Authors: Hasekura Isuna
He took a bite of the now-cold sandwich, washing it down with liquor.
The golden light of the dawn began to reflect on the cobblestone streets.
“Are you not going to ask?” inquired Lawrence.
Holo took a deep breath. She grabbed his sleeve. Her hand trembled—either because of the cold or something else.
“Hm?”
“Do—do you remember...” Holo looked at him with uncertain eyes. “When I was facing the dog and the girl..., whose name did you call out?”
She did not appear to be joking.
Her eyes were seriousness itself.
“The blood was rushing in my head, and I couldn’t hear. But it’s been gnawing at me. I am quite sure you called someone’s name. Do you remember?”
Lawrence hesitated as they walked slowly through the city streets, the sun now beginning to rise.
How should he answer? The truth was that he didn’t remember.
But what if Holo actually did remember and she was only trying to get him to confirm it?
If he had called Holo’s name, that would be fine. The problem would come if he had called for Norah.
In that case, saying he didn’t know would mean he’d blurted out Norah’s name without really knowing or remembering what he was saying.
And in that case, Holo would certainly be angry. It would be better to honestly admit he had called Norah’s name and come up with some vague reason as to why.
There was another possibility, of course—that Holo really hadn’t heard at all.
In which case, it would be best to say he had called her name.
Having thought it through so thoroughly, Lawrence realized the extent of his own stupidity.
The girl next to him was the Wisewolf Holo. She would see right through any lies.
In which case, the correct answer was—
“I called your name.”
After looking for a moment like the eyes of an abandoned puppy, Holo’s eyes flashed with hatred.
“That is a lie.”
She tightened her grip on his sleeve, and Lawrence answered immediately.
“It is. The truth is I don’t remember. However—”
Holo’s ears flicked underneath the kerchief on her head faster than her facial expression could change.
She should know that what he had just said wasn't a lie.
“—In those circumstances, I certainly think I would've called your name,” he said, looking steadily back at her.
As quickly as her eyes had flashed with hatred, Holo now looked back at him with a hint of doubt in her gaze.
There was no way to tell whether or not that was the truth; she would have to decide.
For his part, Lawrence put forth the most persuasive argument he could think of.
“Time was of the essence. I’m sure I would’ve unconsciously chosen to call your name. After all—”
Holo’s grip tightened.
“After all, it’s one letter shorter.”
He could almost feel the expression drop from her face.
“Also, if I’d shouted ‘Norah’ even hastily, you’d be able to tell. But Holo takes but a moment to say—it would be easy to miss with blood roaring through your head. What do you think? Quite a persuasive argument—”
He didn’t finish his sentence because Holo struck him in the mouth.
“Shut up.”
Even her small, soft hand hurt quite a bit since Lawrence’s lip was split slightly where the Remelio Company book had struck him.
“So you called my name because it was shorter? Dunce! Fool!” she said, yanking on his sleeve. “It’s infuriating that you would even think that!” She looked flatly opposite him as if to turn him away.
Lawrence wondered if it would have been better to just tell an obvious lie, but he had the feeling Holo would’ve been angry either way.
As they walked, they approached the east gate; there were more people around now busily setting about their day.
Holo walked slightly in front of him, alone.
Just as he wondered what she was going to do, she stopped.
“Just—” she stood there—
“—call it out,” said Holo, her back turned to Lawrence.
Past her, Lawrence saw a bell at the end of a long staff.
He heard the bleating of the sheep behind a figure.
What he saw beyond Holo was a shepherd girl leading a black sheepdog.
In that very instant, he knew the smuggling had succeeded. He couldn’t help but be happy. He might easily have called out Norah’s name.
Lawrence smiled at Holo’s clever, bald-faced actions.
The moment he opened his mouth to call out the name, he sneezed.
“Achoo!”
Now the truth of which name he called out would remain forever a mystery.
Holo looked over her shoulder, chagrined. He had gotten the better of her.
Lawrence ignored her and waved broadly three times just as when he had first met Norah on the road.
Norah noticed and returned the wave.
Holo regarded Norah over her shoulder.
That was the moment Lawrence was waiting for.
“Holo.”
Her wolf ears twitched.
“Holo really is easier to call.”
A puff of vapor appeared at Holo’s mouth as she exhaled, admitting defeat.
“You dunce.”
Lawrence loved her ticklish smile even more than the warm late-autumn sunshine.
Afterword
It has been a while! This is Hasekura Isuna. Well, here’s volume 2.I know; I’m shocked, too.
But if you wish to know what is most shocking of all, it’s that when I started to write this second volume, I utterly forgot the personalities of the two main characters.
I know it sounds unbelievable, but it’s true, even though I myself can barely believe it. You always hear about bird-brained people who forget everything after taking three steps, and that definitely fits a chicken who reads a horror story on the Net and gets so freaked out he can’t even go to the bathroom, right?
Now that I think about it, there’s one more surprising thing. What is it, you ask? Well, I bought stock. Having won a prize for writing a novel with a merchant as the protagonist, I put half the prize money into a certain stock. I wrote about it in the afterword for volume 1, too, and I get this evil grin on my face when I think about multiplying my money in the stock market. This time my delusions have just gotten wilder, but perhaps as a consequence of some shadowy group’s trap, the stock dropped steadily for two weeks. It even fell on a day when 90 percent of the stocks on the market rose. Right behind the window I’m writing this afterword in, there’s a stock tool that tells me every minute change in the price, and today it seems to be trading in a very narrow range. Although it is dropping. It seems that it’s not going well, just like the novel. How odd...
I’m a sad piece of work, but I hope you’ve enjoyed this book.
Once again Ayakura Jyuu-sensei provided wonderful illustrations; they fit the images in my head perfectly. Thank you so much. Also, to my editor—I am so sorry for all the mistakes in my Japanese. Next time—next time, I promise!—I’ll try to write the novel so we can finish in a single meeting.
And of course, to all those who hold this book in your hands, my heartfelt thanks.
I hope to see you all again in volume 3.
—Hasekura Isuna