Kunsai Cherohun
Megan came up to Blow, checked his face one more time, and let out a sigh of relief before offering him a bow.
"Young Master."
"Well, Megan. How was the vacation?"
"...It was restful."
Her face said the exact opposite of her words.
Her voice was hoarse, as if she had not opened her mouth in a long while. She worked at her throat for some time before she finally managed to speak.
"Young Master, you have guests."
"You mean those two?"
"Yes."
Blow glanced at the two beastkin standing behind Megan.
The one in front wore the uniform of Capall Central Academy, the comprehensive school that taught the arts, general studies, and technical skills, and looked to be about Blow's own age. The beastkin behind him was the opposite—white-haired, his face deep with wrinkles. A bag hung from his shoulder, and he had the look of an attendant escorting the boy in front.
Blow had not intended to receive guests through the end of today. He cleared his throat and started toward them.
At once the dark-skinned beastkin boy with the blunt nose lifted the corners of his mouth and offered a greeting in a deliberately bright voice.
"Hello! Young Master Blow, my name is Kunsai Cherohun!"
"Ah. Is that so?"
"I came because I wanted to see you, Young Master!"
"Me?"
When the startled Blow pointed at himself, Kunsai nodded hard and cried out.
"Yes, sir! I wanted to see you, and I wanted to try the cooking you serve!"
"A meal? I'm sorry, but we aren't open for business through today. If you come tomorrow morning or evening, we'll be able to look after you properly."
"Ah! I see! Then I'll wait until tomorrow!"
"What?"
"I'll wait. Right here."
Kunsai Cherohun said it, and blinked.
...What was this?
Blow looked down into the round eyes turned up at him and, for a moment, had no idea what to do with the boy. Then he asked, gently.
"You seem to be a student. What about school?"
"Ah! I don't have to go!"
The longer they talked, the more it felt like sinking into a bog. Blow glanced toward Megan.
The tension had gone out of her eyes, and the corner of her mouth had crept up. He decided he had better speak with her first.
"Just a moment."
"Yes, sir!"
He put a little distance between himself and the bright-eyed Kunsai, then put the question to Megan.
"What is this...?"
"He's been like that since Thursday."
"What? Thursday?"
Which meant the two beastkin had been waiting just like this since three days before Blow left for the monastery.
Startled, he dropped his voice to a whisper, afraid they might overhear.
"Megan, you didn't tell them we'd gone on vacation?"
"I told them every day. That you would return on Sunday."
"And?"
"They stayed like that anyway. They would leave late at night and come back in the morning. Today they were a little late."
"What in the world—? Weren't you scared? You should have said something to the city watch."
When Blow blurted it out in shock, Megan answered as if it were nothing at all.
"I thought they might be your guests, Young Master. And all they did was stand there, so there wasn't really anything to report."
"You really are something..."
"It's fine. I didn't have a spare moment to worry about it."
"What were you doing?"
"I'm sorry. That is a secret, Young Master."
Megan could not bring herself to name a book like The Academy's Young Lady Is in Peril!!, and she let the end of the sentence trail off. Blow did not press her any further. He turned his gaze back to Kunsai.
A clear, quiet madness glimmered in the boy's eyes.
If he had been waiting since Thursday, then his promise to wait until tomorrow was probably the truth.
Blow sent a look to the companions who had been watching the exchange, then approached Kunsai again.
"You've been waiting since Thursday, you said."
"Yes, sir!"
A voice so bright it was enough to make a listener dizzy.
Blow thought for a moment, decided there was no helping it, and made the offer.
"Please come inside. You've waited a long time. The least we can do is share a meal."
"R-really? Thank you! Thank you so much!"
Blow opened the door so they could go in first, then looked back at his party.
Jane and Hervena tilted their heads with the same uncomprehending look he felt himself. Skadi alone was shaking with stifled laughter, as if she might die of it, and slipped past him into the inn ahead of the rest.
The Student Council. The office of the Head of Student Welfare.
Cindy Whiteglass, Head of Finance, planted both hands on Julbert's desk and fixed him with a sharp glare.
"Senior Julbert Mertios. I've gone to the trouble of coming all this way because I have a favor to ask."
With that, she set a news clipping down on the desk with a sharp smack. The letters were printed huge.
Julbert stared at the article, rubbed his eyes once, and smiled.
"Cindy, it's been a while. Wouldn't it be nicer to have a cup of tea and ask how we've each been getting on?"
"Don't talk so slick. I might throw up."
"You used to like it."
A flicker of irritation crossed Cindy's face at that greasy smile, but she did not spit it out. She let it scatter.
"As you know, I'm busy, so tea is a bit much... Anyway, I came because of this damned article."
"Why bring a Redfrin article to me?"
"Hey."
At Julbert's uncomprehending look, the smile Cindy forced onto her lips trembled.
"Think about it for even a second, and it seems like it has something to do with our dear Senior Julbert."
"That's quite a leap, Cindy Whiteglass."
"A leap? Since Friday, Redfrin articles have been dropping out of the sky, several a day. There isn't a single piece about your side, and you call that a leap?"
"It isn't as if there are none at all, is it?"
"Your share of the coverage has shrunk to something absurd, hasn't it? How long has it even been since the Blow incident broke? You're watering it down. That's what this is."
"What am I supposed to do when this school produces a new incident every single day?"
The smile left Cindy's mouth. She stared straight at Julbert.
"A refined young lady like Redfrin, who grabs one scoop and bites down like a dog with its eyes rolled back, hanging on even if it kills her—she wouldn't do a thing like that, now would she?"
"Cindy, you seem to know Redfrin well. I can't say I do."
"Oh, give me a break. Fine. Then I'll make my request."
"And why are you asking me to do something about a Redfrin article?"
"Because, if you look at how things were before the Blow incident, you and Redfrin have some kind of..."
"Cindy."
Julbert cut her off and stared at her without blinking.
"Cindy Whiteglass. Say only what you can afford to say. Or do you trust Redfrin's articles too?"
"....."
"Is that it? Hm? Cindy Whiteglass?"
Watching him stress her family name again and again, Cindy clenched her fist before she knew it.
A brief standoff followed. Cindy let out a breath, scattered her anger, dropped her gaze, and spoke.
"Fine. I came here to ask a favor."
She managed a difficult smile, then went on.
"You can do whatever you like, Senior. I'm only asking that you not touch the people in my Finance Department. Please... I'm really asking."
"I keep telling you to go say that to Redfrin. How many more times do I have to say it?"
Julbert did not even look at her. The bored indifference of it was more than Cindy could stand, and she slammed his desk.
"Julbert! All right—Senior Julbert!"
James, who had been silent behind them, moved to stop her, but Julbert shook his head with easy composure.
Cindy forced the feeling down and spoke to him in a trembling voice.
"I really did like you, you know. A lot. This is..."
"......"
"Don't... smash that too. I'm asking. I want to keep only the good memories with you. The kids in Finance are already having a hard enough time just getting ground down. You know that. Kids with no rank and nothing to their names, same as me."
"....."
"Let me ask this one thing. Me... okay?"
She rubbed at the corner of her eye and was out the door before Julbert could answer.
A long while later, Julbert drained the tea in front of him and spoke to James in a businesslike tone.
"James. Give me yesterday's documents. And get in touch with Redfrin. Tell her I'd like to meet soon."
"Yes. Understood. The documents are here."
"As always, thank you."
James drew the papers from the envelope at once and spread them before him. Written across them, plain as day:
Confidential record, prepared for the Head of Student Welfare.
At that same hour, the Nyx Inn.
Kunsai and the attendant who had come with him took one table. The others pushed a second table up beside it and sat. Everyone kept their voices low, eyes drifting toward Kunsai, because every one of them had felt something unsettled about him.
Dealing with the pair was, of course, Blow's part. He put on a courteous tone and asked.
"Would two portions of potato be enough?"
"Ah! Young Master! Is potato all you have here?"
There was a strange force packed into the way Kunsai spoke. Blow shrugged.
"Yes. We're still in a soft opening, so the menu only has potatoes."
"Yes, sir! Then I'll eat whatever you give me."
Kunsai looked up at him, eyes shining.
Blow thought for a moment, then offered an amiable smile.
"Have something else as well. My party needs to eat too."
"Oh, really? I'll eat it with thanks."
"Yes. How about olive pasta with shrimp, and a dish of corn topped with cheese?"
"That sounds wonderful! Young Master!"
"Then let's do that."
Meaning to play host himself, Blow left the rest of the serving to Hans and took a seat at the beastkin's table.
Kunsai was beaming at him, smile after smile, and Blow was just beginning to feel the weight of it when the potatoes arrived, and soon after the pasta and the cheese-topped corn came out on their plates.
"Shall we eat first?"
"Yes, sir!"
Kunsai and his attendant waited until Blow lifted his fork. The moment he put a potato in his mouth, they snatched up their own.
They must have been hungry. The plates emptied in a flash.
A little time passed, and ease returned to their faces. Blow opened his mouth carefully.
"So. What made you wait so long?"
"I really wanted to meet you just once, Young Master!"
"Me?"
"Yes! I saw that match of yours!"
"Hm? Do you mean the match I had with Greig not long ago?"
"Yes, sir!! A friend of a friend of mine comes here, and they got me a ticket! I went without thinking much of it, and it left such a deep, deep impression!"
"...Even I can see how it would have."
At the next table, where they had quietly closed their mouths to listen, heads nodded in agreement with Kunsai.
A little later, seeing the plates scraped clean, Blow offered:
"If it wasn't enough, I'll bring more."
"No! I'm fine! I'm small, so I can't eat much!!"
"Did it suit your taste?"
At that, Kunsai hesitated for some reason, then asked:
"Do you want an evaluation?"
"Sure. Whatever you're comfortable with."
Kunsai glanced once at the attendant beside him, then answered.
"The dishes taste good. But overall, they feel a bit salty?"
The quiet talk filling the inn snapped off, and the mood sank in an instant.
Blow was a little startled by the unexpected remark, but he answered as if it were nothing.
"Ah. I see. I suppose one could feel that way."
"Yes, sir! The other dishes were a little short on sweetness overall, too. Especially this corn dish."
Blow flinched and looked toward the kitchen.
Melo, who had only ever heard praise for the taste of her cooking, had gone stiff as stone.
He counted it a mercy that Yulia was not in the inn at this moment, and quietly studied Kunsai, who had tilted his head.
"A little short on sweetness... What do you think, Mr. Luta?"
"Certainly."
The attendant, who had been eating like a machine, said that much and shut his mouth again.
At the next table, Hervena was staring at Kunsai with an expression that asked what kind of person this was. Cross the line, and she looked ready to gift him a spell on the spot.
Cold sweat broke on Blow. Watching Kunsai blink those clear eyes in earnest, utterly unaware, he tried to think how he was going to get through this moment.