K – Return of Kings: Side Stories - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Christmas Carol by Furuhas.h.i.+ Hideyuki
“The decisive battle for the Slate will take place on Christmas Eve.”
The Scepter 4 surveillance network had picked up the movements of the Jungle lower rankers, and that information prompted the Blue King, Munakata Reis.h.i.+, to draw that conclusion. The other kings arrived to the same conclusion, each utilizing his or her strong points characteristic of them for it. The Silver King, Isana Yas.h.i.+ro, based the conclusion on his wisdom and a.n.a.lysis. The Red King, Kus.h.i.+na Anna, on her sharp intuition and sensitivity. …And the would-be a.s.sailant the Green King, Hisui Nagare, on logic and will.
The Tea Table Alliance, uniting the Silver, Blue and Red clans, in preparation to the imminent moment of truth, hurried to reinforce Mihas.h.i.+ra tower and set up the defenses. In the meantime Hisui, while knowing that it was perfectly possible for him to hinder them by using his low rank clansmen, deemed such a method unfit as a decisive blow for the grand goal of stealing the Slate. Not only was it meaningless to throw low level ability wielders, however many, at the three kings, adding casual people such as his low level clansmen to the fray would only add to the element of uncertainty, resulting in a disadvantage to Hisui himself.
“I will give the Tea table alliance the time they need and let them arrange their forces in the most optimal way.”
That, in turn, would allow Hisui himself to take the optimal action in the given situation. For the King of Change, seeking to bring chaos into the world, was, in fact, particularly vigilant about any disorderly irregularity that could trip up his own feet.
A short decisive clash with his select few, eliminating as many uncertainties as possible, was Jungle’s strategy the Green King decided upon, deriving it based on his own physical condition and its limitations.
Hisui was fully aware of the peculiarities of his own body - of his ma.s.sive power and, of course, of his fatal lack of stamina. Isana Yas.h.i.+ro, also in possession of data on Hisui, arrived to the same understanding.
Naturally, the conditions weren’t equal to begin with. But the battle would start with the consent from both sides involved, like with athletes, or with gamblers - or with game players. The kings from both camps, the “three” and the “one”, would duel, sparing no effort, of their own will at the place and at the time they had chosen themselves.
♦
On the afternoon of the day of the battle, at Mihas.h.i.+ra tower, a final check was being conducted on the defense system. All the combat essential personnel was to be in position and on alert. Like ants reinforcing their anthill, the members of the Tea Table Alliance were busy with work, not forgetting to coordinating with one another all the time.
Amidst that bustle, the Silver clan, consisting of only 3 members, had finished their preparations before Scepter 4 and Homura could, ending up with a few dozen minutes of free time on their hands in the period between the state of battle preparations in-progress and of battle readiness. It was a borderline moment where one state was about to morph into the other, much like a calm before the storm.
The Silver King, Isana Yas.h.i.+ro, and his two clans.e.m.e.n, Yatougami Kuroh and Neko, went up Mihas.h.i.+ra tower to a room inside the residence on its rooftop. In a nook of the mansion where the late Gold King, Kokujouji Daikaku, lived, there was a bedroom.
Compared to the grandeur of the late king’s office or the audience hall, the bedroom, of only 20 tatami mats [*], could be safely called modest. The three had visited the Kokujouji residence a few days prior, but now that all the household belongings had been removed, it looked different, and felt even emptier.
“Nyaa~~ So s.p.a.cious~~ Perfect for rolling around~~”
Neko, thoroughly excited to find a wide floor like that, jumped in first, performing a forward roll and stretching on the tatami mats like a starfish.
“Every house without its master feels so lonely,” Kuroh commented, surveying his surroundings. “When I think that the Slate the enemy is after is right beneath this house, I can’t bring myself to calm down… why did you want to come here, s.h.i.+ro?” He didn’t ask what business s.h.i.+ro had here.
To s.h.i.+ro, or Isana Yas.h.i.+ro, Kokujouji Daikaku was a friend of many years, and this was his abode. There was no way s.h.i.+ro wasn’t overcome with certain emotions when being here. However, leaving his post just to come here mere hours before the violent battle between the kings was to break out wasn’t something Kuroh quite understood…
“Mnn, well, today is Christmas Eve, you know.” Answering Kuroh’s perplexed serious gaze, s.h.i.+ro sat down cross-legged to the floor, putting down a bag he had over his shoulder. “So I thought we should have a little par~ty~.”
“A party? At a time like this? How can— Nevermind,” but Kuroh started but cut himself off mid-sentence.
Isana Yas.h.i.+ro wasn’t a person to do anything meaningless, but sometimes he fell into the habit of making declarations laden with hidden agendas. But if Kuroh, as his retainer, tried and dug to the true meaning behind his words, he would have to also get dragged into s.h.i.+ro’s talkative beating around the bush.
“…Warn us about these things beforehand. If you had, I could’ve burned up a cake or two for us.”
At his awkward joke, Neko turned her head to him. “A cake? Do you burn up a cake?”
“Ahaha, sorry. I mean it as a surprise party, you see.”
s.h.i.+ro started taking out the contents of his bag: a long box of about 30 cm tall, to be precise. It had 4 small legs and was adorned with gold ornaments. It looked rather old but undoubtedly valuable.
“What, what? Just what is that?” Neko stuck her head out from behind him.
“A… jewel box…?” Kuroh ventured a guess, folding his arms across his chest.
“This was among the possessions of the lieutenant - I mean, of the Gold King - that I took out of here. It’s old, but it’s well maintained and it still works with no problem.”
“Works?”
“It’s a music box.”
s.h.i.+ro turned the screw at the base of the box, put it on the tatami mat, and the lid of the box suddenly opened. The metallic sound, accompanied by faint reverberation, started forming a simple melody.
“This tune…”
“I know it! It’s the Christmas song!” Neko exclaimed, leaning forward, and s.h.i.+ro nodded.
“"Stille Nacht”“… it’s called "Silent night” here in j.a.pan, right?“
"Uh-huh… what a nostalgic tune,” Kuroh said with feeling. “In the town I lived in, on Christmas Eve children would gather at the main temple and congratulate each other. And the chief priest would dress as Santa Claus.”
“Aha. That’s great to hear, such a marvelous display of religious tolerance.”
“What about turkey? Did you eat a big turkey?”
“Of course I did, it was a big one, yes. Although it was a fake turkey made from bean curd lees and jelly.”
“Oh, vegetarian cuisine despite the holiday?”
“Eeh? But the real one is better~”
“Well, we thought so, too, and complained about it… fufu, it was fun. We kicked up a ruckus all together…”
“I see~” Neko raised her gaze to the ceiling. “I was always alone… so I didn’t eat a big turkey yet…”
“I was all alone on Christmas, too. Year after year, for decades, up in the sky.”
“Mh… I see. Sorry. It was insensitive of me to bring that up.” Kuroh made a guilty face, but s.h.i.+ro only threw both his hands in the air in a surprisingly jovial gesture.
“No, don’t worry, it’s not like I felt particularly lonely. The nighttime city, illuminated with green and red festive lighting, was bright and lively. I never felt bored watching it all night long.”
“Me, too! Me, too! The city would be all sparky and glittery! And bells would jingle!”
“…Besides, I wasn’t all alone… Probably.”
s.h.i.+ro gave the room a look, as if wis.h.i.+ng for someone who wasn’t here anymore to confirm his words.
“Hm?”
“The Gold King, Kokujouji Daikaku, was what supported this country, being its backbone in politics, economics and military affairs. For decades, he was leading a life so busy that he hardly had time to even sleep. But only on Christmas night, he always reserved just a bit of his time to be only his alone. Every year, without fail.”
s.h.i.+ro took out a few more things out of the box: three small cloth-wrapped items and one book with a red cover.
When the cloth wrapper on each of the items was undone, beneath it, wooden dolls small enough to fit into the palm were revealed: one represented a kneeling woman praying and two were standing figures of men wearing cloaks.
“Dolls…?” Neko wondered.
“That woman is Virgin Mary, I take it?”
“Yup. And Gaspar and Melchior, of the Three Wise Men of the East.”
“Hm? Looks like you have an incomplete set. Only two out of the Three Wise Men? In addition, any set related to Christmas has to have Christ in it, at least, I think.”
“How sharp of you. These dolls - they’re called Krippe - originally were supposed to be a set depicting the birth of Christ, with Virgin Mary, St.Joseph, the Three Wise Men, angels giving their blessings, and also horses, sheep and such. This is only part of the set though.”
“For something that’s supposed to be a uniformed set, the make of the dolls looks all over the place… especially this one, it was clearly made by an amateur.”
The doll Kuroh pointed at, one of the Three Wise Men, had a very rough face, with misshapen eyes and nose. On its own though, the doll’s powerful posture with its back perfectly straight appeared to reflect the adamant and steadfast personality of its maker.
“An amateur… yup, certainly, certainly,” s.h.i.+ro chuckled lightly. “This Melchior was made by the Gold King, Kokujouji Daikaku, personally. Of course it wouldn’t look anything like a work of a professional craftsman. By the way, we carved these dolls together with the Gold King, and this Gaspar is my work. Its make is pretty good, don’t you agree?” Like a child, eager to boast about his treasure, s.h.i.+ro stretched out a hand with the doll held in it.
The doll’s smiling face, with even smallest of the expression’s details perceivable, was in direct opposition to Melchior’s. Behind the elaborate handiwork of the doll one could see what perhaps would be correct to call delicate childishness… in other words, this doll, too, in a sense was a clone of its maker.
Kuroh inclined his head as he took Gaspar. “You and the Gold King carved these figures together, you said… under what circ.u.mstances?”
That was only a natural question. The scene that Kuroh’s mind immediately painted at those words was silly and unrealistic, as if taken out of some myth: the two greatest kings residing on the ground and in the sky respectively met face to face to amuse themselves with childish carving.
“…Back when we still lived in Germany, we spent one Christmas together. We made these then,” s.h.i.+ro said, lowering his eyes to look at Melchior in his hand. “Just before the war ended, we were preparing to move the Slate and related materials to j.a.pan, and the Lieutenant brought these with him. It wasn’t a situation where we could take any personal belongings with us, so he took only what could fit into his pocket…”
“These two Wise Men and Virgin Mary?”
s.h.i.+ro shook his head. “This Mary is not the original one. I guess he probably asked someone to remake it, long after that.”
“I see… She resembles the figure you made though. Did whoever carved it make sure to match your style? …Ah, no.”
Comparing the holy mother and the wise man he currently held in his both hands, Kuroh had realized something. What was similar was not the outward details of the make but the impression about the personality that showed through the dolls.
“Somehow… you come to mind when I look at this, s.h.i.+ro…?”
Kuroh had to agree with Neko’s observation. The figure of the holy mother was made after a person that had an air about them that resembled that of Isana Yas.h.i.+ro - of Adolf K Weissman.
“I’m sure that the model for this figure was Claudia Weissman… my older sister.”
“I see…. She was a beautiful person.”
“Yeah.”
Behind the forms of these three wooden dolls of artless carving - of the kneeling holy mother and of two of the three wise men - those of the young Kokujouji Daikaku and the Weissmann siblings could be glimpsed. And Isana Yas.h.i.+ro - Adolf K Weissman - was seeing them right now.
“This is the shape of our - the Lieutenant’s, my sister’s and my - Christmas. And some day I want to spend another Christmas like that with the Lieutenant… this is my everlasting wish. Although it will take a lot of time for it to come true now, probably.”
Kuroh handed the figures back to s.h.i.+ro, and s.h.i.+ro started lining them up in front of him. A thin book with a hard cover that was in the same box as the dolls was turned into a pedestal for them. The red of the book’s cover was faded and littered with fingerprints.
“Was this book also among the Gold King’s belongings?”
“Yeah. It’s a book I lent him back in Germany. A book that’s being kept because you’re unable to give it back and can’t bring yourself to throw it away… A book or two fitting this description can be found on every bookshelf, no?”
“From the looks of it, he read it through quite a few times… What is this book about?”
“It’s the first edition of d.i.c.kens’ "Christmas Carol” published in 1843. A fairy tale about Christmas Eve. He kept it together with the dolls because of the common Christmas theme, I suppose. And maybe, every year he took it out and opened it. This was what const.i.tuted the Lieutenant’s “Christmas set”, probably.“
"A music box, dolls and a fairy tale, huh. To think that the Gold King would be fond of things like that… I’m surprised.”
“Kokujouji Daikaku was a surprisingly big romanticist at heart.”
“That fairy tale, what is it about? …Is it romantic?” Neko forced her way into the conversation.
“Mm? Well, let’s see…”
s.h.i.+ro’s face took on a theatrical expression as he looked into the s.p.a.ce and started recounting, “…The protagonist was a perpetually scowling old man who hated Christmas.”
“Eh, why?” Neko interrupted, her face puzzled. “I love everything being sparky and glittery, and the jingling bells! And the turkey, too!”
“Yup, normally, every person likes Christmas. But that old man was incredibly obstinate and miserly, and everybody disliked him. So he disliked people in return and couldn’t stand them having fun. His hate for Christmas was essentially his hate for people.”
“Whoooa…” Neko huddled herself up, as if under a gust of cold wind. She was particularly sensitive to matters involving hating others and being hated by them.
“And so, on one lonely hateful Christmas, three apparitions visited the old man’s house, showing him various visions.”
“Apparitions?”
“Yes, apparitions. Spirit, Geist. In other words, ghosts or phantoms… You could probably call them G.o.ds in j.a.pan. The first ghost showed him the past. Watching the scenes from the days bygone, the old man remembered how much he loved his family and his friends, and how he lost them.”
“That’s… sad, no?”
“Yes, that’s a very sad thing,” s.h.i.+ro murmured almost to himself before continuing recounting the novella. “…Next, the old mad was visited by the second ghost that showed him the present: the people who were merrily celebrating Christmas at that moment without the old man, and the children who were so poor that they couldn’t afford to celebrate anything. And then…” s.h.i.+ro’s expression clouded and he turned to Kuroh and Neko. “You know, the Lieutenant might have projected himself onto the protagonist. The perpetually scowling old man observing the world and the course of history from atop the high tower…”
“…No, Kokujouji Daikaku and the main character of that book are clearly different,” Kuroh a.s.serted flatly. “Not only did the Gold King not hate Christmas, he even celebrated it in private. You just said it yourself. If he ever saw something of himself in that character, it would be the solemn att.i.tude that awareness of his responsibilities ca—”
“Enough with that boring complicated stuff!” Neko leaned forward, brus.h.i.+ng Kuroh’s comment off. “s.h.i.+ro, what happened next? What became of that old man? Was he all alone until the end?”
“Mm, after that he…” After a short hesitation, s.h.i.+ro clapped his hands. “He wasn’t. It was a happy ending for him. It’s a fairy tale, after all. The old man changed his ways, becoming a kind and generous person. The city started loving him, and he lived his life happily ever after. The end.”
“I’m so glad~”
“No, wait.” This time, it was Kuroh that forced his way into the conversation. “Something’s missing in your story. What would the old man suddenly change his ways? And you said there was another ghost, didn’t you?”
“Ah, you caught me, eh?” With a lopsided smile, s.h.i.+ro scratched his head. “Well, you’re right… but what the third ghost showed the man was a bit scary, and depressing.”
“Scary?” Neko started trembling bodily.
“The third ghost showed the old man the future. The future that was pretty much hopeless. It was a cold vision void of all happiness. The irrational and sad death of the lovely and bright boy. The old man’s own death in solitude, with no one to be sad about it because everybody hated him. …Because even if one never thinks about it, death is the end that would come to everyone one day.”
After several seconds of silence, Kuroh spoke up. “…I see now. Seeing himself die in that fas.h.i.+on in the future left a deep impression on the old man, making him mend his ways and become a good person.”
“Yup, that’s how it was.”
“What an idiot.”
“Eh?”
“The old man realized what the virtuous way to live was like only through seeing his own death… the expiration limit his life would eventually hit. "Death strips everyone of everything equally, that is why living all alone gives your live no significance. But your life gains meaning if you have others you can pa.s.s on your feelings to and who will continue your work”… this is what the message here is.“
Kuroh took a step forward, and suddenly his face was mere inches away from s.h.i.+ro’s. "Without the visions the last ghost showed, that story’s happy ending couldn’t have happened. And you’re about the only guy in the world who would omit that essential part just because it’s scary and depressing, in your opinion.”
“Yeah… Sorry about that, you’re right, of course.”
“You… It looks to me like that bad habit of yours of avoiding everything you find bothersome isn’t quite gone for good yet.”
“…Yeah. I can’t argue with that, Kuroh.”
‘Huh…?’
s.h.i.+ro who would usually try to gloss over this kind of remark with foolish laughter had just straight-up admitted his fault. Taken by surprise, Kuroh straightened himself and waited for what s.h.i.+ro would say next.
“When I think back to my past, I find that I always was like this… For decades, I was running away from my own "last ghost”, averting my eyes from the harsh reality. From my own past and future, and from the many “deaths” around me.“
Kuroh acknowledged those words with a nod, and s.h.i.+ro continued, "The Lieutenant… That brave and honest man had every right to live a happy life fitting his n.o.ble soul. And yet… because of me being a coward and hiding in the sky for decades, paralyzed with fear, even his life fell into stagnation. …As if the playwright abandoned his writing duty halfway through the story.”
s.h.i.+ro looked out the window. Outside, the traditional j.a.panese garden sprawled, frozen in time.
“And this is yet another mistake that I made… No matter how much I try to atone for it, it will never be enough.”
“What an idiot,” Kuroh reiterated his remark from earlier.
“Eh…?”
“I don’t know what kind of person Kokujouji Daikaku was. But if he chose to walk side by side with you of his own will, then what you must do is not lament the past… but keep walking down your own path and living your own life with your head held high because it’s through the deeds of those who are left behind that significance of the lives of those who have already left this world is proven,” Kuroh speeched with a.s.sertion to s.h.i.+ro who was momentarily taken aback. “…And as those who are standing by your side now, it’s our duty as well. s.h.i.+ro, it’s not wrong to stop for a second and take a look back at your past from time to time. But wallowing in sentiments to the point where you give up on acting in the present is not something that I will ever forg– What’s wrong with you, Neko!”
Kuroh yelped - because Neko went and bit his arms at that moment.
“Grrr~” Neko growled angrily, glaring up at Kuroh. “You’re saying meaningless stuff and bullying s.h.i.+ro again, Kurosuke!”
“We’re talking about principles and reason, it’s not meaningless.”
“I don’t understand that stuff!”
“You little…!”
“…Neko, Kuroh isn’t bullying me. He’s actually trying to encourage me,” s.h.i.+ro tried to reason with Kuroh and Neko who were about to grapple.
“Eh? Really?” Neko’s eyes darted between s.h.i.+ro and Kuroh’s faces a few times, and Kuroh looked away, light pink dusting his cheeks.
“Well… let’s call it "giving a strongly worded pep talk” and leave it at that.“
"Is that so~ How misleading.” Neko patted Kuroh’s arm where she bit it earlier.
s.h.i.+ro’s lips curved up in a lopsided smile, gazing at the three wooden dolls lined up in front of him: the kneeling holy mother and the figures of two of the Three Wise Men standing on each side of her.
The conversation had tapered to a stop, and only the sound of the small music box was still heard in the empty j.a.panese-style room.
It was a fleeting golden moment that, nonetheless, led all the way to eternity.
♦
The silence was disrupted by a PDA ringing. The caller was the Lieutenant of Scepter 4, Awas.h.i.+ma Seri, informing them that all the involved personnel of Scepter 4, as well as of Homura, were in position.
“Understood. We’ll proceed to our stations as well then,” s.h.i.+ro replied and, quickly packing up the dolls and the book back into the box, stood up. “Well then, we’ll have to put this party on hold for now, but let’s continue when everything’s over.”
“Yeah. And tomorrow, I will get us a cake and a turkey,” Kuroh said, following s.h.i.+ro.
But Neko clapped him on the back. “Kurosuke, dolls, too! Don’t forget dolls! …Two of them!”
“Dolls?”
“Yup! So we can line them up next to s.h.i.+ro’s dolls! Mine will be a cat doll, and yours… a horsie will do for you.”
“Where did that come from! And why does mine have to be a horse?”
“No special reason… but s.h.i.+ro said earlier that there were supposed to be horses and sheep… I don’t really care about which one you get either way, so.”
“You little…”
“Ahaha, this promises to be a very lively and exciting Christmas, heh,” s.h.i.+ro gave Kuroh and Neko a grin, then turned around, facing forward.
'It’s time at last, Lieutenant.’ Then, addressing the doll inside the box - his best friend no longer in this world - s.h.i.+ro reaffirmed in his thoughts, 'What kind of future will the guest visiting the castle of the Gold King tonight show us…? No matter what it might be, I will overcome it.’
Followed by Kuroh and Neko, s.h.i.+ro left the Kokujouji residence with long strides.
’…In order for our story to have a happy ending.’
“The decisive battle for the Slate will take place on Christmas Eve.”
The Scepter 4 surveillance network had picked up the movements of the Jungle lower rankers, and that information prompted the Blue King, Munakata Reis.h.i.+, to draw that conclusion. The other kings arrived to the same conclusion, each utilizing his or her strong points characteristic of them for it. The Silver King, Isana Yas.h.i.+ro, based the conclusion on his wisdom and a.n.a.lysis. The Red King, Kus.h.i.+na Anna, on her sharp intuition and sensitivity. …And the would-be a.s.sailant the Green King, Hisui Nagare, on logic and will.
The Tea Table Alliance, uniting the Silver, Blue and Red clans, in preparation to the imminent moment of truth, hurried to reinforce Mihas.h.i.+ra tower and set up the defenses. In the meantime Hisui, while knowing that it was perfectly possible for him to hinder them by using his low rank clansmen, deemed such a method unfit as a decisive blow for the grand goal of stealing the Slate. Not only was it meaningless to throw low level ability wielders, however many, at the three kings, adding casual people such as his low level clansmen to the fray would only add to the element of uncertainty, resulting in a disadvantage to Hisui himself.
“I will give the Tea table alliance the time they need and let them arrange their forces in the most optimal way.”
That, in turn, would allow Hisui himself to take the optimal action in the given situation. For the King of Change, seeking to bring chaos into the world, was, in fact, particularly vigilant about any disorderly irregularity that could trip up his own feet.
A short decisive clash with his select few, eliminating as many uncertainties as possible, was Jungle’s strategy the Green King decided upon, deriving it based on his own physical condition and its limitations.
Hisui was fully aware of the peculiarities of his own body - of his ma.s.sive power and, of course, of his fatal lack of stamina. Isana Yas.h.i.+ro, also in possession of data on Hisui, arrived to the same understanding.
Naturally, the conditions weren’t equal to begin with. But the battle would start with the consent from both sides involved, like with athletes, or with gamblers - or with game players. The kings from both camps, the “three” and the “one”, would duel, sparing no effort, of their own will at the place and at the time they had chosen themselves.
♦
On the afternoon of the day of the battle, at Mihas.h.i.+ra tower, a final check was being conducted on the defense system. All the combat essential personnel was to be in position and on alert. Like ants reinforcing their anthill, the members of the Tea Table Alliance were busy with work, not forgetting to coordinating with one another all the time.
Amidst that bustle, the Silver clan, consisting of only 3 members, had finished their preparations before Scepter 4 and Homura could, ending up with a few dozen minutes of free time on their hands in the period between the state of battle preparations in-progress and of battle readiness. It was a borderline moment where one state was about to morph into the other, much like a calm before the storm.
The Silver King, Isana Yas.h.i.+ro, and his two clans.e.m.e.n, Yatougami Kuroh and Neko, went up Mihas.h.i.+ra tower to a room inside the residence on its rooftop. In a nook of the mansion where the late Gold King, Kokujouji Daikaku, lived, there was a bedroom.
Compared to the grandeur of the late king’s office or the audience hall, the bedroom, of only 20 tatami mats [*], could be safely called modest. The three had visited the Kokujouji residence a few days prior, but now that all the household belongings had been removed, it looked different, and felt even emptier.
“Nyaa~~ So s.p.a.cious~~ Perfect for rolling around~~”
Neko, thoroughly excited to find a wide floor like that, jumped in first, performing a forward roll and stretching on the tatami mats like a starfish.
“Every house without its master feels so lonely,” Kuroh commented, surveying his surroundings. “When I think that the Slate the enemy is after is right beneath this house, I can’t bring myself to calm down… why did you want to come here, s.h.i.+ro?” He didn’t ask what business s.h.i.+ro had here.
To s.h.i.+ro, or Isana Yas.h.i.+ro, Kokujouji Daikaku was a friend of many years, and this was his abode. There was no way s.h.i.+ro wasn’t overcome with certain emotions when being here. However, leaving his post just to come here mere hours before the violent battle between the kings was to break out wasn’t something Kuroh quite understood…
“Mnn, well, today is Christmas Eve, you know.” Answering Kuroh’s perplexed serious gaze, s.h.i.+ro sat down cross-legged to the floor, putting down a bag he had over his shoulder. “So I thought we should have a little par~ty~.”
“A party? At a time like this? How can— Nevermind,” but Kuroh started but cut himself off mid-sentence.
Isana Yas.h.i.+ro wasn’t a person to do anything meaningless, but sometimes he fell into the habit of making declarations laden with hidden agendas. But if Kuroh, as his retainer, tried and dug to the true meaning behind his words, he would have to also get dragged into s.h.i.+ro’s talkative beating around the bush.
“…Warn us about these things beforehand. If you had, I could’ve burned up a cake or two for us.”
At his awkward joke, Neko turned her head to him. “A cake? Do you burn up a cake?”
“Ahaha, sorry. I mean it as a surprise party, you see.”
s.h.i.+ro started taking out the contents of his bag: a long box of about 30 cm tall, to be precise. It had 4 small legs and was adorned with gold ornaments. It looked rather old but undoubtedly valuable.
“What, what? Just what is that?” Neko stuck her head out from behind him.
“A… jewel box…?” Kuroh ventured a guess, folding his arms across his chest.
“This was among the possessions of the lieutenant - I mean, of the Gold King - that I took out of here. It’s old, but it’s well maintained and it still works with no problem.”
“Works?”
“It’s a music box.”
s.h.i.+ro turned the screw at the base of the box, put it on the tatami mat, and the lid of the box suddenly opened. The metallic sound, accompanied by faint reverberation, started forming a simple melody.
“This tune…”
“I know it! It’s the Christmas song!” Neko exclaimed, leaning forward, and s.h.i.+ro nodded.
“"Stille Nacht”“… it’s called "Silent night” here in j.a.pan, right?“
"Uh-huh… what a nostalgic tune,” Kuroh said with feeling. “In the town I lived in, on Christmas Eve children would gather at the main temple and congratulate each other. And the chief priest would dress as Santa Claus.”
“Aha. That’s great to hear, such a marvelous display of religious tolerance.”
“What about turkey? Did you eat a big turkey?”
“Of course I did, it was a big one, yes. Although it was a fake turkey made from bean curd lees and jelly.”
“Oh, vegetarian cuisine despite the holiday?”
“Eeh? But the real one is better~”
“Well, we thought so, too, and complained about it… fufu, it was fun. We kicked up a ruckus all together…”
“I see~” Neko raised her gaze to the ceiling. “I was always alone… so I didn’t eat a big turkey yet…”
“I was all alone on Christmas, too. Year after year, for decades, up in the sky.”
“Mh… I see. Sorry. It was insensitive of me to bring that up.” Kuroh made a guilty face, but s.h.i.+ro only threw both his hands in the air in a surprisingly jovial gesture.
“No, don’t worry, it’s not like I felt particularly lonely. The nighttime city, illuminated with green and red festive lighting, was bright and lively. I never felt bored watching it all night long.”
“Me, too! Me, too! The city would be all sparky and glittery! And bells would jingle!”
“…Besides, I wasn’t all alone… Probably.”
s.h.i.+ro gave the room a look, as if wis.h.i.+ng for someone who wasn’t here anymore to confirm his words.
“Hm?”
“The Gold King, Kokujouji Daikaku, was what supported this country, being its backbone in politics, economics and military affairs. For decades, he was leading a life so busy that he hardly had time to even sleep. But only on Christmas night, he always reserved just a bit of his time to be only his alone. Every year, without fail.”
s.h.i.+ro took out a few more things out of the box: three small cloth-wrapped items and one book with a red cover.
When the cloth wrapper on each of the items was undone, beneath it, wooden dolls small enough to fit into the palm were revealed: one represented a kneeling woman praying and two were standing figures of men wearing cloaks.
“Dolls…?” Neko wondered.
“That woman is Virgin Mary, I take it?”
“Yup. And Gaspar and Melchior, of the Three Wise Men of the East.”
“Hm? Looks like you have an incomplete set. Only two out of the Three Wise Men? In addition, any set related to Christmas has to have Christ in it, at least, I think.”
“How sharp of you. These dolls - they’re called Krippe - originally were supposed to be a set depicting the birth of Christ, with Virgin Mary, St.Joseph, the Three Wise Men, angels giving their blessings, and also horses, sheep and such. This is only part of the set though.”
“For something that’s supposed to be a uniformed set, the make of the dolls looks all over the place… especially this one, it was clearly made by an amateur.”
The doll Kuroh pointed at, one of the Three Wise Men, had a very rough face, with misshapen eyes and nose. On its own though, the doll’s powerful posture with its back perfectly straight appeared to reflect the adamant and steadfast personality of its maker.
“An amateur… yup, certainly, certainly,” s.h.i.+ro chuckled lightly. “This Melchior was made by the Gold King, Kokujouji Daikaku, personally. Of course it wouldn’t look anything like a work of a professional craftsman. By the way, we carved these dolls together with the Gold King, and this Gaspar is my work. Its make is pretty good, don’t you agree?” Like a child, eager to boast about his treasure, s.h.i.+ro stretched out a hand with the doll held in it.
The doll’s smiling face, with even smallest of the expression’s details perceivable, was in direct opposition to Melchior’s. Behind the elaborate handiwork of the doll one could see what perhaps would be correct to call delicate childishness… in other words, this doll, too, in a sense was a clone of its maker.
Kuroh inclined his head as he took Gaspar. “You and the Gold King carved these figures together, you said… under what circ.u.mstances?”
That was only a natural question. The scene that Kuroh’s mind immediately painted at those words was silly and unrealistic, as if taken out of some myth: the two greatest kings residing on the ground and in the sky respectively met face to face to amuse themselves with childish carving.
“…Back when we still lived in Germany, we spent one Christmas together. We made these then,” s.h.i.+ro said, lowering his eyes to look at Melchior in his hand. “Just before the war ended, we were preparing to move the Slate and related materials to j.a.pan, and the Lieutenant brought these with him. It wasn’t a situation where we could take any personal belongings with us, so he took only what could fit into his pocket…”
“These two Wise Men and Virgin Mary?”
s.h.i.+ro shook his head. “This Mary is not the original one. I guess he probably asked someone to remake it, long after that.”
“I see… She resembles the figure you made though. Did whoever carved it make sure to match your style? …Ah, no.”
Comparing the holy mother and the wise man he currently held in his both hands, Kuroh had realized something. What was similar was not the outward details of the make but the impression about the personality that showed through the dolls.
“Somehow… you come to mind when I look at this, s.h.i.+ro…?”
Kuroh had to agree with Neko’s observation. The figure of the holy mother was made after a person that had an air about them that resembled that of Isana Yas.h.i.+ro - of Adolf K Weissman.
“I’m sure that the model for this figure was Claudia Weissman… my older sister.”
“I see…. She was a beautiful person.”
“Yeah.”
Behind the forms of these three wooden dolls of artless carving - of the kneeling holy mother and of two of the three wise men - those of the young Kokujouji Daikaku and the Weissmann siblings could be glimpsed. And Isana Yas.h.i.+ro - Adolf K Weissman - was seeing them right now.
“This is the shape of our - the Lieutenant’s, my sister’s and my - Christmas. And some day I want to spend another Christmas like that with the Lieutenant… this is my everlasting wish. Although it will take a lot of time for it to come true now, probably.”
Kuroh handed the figures back to s.h.i.+ro, and s.h.i.+ro started lining them up in front of him. A thin book with a hard cover that was in the same box as the dolls was turned into a pedestal for them. The red of the book’s cover was faded and littered with fingerprints.
“Was this book also among the Gold King’s belongings?”
“Yeah. It’s a book I lent him back in Germany. A book that’s being kept because you’re unable to give it back and can’t bring yourself to throw it away… A book or two fitting this description can be found on every bookshelf, no?”
“From the looks of it, he read it through quite a few times… What is this book about?”
“It’s the first edition of d.i.c.kens’ "Christmas Carol” published in 1843. A fairy tale about Christmas Eve. He kept it together with the dolls because of the common Christmas theme, I suppose. And maybe, every year he took it out and opened it. This was what const.i.tuted the Lieutenant’s “Christmas set”, probably.“
"A music box, dolls and a fairy tale, huh. To think that the Gold King would be fond of things like that… I’m surprised.”
“Kokujouji Daikaku was a surprisingly big romanticist at heart.”
“That fairy tale, what is it about? …Is it romantic?” Neko forced her way into the conversation.
“Mm? Well, let’s see…”
s.h.i.+ro’s face took on a theatrical expression as he looked into the s.p.a.ce and started recounting, “…The protagonist was a perpetually scowling old man who hated Christmas.”
“Eh, why?” Neko interrupted, her face puzzled. “I love everything being sparky and glittery, and the jingling bells! And the turkey, too!”
“Yup, normally, every person likes Christmas. But that old man was incredibly obstinate and miserly, and everybody disliked him. So he disliked people in return and couldn’t stand them having fun. His hate for Christmas was essentially his hate for people.”
“Whoooa…” Neko huddled herself up, as if under a gust of cold wind. She was particularly sensitive to matters involving hating others and being hated by them.
“And so, on one lonely hateful Christmas, three apparitions visited the old man’s house, showing him various visions.”
“Apparitions?”
“Yes, apparitions. Spirit, Geist. In other words, ghosts or phantoms… You could probably call them G.o.ds in j.a.pan. The first ghost showed him the past. Watching the scenes from the days bygone, the old man remembered how much he loved his family and his friends, and how he lost them.”
“That’s… sad, no?”
“Yes, that’s a very sad thing,” s.h.i.+ro murmured almost to himself before continuing recounting the novella. “…Next, the old mad was visited by the second ghost that showed him the present: the people who were merrily celebrating Christmas at that moment without the old man, and the children who were so poor that they couldn’t afford to celebrate anything. And then…” s.h.i.+ro’s expression clouded and he turned to Kuroh and Neko. “You know, the Lieutenant might have projected himself onto the protagonist. The perpetually scowling old man observing the world and the course of history from atop the high tower…”
“…No, Kokujouji Daikaku and the main character of that book are clearly different,” Kuroh a.s.serted flatly. “Not only did the Gold King not hate Christmas, he even celebrated it in private. You just said it yourself. If he ever saw something of himself in that character, it would be the solemn att.i.tude that awareness of his responsibilities ca—”
“Enough with that boring complicated stuff!” Neko leaned forward, brus.h.i.+ng Kuroh’s comment off. “s.h.i.+ro, what happened next? What became of that old man? Was he all alone until the end?”
“Mm, after that he…” After a short hesitation, s.h.i.+ro clapped his hands. “He wasn’t. It was a happy ending for him. It’s a fairy tale, after all. The old man changed his ways, becoming a kind and generous person. The city started loving him, and he lived his life happily ever after. The end.”
“I’m so glad~”
“No, wait.” This time, it was Kuroh that forced his way into the conversation. “Something’s missing in your story. What would the old man suddenly change his ways? And you said there was another ghost, didn’t you?”
“Ah, you caught me, eh?” With a lopsided smile, s.h.i.+ro scratched his head. “Well, you’re right… but what the third ghost showed the man was a bit scary, and depressing.”
“Scary?” Neko started trembling bodily.
“The third ghost showed the old man the future. The future that was pretty much hopeless. It was a cold vision void of all happiness. The irrational and sad death of the lovely and bright boy. The old man’s own death in solitude, with no one to be sad about it because everybody hated him. …Because even if one never thinks about it, death is the end that would come to everyone one day.”
After several seconds of silence, Kuroh spoke up. “…I see now. Seeing himself die in that fas.h.i.+on in the future left a deep impression on the old man, making him mend his ways and become a good person.”
“Yup, that’s how it was.”
“What an idiot.”
“Eh?”
“The old man realized what the virtuous way to live was like only through seeing his own death… the expiration limit his life would eventually hit. "Death strips everyone of everything equally, that is why living all alone gives your live no significance. But your life gains meaning if you have others you can pa.s.s on your feelings to and who will continue your work”… this is what the message here is.“
Kuroh took a step forward, and suddenly his face was mere inches away from s.h.i.+ro’s. "Without the visions the last ghost showed, that story’s happy ending couldn’t have happened. And you’re about the only guy in the world who would omit that essential part just because it’s scary and depressing, in your opinion.”
“Yeah… Sorry about that, you’re right, of course.”
“You… It looks to me like that bad habit of yours of avoiding everything you find bothersome isn’t quite gone for good yet.”
“…Yeah. I can’t argue with that, Kuroh.”
‘Huh…?’
s.h.i.+ro who would usually try to gloss over this kind of remark with foolish laughter had just straight-up admitted his fault. Taken by surprise, Kuroh straightened himself and waited for what s.h.i.+ro would say next.
“When I think back to my past, I find that I always was like this… For decades, I was running away from my own "last ghost”, averting my eyes from the harsh reality. From my own past and future, and from the many “deaths” around me.“
Kuroh acknowledged those words with a nod, and s.h.i.+ro continued, "The Lieutenant… That brave and honest man had every right to live a happy life fitting his n.o.ble soul. And yet… because of me being a coward and hiding in the sky for decades, paralyzed with fear, even his life fell into stagnation. …As if the playwright abandoned his writing duty halfway through the story.”
s.h.i.+ro looked out the window. Outside, the traditional j.a.panese garden sprawled, frozen in time.
“And this is yet another mistake that I made… No matter how much I try to atone for it, it will never be enough.”
“What an idiot,” Kuroh reiterated his remark from earlier.
“Eh…?”
“I don’t know what kind of person Kokujouji Daikaku was. But if he chose to walk side by side with you of his own will, then what you must do is not lament the past… but keep walking down your own path and living your own life with your head held high because it’s through the deeds of those who are left behind that significance of the lives of those who have already left this world is proven,” Kuroh speeched with a.s.sertion to s.h.i.+ro who was momentarily taken aback. “…And as those who are standing by your side now, it’s our duty as well. s.h.i.+ro, it’s not wrong to stop for a second and take a look back at your past from time to time. But wallowing in sentiments to the point where you give up on acting in the present is not something that I will ever forg– What’s wrong with you, Neko!”
Kuroh yelped - because Neko went and bit his arms at that moment.
“Grrr~” Neko growled angrily, glaring up at Kuroh. “You’re saying meaningless stuff and bullying s.h.i.+ro again, Kurosuke!”
“We’re talking about principles and reason, it’s not meaningless.”
“I don’t understand that stuff!”
“You little…!”
“…Neko, Kuroh isn’t bullying me. He’s actually trying to encourage me,” s.h.i.+ro tried to reason with Kuroh and Neko who were about to grapple.
“Eh? Really?” Neko’s eyes darted between s.h.i.+ro and Kuroh’s faces a few times, and Kuroh looked away, light pink dusting his cheeks.
“Well… let’s call it "giving a strongly worded pep talk” and leave it at that.“
"Is that so~ How misleading.” Neko patted Kuroh’s arm where she bit it earlier.
s.h.i.+ro’s lips curved up in a lopsided smile, gazing at the three wooden dolls lined up in front of him: the kneeling holy mother and the figures of two of the Three Wise Men standing on each side of her.
The conversation had tapered to a stop, and only the sound of the small music box was still heard in the empty j.a.panese-style room.
It was a fleeting golden moment that, nonetheless, led all the way to eternity.
♦
The silence was disrupted by a PDA ringing. The caller was the Lieutenant of Scepter 4, Awas.h.i.+ma Seri, informing them that all the involved personnel of Scepter 4, as well as of Homura, were in position.
“Understood. We’ll proceed to our stations as well then,” s.h.i.+ro replied and, quickly packing up the dolls and the book back into the box, stood up. “Well then, we’ll have to put this party on hold for now, but let’s continue when everything’s over.”
“Yeah. And tomorrow, I will get us a cake and a turkey,” Kuroh said, following s.h.i.+ro.
But Neko clapped him on the back. “Kurosuke, dolls, too! Don’t forget dolls! …Two of them!”
“Dolls?”
“Yup! So we can line them up next to s.h.i.+ro’s dolls! Mine will be a cat doll, and yours… a horsie will do for you.”
“Where did that come from! And why does mine have to be a horse?”
“No special reason… but s.h.i.+ro said earlier that there were supposed to be horses and sheep… I don’t really care about which one you get either way, so.”
“You little…”
“Ahaha, this promises to be a very lively and exciting Christmas, heh,” s.h.i.+ro gave Kuroh and Neko a grin, then turned around, facing forward.
'It’s time at last, Lieutenant.’ Then, addressing the doll inside the box - his best friend no longer in this world - s.h.i.+ro reaffirmed in his thoughts, 'What kind of future will the guest visiting the castle of the Gold King tonight show us…? No matter what it might be, I will overcome it.’
Followed by Kuroh and Neko, s.h.i.+ro left the Kokujouji residence with long strides.
’…In order for our story to have a happy ending.’
