17 end

I hope we will meet again.
Jyumonji Ao



#1 Thanks to You, I...
He stood before a white stone on a hill in the middle of a rainstorm that was heavy, but not too unbearable.
He wasn’t alone. There was a line of men and women wearing white capes behind him.
“It’s like the sky is crying...” one of them said. He turned to look for whoever it was, but soon gave up. It could have been any of them. He didn’t care. But then why had he turned around?
The white stone bore a crescent moon and a name.
Kimura.
His clan, Orion, had lost five people taking Mt. Grief. The priest
Kimura and the warrior Matsuyagi had fallen in the battle against the Lich King. The thief Tsuguta had fought to open the gate, but died there. Then the hunter Uragawa and the mage Tomida had been caught in the crossfire when Sir Unchain sent in Dark to support the detached force.
As he looked at the five stones in front of him, he wondered what the hell he was doing.
The battle was over. Their detachment had only lost five people, all members of Orion. The main force had lost seventy members of the Frontier Army. But the thirty members of Orion under Hayashi were all safe, and between the Wild Angels, Iron Knuckle, and the Berserkers, only three volunteer soldiers had died.
The operation had been a success. They hadn’t been able to wipe out the remnants of the Southern Expedition, who had been holed up in the old castle, but they had managed to dislodge them. Zan Dogran and the orcs had retreated to the north, while the kobolds were fleeing back to the Cyrene Mines. It wasn’t clear what the undead were doing, but the speculation was that the majority had gone with Zan Dogran.
Five people dead. It was a painful loss, but not outside the realm of expectation. He hadn’t believed for a second that they would take the castle without losing anyone. Someone in Orion might die. Or someone in another clan. The only death that had to be avoided at all costs was his own. So long as he didn’t die, there was no problem.
His wish had been granted.
What was he doing in front of these dead people’s graves?
Intellectually, he understood it. This was a necessary ceremony. His comrades had died. Five of them. The dead needed to be mourned. He needed to make a show of grieving their loss, so he’d brought his comrades who had not died, buried the dead, and given something of a eulogy for them. What had he said? He didn’t really remember now. Some of the members were still weeping or putting arms around one another’s shoulders, so whatever it was must have been appropriate.
I’m done. I’ve had enough of this. To be honest, if there’s one thing I hate about losing comrades, it’s the need to mourn them afterward. It’s depressing. Once they’re dead, they’re gone. What reason is there to think about someone who doesn’t even exist? Sadness. Grief. What could be more pointless?
“I’m sorry,” he said without turning to face his comrades. “Could you give me some time alone?”
He couldn’t say, You’re depressing, so beat it already.
His comrades left. Their one saving grace was that they did whatever he told them to. Of course, that was how he’d taught them to be. What good were comrades if he couldn’t make them move as he would his own hands and feet anyway? They’d only be a liability.
He waited until his comrades were totally out of sight.
A quick scan of the hill around him. No sign of anyone. He ran his fingers through his rain-drenched hair, sighing.
“You really went and did it this time...” Why did he even say that?
He looked at the grave marker.
“Kimura. I never thought you’d die protecting me. That was stupid.”
Kimura must have known he was only being used. They were using each other, though when you boil it down, isn’t that what friendship is? It was easy to picture Kimura saying that. In that fake polite tone of his. With that creepy laugh. Kimura had kept others at a distance with feigned eccentricity, all while carefully monitoring them. He’d been uniquely perceptive. When handled properly, Kimura had been useful.
“I had planned to get a lot more work out of you still. Fool that you were, you were genuinely concerned for me. I’m sure you would have done things I didn’t plan on. Gained access to information I never could. But if I asked, you would always tell me. You were still useful. It’s utterly stupid that you died. Died protecting me. Did you think I was in need of your protection? I know, hindsight is always twenty-twenty. But I could have blocked it. Because I have relics. The shield of protection, Guardian. And the decapitating blade, Beheader. It’s always relics that are the key.” He looked toward the Forbidden Tower.
“Sir Unchain. Ainrand Leslie. The...person, if you can call him that, who possesses more relics than anyone in Grimgar. One of the five princes, confidants of the No-Life King, who was said to be undying yet is supposed to have been killed. He even had that huge, flying kite-like relic. Relics. Relics. Relics. He gathers relics, and manipulates his comrades with them. Well, I have no intention of being that demon’s thrall. The monster will try to use me, and I will use the monster too. In a way, we’re equals. But not really. In the end, as far as that abomination is concerned, both relics and humans are only tools to be used. It’s the relics that are important. Kimura. Foolish Kimura. This is all thanks to you. If only I could say that. But you died in vain. Even if you hadn’t died, I would have gotten my hands on it.” He opened his right hand which he’d been clenching all this time.
A ring sat in his palm.
The band and prongs were made of a slightly reddish metal. It might have been an alloy of gold and something else. The stone in the prongs looked almost like a pearl, but at the same time it was clear. Only the very center was clouded, shimmering endlessly. When he looked into that impurity, he felt drawn in and wanted to turn away. But he couldn’t take his eyes off it.
“You know, the whole time, I thought it was the gauntlet too. Who would have imagined otherwise, right?”
The Lich King had turned to dust, leaving behind the clothes he was wearing, his shoes, crown, scepter, and golden gauntlet.
He’d had his eyes on the gauntlet, drawn to a certain special quality it seemed to have. This was something he’d heard from Ainrand Leslie: Every relic had its own signature energy. No matter what effect or power it manifested, that energy would always be present.
Ainrand Leslie called that energy “Elixir.” There was even apparently a relic that could measure Elixir.
Did Elixir power relics? Or did their creation cause it to gather around them? Whatever the case, in the broadest of terms, the more powerful the relic, the greater its Elixir. Disposable relics would lose their Elixir after being used. If the Elixir was removed somehow, a relic would be turned into just another object with no power at all.
Once a person had been in contact with a number of relics, they started to be able to tell when something was one. Humans probably had the ability to sense Elixir. He only got a vague sense that something was off about them, but other people saw them emitting light or smelled them giving off a particular scent.
“I was so sure it was the gauntlet...”
He’d lifted up the gauntlet, trying to get a sense of its weight. He’d brought it to his face, scrutinizing it closely. He’d even sniffed it. And yet, he hadn’t detected what he was looking for. It had to be the gauntlet. But something was wrong. Something was different. As he tried to determine what was so off, he’d slowly turned the gauntlet around, shaking it, and there was a sound. Something moving inside the gauntlet. Was that it?
Oh, I see. It wasn’t the golden gauntlet. It was inside it.
Just as he’d been about to fish it out, Renji had asked, “What are you planning to do with that?”
Renji also thought the gauntlet was the relic. But that wasn’t all. Renji saw through him. Saw he was trying to take the relic for himself. With this limitless power, the king who did not sleep, even in death, had formed soldiers from sand and bone, reigning over the Graveyard for a time too long to contemplate. Or rather, it was this power that had kept the king from sleeping even in death. It was as if Renji saw that his goal all along had been to acquire that relic.
He’s too dangerous, he decided. How much does Renji know? I’m not sure. But I can’t push things forward too forcefully while a man like Renji is suspicious of me. He’s experienced and will soon be on the same level as Souma or Akira. I’d rather not end up in a situation where I need him eliminated.
“I put on a little act. I was always good at that. I’m pretty much always acting, after all.”
He’d destroyed the gauntlet as Renji watched. There’d been a risk he would destroy the relic inside it too. But he knew it wasn’t that large, probably a ring that the Lich King had been wearing under the gauntlet. Based on where the sound had come from, it had most likely been on his middle or ring finger. That was what gave him the idea. He was confident he could pull it off. And he did.
“That’s right... Your death wasn’t in vain, Kimura. Because you died, I was able to do that in a fit of anger. Thanks to you, I was able to put on a convincing act. One full of passion. Under the guise of sorrow, I was able to acquire this ring.”
He gripped the ring tightly in his hand and smiled.
“Rejoice, Kimura. This is all thanks to you.”


 
#2 True Feelings
Why had Haruhiro come to Sherry’s Tavern just to sit down? Because he wanted to be alone. Why had he wanted to be alone? Maybe because he wanted to think long and hard about some things. Or perhaps there wasn’t anything he wanted to do. He might have wanted to do nothing. And for that he needed to be alone. When he was with his comrades, he couldn’t just stay quiet the whole time; they’d end up talking about something or other. Just thinking, on its own, was heavy enough.
In his head, he understood. They needed to have a proper talk.
“Shihoru...”
If one of his comrades had been injured—or even died—in Dark’s attack, he’d have been forced to confront the issue. Such an outcome was hardly impossible. Far from it.
Orion’s hunter and mage had both been killed by Dark, after all.
He didn’t think Shihoru had meant to attack their platoon. Her goal must have been to support them, or rather to support the operation to retake Mt. Grief. But had she been taking care to prevent harm to the detached force? Had she tried not to hurt Haruhiro and the others? It would be nice if she had, but Shihoru hadn’t even recognized him. She didn’t remember. She’d forgotten.
Shihoru and Io’s party had likely joined the operation to take Mt. Grief under the orders of the master of the Forbidden Tower. They’d accomplished their objective, then taken off.
It seemed likely that Jin Mogis was in league with the master of the Forbidden Tower. That was why the master had sent reinforcements to help take Mt. Grief. Powerful reinforcements. If Shihoru hadn’t shown up, they wouldn’t have been able to open the gates. The operation would have failed, and the detached force might have been wiped out.
The end result was that Shihoru had saved them.
So wasn’t it possible to look at it another way? Shihoru had pretended not to know Haruhiro. Maybe she was being threatened by the master of the Forbidden Tower or Jin Mogis and had to do their bidding. That was why she was acting like she’d forgotten. She actually remembered and had just saved them.
It’s raining outside, thought Haruhiro.
The doors and windows were wide open, so he could hear it clearly.
“I can’t imagine that was an act... Shihoru doesn’t remember. She forgot again... Again. Our memories were stolen before. That’s what was done to her.”
“What’re you mumbling about? It’s creepy.”
The masked dread knight stepped into the tavern and immediately removed his rain-soaked cloak, then started swinging it around. His lack of social graces always rubbed Haruhiro the wrong way.
“How’d you know...? I never said I was coming here.”
“We always used to come here. Even if you don’t remember that, your feet turn this way on their own. That’s how it works.”
Ranta picked up one of the toppled chairs and walked over to Haruhiro.
“This was our table,” he said, throwing his cloak down on top of it, then sat in the chair he had brought over and removed his mask. “Our usual seat in the dark corner. We were always outcasts, after all. This ringing any bells?”
“Nah... Not at all.”
“Well, it’s nothing worth going to the trouble of remembering anyway. We’d gripe and argue like idiots. I mean, we genuinely were idiots. It’s a dark chapter of my history. I’m almost jealous that you were able to forget it.”
As he crossed his legs, leaning over a little to rest his elbows on the table and his head on his hands, Haruhiro noticed the expression on Ranta’s face wasn’t as edgy as usual. Who did he think he was kidding, saying he was jealous of Haruhiro for forgetting? Ranta was clearly reminiscing about the time they’d spent here.
“We all came here...together?”
Haruhiro was the one who felt jealous. If he couldn’t remember what he’d lost, he shouldn’t have been able to miss it. So why did his chest feel so tight?
“Like with Manato...and Moguzo?”
“Yeah...” Ranta cocked his head to the side, then a sigh escaped from the corner of his mouth. “Well, no. It started after Manato kicked the bucket, I guess. We only knew him for a short time, really. Moguzo, though, he came here with us a whole lot.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“It was you, me, and him... We’d start arguing, and then Moguzo would stop us. If he was still alive, he’d have made one hell of a warrior by now. But what can you do? Life’s just one big roll of the dice...”
“Yeah. He rolled, all right...”
“What was that, some lame attempt at a joke?”
“Uh, no...”
“What, can’t you even joke around? Man, you have no sense of humor.”
“I know I’m a humorless guy. I’ll bet I always have been.”
“From day one. It’s the one thing about you that’s never changed.”
“Yeah, yeah...”
“And about me.”
Ranta looked down at the table, falling silent for a while. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak again.
“I did a whole lot of stupid shit. I can’t fix the past. Not even if I could forget it, like you people. The facts won’t change. The guys we lost ain’t coming back.”
Haruhiro couldn’t nod, couldn’t say anything in response.
He had to accept the facts, whether they were about things he’d forgotten or things he remembered. He couldn’t make it so they’d never happened, and couldn’t twist them either.
“So, listen...”
“Hm?”
“I love Yume.”
“Yeah... Yeah?”
Haruhiro stopped and stared at Ranta.
Ranta was looking away awkwardly.
I probably didn’t mishear that. Well, it’s no big surprise. Anyone could see it. Like, yeah, I already knew. But I never would have expected Ranta to come out and say it like that.
“Have you...told her that directly?”
“As if I could, moron.” Ranta was touching his face all over. Even if he was trying to hide his embarrassment, it was excessive. “Listen, man... It’s not like that. When I say I...love Yume. It’s not that I want to do anything to her. Well, okay, that’s not entirely true, but—”
“So you do, then...”
“Of course I do! Who the hell do you think I am?”
“Who do you want me to think you are?”
“I’m Ranta the Great, got it? But, well, as far as she’s concerned... Agh...”
Ranta cleared his throat and scowled. He hemmed and hawed for a long time, then finally mumbled, “It’s just... I just want her to be happy, I guess? She loves her comrades and her friends, and when we’re smiling, she’s able to smile too. That’s why she tried to get stronger. And she really did. Don’t tell her I said any of this, though. I think she’s incredible. She can be a bit of an airhead, but she’s one badass woman. I want... I want her to always be able to smile. I want to make her smile...myself.”
“Your love feels more...pure than romantic, I guess.”
“Man, do you hear yourself? Aren’t you embarrassed?”
“I think the stuff you’ve been saying’s way more embarrassing...”

 

“You don’t have to point it out! I know, damn it!”
His ears were beet red. Haruhiro decided not to push the point. Call it a warrior’s mercy. Not that Haruhiro was a warrior. He was just a lowly thief.
It was embarrassing just listening, but Haruhiro was genuinely impressed.
Ranta. He loves Yume that much. He loves her like that. Genuinely, and from the bottom of his heart.
“Anyway...” Ranta crossed his arms, looking off to the side.
“Shihoru’s our comrade, and more importantly, she’s Yume’s friend. Not that she’d say that now. They’re both girls, and probably had a sisterly bond going too.”
“So, for Yume’s sake...you want to—”
“Yeah, you’ve got it.”
“Oh...”
Haruhiro wanted to say it. He couldn’t help himself. That Shihoru didn’t remember any of them. That her memories had been erased.
“You want to go home, right?”
That’s what Io had said to Shihoru. Go home. What did that mean? Go home to where? Did she have a home to go back to? Haruhiro didn’t know, but just like Io’s party, Shihoru was working for the master of the Forbidden Tower.
“She was alive,” Ranta said, smiling faintly. It looked forced, but it also suited him. “Shihoru’s alive. That’s a step forward, isn’t it?”
Haruhiro closed his eyes. His shoulders had tensed up a lot without him realizing it, but the tension was fading away now. He could breathe easier.
For a moment, an image of a gentle giant, holding a mug as he looked at them with a slightly troubled smile, flashed through Haruhiro’s vision.
Who could it be?
No.
Haruhiro knew. He didn’t remember, but he knew.
It’s Moguzo.
“Isn’t it great, though?”
He even felt like he could hear his voice.
“Shihoru-san’s okay. That’s great. Don’t you think so too, Haruhiro-kun?”
“Yeah, it is...”
Haruhiro opened his eyes. Was that man really Moguzo? Was that Moguzo’s face? Was that his voice? Had he spoken like that?
Haruhiro had no way to check. Moguzo was dead. The past in which Moguzo died was part of the reason Haruhiro was who he was now. But still, he wished Moguzo could be here.
The day when he would have to think of Shihoru in the same way hadn’t come yet.
“We’re moving forward.”
“At breakneck speed too. You better keep up, man. I’m damn fast.”
“If you trip, I’m leaving you in the dust.”
“Don’t forget you said that. Life’s always trying to trip us up, but even when he falls, the great Ranta doesn’t get back up without something to show for it.”
I’m glad you’re here, man.
Haruhiro only thought it. It was just one of those things that, no matter how he truly felt, he could never have brought himself to say out loud.
 
Bonus Short Stories
Scene #26: Curly and Silver Manzai Comedy Script #4
By: Tanaka Renji
Ranta: Hello. This is Curly and Silver. I’m curly-haired Ranran.
Renji: And I’m silver-haired Renren.
Ranta: If you remember one thing from all this, we hope it’s the names Curly and Silver.
Renji: Hey, wait.
Ranta: What?
Renji: Just our names? You’re really fine with that being all they remember?
Ranta: Well, yeah, I am. I’m not not fine with it.
Renji: I’m asking if you’ll be satisfied with them only remembering our names.
Ranta: Well, no, not satisfied, but I do want them to remember them.
Renji: I don’t care.
Ranta: What do you mean you don’t care?
Renji: They don’t need to remember our names.
Ranta: Then what do you want them to remember?
Renji: They don’t need to remember anything.
Ranta: What’s that supposed to mean?
Renji: It means that’s not what I’m doing manzai for.
Ranta: What are you doing manzai for?
Renji: Not to be remembered, that’s for sure.
Ranta: So, what for, then?
Renji: Isn’t it obvious? To make the audience laugh. To see their smiles.
(Applause)
Ranta: Hey, hey, hey, this script you gave me, it says ‘Applause’ here. You’re just assuming the audience is gonna applaud? What’re you going to do if they don’t?
Renji: I believe.
Ranta: Believe in what?
Renji: I believe in their smiles. I believe in the wonderful today and tomorrow those smiles will show us.
(Applause)
Ranta: Hey, you’re assuming they’ll applaud again! Is this seriously okay?!
Renji: Are you okay, assuming that it won’t be okay?
Ranta: What’s that supposed to mean?
Renji: What are you, a broken robot? “What’s that supposed to mean? What’s that supposed to mean?” That’s all you keep saying.
Ranta: No, listen, I’m just following the script you wrote! You’re the one making me say, “What’s that supposed to mean?” Renji: Oh, geez.
Ranta: Geez, what?
Renji: I don’t like this sort of thing, where the audience gets a peek behind the curtain, or we tell in-jokes. It’s not funny.
Ranta: Which is why that’s exactly the kind of gag you wrote here?
Renji: Even if it is, I want to keep it a secret. I want the audience to be able to enjoy themselves from the bottom of their hearts.
Ranta: (Applauds)
Ranta: Wait... Why am I the one applauding?! I’m not gonna do it. No way in hell!
Renji: Well, don’t then. What’s the point in doing something you don’t want to, just to get a laugh out of people? I mean, you’ll never get a genuine laugh that way, right? Besides, I don’t know that I like that turn of phrase, ‘get a laugh out of people’. Make them laugh? Sure. But get a laugh out of them, I dunno.
Ranta: Fine, I’m done then.
Renji: Done with what?
Ranta: With trying to get a laugh out of people. I quit. I’m out. I’m done-zo.
Renji: So, what are you going to do? What do you want to do?
Ranta: I want to do manzai with you! That’s all! Don’t make me say this stuff, it’s embarrassing!
Renji: We’re doing manzai. Right now.
Ranta: Yeah, sure! But I want it to be more...I dunno. Manzai’s gotta be like...
Renji: I’ve gotta make a speech at a wedding. I want to practice.
Ranta: Yeah, like that! That’s the kind of thing you do in manzai!
Renji: I dunno about practicing a speech in front of the audience. I’m gonna head home and do it there.
Ranta: Here I thought we were finally getting started, but you’re actually going home?! What the hell, man?! Oh, enough of this! I’m done.
Scene #27: Curly and Silver Manzai Comedy Script #5
By: Tanaka Renji
Ranta: Hello. This is Curly and Silver.
Renji: So, I was just talking to senpai.
Ranta: What? What’s this, out of nowhere? Senpai?
Renji: Senpai invited me to a night party.
Ranta: Night party? What, like, the kind where you go to a pool at night, and have a wild good time?
Renji: ... (Fidgets)
Ranta: What’s wrong?
Renji: ... (Fidgets) Ranta: What?
Renji: ... (Fidgets) ... Why do you think Senpai invited me?
Ranta: I guess Senpai wants to have fun at a night party with you?
Renji: Why with me, though?
Ranta: How should I know? Maybe it’s like, y’know...you’re tall, and you’ve got silver hair, and your face...yeah, it’s scary, but kind of hot in a way, I guess.
Renji: Man, have you always felt that way about me?
Ranta: No, it’s not that, it’s just that, objectively, that’s how you look. Just saying!
Renji: So you don’t feel that way then. That I’m tall, and have silver hair, and I’m hot.
Ranta: Yeah, you’re tall! And your hair’s silver. As for if you’re hot or not, well, opinions will vary on that!
Renji: I’m asking for your opinion.
Ranta: My opinion on what?
Renji: On if you think I’m hot.
Ranta: The hell if I know!
Renji: How can you not know? This is about how you feel. Am I hot, or am I not? If you don’t spell it out for me, I can’t take the next step.
Ranta: Why can’t you take the next step?! Take it. Just put one foot in front of the other. What’s it matter to you whether I think you’re really hot or not particularly hot?
Renji: Man, did you just say I’m ‘not particularly hot,’ just now?
Ranta: Yeah, I did. What of it?
Renji: Seems awfully specific. That wording. So, what, man? You think I’m not particularly hot?
Ranta: I was just presenting it as a possibility. I don’t think that you’re not particularly hot.
Renji: So you think I’m hot then?
Ranta: Why are you so fixated on this?! Man, do you like me or something?!
Renji: What’s it matter to you whether I like you or I don’t particularly like you?
Ranta: Man, did you say ‘I don’t particularly like you,’ just now? That wording seems awfully specific. So, what, man, you don’t actually like me all that much?!
Renji: I was just presenting it as a possibility. It might not be untrue to say that it might not not be the case that I don't actually like you that much, perhaps, but at the same time, it might not not be untrue.
Ranta: It might not be untrue to say that it might not not be the case that... Agh! Which is it?!
Renji: Why are you so fixated on this?
Ranta: Because I need answers! Besides, you’re the one who started this, asking if I thought you were hot or not...
Renji: Yeah, of course I’d fixate on that. So, which is it? Do you think I’m hot?
Ranta: Yeah, I kinda do, a little.
Renji: You do, huh? That’s creepy, man.
Ranta: Why?!
Renji: What’s it matter why? So, like I was saying, senpai’s invited me to go to a night party. I wonder why.
Ranta: I have no idea why anyone would invite a guy like you!
Renji: I’m done.
Ranta: Don’t you say that line! Seriously, man, give me a break. I’m done.
Scene #28: Curly and Silver Manzai Comedy Script #6
By: Tanaka Renji
Ranta: Hello. This is Curly and Silver. Oh, what’s this? Just now, we received an eighty-meter rope ladder from a member of the audience.
Renji: A rope ladder, huh?
Ranta: You can never have too much rope ladder.
Renji: I mean, it's a rope ladder.
Ranta: I know, right? There’s so many uses for it.
Renji: Just recently, my maman was saying...
Ranta: Your maman?!
Renji: My maman was saying...
Ranta: Hold it right there!
Renji: Why?
Renji: Man, you call her maman?! This is your mom, right?! What are you, Italian or something?!
Renji: Maman is French, man. Italian would be mamma.
Ranta: Huh?! Then are you French?!
Renji: Do I look French?
Ranta: Honestly, man, I don’t know! You’re got silver hair! And you’re really tall too!
Renji: Well, anyway, my maman was saying...
Ranta: What about your kaa-chan?
Renji: Don’t you go calling my maman Kato-chan.
Ranta: I didn’t call her Kato-chan. I called her your kaa-chan.
Renji: Kaa-chen, huh? Well, that’s fine, I guess.
Ranta: Not your kaa-chen, your kaa-chan, okay?! The hell is a kaachen?!
Renji: So, my kaa-chen was saying...
Ranta: Oh?! We’re going with kaa-chen here? Fine, I can roll with this.
Renji: ...she forgot the name of her favorite food.
Ranta: Huh?! How do you forget the name of your favorite food?! Well, still, if we’re talking about your kaa-chan, it’s gotta be, like, stewed beef tongue or lamb roast, right?
Renji: It’s not kaa-chan, it’s kaa-chen, okay? And I don’t know how to react when you bring up stuff I’ve never eaten before like stewed beef tongue and lamb roast.
Ranta: Why haven’t you eaten them? They’re pretty normal meals, man!
Renji: Who’s gonna make those?
Ranta: The maid, duh.
Renji: The maid?
Ranta: Uh... If you have one, I mean?
Renji: What? You’re telling me you’ve got a maid at your place?
Ranta: Forget about my place, would you?
Renji: What, man, are your folks rich or something?
Ranta: We’re not rich!
Renji: You’re not rich, but you’ve hired a maid? What? Does she come by two, three times a week or something?
Ranta: I don’t know! She’s there pretty much every day!
Renji: She is, huh? Every day. A maid. A super maid.
Ranta: She’s not a super maid. Just a normal, average, everyday maid!
Renji: I see how it is. She can make, like, seven dishes of mouthwateringly delicious food in an hour, right?
Ranta: Seven is too many. Maybe six, at best?
Renji: So she can do six. Sounds like a super something to me. She could get on TV with those skills.
Ranta: Not a something, a maid!
Renji: We don’t have a maid at my place, so I’ve only ever had my mamma’s home cooking.
Ranta: She’s changed from maman to mamma?! Did she reincarnate as an Italian or something?! What happened to the name of her favorite food?!
Renji: Oh, that. Mamma forgot, but I just remembered it.
Ranta: Well, what was it?!
Renji: Gnocchi.
Ranta: Gnocchi.
Renji: Yeah, gnocchi.
Ranta: Like, pasta?! Italian food?!
Renji: It was gnocchi. My mamma’s favorite food. Mamma, she works as a maid, you see. I hear she makes them all the time. Stewed beef tongue and lamb roast. Like, about six dishes in an hour.
Renji: Wow, she’s practically a super maid, huh?! Oh, enough of this! I’m done.




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Chapter end