Spring Log II Page 8

  It was impossible to even guess what sort of game they would be playing.

  “Oh, it’s Col. Hello. Where’s Myuri? We’ve been waiting for her at home, but she hasn’t showed up.”

  “Myuri? Umm…”

  There was no way he could say that he had made her cry, which tired her out, and she was now sleeping. Naturally, he stumbled over his words.

  Then, he picked up on the fact that Kalm mentioned they had waited for her at home.

  “Do you have a playdate with Myuri?”

  “Yes. We were going into the forest. Dadd…Father was going to come with us, so I finished helping him, got ready, and waited.”

  When he corrected himself to say “father,” Col could tell that it was the display of a young man showing off, and he could not help but smile, but something was strange. They were planning on bringing Kalm’s father into the forest, too?

  That was a bit much for children’s games. Then, he remembered what Myuri had said when she came into the bath.

  “So! I found something really cool in the forest! You’ll be so surprised, Brother!”

  Something “really cool” that required an adult from the village to be around…That meant that it had to be something like actual hunting. But if so, Kalm’s equipment did not seem to match up.

  Then, he recalled the rest of what Myuri had said.

  “So, like, let me take you into the forest, and we’ll get your—”

  What exactly had she wanted to do?

  “Well, since Myuri was the one who found it, could you tell her that she’ll get her share, even if she doesn’t come with us? Other people might take it if they find it before us, so we have to go quickly.”

  The boy, Kalm, adjusted the sack on his shoulder as he spoke.

  “I went out to look quite a bit, though I can’t match what the adults can do. But Myuri is fine going places adults are too scared to go, so she found something insane.”

  Kalm spoke excitedly, and Col remembered what she had looked like when she came to him eagerly in a happy mood. In a word, tattered.

  “Um, what was it that Myuri found in the mountains?”

  What constricted his heart was a feeling awfully similar to regret.

  He should have asked Myuri that question, not Kalm.

  “Oh, she didn’t tell you?”

  Kalm seemed surprised before he grinned.

  “An insanely huge beehive. Then, she came to Father because she wanted him to make some mead.”

  Kalm’s father, Cyrus, was a master brewer, one of the best in the village. More importantly, he mentioned mead.

  Myuri was of that age where she was eager to grow up, so she was waiting for her chance to have her turn with alcohol. But this time, there was no mistaking her goal.

  Myuri had reflected on what she did. She knew it was her fault, realized that she would be useless in stacking the stones back up, and understood perfectly that a simple apology would not be enough, so she thought of the best thing she could do and set out immediately.

  Because she knew that he had taken a liking to mead recently.

  Why had he not listened to her then? If only he had listened to what she had to say, there was no doubt he would have been overjoyed at her thoughtfulness.

  Of course Holo became be angry.

  If Col had just trusted Myuri a little more, then this misunderstanding would never have come about.

  “Kalm.”

  “Yes?”

  Col spoke to the boy.

  “Would it be all right if I went instead?”

  Kalm stared at him wide-eyed for a second before shrugging his shoulders like an adult, then spoke.

  “You’ll get stung a lot, though.”

  It was exactly what he wanted.

  Punishment must be accompanied by pain.

  Whether his face or arms, Col wrapped as much of his body in cloth as he could, then chased the angry bees away with smoke from the burning young conifer branches and finally speared the hive with a stick before dropping it into the sack. Afterward, he closed the sack and ran for it.

  It was easier said than done.

  But he finally returned to the Spice and Wolf bathhouse as the sun began to set, and when Holo came out to greet him, she leaped back in surprise.

  “…You are looking quite handsome.”

  With a wry smile, her eyes gave the impression that she was complimenting someone who had grown up.

  “Where’s Myuri?”

  “In her room. That carefree girl is still moping about. It was surely quite a weight for her to bear, yes?”

  She held back nothing, the blame clearly ringing in her words.

  “It seems you have done your part, however.”

  Holo moved to the side and allowed him passage. He had a feeling that she and Lawrence had faced similar situations many times.

  “Oh, Miss Holo, there’s a favor I’d like to ask of you.”

  “Mm? What might that be?”

  “I’d like you to taste this for me.”

  When the honest Holo heard the word taste, her ears stood straight up. She looked at the barrel he held in his arms and grinned.

  “’Twould be my pleasure.”

  They went into the kitchen and began preparing various things. Then Col headed toward Myuri’s room.

  He knocked, but there was no answer.

  She might have been sleeping, but quickly growing anxious that she might still be crying, Col placed his ear to the door.

  It was quiet.

  He knocked again, then took a deep breath and opened the door.

  “Myuri?”

  After opening it slightly, he called her name. If a pillow or a carafe or even jeers flew his way, then he would give her some more time.

  However, there seemed to be no particular rejection on her part so he opened the door completely. Myuri was curled up on the bed, spectacularly covered from head to toe in a blanket.

  “…”

  Her current state was an indication that she did not want anyone to see her face, and it almost seemed like a joke.

  But if they took the first awkward step toward making up, then surely, as the elder of the two, it was Col’s responsibility to make the first move.

  “Myuri.”

  He called her name again, and the bundle stirred.

  “Come on, cheer up now.”

  He spoke as if he was pleading with her, and a corner of the round balled-up blanket opened slightly.

  “…You’re the one who’s mad.”

  It sounded like she was sulking, but it was a weak voice, one that would shatter if he tapped it slightly.

  “I’m not angry anymore.”

  He pulled the chair from the desk, placed it beside the bed, and sat down.

  “Will you show me your face?”

  “…”

  He could only see the hand that gripped the blanket.

  It was a small, delicate hand.

  “…Bro…ther?”

  The familiar word echoed from the small gap in the blanket.

  “What is it?”

  “…I’m…sorry.”

  Though he had heard that phrase before, it almost felt like it was his first time.

  “B-but, you know, um, I, um—”

  “Myuri.”

  As he said her name, Myuri, who was about to try explaining herself with a shaky voice that made it sound like she would start crying again, shrunk farther into her blanket like a hermit crab.

  Col sighed, as if to relax himself, then continued.

  “Miss Holo told me about it earlier, but your voice really is terrible.”

  “…”

  Her voice was cracked and dry. There was a pain to it, as though it had been worn thin, and just listening to it made him want to cough. She had cried her eyes out, dehydrating herself, then likely kept crying despite that.

  Col had done something terrible.

  Myuri could fall from a cliff, end up covered in blood even as she smiled, but
the heart inside her small body was still very delicate.

  “I brought medicine. It will be good for your throat.”

  “…”

  Myuri rustled about, in order to find a place to poke her face out from the shell.

  “Miss Holo helped me. She has given her guarantee for its flavor.”

  He took the spoon sitting in the small wooden cup he held in his hands, mixed it once more, and scooped some up.

  “Mm. Delicious.”

  He gave it a taste, and it really was quite good.

  As Myuri had not even eaten lunch, it immediately caught her interest.

  “Do you want any?”

  Though she had hesitated before, she peeked out from beneath the blankets.

  “…Yes.”

  She looked like she had just recovered from illness. Her hair was a tangled mess from being in bed, and her face was puffed up.

  The area around her eyes, which looked listless, was especially bright red and swollen, giving her the appearance of a corpse.

  When Col thought about how he was the reason why she ended up like this, his heart ached, but he knew how to fix things.

  He presented the spoon to Myuri, and the worn-out girl did not even lift herself when she opened her mouth, readily accepting it.

  It was right after that when her drooping wolf ears suddenly stood up straight.

  “Th-this—”

  Myuri was surprised, and then she finally noticed how Col looked.

  “B-b-brother, your face…”

  “I did not expect that taking down a beehive would be such a hassle.”

  No matter how much armor he donned, the bees would slip in somewhere and sting him.

  Every bit of him had swollen up, and it seemed like it would be hard to even wash his own face for a while.

  “How is the medicine, by the way? This is squeezed juice of ginger added to honey, then mixed with a bit of wine. I’ve heard that royal songstresses have this when they catch colds.”

  Myuri looked back and forth between his face and the cup in his hand before she finally smiled slightly.

  “It’s good.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I want more.”

  Col got the sense that she was returning to her regular self, but of course, he did not discourage her.

  He scooped another spoonful and fed her. Myuri happily flopped her tail about.

  “Oh, but if I have too much, you won’t…”

  “It’s all right. A waterfall of honey came out of the beehive. And as there is both honey and wine in this, if we leave it too long, it will become alcohol. Eat it quickly.”

  “…I wanna try the alcohol one.”

  “You may not.”

  Myuri puffed out her cheeks, and it seemed everything was back to normal.

  But when she deliberately deflated her cheeks, Col was shocked when he got the feeling she would start crying again the moment she smiled.

  As a matter of fact, she was already rubbing at her eyes as she smiled.

  “Brother, you dummy.”

  There was no need to inquire further as to what she meant.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Then, with a satisfied smile, Myuri opened her mouth in a request for more honey, but suddenly, she looked at him and her expression told him she had noticed something.

  “What is it?”

  As soon as he asked, she leaned forward without any notice and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  He heard the telltale smooch, then Myuri backed away slowly.

  It was so sudden. She smiled at him with her head tilted to the side, but he could not move. She, of course, knew he lived strictly by the teachings of God and had taken vows of abstinence. She always teased and played with that understanding.

  “Myuri, do I need to lecture you again?”

  “It wasn’t a prank. I heard that the fastest way to heal beestings is to suck out the poison. It’s a cure!”

  She always had a quip prepared.

  And she loved pranks more than anything.

  “I tried it with my arms and stuff, but…”

  Myuri slowly placed her fingers on the collar of her clothes, then quickly turned the back of her neck to him.

  “I was stung here, too.”

  There was definitely a sting mark on her thin, white neck. She had also pulled her collar quite low, and baring her pale neck like that was dreadfully sensational, so it was less of a beesting and more a stab to Col’s eye. Her actions were too suggestive, likely due to the influence of the musicians and dancer girls who came to the bathhouse and thought it was funny to teach her these things.

  But Myuri was Myuri. The alluring aura that was much too old for her vanished in an instant, and her tail began to thump on the bed. She was having too much fun with her prank. She leaned forward even more.

  Realizing it was the regular Myuri he knew well, Col was able to react with a cool head. He retrieved cartilage from a shell at his chest, and rubbed it on her neck, as she cheerfully had her eyes closed, waiting for a kiss.

  “This is medicine from Mr. Cyrus. He said it works very well.”

  He deliberately smiled at her, and Myuri pursed her lips and furrowed her eyebrows, as if it was not a joke.

  “Sheesh, Brother, you don’t understand anything!”

  “I do, too. I see through all of your tricks.”

  “Boo!”

  She shouted, then opened her mouth wide.

  “Honey!”

  It was an unladylike sight, as she opened her mouth so wide that he could see the back of her throat, but it oddly suited her. And he felt like he had seen this somewhere before.

  He scooped some honey and brought the spoon to her mouth, which closed around it with a sharp sound. Then, he remembered. That wide-open mouth foretold that one day Myuri would bite him on the head.

  “Do you want more?”

  And yet, he posed his question calmly, without getting flustered.

  At the very least, as long as there was good food around, she would be in a good mood.

  “Yeah!”

  Her voice rang throughout the dusk in the season of new green.

  GROOMING SHEEP AND WOLF

  If he counted, it wound up being a little more than ten years since he opened a bathhouse in a hot spring village deep in the mountains. Basically, he had been working as a bathhouse master longer than he had spent alone as a traveling merchant.

  I see, I’m getting older…

  Lawrence thought this to himself as he lay on his back in the bed of his wagon; he gazed up at the sky.

  “Come now, you fool. Have you not woken yet?”

  As that voice called to him, fur landed on his face. He looked up through the fur, which smelled like straw that had dried under plenty of sunlight paired with the scent of sweet boiled honey, and he could see a beautiful display of well-combed coat glinting in the sun.

  “I don’t mind if you drive the wagon. You’ve sat next to me and watched me hold the reins for years, haven’t you?”

  His reply came through the fur that swished mischievously across his face.

  “I am Holo the Wisewolf of Yoitsu. Such a prideful wolf would not deign to grasp the reins of a horse.”

  The fur removed itself from his face, and a girl peered down at him with her arms crossed in dissatisfaction.

  She had flaxen-colored hair and reddish-amber eyes. Then, there were large, triangular wolf ears the same color as her hair and a fluffy tail swaying back and forth beneath her coat. Though they met over ten years ago, her appearance had not changed at all.

  Holo, who had called herself the Wisewolf of Yoitsu, was not human, as she was a kind of spirit that lived in wheat and was the embodiment of a wolf.

  “…Then, hold on a little bit. My back hurts…”

  “Hah…”

  Holo sighed deliberately, and once she unfolded her arms, she began to rustle through the luggage.

  “And this is the result of a male’s hard w
ork.”

  She glanced at him sideways with irritated eyes.

  “Was the festival in that town not several days ago now? How pathetic it is that you sit all day in the driver’s perch and then cannot move from back pain.”

  She pulled out a large piece of bread, butter, then cheese and honey from the bag.

  “H-hey, you can’t seriously plan on eating all that at…ow, ow…”

  They were all gifts of thanks from the money changers’ association at the town they had just been staying at, Svernel. Lawrence visited as a representative of Nyohhira, where his bathhouse was, and helped out with their big festival. It was called the Festival of the Dead, an exciting affair where they had to catch sheep and pigs running loose in the town square, and the captured animals were butchered on the spot. Due to the lupine Holo’s help, he had been able to secure a handy victory after catching an extraordinary amount, but he could not win against age.

  His muscles and joints ached as the days went by. When he finally thought he could move properly, they had left the town, but now he had ended up like this.

  “Stay where you are, fool. I shall enjoy this by myself.”

  She began putting butter directly onto the whole, big piece of round bread, not bothering to break it into pieces. She behaved a little better when their only daughter and guests were around in the bathhouse, but here, at the side of the road in the woods, there was no one around to see them.

  Once she spread on plenty of butter, Holo opened her mouth wide and bit into the bread.

  Not minding where or how the crust crumbled, her tail wagged happily, and she seemed quite satisfied.

  “Honestly…”

  Lawrence, who had a sense that nothing he said would matter, could only relax and gaze up at the sky.

  As he did so, after every third bite she took from the bread, Holo broke off a piece and fed it to him. He told himself that the pieces were rather small not because she was being stingy with what she gave him but because she was making sure that they were easy to swallow.

  Thanks to the generously salted butter, the sweetness of the wheat bread tasted even better.

  He looked up at the sky as he chewed, then swallowed. The weather was good, and there was no wind.