“You go and get the clay from the shed. I have heard ’tis sweeter the more clay there is. Bring plenty please.”
“Oh, that’s almost like—”
Lawrence said that much but cut himself off.
Holo looked up at him blankly, but she smiled and brushed it off.
“Got it. Then we’ll meet in front of the oven.”
“Mm.”
They exchanged light kisses, with Lawrence crouched forward and Holo standing on her toes, then went off to carry out their missions.
As Lawrence made his way to the shed out back, he thought about how the onions reminded him of themselves. The thicker their experiences were over the years, the sweeter the inside became. He did consider if it might be too sweet, but that was worth its own pleasure.
Lawrence prepared what he needed, then quickly returned to the fireplace in the guest hall. There were no guests up this late, and the red, ash-covered coals were crackling softly. Holo arrived just then as well, and they chuckled when they looked at each other. No matter what they said, it would not be enough to express how they felt.
“Holo.”
“Hmm?”
Lawrence did not respond with words and merely smiled. Holo, too, understood what he meant, and like their tomboyish daughter, she bared her teeth in a grin.
Their days were not a repeat of one after another. There was no end to what they could enjoy.
This was but one scene in the quiet of night that convinced him of that.
BLUE DREAMS AND WOLF
The sky turned a deeper blue and the smell of greenery wafted from the forest. In the mountains of the hot spring village Nyohhira, where half the year was spent covered in snow, summer had finally arrived.
Lawrence, the master of the bathhouse Spice and Wolf, inhaled a lungful of the summer air, but it was something else entirely that let him know of the season’s arrival.
“…Honestly.”
It was when he took the ink from the record book back to the bedroom. Lawrence opened the door and sighed, exasperated.
He had wondered where his wife, Holo, might be since he had not seen her around the bathhouse, but there she was, sleeping soundly on the bed. On the desk by the bed was a cup of ale, still mostly full, so she had probably ended up nodding off after taking several sips from it as she gazed at the sky.
Leaving the window open in this season allowed the cool breeze to brush against his cheek while birdsongs tickled his ears. There was no greater luxury than spending the days lazily watching the clouds float by in the bright blue sky.
In the middle of it all was Holo, who resembled a silly-looking cat as she lay on her back with her mouth half open. Her right hand rested on her stomach and rose and fell with her soft snoring.
As he watched her, he saw her right hand occasionally scratch her stomach, and he smiled wryly.
The way she slept on the bed made her appear as if she were only a girl of just over ten years old, and it was tempting to say that it was very unbecoming of a girl her age, but alas—Holo was not the girl she seemed to be. Her true form was that of a giant wolf that lived in wheat and controlled its harvest.
And so on her head were wolf ears that were covered in the same flax-colored fur as her regular hair, and a fluffy tail grew from her backside. The hairs on her tail, which she could not go without maintaining, fluttered in the gentle breeze drifting in from the window.
Her wolflike features were not limited to her ears and tail but also in the way she slept.
In the winter, Holo curled up facedown like a wolf, but as it grew warmer she stretched her body farther and farther out. At this time of year, her arms and legs were splayed out in all directions and she lay on her back. There was nothing that frightened her in this world, simply enjoying it as it was.
How peaceful she seemed—foolish even.
Holo would without a doubt grow angry if she found out that Lawrence marked the passing of the seasons by how she slept.
And of course, he would no longer be able to look forward to it every year, so he took great care to hide it.
This year, too, after enjoying watching Holo for a moment, he dropped his gaze to the desk beside the bed. A quill and paper still sat out on it, and beside some writing was a rather crude drawing. It was of the currants they gathered yesterday, and there were a few berries sitting on the paper.
Currants were not inedible on their own, but they were sour enough to pucker one’s face. Holo would occasionally eat the sour berries on their own on purpose to fluff up her tail much larger than usual.
The heaps of currants they gathered in this season were sometimes dipped in sugar, boiled in honey, or made into a form of alcohol.
Lawrence picked up one of the black berries and played with it in his hand. Then, after looking out the window and taking a deep breath, he sat at the edge of the bed Holo slept on.
After he gazed for a few moments at her sleeping face, relaxed with eyes still closed, he picked up the currant in his palm with two fingers and placed it gently on her lips.
Her wolf ears stood up straight and her eyelids briefly fluttered so he thought she might wake up, but she gave no indication of doing so. Rather, with her wolflike caution nowhere to be seen, her lips did not even tighten.
The gluttonous great wisewolf’s lips began moving in a chewing motion the moment food touched her lips, even in her sleep, and the currant berry went down quickly—
“Nom…Mmm…”
It was just after she bit into the berry.
“Mmmmmmmm!”
It was so sour, Holo leaped up.
“Mn, ngh…Guh. Wh-what on—?!”
As though she had unconsciously swallowed it the moment she jumped awake, Holo patted her throat and her chest.
Lawrence, amused by her agitation, handed her the ale she had started drinking and forgotten about. Holo took advantage of the situation and clung to it, then it seemed she finally understood what was going on. It would not be difficult to put it together after seeing the currants on the desk and Lawrence, who sat at the edge of the bed, smiling.
The fire in her reddish-amber eyes glinted.
“…You…fool!”
A long time ago, Lawrence would have trembled in fear when seeing such a show of ferocity, but it had been over ten years since he and Holo married. He took the now-empty mug from Holo’s hands as she threatened to bite him and wiped away the white froth around her mouth with his thumb.
“You up now?”
Holo glared at the smiling Lawrence, grasped his wrist with both hands, and forcefully wiped her mouth on him. At last, she bit the back of his hand and grumpily looked away in a huff.
“And what on earth is the meaning of this?!”
The vain Holo did not deal with surprise very well. While too much would really push her into a bad mood, he probably would not be punished if he occasionally saw this side of her to soothe the blues of work.
Lawrence reached out to stroke her head, but she swatted his hand away.
He adored her so much when she pouted, but he had to speak before she truly got angry with him.
“I’ve got some work for you. It’s your turn now.”
“…”
She gave him a grumpy, sidelong glance before sighing and getting out of bed.
Lawrence spread a large, aged map on the table, and the puff of dust that came from it made Holo sneeze.
“Sniff…What is this?”
Holo asked with displeasure as she rubbed her nose, and when he heard hear, Lawrence looked even more displeased.
“You don’t remember?”
“Hmm?”
Holo stared back at him blankly, but after looking between Lawrence’s face and the map, she mumbled in recognition.
“Ah…Achoo! Sniff…And why have you brought out such an old thing?”
It sounded like she finally remembered.
There were all sorts of notes written on the map spread before them, and there was a stain on o
ne part from spilled alcohol.
It was the map Lawrence and Holo had made to pinpoint a good place to build a bathhouse when they started up their business here in Nyohhira. In other words, it was an old treasure map to let them find their home in the northlands.
“Once the treasure is found, a treasure map no longer has any use. I forgot about it entirely. That Myuri gazed at it once or twice at least, did she not?”
Lawrence reached out to wipe Holo’s nose with a handkerchief, and her tail flopped about as she spoke.
“And? What are you doing with this? I hope you do not plan to open another one?”
To build an annex to the bathhouse Spice and Wolf and expand their business…That was a dream he had long ago. Now, it was more important to keep their bathhouse modest yet unparalleled.
“No, what I want to ask you to do is from here to here.”
Lawrence slid his finger from the village of Nyohhira to the west.
It went deep into the woods, beyond a cluster of mountains, where even the smallest communities did not yet exist.
“I want you to find a road that connects these places.”
“A road?”
Holo repeated dubiously, and Lawrence responded.
“You’ve gone here many times in your wolf form, right?”
“True, but…No, ’tis the very reason why I know there is no road there.”
What Lawrence pointed to was a line that connected a certain land directly to the hot spring village of Nyohhira.
What lay there was a single building, which, at one time, was feared as a place that might have grown to become Nyohhira’s business rival.
“I know. We’re going to make one. But you know what places are easy to walk through and what places are difficult, right? And one more thing.”
Lawrence poked the tip of one of Holo’s wolf ears.
“There should be places that those in the forest definitely do not want people to enter.”
When he said that, Holo furrowed her brow and pursed her lips.
Her reddish eyes glared at him most likely because he had brought her such troublesome work.
“What troublesome work you have brought me.”
It was exactly what he thought she would say, and Lawrence gave her a tired smile and shrugged.
“’Tis that, is it not? A road to the inn Selim and her kin made? Is that all right? Do you not consider them rivals in trade?”
Selim was a young girl who was working in the bathhouse, and she was not human, either. Like Holo, she was the embodiment of a wolf, and along with her brother and friends, who were also wolves, she had come from the south to the north, looking for a safe place to live. After many twists and turns, Selim came to work at Lawrence’s bathhouse, but her brother, Aram, and the others were different. On the other side of the mountains from Nyohhira, they ended up running a post town in the name of a miracle of a saint while pretending to be monks.
The memory of the bathhouse masters in Nyohhira growing agitated over a rival after hearing the rumors of Aram and the others setting up their residence there was still fresh in Lawrence’s mind.
But that had never been Selim or her brother’s intention, nor did they have the capacity or springs to compete with Nyohhira in the little village they created.
Additionally, what was more important to them was Selim, one of their own, working under Lawrence, and most importantly of all, how great of a deal Holo was to them.
Regardless, either was enough for Aram to suggest the following:
“Would it be possible for the bathhouses in Nyohhira to receive the pilgrims that come to our village?”
Lawrence accepted the favor and reported it to the assembly for bathhouse masters in Nyohhira.
Though they were conservative about everything, they were not blind to trade.
They understood that they would not be fighting over guests, and it was rather not a terrible idea if guests traveling on a pilgrimage also came to Nyohhira. Also, guests who came to Nyohhira would have something new to enjoy if they connected with Aram’s village. While the masters often boasted about how they could soothe the boredom of their long-term guests, their ideas were not very diverse. And so, with a new pilgrimage site, the guests could go out on a leisurely trip for a few days, which would make the bathhouse masters’ work easier.
The assembly unanimously agreed to it, but there was a problem.
“A road, then?”
“It’d be nice if there were animal trails, but I think we’d cause problems for the forest residents if we just started using them.”
Holo, arms crossed, flitted her wolf ears every which way as a growl rumbled deep in her throat.
The forest had its own rules, so it would only bring trouble if they naively assumed things would end without incident.
That was even more so the case since it was not Holo’s style to return to her giant wolf form and force them to listen to her.
“It’s too far away for human legs to travel in a day, so we’ll need a hut for resting. It wouldn’t be good for either party if there was a bear cave or deer path nearby, right? I thought that you might know how to handle that stuff.”
“Hnnnng…”
Holo moaned, took a deep breath, then kicked her foot childishly.
“Why not have Selim do it? Those in the forest shall understand if she says she works in my name.”
Selim was also the embodiment of a wolf, so it was not impossible for her to do this job.
But she was an absolutely crucial employee in the management of the bathhouse.
From dawn until dusk, she single-handedly took care of all the odd jobs around the house, and at night, she put on her pair of spectacles made from polished shards of glass and did their writing work by candlelight.
Were Lawrence to express his most honest feelings, he would say that Holo—who in this comfortable season stayed the whole day napping in her bed, enticed by the cool breeze—was only half as useful as Selim.
Of course, he was aware that mentioning that would bring the whole household into danger, so he worked his wisdom as the ex-merchant he once was.
“There’s a reason why I can only ask you.”
“…Hmm?”
Holo gazed at him doubtfully, daring him to talk her into it.
Lawrence nearly whispered his response to Holo in an especially admirable fashion.
“Most of the guests who come to Nyohhira to bathe are elderly, right? So them going to Aram’s village means they’ll have to walk.”
“…Do you mean to imply that I, too, am elderly?”
Holo was hundreds of years old.
He caught a glimpse of a fang beneath her lips, but Lawrence, of course, stayed calm and continued.
“No. The reason I can’t let Miss Selim do it is because of that form of yours.”
“…Hmm?”
Lawrence placed his hand on Holo’s cheek, rubbed the corner of her eye with the pad of his thumb, then patted her on the head.
If she behaved, Holo’s childlike nature was almost palatable.
“Opening up a new road is tough work, and just deciding where it goes first is enough to start arguments. If we leave it to the slow-moving assembly, we’d never know when it might be finished. But if you could walk it in your body, then most of the guests that come to Nyohhira could. That’s why you can explain why we’d have to put the road where it is, right?”
Holo looked at the map and then back up at him with wide, pitiful eyes.
Lawrence wrung out all the power he could muster into his next sentence.
“You are much cuter than Miss Selim. You can convince the villagers way better.”
“…”
Holo’s eyes silently bored into Lawrence. They held not a single glimmer, but she suddenly shut them and turned away.
“Hmph.”
Holo huffed, her lips slightly pursed, her ears and tail flitting happily.
“The only thing you are a master of are your words.
Then I shall succumb to your sweet talk.”
Lawrence bowed his head graciously to Holo, who put on a grumpy act.
“It’s a big help.”
Holo side-eyed Lawrence and sniffed once again, then closed her eyes, turned her shoulder to him, and bumped him with it.
Lawrence made a fatigued smile and embraced the needy wolf.
“So? Shall I just draw a line where I think might be a good road?”
“No, the village hunters, woodcutters, and Aram will be going with—join the survey with them.”
Holo, whose eyes were narrowed in the comfort of his arms, suddenly looked cross.
“What, there will be others? I do not wish to be seen by others. You feel the same, no?”
Holo was not human and did not age. She had tried to conceal herself as much as possible for the past ten-some years since coming to the village to hide that fact, but there was another reason.
Holo was rather shy.
“Please. They’ve finally acknowledged me as a member of the village. If you, my wife, can pull this off well, then we can finally be one of them.”
Holo, a wolf who lived in a pack, was even more sensitive to this kind of talk.
And since she had once experienced controlling a village’s wheat harvest, alone and thankless, she knew well the pain of living with the feeling of being alienated.
Her expression was still honestly upset, but in the end, she sighed, drooping her shoulders.
“Hmph…What a troublesome household I have married into.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Lawrence embraced Holo one more time, and her tail rustled back and forth.
“Well, I suppose ’twould not be terrible to go for a walk with you sometimes.”
Lawrence felt guilty at how she smiled and said that to him.
She of course realized this and stared at him in surprise.
“H…mm?”
“Sorry…I have to stay in the bathhouse.”
Holo’s eyes widened slightly and her mouth closed shut. Her wolf ears trembled sadly and drooped.
He was not sure what to say to her, as she was so happy at the prospect of walking around the mountains together…But then again, he noticed how puffed up her tail was, and he sighed.
Spring Log III Page 8
