Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star (2)
"......Whoa."
Led in by Grandpa's hand, Blow Deblique—Han Ji-hoo, as that world had known him—stepped into a department store for the first time in his life and, standing in the first-floor lobby, found he had nothing left to say.
There were glittering luxury shops of the kind he had only ever seen on television, and a clock tower so refined it looked as though it belonged somewhere in Europe. Behind it rose a Christmas tree nearly tall enough to brush the second floor, lights winking along its boughs, a single enormous golden star fixed at the very top.
In front of the tree, people whose faces held not a single crease posed with those they loved, or waited with faces full of expectation, as if someone dear were just about to arrive. A little later, children passed close by him, grinning—a balloon in one hand, a candy the size of their own faces in the other. Ji-hoo quietly envied how spotless they looked. Not a speck of dust on them.
Grandpa, who had been watching him in silence, asked in a coaxing tone.
"Want me to take your picture?"
Ji-hoo shrugged, embarrassed.
"No. I don't think I'd... fit. Me and all of this..."
"Fit how?"
"Just... the whole thing."
Grandpa looked at him a moment longer, then smiled and shook his head.
"Nonsense. You belong here more than anyone."
"......"
"Go on. Stand over there."
At that, Ji-hoo planted himself awkwardly in front of the tree and, the way everyone else did, made a V with his fingers.
"Look at you. Handsome as anything."
Grandpa's fingers tapped the phone a few times, and he nodded as if to say that would do. A moment later Ji-hoo hurried back, and as Grandpa held the photo out with a satisfied look, he hesitated, then spoke.
"Um... Manager."
"What is it?"
"Let's take one together."
Grandpa studied him briefly, then nodded without a fuss.
"All right. Let's take one together."
"I'll go ask someone."
Before long, Grandpa's phone was in the hands of a pleasant-looking woman. Seeing the two of them standing stiffly apart on the screen, she called out in a deliberately bright voice.
"You two are far too stiff! Say cheese—cheese!"
Dying of awkwardness, he cleared his throat and glanced at Grandpa's face. Their eyes met. A smile spread across Grandpa's mouth first, and somehow Ji-hoo found that he could smile the same way.
He should have taken more pictures back then.
Was it only because the weather had turned cold, with Christmas drawing near? That morning, after speaking with the Saintess, Blow Deblique had been walking the monastery grounds, turning an old memory over in his mind.
Just then a lively clamor seemed to spill from the building, and children freshly woken from sleep came out rubbing their eyes. The moment they saw him they ran over and bowed at once.
"Young Master, did you sleep well?!"
"Good morning, Young Master!"
Starting with Melo, they greeted him one after another. Blow returned every greeting, and—to finish waking them—cast a fire spell. The children lit up at the red flame burning inside his magic circle.
"Whoa...!"
Their eyes sparkled the way his own had the first time he stepped into a department store, and a smile spread across Blow's mouth, just as Grandpa's had then.
A brief silence settled over the abbot's office after Blow finished speaking. At his talk of drawing stars, no one could help looking puzzled. Unable to contain his curiosity, the abbot lifted a palm slightly toward him.
"You say you will draw stars into the children's sky. Might you tell us what you mean by that?"
Blow Deblique's face was more serious than it had ever been as he began.
"I want to build a place where a person can buy everything."
"Everything? Do you mean something like a general store?"
"Yes—it's related, in a way. I'm about to open a potion shop, and my goal is to put everything the students need inside it."
Interest kindling, Yulia leaned toward Blow, and the abbot's eyes went round.
"When you say everything?"
"Potions, of course—but writing tools and cosmetics as well. Snacks the students can eat easily. Stationery, and bookmarks."
"Snacks and cosmetics, too?"
"Yes. And someday, I want to sell everything to everyone."
"Everything, to everyone..."
"I'll sell tomatoes. I'll sell fish. I'll sell books, and clothes, and coffee. Wine, too. Needles. Hats."
"Well, now..."
"And I'll bring in restaurants. A coffeehouse, a teahouse. A clock tower—and one great tank, where you can watch beautiful fish."
The abbot, who had been listening in silence, stroked his chin and turned the words over, then spoke with care.
"It is... nothing short of a dream, Young Master Blow."
"Yes. It will take a great deal of time."
By any measure, it was an absurd thing to say. But Blow spoke with the certainty of a man who had already seen it, and those listening swallowed dryly and waited for what he would say next, rather than reaching for a rebuttal.
This time it was Francis, who had been listening closely, who let out a thoughtful hum and began.
"It would be impossible by one person's strength alone, Young Master Blow."
"Yes. If someone makes the goods, someone else will have to move them, and someone will have to manage them."
A short silence. Then Blow went on in a calm voice.
"Liz is quite good with a needle. And as you know, our Melo cooks remarkably well."
"You mean..."
"So it would be good to open a restaurant for Melo, and to set Liz on a craftswoman's path—or at least to open a clothing shop for her."
Only then did the abbot understand what Blow had meant at the start, about drawing stars for the children, and he looked into those bright, deep eyes.
Every year the monastery had no choice but to send a great many children out into the world. Whenever word came back that a child who had left had gone wrong, everyone who worked there often fell silent for the whole day, hollowed out by the loss. Even if such things could never vanish entirely—if they could be lessened even a little, if one could truly dream of it—was that not a good story?
Without their knowing it, hope began to settle on the faces of the abbot and Marta as they looked at Blow.
"I think the reason Tommy gave up the path of a knight halfway, and the reason shadows fall across the other children's faces, is that the days after the Blessing Ceremony look far too hazy and dark."
"And that is why you said you would draw the stars yourself."
"Yes. If something is clearly sparkling at the end of the road, the children will be able to follow it."
This morning, Blow had wanted those children—smiling at his flame—to be different from Han Ji-hoo, who had once drawn a star alone into a darkness that held nothing at all. And so he had resolved to draw the stars into the children's sky with his own hands. The notion of a department store, which he had first entertained almost as a joke, had grown this serious, and this clear.
"That is what I think."
Having finally finished, Blow looked around at them with a slightly embarrassed expression, and no one found it easy to speak. Around the time he reached for the water glass in front of him, Marta's clear voice rang through the abbot's office.
"Young Master Blow."
"Yes, Saintess."
"There was a time I resented it. That the Goddess Lunaria took my sight. I asked Her about it many times. In the end, there was no answer."
"Saintess..."
Blow and Marta. The abbot, who had seen how the two of them began and was seeing them now, smiled more brightly than anyone else in the room, then beckoned to Aubio, who stood behind the Saintess with a face overcome.
"Aubio."
"Yes, Abbot."
"Summon Landia."
"Yes."
With that, Aubio went straight outside. To Blow, who looked at the abbot without knowing what was happening, the abbot spoke in a voice full of warmth.
"If there is anything you need from our monastery, you may discuss it with Landia."
"You mean..."
"We would be glad if our monastery could be of even a little help to your dream."
"Abbot...!"
Blow nearly shot up from his seat in surprise. The abbot only smiled.
Even after hearing it, Blow was dazed. He glanced at Jane and Hans, seated beside him. Sentimental Hans had been dabbing at his tears for some time, while Jane smiled gently and gave him a nod.
A short while later Brother Landia—the bespectacled monk who oversaw all of the monastery's sales—came upstairs, and he, Aubio, and Blow talked.
"Aubio."
"Yes, Young Master Blow! Was there something more?"
"By any chance, does Brother Landia manage the vineyards as well?"
"No. I manage the vineyards. Is something the matter? Do you need grapes?"
"Not grapes..."
He paused, then went on in a small voice.
"I want to take the vine leaves."
"Hm? What do you mean...?"
"The size and all—they'd be good for wrapping potatoes."
"Wrapping?"
Blow scratched his head, embarrassed. Aubio turned the words over, then burst out laughing and answered at once.
"We throw them out anyway, so take as many as you like!"
"Glad to hear it."
"I was startled—I thought you were going to say something else. Then next week I'll have the leaves carted over to you, and you can finish the contract then."
"Ah, that would be better. I'll be counting on you."
"Yes. We'll be counting on you as well."
Blow clasped hands with them once, then stepped outside. The strength went out of him. He leaned against the wall and stared blankly at the sky. It felt as though he had accomplished something, and also as though it had been easier than he'd expected. He wasn't sure which.
Jane came up to him with a bright, beaming smile.
"It all worked out, didn't it?"
"My legs are shaking. I really want to rest now."
"Then go to the hot springs and rest properly!"
"I definitely came here to rest. Why is this harder than working?"
"From what I can see, Young Master, you won't be resting for a long, long time."
"Don't say scary things."
Then the two of them glanced at Hans, who was clutching a hat and gloves the Saintess had blessed.
"Is a blessing really that wonderful?"
"It does feel good, though."
"Oh, right. Hans, did you contact the hotel?"
"No. Most of them are same-day bookings, so I think we'll only know once we get there."
"Yeah? Then it can't be helped. Surely they won't be out of even one room."
"I'll check the moment we arrive."
"Good. You rest properly this time, too."
"Thank you, Young Master!"
Hans, in high spirits after receiving Marta's blessing as well, answered with that much confidence.
Around then Yulia came out of the building, approached Blow, and spoke in a thoroughly bright voice.
"Young Master Blow, you really do surprise me again and again."
"Yes? What..."
"I didn't know you spoke so well. I was quite moved myself."
"Thank you for the compliment. Thanks to you, Senior, things seem to have gone well this time."
"I'm glad I could be of help. That aside—are you heading to the hot springs now?"
"Yes. We're about to leave."
"In that case, you should come with me."
"Yes?"
To the startled Blow, Yulia said, a smile on her lips.
"Edfolk Rothen, the hotel my family runs, has hot springs as well. I'm going out there for an inspection today, and I thought it would be good if you came along."
"Hm..."
Through everything they had been through, Blow and Yulia had grown considerably less formal with each other. Even so, the distance had not vanished entirely, and he couldn't help hesitating. As if she had expected exactly that, a peculiar smile spread across Yulia's mouth.
"The lodging will be free, of course..."
"I'll go. Senior Yulia. Thank you."
Seeing him answer before she had even finished, the corners of Jane's mouth went flat. Yulia let out a soft laugh.
"You said others would be coming as well, didn't you? We'll give you the suite, and everyone else can stay in rooms on that floor."
"A suite!"
A suite—Jane's mouth shot upward at once. Even that felt a bit much for Blow, who watched her reaction as he spoke.
"Senior, a suite is far too much."
"You treat me to Cheese Corn Cheese every time. Of course I should do at least this much! Then it's settled—we go together?"
"Yes. Thank you, Senior!"
"How many more are coming?"
"Hervena, Skadi, Linne, and Rowbedi—so four more, I think."
"Oh, you called the second-years as well? Well, they do look good when they're working hard. Then I'll let the hotel know in advance."
With that, Yulia walked off toward her attendant. Only then did Blow remember her saying she had something to tell him.
The monastery's rear garden, where it met the forest. Blow was spending his last hours there showing magic to the children clinging to him. Tommy edged up, hesitant, and bowed.
"Thank you for the lesson. Please teach me again next time, Young Master."
Blow looked at him quietly, then put on a straight face and shook his head.
"No."
"What?"
"Jane says I'm not allowed."
Jane stared at him in disbelief.
"Since when have you listened to me that well?"
Tommy glanced between them, trying to tell whether it was real. Seeing the boy's sweat-soaked clothes, a smile came to Blow's face.
"I'm joking. Give Rosinante my regards."
"Yes, I will, for certain!"
Tommy pressed his hands together, bowed, and drew away. Then Blow lifted his head and took in the monastery.
It was cold, as winter ought to be, but under a sky so clear there wasn't a single cloud, the sight set his heart thoroughly at peace. A little later he heard children running in the distance and looked that way. The Saintess and Aubio were coming toward them.
"Young Master."
"Yes, Saintess."
A subtle current passed between them. Blow went down on one knee before her.
"It was an honor to meet you, Saintess."
Smiling, Marta asked in a voice full of warmth.
"Where are you going?"
"To a hot spring nearby."
"I see. I'll be a little sorry to see you go."
Blow answered gently.
"If you come to Caipol, please stop by. For you, Saintess, I'll make a special exception and treat you for free."
"Thank you, Young Master."
Then Marta brought her hands together and bowed her head slightly. As if she had cast a spell, something began to sparkle all around her. In an instant every sound ceased, and after a little time her clear voice began to ring across the whole garden.
"Almighty Lunaria... grant Your grace and Your blessing, that only blessing and peace may fill the days ahead of Young Master Blow..."
And then, at last, light descended from the sky and fell upon the place where Blow stood.
"Whoaaa!"
"It's the Saintess's blessing!"
The light was bright enough to blind him, and Blow quietly closed his eyes. A comfortable, gentle radiance poured down, as if he had stepped into water of exactly the right temperature. Exhilaration welled up from deep in his chest, and he even felt as though anything at all would turn out well.
Taking all of it in, Blow Deblique found himself, without meaning to, on both knees, his hands gathered and resting there. And then a voice soft as cotton reached his ear.