To the Flower Witch

Recently, I've been working on fusing geometric beauty with artistic beauty.

It doesn't do much to improve a wand's performance, but I want to care about its appearance as well as its performance. I like rugged wands too, though.

Through Professor Ohinata, I had books on mathematics and art brought in, then spent my days absorbed in reading them while keeping warm beneath a charcoal kotatsu and jotting down ideas inspired by them.

During winter, I take a break from farmwork. Thanks to the kotatsu and wood-burning stove, the room stays warm even without electricity.

For dinner, I stuff myself with freshly harvested rice cooked in an iron pot. In the morning, I add clear water, slivers of dried fish, mushrooms, dried daikon strips, and a pinch of salt to the previous day's leftover rice and bring it to a boil, making a hearty rice porridge.

All of it is delicious. As expected, new-crop rice is in a completely different league from old and older rice in every way—how it cooks, its texture, and its aroma.

Around spring this year, my homemade miso and soy sauce will finish aging. Then I can lavishly use these seasonings, practically the soul of the Japanese people, when cooking without worrying about my stock. I'm looking forward to it.

Thus, while living a leisurely life in my workshop deep in the mountains, I woke up one morning and noticed a mushroom growing out of my head.

It's been almost four years since the Gremlin disaster. I've gotten used to all sorts of outlandish events, but this one scared the hell out of me.

No way—a mushroom grew out of my head because I ate too many mushrooms!?

Though I was horrified, the mushroom on my head was an unfamiliar species. It was different from the edible mushrooms I usually gathered in the mountains.

The cap had a poisonous-looking mottled pattern of purple and red. The wrinkles on the stem looked almost like a human face.

Creepy.

It looked unhealthy, so I yanked it straight out of my head and shampooed thoroughly to wash away the roots.

After pulling out the mushroom and taking a shower, I felt like my body had become lighter. Hmm, I wonder if it was some kind of parasitic mushroom?

I didn't know whether it was a rare species native to Earth or a special-type monster, but since it had grown out of my body, I preserved the plucked mushroom in alcohol as a commemorative specimen.

Looking at the mushroom floating in the alcohol inside the bottle, I found it pretty creepy but also kind of funny. It was basically like a baby tooth that had fallen out. Probably. Who knows.

Two days after the mushroom grew, I went to visit the Blue Witch's house with the mushroom specimen and a board game. I asked her Eye familiar if I could come over, but there was no reply. Seems like I've been blocked. I've done the same thing before, so this is probably payback.

Haa, she sure is immature. Seriously.

Still, the Blue Witch had gotten pretty fired up about this board game, so if I brought it along, she'd probably accept my invitation to play.

I also wanted to ask her about the mushroom. I had the impression that witches knew a lot about this sort of mushroom. Is that just a prejudice?

When I arrived at the Blue Witch's house, I was surprised to find her lying sprawled out right inside the entrance.

"Huh?"

What is this idiot doing? Sleeping in the entryway? Is she some salaryman driven to the limit by a black company? This is way too weird.

Just as I was taking off my shoes carefully to avoid stepping on her, I noticed that she was holding a letter in one hand.

"What are you doing? What's this letter?"

What the hell? Seriously, what happened?

Come to think of it, isn't there a mushroom growing out of the Blue Witch's head too? What? Is it trendy?

Curious, I picked up the letter on a whim.

The sender was listed as the "Wizard of Foresight."

Huh. Some kind of business notice from the Witch Assembly, maybe?

I was curious about the contents, but it would be rude to stare too closely at someone else's letter.

As I tried to return the letter to the Blue Witch's hand, I realized it wasn't someone else's letter after all.

The addressee that happened to catch my eye read, "To whoever is standing at the Blue Witch's home entrance at 9:33 a.m. on February 8, 2028."

I stared at the addressee as if I could bore a hole through it, then looked at the clock on the entranceway pillar.

The clock hands showed 9:33.

"Huh..."

What is this? Creepy...

I'd heard that the Wizard of Foresight could see the future, but can they really do this?

This is scary. They've got all my personal information laid bare.

Wait, it seems they don't know my name, so it's not like they know everything?

I looked around without thinking. Could the Wizard of Foresight be watching what I was doing at this very moment? Even if they were, there'd be nothing I could do about it, but it gave me an unpleasant feeling.

After staring at the letter's addressee and thinking for a while, I called out to the Blue Witch sprawled at my feet.

"Hey, this is addressed to me, right? Can I read it?"

But there was no reply.

It was so quiet that I suddenly became worried and brought my hand close to her mouth, but she was breathing faintly.

Oh, she was alive. Thank goodness.

She really sleeps like the dead, doesn't she? I'd never seen her asleep before, so I didn't know.

It seemed wrong to leave her sleeping on the cold earthen floor of the entryway, so I dragged her onto the soft entrance mat in the hallway.

I took off my winter coat, draped it over her, then opened the letter and began to read.

'Nice to meet you. I am a member of the Tokyo Witch Assembly known as the Wizard of Foresight.

I saw the future in which you are reading this letter here and now, and I am writing it based on that vision.

Time is of the essence. I'll get straight to the point.

I want you to go to the Flower Witch immediately and obtain the cure for this terrible plague.

If possible, I would like you to read the rest while making your way to the Flower Witch, but unfortunately, you probably couldn't accept such a sudden request without an explanation.

First, let me review what is happening. You may already know some of this, but I want to explain it logically to avoid any mistakes.

Currently, a strange disease causing mushrooms to grow out of people's heads is spreading explosively, centered on Tokyo.

These mushrooms grow by draining stamina and magic power from their parasitized hosts, and the symptoms have three stages.

First is the incubation period. Infected people are completely unaware of it and are perfectly healthy. Even in this state, they are highly contagious and spread the infection to those around them.

Next is the pre-onset stage. The draining of stamina and magic power begins, and the infected are overcome by lethargy.

After that comes the post-onset stage, in which mushrooms grow on their heads from the nutrients they have drained.

This later stage produces one of two sets of symptoms, depending on the circumstances.

The mild type and the fulminant type.

The mild type is exactly that—mild. Even after a mushroom grows out of the head, the symptoms remain limited to a slight fever.

Even those symptoms disappear once the mushroom is removed, and the disease is completely cured by that alone.

Judging from the view I had of your back, you did not have a mushroom growing out of your head.

So either you are uninfected, or you developed the mild type, cut off the mushroom, and have already recovered. You may rest easy.

The problem is the fulminant type.

Anyone who has experienced even one fainting spell from magic-power depletion after infection will invariably progress from the mild type to the fulminant type.

In the post-onset stage of the fulminant type, stamina and magic power are drained violently.

The infected become unable to use magic, and removing the mushroom actually worsens their condition. Moreover, the mushroom immediately regenerates.

As magic power and stamina are rapidly depleted, symptoms including clouded consciousness and loss of the five senses appear, followed by coma. Once it reaches that point, even an IV drip won't work. The depletion continues, all nutrients are drained away, and the victim dies.

Thus, those who develop the fulminant type die within two to five days. Unfortunately, the fatality rate is 100 percent.'

After reading that far, I looked away from the letter and gazed down at the Blue Witch, who lay utterly motionless on the mat.

I nervously removed the mask she always wore, revealing the beautiful face of a young woman, now ashen.

Whaaat!?

Her complexion is awful! This is the fulminant type! One-hundred-percent fatal!

Why am I just standing around in the entryway leisurely reading a letter!?

It says the Flower Witch has the cure!?

You idiot, we're leaving right now!

"Hey, hang on! I'm taking you to the Flower Witch's place right now!"

After squishing the Blue Witch's cheeks and calling out to her, I hurried to the shed in the back garden and fetched a handcart.

I carefully lifted the Blue Witch, carried her using the strength I'd built up through farmwork, and laid her down on the handcart with a blanket spread across it.

Then I securely tied the bicycle and handcart together with a short rope, looked at the map of Tokyo, and confirmed the route to Taito Ward and Arakawa Ward, where the Flower Witch had established her base.

This is probably the best I can do. Full speed ahead. I have to reach the Flower Witch before the Blue Witch dies and make her drink the cure.

I stuffed the map into my pocket and straddled the saddle.

Then, as I began pedaling the bicycle's heavy pedals, I read the rest of the letter from the Wizard of Foresight.

If this letter ends with "The prank was a huge success!" I'm going to punch you.

'The only way to treat fulminant mushroom disease is the one effective cure held by the Flower Witch.

However, unfortunately, she will never give the cure to anyone but you. You alone can obtain it. I want you to negotiate with the Flower Witch and acquire the cure by any means necessary.

As for the terms of the trade, they will be neither painful nor difficult for you.

The Flower Witch knows roughly what is going to happen. The negotiations should proceed smoothly.

Speaking with her will make you feel as if she can predict the future, but that is not quite right.

I would prefer you not mention this to others, but I once made a deal with the Flower Witch.

As a result of that deal, I use half my magic power to see the Flower Witch's future. That is why the Flower Witch knows the future.

I could not fully understand the meaning of the scenes from the future that I saw, but the Flower Witch apparently understood it when she heard my account. She needs you, and you need her, if you seek the cure for the Blue Witch.

Unfortunately, that is all the information I can give you.

There is surely still information you wish to know. I, too, have countless things I want to tell you and ask you.

However, it seems any more information would be counterproductive.

You need only face the Flower Witch just as you are.

Apparently, that will draw the best possible future toward you. For everyone.

Once you successfully obtain the cure, use it on the Blue Witch first, then deliver the remainder to the Bunkyo Ward Office. If I am still alive, I will take care of the rest. Even if I am dead, my subordinates and the survivors of the Witch Assembly will somehow bring the situation under control.

I wish you luck.

Wizard of Foresight'

The letter remained serious from beginning to end, about as far from a prank as possible.

On the way to Taito Ward, the Flower Witch's base, I witnessed the reality of the pandemic, which was anything but a prank.

My worry about someone speaking to me along the way proved—unfortunately—unfounded.

Almost every person I encountered on the main road I traveled was lying collapsed.

If they were merely lying there, that would have been the better outcome; half of them had mushrooms growing out of their heads. Some mushrooms, swollen larger than their hosts' heads, emitted faint cries from their ugly, human-face-like wrinkles, like fingernails scraping across a blackboard. It was hellish that those cries sounded louder than living humans calling for help.

One of the things I hate most is being spoken to by people.

But being called to in horrid, incomprehensible cries by parasitic mushrooms making twisted smiles—I could tell they were smiling!—was many times worse.

In the city center, the smell of something burned stung my nose.

Houses were being set on fire.

People covered from head to toe in ugly patchwork plastic suits—chemical protection suits, maybe?—were setting fire to houses.

Some of the plastic-suited groups were brawling or arguing with people who looked strong and were armed. I had no intention of eavesdropping, but they were shouting at each other, red-faced and loud, so I couldn't help hearing both sides' claims.

Apparently, the plastic-suit groups called themselves "Purification Teams," and were burning mushroom-infected corpses along with their houses to prevent the infection from spreading. Maybe they were doing it out of goodwill or a sense of duty, but judging from the letter, their actions seemed meaningless. If anything, the risk of the fires spreading made them harmful.

The armed group was the security corps. Normally, fighting monsters was their main job, but they had been called out to deal with the Purification Teams and were furious. Monsters continued appearing normally in the middle of the pandemic, so they were enraged at the Purification Teams for adding unnecessary work. There were even scenes where they blasted the Purification Teams with magic and beat them down—the teams were effectively a mass-arson group.

Tokyo had split into extremes: areas that were deathly silent and districts in an uproar over fires and skirmishes. Nowhere was normal.

I should have looked suspicious, pulling a handcart behind my bicycle with my hood pulled low, but there were endless people even more suspicious than me, so I didn't stand out by comparison.

The Purification Teams of course stood out badly in their patchwork plastic suits covering them from head to toe, but there were all kinds of others as well: someone covered from head to toe in empty cans of mold remover, laughing maniacally; someone dragging a basket larger than their own height and collecting mushrooms from corpses with dead eyes; someone spraying spit and delivering a grand speech in some foreign language; people praying to crosses assembled from scrap lumber; and so on.

Passing among such visibly dangerous-looking people was terrifying, but the Blue Witch dying behind me pushed me onward. I pedaled while looking down to avoid eye contact, heading toward my destination.

Honestly, I'd thought the Blue Witch was invincible, the strongest creature in existence. I'd never imagined she could get injured or sick.

But apparently even the Blue Witch could end up on the brink of death.

The Blue Witch is my only friend.

If I let her die, I'll never find another friend.

Not once have I ever thought being alone was painful.

And I never will.

But there are times when having two people makes me happy.

So the Blue Witch is my one and only... wait a second.

Professor Ohinata?

Right. That stoat girl must have progressed to the fulminant type too! There's no way someone working full tilt on experiments as a professor of magical linguistics hasn't experienced fainting from magic-power depletion.

Crap. Professor isn't my friend, but I don't want her to die. Once I've given the Blue Witch the cure, I have to hurry to Magic University. For now, my priority is saving the Blue Witch and Professor Ohinata.

And the Wizard of Foresight too, while I'm at it. They gave me advice. Professor Handa too, maybe? Professor Handa is my rather nice rival... my foil. Please stay alive.

And I don't want to see the Witch of Hell growing mushrooms and dying somewhere on her travels, either. The Dragon Witch, too... actually, never mind the Dragon Witch.

Looking back, I've gotten to know quite a lot of people.

They're all basically strangers to me, but they'd all be people I'd be depressed to see die. I don't want to meet them, but I want them to live healthy lives outside my field of vision.

For that too, I need the Flower Witch's cure. If I can't get the witch's medicine, I won't be able to save even the Blue Witch, let alone Professor Ohinata.

It took me about five hours after leaving Ome City, pedaling until my legs felt ready to burst and huffing and puffing my way into Taito Ward.

The Flower Witch controlled an area spanning Taito Ward and Arakawa Ward. The boundary of the Flower Witch's territory was easy to identify. Abandoned cars covered in creeping vines had been piled up along the border of her domain.

There was only one way in or out: a gate made in a gap between the abandoned cars. Yet despite the gate, there were no guards.

I had no idea why, but it was convenient.

I passed through the gate into the Flower Witch's territory and wondered what I should do.

I'd made it to the Flower Witch's doorstep, but I didn't know where in the district the witch was.

She had to be somewhere. But where?

Isn't there some kind of signboard? One with the witch's house listed on it, like a tourist attraction.

I really don't want to grab a passerby and ask, "Where is the Flower Witch's house?"

As I looked around anxiously while searching for a signboard, a thick tree root suddenly broke through the ground and poked its face out.

I wasn't scared, but I recoiled so hard that I nearly tumbled off the bicycle. The tree root moved as if beckoning me, pointing repeatedly down the main road.

"Um, uh, are you the Flower Witch?"

When I asked timidly, the tree root gave no answer. It withdrew into the ground and vanished.

...This is that thing, right? The one mentioned in the Wizard of Foresight's letter.

The bit about the Flower Witch knowing roughly what was going to happen, so things would proceed smoothly.

I obediently proceeded in the direction the root had pointed.

Toward the center of her territory, where the Flower Witch held court.

I don't know what will happen next, but I'll go there just as I am, just like the letter said.

That should resolve everything.

Surely.