Chapter 19
Some reckless sort of confidence must have begun to seep into him.
“Enya, there’s only one day left of the festival. Want to go look around with me?”
Around noon, at the Lycanthrope tavern with its striking taxidermy display, Tarmin confidently invited her to the festival.
Enya was dressed as a waitress, holding a tray against her chest.
“What? No.”
Enya answered briskly and disappeared into the kitchen. Only a few customers remained in the hall.
After a brief silence.
“…Hahaha!”
The regulars burst out laughing.
He'd meant to ask casually, in passing, but it happened to be a quiet moment when everyone had stopped talking, making it look as though he'd just been publicly rejected after a heartfelt confession.
Tarmin's face turned bright red as he became aware of everyone around him, and even that became a small source of amusement.
There were nothing but nasty people in the tavern in broad daylight.
A customer who caught Tarmin's eye covered his mouth and looked away.
The waitress who'd taken over from Enya came and set a glass of beer in front of Tarmin.
“That gentleman says it's on him.”
One of the drunks, already drinking in the middle of the day, waved at him.
“Keep your chin up!”
The custom of buying a drink for a man who'd been rejected made the lone glass of beer on the table make him look even more like a loser.
Thinking that if he had a thick enough skin, he could confess to women all over town and never go hungry, he picked up the mug of beer.
“Damn it.”
“It was a decent attempt. Not bad.”
Renzo, the mercenary from Eranche, offered some sympathetic words, but they did nothing to comfort him.
It was even more ridiculous coming from the very person who'd put the idea in his head.
“Renzo, you call that comforting? You were the one who egged me on, saying this time would work, that I had a chance!”
“Well, how am I supposed to know what a young lady's thinking? Maybe you forgot to brush your teeth before you came.”
He didn't even feel like answering. Instead, he raised his hand toward the server.
“Another one, please.”
By now a full-fledged regular, Renzo was sitting by the tavern window as usual, watching what went on inside and out.
Watching Tarmin despair with his face pressed against the cold beer mug, Renzo chuckled and put his pipe to his lips.
Even Renzo hadn't expected the young lady to reject him so flatly.
He hadn't suggested it just to humiliate young Tarmin.
Well, he had been half-teasing him, but there had been some basis for it.
**
Renzo had seen it the day before.
While working as a waitress, Enya had gazed at the silver ring on her finger.
“Hehe…”
She'd stroked the ring and grinned to herself.
Then, realizing what she was doing, she'd quickly pulled herself together.
Renzo hadn't missed a thing, and he'd gone over to speak to her.
“So, miss, I take it you went to the festival yesterday after all? Congratulations! I guess that means I won our bet?”
The young hunter and the young lady were sure to go to the Garden Festival together.
That was what he'd bet on, but while he hadn't been looking, they'd gone even further and were already exchanging rings.
But Enya looked completely bewildered.
“Huh? What are you talking about? The festival? I didn't go.”
“What? Isn't that precious ring yours—Tarmin's?”
Realizing he'd caught her grinning, Enya's cheeks turned red.
She didn't answer. Instead, she glared at Renzo for a moment, hid the hand wearing the ring, and walked away.
**
She said she hadn't gone to the festival, but they'd still reached the point of exchanging rings, hadn't they?
Renzo figured he could get his gold coins back if he just egged the young hunter on into taking her to the festival.
“You said that ring was yours, didn't you?”
“Yes. I told you it was.”
“Then isn't that all settled? Why on earth did she turn you down?”
“Renzo, if I knew why, would I be drinking a consolation beer right now? I was counting on you, you know.”
Tarmin was slumped over the table, his hand wrapped around the beer mug.
He'd trusted Renzo, thinking a man of his age would know a thing or two about women, and now he felt betrayed.
He wanted to do something Enya would like.
‘Enya only says she doesn't want to go, but really, she wants to go to the festival.’
Renzo had just been proven wrong. In front of a crowd of witnesses, no less.
For Enya and Tarmin, who'd grown up in Quaalid, this was a festival they'd attended many times already.
So it wasn't the first time in their lives that an invitation to the festival had been turned down. Still, for some reason, this time it hurt.
Negative thoughts drifted in with the alcohol.
Was Enya not tired of the festival, but actually hoping to go with someone else?
He'd never asked, but maybe she liked women.
Come to think of it, he still didn't know why she'd come back to her hometown.
If he thought about it, there'd been questions from the very beginning.
Why had she come back to this distant hometown after becoming so beautiful?
What was this illness she couldn't bring herself to talk about?
Why had she breathed a hot sigh and buried her face against his chest?
Why had she brought her red lips so close to his neck?
He'd buried all those questions in his heart, waiting for his friend to answer them someday.
“If you didn't even go on a date, why is there a ring on her finger?”
“I just put it on her.”
“You don't normally put the word ‘just’ after ‘put a ring on her.’”
“Ugh…”
It was hard to explain.
He'd had the feeling that, just as she'd suddenly appeared, she might disappear just as suddenly.
Fearing something he couldn't understand, he'd chased after Enya as she left through the door.
Ignoring her protests, he'd forced the ring onto her finger.
Renzo didn't press Tarmin, who clearly had no answer.
“Looks like I'm not getting my gold coins back, then.”
“Wait, no! Don't tell me she said no just so she could win the bet? This is your fault!”
“Does that mean your confession is worth less than one Eranche gold coin?”
Tarmin had tried to take a jab at the slick mercenary, but ended up looking like a cheap man himself, so he shut his mouth.
Renzo chuckled at the sight, then asked,
“Do people in Quaalid normally start a romance by putting a ring on someone?”
“I don't really know, but I don't think so. Isn't it probably like other places?”
Renzo studied the young man before him for a moment.
He looked like a skilled hunter, seasoned by the smell of blood, but at times like this he was nothing but an innocent young man.
“Then is that your way of doing things? Your way of courting, I mean.”
“Huh? …Oh, I see what you mean.”
His way of courting? Renzo had misunderstood their relationship again.
That was ridiculous.
It had been years, but once, they'd fought side by side.
Tarmin got up, then sat up straight, and made the same declaration he'd made before to the mercenary from the distant south.
“Renzo, I think you said something like that last time, too, but Enya and I aren't—”
He tried to declare it.
“Aren't anything…”
Were they really nothing to each other?
They were something to each other.
She was a precious friend he'd grown up with since childhood.
She was a precious comrade he could trust with his back.
Was that really all?
**
Enya stepped out through the tavern's back door.
The empty, lonely courtyard greeted her in silence. Everyone had finished their shifts and gone.
Today was the last day she'd be filling in for Sigona.
She planned to go home, lock the door, and rest until the festival was over.
When she woke up, she could go back to being a customer at the tavern and start her day.
Would Tarmin take Sigona to the festival instead, now that she'd turned him down?
That poor girl, who'd had to overcome Elinol's curse alone at every festival.
If Tarmin took her, she'd bloom like a flower.
Unlike Enya, who'd already experienced the festival several times.
No, Sigona was just an excuse.
To be honest, she didn't have the courage to go to the festival as Taal's partner.
That was why she'd refused.
When the parade music began and Taal took her hand, what expression was she supposed to wear?
If Tarmin—though there was no way he would, but if, just if—offered her a flower, what would she do then?
…If he found out she was only half a person.
If it were only Taal, she wouldn't mind whatever he did to her. But what if he found out in a street full of people?
In her judgment, she'd turned down the invitation neatly, without any trouble at all.
She hadn't felt the slightest hesitation or regret.
‘The girl next door’ was enough. She didn't want anything more.
“Enya.”
The name that had once been her nickname, and was now her name as a woman, was called.
“Taal?”
When she turned around, Tarmin was there.
“Taal, what's wrong?”
She asked as casually as she could, keeping her expression blank.
Tarmin looked at her with displeasure.
She flinched at his expression.
“You were going to leave just like that, weren't you?”
Her heart lurched, but she quickly calmed herself.
“Y-Yeah. I'm tired, so I was going to head home. Is something wrong?”
She meant that if nothing was wrong, she was leaving.
“You, honestly…”
Tarmin looked as though he was about to say something, but instead he pressed a hand to his forehead.
Tarmin let out a long sigh, then changed his tone and spoke brightly.
“All right, Enya. I need your help!”
“What kind of help?”
“I'm thinking of taking Sigona around the festival, but how am I supposed to know where to go? Would you help me out?”
Another invitation.
He'd changed his approach, since she'd turn him down if he asked whether she wanted to go.
She drew in a breath at his roundabout offer.
If she was only pretending to take part in the festival to help him.
If she was just there to stand by his side and judge his choices.
Then she could take part in the festival, too.
Trying to keep her face from softening, she said,
“If that's all, I suppose I could help. It's not like I'm that tired…”
She trailed off as she stepped closer, and Tarmin broke into a wide smile.
“Thanks!”
As he spoke, Tarmin reached out his hand.
Thinking he wanted to shake hands, she held out hers.
At that moment, Tarmin grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him.
“Huh? Wh-What?”
When she came to her senses, she was in his arms.
She tried to pull away in surprise, but Tarmin's left arm was already wrapped firmly around her waist, and his right arm had her shoulders in a tight hold.
As she felt his strong arm close around her waist, a shrill cry slipped out of her.
“Eek!”
“Now you can't run away.”
Running away wasn't the problem.
They were in the tavern's back courtyard, where anyone could show up and see them at any moment.
Her face burned with embarrassment.
She tried with all her strength to break free, but it was no use.
On top of that, Tarmin smelled of alcohol.
“Taal, are you drunk? What if someone sees us? Hurry, let me go.”
“Since when has our hero cared what other people think?”
“Stop, talking nonsense, and let go!”
“If you're afraid someone will see us, should we go home and do it there?”
She felt a spark of hope at his words.
“Y-Yeah! You can hug me as much as you want once we get home!”
Tarmin smiled at that, then lowered his head.
He spoke right into Enya's ear as she was trapped in his arms.
“No.”
**
“Let me gooo!”
Honestly, holding Enya while she struggled like a small animal caught in a trap wasn't easy.
His shins hurt where she'd kicked him, and he wanted to grab them and yelp.
But he pretended nothing was wrong and whispered to Enya, making sure to remind her who had the upper hand.
“Are you an idiot? Today's the last day. How did you fall for the idea that I'd go practice with you and take Sigona another time?”
Enya flinched whenever his breath brushed her ear.
Her small, soft body squirmed in his arms, and Tarmin was about to lose his mind, too.
Enya had squirmed until Tarmin finished speaking, then finally managed to ask,
“…Th-Then why?”
“I'm embarrassed enough to die, so I'm only going to say this once. Listen.”
Tarmin whispered into Enya's ear.
“I want to go to the festival with you, ‘as a woman.’”
“Hic…”
Enya let out a sound that might have been a scream or a sob.
Then she buried her face in Tarmin's chest, hiding her expression.
Her cute, muffled whimper made him want to hug her until he crushed her, but he held back and explained what he meant.
“Do you understand, Enya? We're not practicing. You and I are going to enjoy the festival. We'll hold hands and go around with the parade, buy a whole bunch of cheap snacks, and win every contest we find. It'd be best if they had an archery contest.”
“…”
“Honestly, I still don't know what's going on. How am I supposed to know when the person involved won't explain? You won't tell me why you came back looking like this. And now you've got some kind of illness, but you won't even tell me what it is—or if it's going to kill you.”
He felt her hand clutch the fabric of his shirt.
“You won't explain anything to your friend, but then you tell me not to hate you. You want me to treat you like a friend. Does that make any sense?”
“I'm sorry.”
“I'm not going to force you to explain. So I'm going to enjoy the festival however I want. Got it? I'm going to the festival with you, ‘as a woman.’ No matter what you think, I'm going to treat you like a woman. Do you understand?”
“…Yeah.”
“It'd be less terrifying if you just explained it, honestly. I mean, how could you possibly—wait, what?”
“I said I understand.”
Her decisive answer startled a sound out of him.
He cleared his throat and urged Enya on.
“Ahem. Right. Then go change into something comfortable, now. We don't have time.”
Since it was the last day, plenty of places would close early. They really were running out of time.
Despite her answer, Enya didn't move right away. She stayed just as she was, with her face buried in Tarmin's chest.
Worried by how completely still she was, Tarmin spoke to her.
Had he teased her too much?
“Uh, Enya, are you okay?”
“Just a moment.”
Tarmin had to stand perfectly still until Enya finally pulled away, much later.
He would never know.
That she'd been crying and laughing until her expression was a mess.
That the treasure the hero had been searching for was right here.
**
An old mercenary sat by a sunlit window in the tavern.
He dipped his pen in the ink.
Several sheets of paper lay before him.
He paused to review what he'd written, then slowly began moving his pen again.
At the very top of the page, where the title belonged, were the words:
'Observation Report'
He paused once more, took a puff from the pipe in his left hand, and continued writing.
'...Based on the observations above, the current hero does not appear to have any clear goal. The hero seems to have lost most of their original abilities along with their body, and does not appear to be planning another pilgrimage. However, the holy sword—'
Renzo crossed out the last part, then decided to write it on a new sheet instead.
Wouldn't it be better to leave himself an escape route?
'...The hero has made contact with the hunter who was a member of the party, but—'
“Renzo.”
He hid the writing behind the new sheet of paper as he spoke.
“Well, miss?”
Enya's eyes were a little puffy.
“…Hmm? Hmmm?”
Had the young hunter done something rough to her?
As he narrowed his eyes and studied her, Enya suddenly threw something at him.
He caught it easily and opened his left hand.
There was a gold coin engraved with an elaborate rose and sailing ship.
It was the Eranche gold coin she'd won from him in their bet.
“Miss?”
When he looked up, Enya was already walking away across the hall.
Watching her go, he gave a quiet chuckle and turned his gaze out the window.
It seemed the young lady had made plans.
And it seemed he'd won their bet after all.
Beyond the window glass lay the peaceful streets of Quaalid.
Having smoked his pipe down to the end, Renzo finished the last part of his report.
'-Further observation is required.'