Spring Log III Read online

  Copyright

  SPICE AND WOLF, Volume 20

  ISUNA HASEKURA

  Translation by Jasmine Bernhardt

  Cover art by Jyuu Ayakura

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  OOKAMI TO KOSHINRYO Vol. 20

  ©ISUNA HASEKURA 2018

  First published in Japan in 2018 by KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo.

  English translation rights arranged with KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo, through Tuttle-Mori Agency, Inc., Tokyo.

  English translation © 2018 by Yen Press, LLC

  Yen Press, LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Hasekura, Isuna, 1982– author. | Ayakura, Jyuu, 1981– illustrator. | Bernhardt, Jasmine, translator.

  Title: Spring log III / Isuna Hasekura, Jyuu Ayakura ; translation by Jasmine Bernhardt ; cover art by Jyuu Ayakura.

  Other titles: Spring log III. English

  Description: First Yen On edition. | New York : Yen On, October 2018. | Series: Spice & Wolf ; Volume 20

  Identifiers: LCCN 2018034184 | ISBN 9781975302788 (pbk.)

  Subjects: CYAC: Fantasy. | Goddesses—Fiction. | Wolves—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.H2687 Srf 2018 | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018034184

  ISBNs: 978-1-9753-0278-8 (paperback)

  978-1-9753-0279-5 (ebook)

  E3-20180920-JV-PC

  WHAT FALLS IN SPRING AND WOLF

  The snow disappeared from the mountains, the trees budded, and the world bloomed with color.

  The stone-cold winter wind gained the scent of soft earth.

  The change from winter to spring to early summer happened every year, but the happiness it brought was always fresh.

  Nonetheless, plenty of work awaited as the world grew more active, some of it enjoyable and some not.

  The most dreadful of them all found its way to Lawrence this year.

  “Ngh…mm…Achoo!”

  Something had gotten into the master of Spice and Wolf’s nose, and he awoke with a sneeze. He thought for a moment that a spider had spun a web on his face as he slept, but it seemed he was wrong.

  Wondering what it might be, he rubbed his face and soon realized. He pulled back the blanket over him, and there was a terrible sight.

  “Hey, get up.”

  Under that same blanket was a girl who could easily be mistaken for a child, fast asleep. She had beautiful flaxen hair and, at first glance, looked like nobility, but her thin frame made her appear more like a nun.

  Of course, Lawrence had not smuggled someone in behind God’s back—it was his wife, Holo.

  In short, while not anything particularly shameful, there was something Holo did not wish for others to know. It was not how carefree she was, curled up sleeping without the blanket.

  It was how she had pointed animal ears on her head and a large tail growing from her behind. She was the avatar of a wolf, who once called herself a god and had been worshipped as one.

  “So it’s this time of year again…”

  As he looked down at Holo, a half smile from some sort of dream on her silly sleeping face, the self-proclaimed wisewolf’s large tail moved slowly. Lawrence immediately sneezed again.

  The blanket was covered in brown hairs underneath, and of course, the color was the same as the sleeping Holo’s tail.

  The shedding season had come again this year.

  Nyohhira, famous as a hot spring village, was not only popular in winter but also during summer. Again today, there was plenty of luggage stacked at the port built on the river that cut through the village.

  In the tavern beside the port, Lawrence pulled out some silver coins from his wallet and lined them up neatly.

  “Here it is.”

  “Hmm. Silver debau…and seven of them. Good weight, too. Been a while since I’ve seen a neat coin without the edges scraped away.”

  The one counting Lawrence’s row of coins was a man with a rather large nose. Perhaps it looked so big because of how red it was from the alcohol.

  The man dressed like a woodcutter pretending to be a merchant—which matched his occupation exactly. He was a traveling craftsman.

  “I appreciate your patronage every year. But it seems your wife’s got rather long hair.”

  On the table with ale and pork sausages were almost thirty brushes, their bristles all in neat rows. This craftsman made brushes and hair accessories for the dancing girls who came to the village, but Lawrence was very aware that he ordered the most brushes by far.

  “She brushes her hair when she finds a free moment. It’s terribly expensive.”

  The debau silver, a sun engraved on the face, was a splendid coin, considered best among its peers.

  Lawrence had handed over seven.

  A skilled craftsman supporting a family as an honest citizen could earn a silver and a half to two silver at most in a day’s work, so he knew how wasteful it was.

  “I appreciate the business, but why not go for a metal one? A good gilded one will never rust and is gentle on the hair. One of those would last a long time.”

  The craftsman spoke words that would lessen his own keep. He was probably tired of making tens upon tens of brushes. He wandered, unaffiliated with any town association despite his talent, likely because he was the type to dislike repetitive work.

  “She’s insisted that she doesn’t want to use a metal one.”

  “Ha-ha. There are plenty of girls like that, saying it’ll damage their hair. Well, better than them wanting only metal brushes.” The craftsman laughed, gulping down his ale, and finally heaved a loud sigh. “I can take your orders for a few more years, but what’ll you do after that?” he said, gazing at the front and back of his new silver coins before putting them into his wallet. “My eyes’ve started going bad. Quite the hassle lining up all the bristles.”

  “Is that so…? I was hoping to always have you make them for us.”

  “Why, then I’ll find a fellow craftsman for you. A workshop in town could easily get all the brushes you need done.”

  But that would cost them the craftsmen association’s commission rate and shipping fees, plus the quality would be worse even if they paid the same price.

  As Lawrence thought about how he needed to convince Holo somehow, the craftsman emptied his ale, stuffed the rest of the sausage into his mouth, and stood.

  “Well, I’ve got work at the next bathhouse.”

  “Oh, my apologies. Thank you so much.”

  Like the impatient craftsman
he was, the man was already walking off and responded to Lawrence with a wave of his hand.

  Lawrence gave a tired sigh, downed his own ale, grabbed his bagful of brushes, and returned to the bathhouse.

  There were already guests at the bathhouse, so Holo usually stayed in the bedroom during shedding season. That was because her fur stuck everywhere, which made it a chore to clean. Moreover, if the guests caught a glimpse of the characteristic wolf hairs, they would naturally grow nervous at the thought that a wolf emerged from the forest during the night and had been wandering around.

  “Here, new brushes.”

  He spread them out on the writing desk, then took one and tossed it to Holo. While she typically sat on the bed to groom herself, she was currently on a chair she had placed beside the window.

  She looked rather elegant, with a cup of wine or something of the sort sitting on the windowsill.

  “Hmm. As always, these brushes smell of fine wood.”

  She leaned down to the new brush and sniffed it.

  Lawrence in turn took a whiff, and there was the scent of freshly cut lumber.

  “As expected, the scent of the forest suits my tail best.”

  Holo spoke with great delight, but she was probably being self-concious. She must have felt sorry for how expensive it was, yet found it difficult to switch to a metal brush.

  “I don’t mind but don’t scatter the hair too much.”

  “You fool,” she said, although it was true that there would be no end to cleaning the room at this time of year. Almost reflexively, Lawrence took the broom leaning on the wall and began sweeping the floor.

  Holo, sitting in her chair, took offense.

  “You grow more unpleasant every year.”

  “Hmm? Sure, I suppose I’ve gotten more refined over the years.” Lawrence stretched his back, stroking his beard as he spoke. “Well, I’m much happier since we have one fewer tails this year.”

  There was another in the bathhouse who had a wolf’s ears and tail. Those belonged to their only daughter, Myuri, but she had stuck with Col, a young man who had been working at the bathhouse before leaving to travel, so she was no longer home. That still pained Lawrence even now, but it was not all bad. Especially since, unlike Holo, Myuri did not seem very interested in maintaining her tail, and because she left it to shed on its own, it was more of a handful than it needed to be.

  However, as Lawrence placed the broom back on the wall, it dawned upon him.

  “Actually, we haven’t lost a tail.”

  “Hmm?”

  “I forgot about Miss Selim.”

  Selim was the new girl who had come to work at the bathhouse not too long ago. Odd circumstances had brought her to take on the job, and like Holo, Selim was also the embodiment of a wolf.

  “Well, we have the brushes we ordered for Myuri, so I suppose I could give those to her.”

  It was the master’s job to mind his employees so that their work could be easier.

  Lawrence thought about that as he picked out several brushes from the desk when Holo reached out from beside him and snatched them all up.

  “These are mine.”

  Lawrence was dumbstruck but quickly recovered.

  “What are you talking about? Miss Selim must be having a hard time just like you are.”

  “She can hide her ears and tail, so there is no need.”

  Holo’s reply was curt.

  For a moment, Lawrence thought she was serious, but he quickly came to his senses.

  “Myuri could hide her ears and tail, but she was like you at this time of year.”

  Unlike Holo, their only daughter Myuri could freely show and hide her ears and tail. Yet, they did not simply disappear once she hid them and still required maintenance.

  “Why are you telling such obvious lies?”

  When Lawrence asked his question, he was more exasperated than admonishing. Without even a hint of uncertainty, Holo looked away in a huff and spoke.

  “’Twould be better to just give her the coin. The artisan with the big nose is still in the village, yes?”

  That was true, but Holo certainly had no need for that many brushes, despite how many she went through.

  That was Lawrence’s line of thought, but he had learned from experience that responding logically to Holo’s whims would only make things more complicated. Brushes were not perishable, either, so giving Selim money and ordering brushes separately would produce the same result.

  In the end, he chose to obey Holo.

  “Very well, then.”

  He responded, and Holo still looked at him like she wanted to say something but first returned the brushes and the bag she held back onto the desk.

  “By the way, dear…”

  Holo sat back down in the chair and spoke solemnly, even clearing her throat.

  Though this happened every year, she would never ask for it herself.

  “Yes, yes, I understand, milady.”

  Lawrence wore a tired smile and took in his hand a brush that still smelled of the forest.

  It was like peeling an onion, where it seemed as if one layer of skin suddenly turned into two; an optical illusion.

  That was what maintaining Holo’s tail felt like every year.

  Once they ordered the new brushes, Lawrence was always the one to do the first brushing, and after that, he would only do so when Holo asked.

  And this year, she had been asking much more than usual from the very start. Once a bit of his work was done and after he had finished lunch, Lawrence was in the room with Holo, who lay over his lap facedown.

  Her freshly brushed tail waved about as she dozed lazily.

  The great wisewolf was rather particular about caring for her tail, and under no circumstances had she allowed Lawrence to touch it for quite some time back when they first started traveling together. When that thought crossed his mind, he got a real sense for how much she trusted him, and a smile spread across his face. It was also an expression of resignation at how idle she looked, since the motherly poise she had so refined had been completely discarded ever since Myuri left.

  Lawrence pulled out the hairs tangled in the brush and added them to the mountain of fur that had been stuffed in a bag.

  He always thought about making a cushion out of it, but Holo consistently refused: “I am the one who sits atop you, not the other way around.”

  Regardless of who sat on top of whom, his merchant’s instincts felt it somewhat of a waste. Had Holo been a sheep, it would have been unthinkable to throw away her sheared wool.

  “…Bwaaa—”

  As he was thinking, Holo made a strange sound and her body twitched.

  He thought she resembled a dog dozing outside on a warm day, but he knew well what would happen if he mentioned that out loud.

  “Hey, you’ll get sick if you don’t sleep with the covers on.”

  He said it out of consideration, but Holo began waving her tail at his face, as though telling him to be quiet.

  “Come on, sto…stop!”

  As he fought against her tail, Holo reached out to him when she had the opportunity and grabbed the nape of his neck. Oh no, he thought as he fell over, becoming the wolf’s prey.

  “…I have to go back to work soon,” he said, but Holo clung to him, her tail wagging back and forth. “I swear…You’ve been so undisciplined ever since Myuri left.”

  She had not even one word to raise a word in argument.

  Incidentally, the bit of wine Lawrence had for lunch was stronger than he had thought. He soon found himself struck with the irresistible temptation for a nap.

  He had a great deal of work he needed to do, yet he could hear the devil whispering to him that it would be all right to relax for just one day.

  As Holo’s tail moved slower and slower, Lawrence’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

  Just as his consciousness was about to fade, he somehow managed to shake away the drowsiness and got up.

  “No, I can’t. Miss Hann
a and Miss Selim are working right now.”

  Holo, still lying on the bed, shot Lawrence a spiteful look.

  “I know having to stay in the room is depressing, but there’s an exciting summer waiting for you once you get over this.”

  Anyone who ventured into the mountains could gather heaps of mushrooms and nuts, and the bees building hives in the region meant there was enough honey to fill an entire river. Fish from the rivers were more delicious in summer than they were in winter, and once the road conditions improved and grew lively with travel, herds of livestock would come—and with them, fresh uncured meat.

  That was why he had to work hard and prepare.

  “If you’re that bored, then why don’t you think of some use for this?”

  Lawrence spoke as he pointed to the bag stuffed with Holo’s hairs, and she narrowed her eyes.

  “We gather so much every year, and it takes so much time, too. It’s a waste to do nothing with it. Hey, when that noble girl came a while ago, she had a doll made from her pet dog’s fur, no?”

  It was extremely well-made, and the dancers had been quite interested in it. It had crossed his mind how rich he could be conducting trade with items such as that, but he did give up when he heard how much trouble it was to make one of those dolls.

  “Your tail hairs must be plenty blessed to keep the bears away.”

  He did not mention anything about the wolves, but the rulers of the forest would certainly keep clear if they caught Holo’s scent.

  “Fool.” Holo spoke curtly, however, and rolled over. “I am Holo the Wisewolf. To use parts of my body so easily means disaster shall befall you.”

  “That’s overdoing it.” He laughed, and Holo glared at him.

  If he were to tease her any more, she would truly get angry at him.

  “Just stay put for now.”

  With that, Holo gave a deep sigh. Her ears and tail drooped weakly, dejected.

  “I do not mind staying in the room…But how I wish to soak in the baths…”

  “Don’t do that.”

  Since they lived in the mountains, the residents were very sensitive to rumors about wandering wolves. If wolf hairs were found floating in the baths, the commotion would not end with just Holo and Lawrence’s inn. The entire village was liable to erupt into a frenzy.