic and divided up.
Tsubaki, who had been staring at the object with eyes full of suspicion, quietly picked it up.
"What?"
"It's called air cap...but I call it bubble wrap. I went all the way to the city of Filamon to have it made, so it'll be fun."
Zahard's hands gently worked through her hair. The long-caked grime washed away.
"Tsubaki likes bursting things, right?"
"....."
"For now, just keep bursting that. I'll give you something else later."
Pop—air burst in her hand. At the long-missed satisfaction wrapping her fingertips, Tsubaki shuddered.
A pleasant sensation.
Why is this so fun?!
Pop pop pop.
Tsubaki, who had been bursting them in succession, quietly raised her head. She asked in a whisper.
"Tsubaki. Explosions. Like. Strange. Agree?"
"What's strange about it? I like bursting those too, you know?"
Zahard clicked his tongue.
"In the first place, there's no way everyone likes the same things, right? There are plenty of people who don't like popping bubble wrap, so what's the big deal."
"People. Death. Tsubaki. Criminal."
"I already know you only burst heinous criminals. You've got at least some conscience, so you only killed people you figured deserved to die, right? Who are you trying to fool. Lift your right arm. I'm getting tired."
"Still murder. Hate. No? Zahard. Priest. Punishment Office guard."
"Hate, my ass."
Foam rose up.
"The people Tsubaki killed were bastards who deserved to die, so if you ever escape from here, kill at least one more. Okay?"
Tsubaki quietly brought her feet together. She obediently held out her arm.
The foam washed away once more. Inside it, Tsubaki thought.
Lacking in morality.
A strange person who doesn't suit being a priest!