“Figures.”
I broke the long silence.
“I thought I smelled something burning from a long way off.”
Sitri didn't answer.
We hadn't known each other for long, but Sitri probably always wore that sort of expression. The skin around her eyes was red, raw, and drooping, making her look as though something sad had happened to her.
There wasn't really anything else to say.
I decided to accept the silence again.
“……?”
Then Sitri's eyes widened.
She abruptly turned and looked toward the roof of a building.
More precisely, she seemed to be looking at something far beyond it, hidden from sight.
As though entranced, she began walking in that direction.
I limped after her, only for her to suddenly leap onto the roof of the building.
Obviously, there was no way I could follow.
I was left staring up at the roof like a dog watching the roof after the chicken it chased escaped up there.
“…….”
Then Sitri extended a pale hand toward me.
I just stared at it stupidly.
Her white fingertips moved, as though telling me to grab on.
Carefully, I took her hand.
An astonishing amount of strength pulled me onto the roof.
“Oh! Whoa….”
For a moment, I was overwhelmed.
There, an enormous moon—
A full moon so huge it looked as though I could touch it if I brought a tall enough ladder—hung in the sky.
‘Ah! Today's the Grand Full Moon….’
Because of a certain magical fluctuation, for one day roughly every 3 years, the moon appeared enormous, as though a lens had been placed over the sky.
Ten times larger than usual.
That phenomenon was called the Grand Full Moon.
So it was today.
It was practically a holiday….
With the Civil War going on, I hadn't noticed at all.
Even though it was night, the world was bright.
We sat there for a long while, staring blankly at the moon.
Then Sitri spoke.
“Pretty.”
“It is.”
“White.”
“Yes. And round.”
“Long ago.”
“Yes.”
“Long ago, Mom said. Mm….”
“Your mother?”
“She said rabbits live on the moon.”
“Rabbits.”
“Yeah.”
“Do they pound rice cakes too?”
“Yeah.”
“I see.”
“Is it true?”
It seemed I had no choice but to give an answer that would ruin the mood.
It couldn't be helped.
“No. There aren't any rabbits on the moon. There aren't any mortars either.”
“…….”
Sitri tilted her head slightly.
“Really?”
She sounded a little disappointed.
“Why did Mom lie?”
It was because of those red eyes.
Somehow, I felt like I'd done something wrong.
“Mothers are liars by nature. Children aren't supposed to know the truth.”
“Why?”
“Because the truth is boring. Isn't it more interesting to hear that there's an agent of communism dressed in red who distributes presents across the entire continent overnight than to hear that your father bought them?”
“Those are difficult words….”
“I'm saying it was more fun when you thought there were rabbits on the moon than it is now that you know there's nothing there.”
“Hmm.”
Sitri raised her head.
Her eyes drifted slightly inward and upward.
She seemed to be thinking about something.
“Hmm… I think it's more fun now.”
“Why? There aren't any rabbits up there. No mortar either.”
“I don't know. Why is that?”
“Who knows.”
“Then what about you?”
This time, I was the one left speechless.
For a little while—a slightly long while—we looked at the moon.
“……You're right. It is fun.”
“Why?”
“I don't know either.”
Did I always say ‘I don't know’ this often?
Maybe spending some time with her had rubbed off on me.
Anyway.
I no longer had any excuse to keep her here.
I took off the magic-tool coat and handed it to Sitri.
“Take it.”
“…….”
“Go on. We made a promise.”
She turned to look at me with her usual sullen expression.
“Where were you going?”
“Home.”
“Your organization?”
“Ah, well, I was planning to stop by home first, then go there afterward….”
“What do you want to do?”
For a moment, I didn't know what to say.
What do I want to do?
“You probably shouldn't go home.”
“Pardon?”
“If you can, you should leave Gesenna.”
That enormous train station had burned down completely.
Someone had severed the transportation route.
And destroying infrastructure could be interpreted as a sign that the Civil War was going to drag on.
So, to summarize why I needed to leave Gesenna—
‘Because the war's only just beginning….’
But I pretended not to know and asked.
“Why?”
“You don't know that either?”
“I haven't got a clue. Why should I leave?”
“Actually, I don't know either.”
“…….”
“Someone just told me. They said it's dangerous.”
It was probably something she'd heard inside Diablo.
If so, then the Civil War dragging on was practically certain.
“Then where are you going now?”
“I don't know.”
“You look obviously strong. If you came all the way out here by yourself, don't you have a destination?”
She shook her head.
“I came out looking for something, but I haven't been able to find it at all for a week.”
“Is it important?”
“Yeah. So I'm going to keep looking.”
“I see. I hope you find it.”
“Yeah….”
Sitri stood up.
“You keep that coat.”
“Pardon?”
“It's been a long time since I've talked this much with someone. Actually… I don't have any friends.”
That sounded about right.
No.
That wasn't the point.
“Didn't you say this coat was important?”
“It is. But I don't want you to die.”
“Why?”
I asked the question, but a sigh came out first.
Sitri shook her head.
As though she didn't know.
“…….”
Right.
So this is how we part.
Maybe I'd grown attached to her despite only knowing her for a short time.
Some nameless emotion sprouted inside me like a seedling.
Disappointment.
Regret.
Maybe a little anxiety.
Or maybe it was because this was my first time watching the moon with someone.
Come to think of it, it had also been a long time since I'd had this much of a personal conversation with anyone.
I didn't have any friends either.
But she was a criminal.
And I was a guard.
If I couldn't arrest her, then it was time to let her go.
“Goodbye. Thank you for bringing me here.”
“If we meet again, say hello first. I'm bad at remembering people.”
“I will.”
Sitri slowly waved her hand.
“Next time, let's watch the moon together again.”
After she left, I pushed myself to my feet with the help of my cane.
We probably wouldn't meet again.
I was a low-ranking guard, while she was an Enemy of the State.
If we ever did meet again, I'd be lucky if I wasn't killed.
‘It was kind of like playing with fire….’
Still, it'd make a story I could tell over drinks for the rest of my life.
Good God.
I'd met an Enemy of the State and gone through all sorts of things with her!
‘But still.’
Was that actually a good thing?
‘She's a criminal.’
I don't know.
‘As a guard, is meeting a fucking incredible criminal really something to brag about?’
That's a difficult question….
Leaving my regrets behind, I started walking.
First, I needed to find somewhere I could stay.
Thinking back, she'd asked me a rather fundamental question.
‘What do you want to do?’
Right.
What am I supposed to do now?
The life I'd wanted consisted entirely of becoming a guard.
From the moment I became one, I'd lived hoping I could adapt to that place.
But now that things had turned out like this, was going back really the right thing to do?
Even if I did return, would I be of any use?
‘For now, just think about surviving.’
No matter where the end of a long road lies, you can't reach it as a corpse.
I raised my head and looked at the sky.
‘Survive….’
Living fish swim against the current.
***
The protagonists in storybooks always have a goal.
Survival, success, marriage, revenge, and so on….
In my opinion, ‘survival’ was the crudest goal of them all.
Why?
Because of the process it takes to survive.
Look at ‘success’!
Success requires exciting growth.
The entire process is thrilling and enjoyable.
Then what about ‘marriage’?
Even if two people who are obviously a perfect match spend fifteen whole comic volumes playing push-and-pull over whether they're going to smash their lips together or not, you still can't stop reading.
They're definitely going to kiss in the next volume.
How could you not read it?
But ‘survival’ is different.
The path toward survival is crude and tense, but not particularly enjoyable.
The protagonist is constantly on edge.
Even trivial problems make him overreact.
For example—
someone like me, who had been locked in a standoff with some suspicious bastard across the ruins for the past 30 minutes.
‘What the hell is with that bastard?’
This wasn't a comic.
It was my actual situation.
30 minutes ago, I spotted him and stopped.
Then I hid behind a wall.
And the bastard immediately did the exact same thing.
‘What the hell? What's his problem….’
He was holding a weapon.
Something like a kitchen knife.
The sight made my heart sink.
Until just moments ago, I'd been able to swagger around everywhere because Sitri had been with me.
Not anymore.
‘But it's already been 30 minutes. Dawn's starting to break….’
Waiting any longer would only make things more dangerous.
The gangsters would start moving around.
The same applied to him.
He was alone too.
I didn't want to provoke him, but I had no choice anymore.
“Hey…! You over there!”
“Wh-What?!”
“What do you want?! I'm not going to hurt you! But if you try to hurt me, I won't just stand here and take it!”
“What?! I thought you were trying to hurt me!”
What the hell?
He was just a scared coward.
***
The man's name was Katran.
He said he owned a noodle shop.
Apparently, some gangsters had wrecked his store several days earlier, leaving him on edge.
Today was his first time going outside in a while, and just then, he'd spotted a cripple wearing clothes that looked like something an organization member would wear.
“Would you like a bowl of noodles?”
He made me a welcome offer.
I gladly accepted.
‘Seriously, do these clothes make me look that much like a villain?’
How embarrassing.
“Haha…. I've spent days avoiding nothing but strange gangster bastards. I'm glad to finally meet a decent person again.”
Katran smiled awkwardly.
“Likewise.”
“You said you're a guard, right? Have you run into any gangsters too?”
“Not gangsters….”
I couldn't exactly tell him I'd met a serial killer.
“You said you own a noodle shop?”
“Yes. It was a fairly famous restaurant on Haidin Street. Our meat noodles were especially well known.”
“Meat noodles?”
“Yes, yes. Noodles made with plenty of pork belly fat in the broth. After learning the technique from my master, I never stopped doing business for a single day in 15 years. Of course, now it's all been smashed to pieces….”
As we walked toward the city together—
Maybe he was naturally talkative, or perhaps he was simply relieved to have someone to talk to after so much anxiety.
Either way, Katran told me all sorts of things about his shop.
Some of the stories were interesting.
“Pardon? The Captain of the Public Security Agency came there to eat noodles?”
“Of course! Captain Hibiki came often. If he'd happened to be here when the Civil War broke out, everything would've been settled easily…. Those gangster bastards would've all had their skulls smashed too.”
“Whoa….”
A Captain.
A Captain.
The Captain of the Public Security Agency, someone every guard practically idolized, had been a regular there.
“You think that's all? Actually…….”
He glanced around, then whispered.
“An Enemy of the State from Eden came to our shop too.”
“An Enemy of the State from the Republic of Eden?”
Huh?
That was interesting too.
Hadn't I just met an Enemy of the State myself?
Surely he didn't mean Sitri?
“I'm telling you…! I don't know if you've heard of her, but her name was Gremory. She came by often.”
“Pardon? Gremory the terrorist?”
“Oh, you know her…! She was a woman who always had her hood pulled up, and she actually signed her name on the wall where we kept celebrity autographs. By the way, that's a secret…! Anyway, even criminals know good food when they taste it. Of course, now it's all been smashed to pieces….”
It wasn't Sitri.
But Gremory also belonged to Diablo, just like Sitri.
The world really was small.
“Keep your spirits up. You're still here, aren't you? You've been running the place for 15 years, so you'll rebuild it in no time.”
That was how I comforted him.
“That's right. I should ask my master for help too. My master can really handle himself in a fight….”
Around then, we spotted several burly men standing on the road ahead with clubs and knives.
They were already covered in blood, as though they'd caused trouble somewhere else first.
“Oof. There are gangsters over there.”
Maybe because there were two of us, I was a little less afraid.
We had to take a long detour around them.
As we walked, our conversation continued.
“Forgive me for asking, but isn't working as a guard difficult with your leg?”
“I don't find it particularly difficult. I'm curious about you instead. You've made noodles for 15 years. Do you still like noodles?”
“Pardon?”
“They say the daughter of a fried-chicken shop hates fried chicken.”
“Ahh. I still love them. I ate noodles I made myself this morning before I came out. They're delicious no matter how often I eat them.”
“I see.”
He spoke with an ecstatic expression.
“Noodles contain a person's life. The noodles themselves are everyday life. Everyday life should be mild, but lived with firmness. The broth is your attitude toward life. If you live with an attitude that's rich, savory, and salty, then even ordinary days become happy. And the key is the garnish. The garnish is―”
For a long while, he explained the process of making noodles and his own recipe.
There was something admirable about someone with convictions in a single field.
I found myself listening as though enthralled.
“…Oh, we've already arrived while I was talking! Goodness, we really walked quite a distance!”
As we spoke, we reached the noodle shop.
The name of the place was amusing.
[ 15-Year Noodles ]
He really must've been proud of it.
If that was the name, did he change it every year?
“Wait right there! Haha! I'll show you one incredible bowl of noodles!”
I started getting excited too.
People have instincts.
When you meet someone, sometimes you simply feel:
I want to become friends with this person.
Or—
No, I don't.
And by that standard, for some reason, Katran was someone I wanted as a friend.
I trusted him too.
‘Finally, I can get some rest.’
I'll eat a bowl of those famous meat noodles, lie down, and rest.
That'll be heaven, right?
That was when it happened.
THUD―!
A dull sound.
An axe was buried in Katran's head.
I hadn't even seen where or when it had come from.
“――.”
There wasn't even a death cry.
Katran's briskly moving body was knocked backward and toppled over.
In the darkness, after his body collapsed, something black spread across the ground and expanded its territory.
Blood.
Katran, the man who'd been so proud of his meat noodles, was lying on the ground.
‘Huh?’
It didn't feel real.
What am I looking at right now?
My legs nearly gave out.
But I forced myself to hold on to my cane and remain standing.
I raised my head and looked toward the shop.
A man was walking out.
He was slightly larger than me, with a torn scar running from his hairline across his forehead and down below one eye.
He shouted.
“What fucking nightingale is screeching this loud in the middle of the night?”
He didn't look like someone who'd only killed once or twice.
That aura clung to his entire body.
He pulled the axe out of Katran's body.
While pinning the corpse beneath his foot.
Then he looked at me.
“What? The fucking nightingale had a friend too?”
The stranger began approaching me.
“You a nightingale too?”
***
For a moment, my mind went blank.
The first emotion instinctively rising inside me was fear.
A murderer who'd casually killed a person was walking toward me.
The next emotion was anger.
I was supposed to be a guard of the Empire, yet here I was scared shitless in front of a murderer.
For the second time, no less.
‘No….’
But when two people encounter each other on the street and end up fighting, all the concepts humans have so feebly invented—service ribbons, uniforms, and the like—disappear.
What remains is only the strength and skill of two beasts.
And there was no possible way I could match that man in either.
“I'll send you after your friend.”
As he approached with the axe, Katran's corpse caught my eye.
If I didn't do something here, I'd soon die exactly like that.
Then what should I do?
What can I……?
Suddenly, I remembered something from childhood.
Whenever my father, who had been a very bad man, occasionally came home, there was something he used to tell me.
‘Samael. Stealing a person's heart is difficult.’
‘But borrowing it for a moment is very simple.’
‘People only try to see what they want to see.’
What they want to see?
What does that gangster want to see?
‘Ah.’
Come to think of it, why was that man coming out of the shop?
Maybe……
Had he come here as a customer?
The moment the thought occurred to me,
I stepped forward and opened my mouth.
“What the hell are you doing in my shop?”
My heart pounded.
But I kept my face expressionless.
“What'd you say, bastard?”
“You just crawled out of my shop. I'm asking what you were doing inside a place when the owner wasn't there.”
Even I was surprised by how deep and indifferent my voice sounded.
“…….”
The man's eyes narrowed.
My heart beat a little harder.
But if he'd looked at Katran's dead face and called him ‘some crazy bastard,’ then he couldn't have known who owned this shop.
“Ahh…. You're the owner here?”
My guess was right.