by Mamare Touno
Waitresses in café costumes continued serving, and several varieties of shortcake had been set out on almost every table. When it was finally Shiroe’s table’s turn, the guild master herself appeared, her face wreathed in smiles, personally carrying out a silver tray.
The silver tray held whole cakes. Strawberry, apricot, chocolate, cheese, black current/yogurt and apple pie, and a slightly early mont blanc.
Twelve cakes.
However, they were twelve whole cakes.
“Hmn?”
Minori looked puzzled, but Akatsuki’s expression had already tensed.
“What’s…?”
In response to Shiroe’s questioning look, the Danceteria guild master beamed.
“Compliments of our guild, sir.”
“No, I mean, I think there’s too much…”
“We’re very considerate here, sir.”
She steamrolled him with a smile, then set dessert after dessert on the little table. The first was apple pie. A young Person of the Earth girl dressed as a waitress said, “I’ll serve it for you,” and sliced it. Once cut into eight equal pieces, the circle was transformed into the usual, familiar triangles, but it was one whole pie.
Of course there was no way that many cakes would fit on a small café table, so a wagon was hastily brought out, parked by the table, and loaded up with whole cakes. Eight of the varieties were the same as what all the other participants had, but four special types seemed to have been added. These were decorated with little dolls made out of sugar candy: a man flanked by two women.
“Shiroe…”
“My liege…”
Of course, as they watched the apple pie being cut up in front of them, the two girls wore strained expressions as well. The apple pie looked delicious, and if he’d had four about this size, Shiroe was confident he’d have been able to eat them all. If the other two said, in that way girls had, We’re full already, he was even prepared to take one piece from each of them and eat six.
He knew from experience that when women pretended to have small appetites that way, it was camouflage, but she had drummed into him the idea that it was a guy’s duty to accept the ruse at face value.
Even so, he could handle only five or six pieces. These cakes had been brought out to them whole, so in simple terms, the amount had octupled. Not only that, but the crazed dance of round cakes in front of him struck Shiroe with an impact that was more than just numbers.
“Well, for starters, should we have a piece?”
At Shiroe’s haphazard words, which had no goal other than buying time, the three of them began to eat the sole pie.
Delicious. The brisk sweetness of the plentiful apples and the faint fragrance of cinnamon were pleasant. As he savored the soft, moist apples, he polished off a piece easily.
Just when Shiroe was on the verge of embracing a naïve hope—You know, this just might…—the remaining five-eighths of the apple pie were set down in front of him.
By Akatsuki.
“Oh, c’mon! Why?!”
“I’m serving you, my liege.”
“Serving? That’s the whole thing!”
“Ah! I’m sorry. I’ll cut it!”
That hadn’t been what he’d meant. The instant he tried to check Minori, Minori was already on her feet, leaning over, and had begun to dexterously cut up the apple pie with a knife. Her expression was serious, and every time she moved the knife, her hair with its black ribbon swung nearer Shiroe’s ear, giving off a faint, sweet scent.
Oh, even if she’s in middle school, I guess she is a girl, he thought, and just then, from here and there around the café, he began to hear mutters: Die, No Lolita lovers allowed, I hope yours falls off, Break your glasses, and on and on.
Akatsuki looked mystified. When he slid his gaze to the side, written on the decorated cakes in clumsy letters were: “Two isn’t fair, you know.” “I hope yours falls off, Mr. Lolita Complex ,” “Two-Timing Tastiness.”
Aaaaaaah?!
At that point, for the first time, Shiroe accurately understood the situation.
A minefield.
The instant he got it, that word popped up in his mind. Shiroe, Akatsuki, and Minori were in the middle of a minefield, littered with mines in the form of misinterpretations from the people around them. It wasn’t only Shiroe’s reputation; two of his precious guild members were being targeted by the same prejudice.
Not good! If this keeps up, they’ll both get dragged in. And people think I’m a strategist… This is pathetic. For now, we have to leave the café unobtrusively, without causing a fuss, keeping the damage to a minimum, then regroup, or else…
Shiroe examined countermeasures, his brain spinning at high speed.
Since he didn’t know how far the misunderstanding had spread, and it wasn’t even clear where the situation had begun, even if he grasped the situation, he couldn’t bring it under control. In that sense, Shiroe couldn’t even shift into controlled encounter mode. Akatsuki held a fork out to him.
“My liege, here.”
On its tines sat a cute, bite-sized piece of apple pie.
“You want me to eat that?”
Akatsuki nodded. You’re shoving the rest off onto me?! he almost shot back, but her large black eyes were watching him steadily, and he found himself unable to retort. Akatsuki always dressed plainly, but today she was wearing an imitation-bellflower hair ornament. That only made it harder.
Shiroe was scowling, fighting embarrassment. Akatsuki tilted her head slightly, looking perplexed, then pushed the fork she held in her right hand toward him.
“Eat, my liege.”
She held it out to him, but to Shiroe, this was a big problem.
As far as the world was concerned, eating from a fork someone held out to you meant they were having you say, “Aaaah.” One look at Akatsuki’s sulky, too-serious face made it clear that the act didn’t stem from affection, but the people around them probably wouldn’t understand that.
If this kept up, he’d be disgraced as a guy with a Lolita complex.
If he stepped on this land mine, forget losing a leg; he might lose his whole lower body. The looks he was getting from the people around him already hurt. On top of that, this was an open café, and it was the biggest event of the first night of the festival, so they were getting cold looks from people on the street as well.
“Come on, it’s going to fall.”
Still, when the slipping fragment was forced on him, he had to take it. Stealthy giggles from the people around him and the image of fingers being pointed at him rose in his mind, and Shiroe wished the ground would open up and swallow him.
“Shiroe!”
When Shiroe turned around, even Minori had cut a tiny sliver of golden pie and was holding it out to him, eyes sparkling. When confronted with a look of innocent expectation from someone nine whole years his junior, he couldn’t treat her coldly.
No matter how you look at it, they’re both far too clueless about this situation. I’m telling you, now is the time to beat a retreat. We’re making a spectacle of ourselves!
“Is it good?”
“Of course it is, isn’t it, my liege.”
“Yes, it’s good, but listen. …The matter’s gone beyond that level, don’t you think?”
He tried retorting, but the couples around them were also doing the “Aaaaah” thing. He’d vaguely suspected as much, but seeing the reality with his own eyes this way completely shattered Shiroe.
Apparently, the town of Akiba was more filled with love than he’d thought.
If he assumed most of the giggling whispers were simply the playful sweet nothings of couples in love instead of ridicule aimed at Shiroe’s group, they might still be saved. Shiroe tried to console himself with the thought, anyway, but of course it didn’t solve the problem.
One advances through reality with an endless series of small steps. This was symbolized, unmistakably, by the cakes piled high in front of him.
6
Just as reality isn’t something you can overcome simply by trying, it was only to be expected that Shiroe, Akatsuki, and Minori’s attempt failed. If it had been three of them and twelve pieces of cake, they would have had a chance, but twelve whole cakes made it a completely different ballgame. Since their stomachs weren’t magic bags, it wasn’t possible.
The three of them had tried very hard, but even then, they’d topped out at eighteen pieces, or in other words, a little more than two whole cakes. Shiroe had been responsible for nine of those, and frankly, he felt so sick he didn’t want to move.
Having lost the cake buffet battle, the three of them dejectedly returned to their guild house. Of course, since they hadn’t been able to finish everything, it hadn’t been free, so Shiroe had ended up paying for twelve whole cakes.
In terms of time, it was probably close to eight PM.
Shiroe was currently relaxing on the guild house’s third-floor terrace. …Or, more accurate, he was pinned there, his stomach so heavy that he didn’t feel like moving.
They’d originally planned to wander around the festival and browse after their cake escapade, but Shiroe had felt as if the mass of cake was weighing his insides down, and he was thoroughly worn out. He wasn’t in any shape for a walk, and so, even though Akatsuki and Minori fared a little better than him, they’d gone back to the guild house.
According to the blackboard in the dining area, Nyanta and Naotsugu were both out at the festival. Isuzu and Rundelhaus had written, “Taking dog for walk.” They’d probably gone on a date.
Having confirmed this, Shiroe then went out onto the terrace and lay on a cedar bench by himself.
It was probably safe to say he was down for the count.
In any case, the world could be only what it was, and today, Shiroe had lost.
You see? You just can’t count on advance investigation.
Now that he thought about it, the Danceteria guild master really had been extraordinarily smiley back then. She’d probably already been planning to counterattack with whole cakes. True, it had looked as if he was tackling the event with a pretty girl on each arm, but they weren’t in that sort of relationship. He didn’t think they’d had any call to be so jealous.
And anyway, twelve whole cakes, just for going with Akatsuki and Minori? What sort of calculation was that? …Oh. Wait.
Having hit on an idea, Shiroe set up a telechat. He was planning to tell Soujirou he should go to the cake buffet. The free buffet would be held at the open café at different times throughout the next day as well. Soujirou, his harem-prone former comrade, was sure to enjoy the event to the fullest.
On the other end of the telechat, Soujirou seemed to be spending time at the festival with his guild members. He couldn’t tell what they were talking about, but behind the conversation with Soujirou, he could hear several feminine voices. Apparently, as usual, Soujirou was surrounded by “flowers.”
Soujirou thanked Shiroe over and over for recommending the buffet. His trusting attitude did sting Shiroe’s conscience a little, but an honest escort like himself had been mistaken for a two-timer and targeted by a whole-cake attack. He told himself an actual harem-believing being should be given appropriate treatment.
After switching off the telechat function, Shiroe leaned into the back of the bench and looked up at the sky, feeling just a little relieved.
Log Horizon’s guild house had one extraordinary feature: An ancient tree pierced the building’s floors, growing up through the roof. The old tree spread its branches wide over the building, and its crown enfolded the spaces where Shiroe and the others lived.
A blanket of green leaves gently swayed in the wind, jutting out like a roof over the terrace where Shiroe lay.
Possibly because of the festival, more lights than usual were lit along the wide avenue. The sun was long down, and the orange light that seeped from stores here and there cast a dreamlike illumination over sidewalks, along with the lamps that hung above the streets. The sidewalks were covered in green moss, and the buildings decorated with tree branches and ribbons.
The Log Horizon guild house was decorated just for the festival too, albeit modestly, with a green wreath and an orange ribbon. Minori and Touya had probably done it.
I haven’t been able to look after the guild much lately, Shiroe thought after ending his telechat with Soujirou.
Ordinarily, a guild master’s most important job was running his guild. He was expected to manage things by having a complete grasp of the guild, accommodating member activities, and setting up and leading action plans.
However, circumstances at Log Horizon were a bit different from what they were at other guilds.
The first was their membership numbers. Log Horizon currently had eight members. In Elder Tales, there were six members in a standard party. That meant that if they formed a party from their eight guild members, no matter how they did it, two people would end up staying home.
There was also a sizable spread between member levels, and on top of that, they were split into two level tiers. The older members—Shiroe, Naotsugu, Nyanta, and Akatsuki—were all level 90, while the younger members—Minori, Touya, Rundelhaus, and Isuzu—were all currently around level 40.
It wasn’t easy to organize a party across those two level groups.
In an average guild, the high-level players and the low-level players would probably have split up and gone around with players in their own level groups most of the time. That was how things naturally went.
However, Log Horizon’s high-level group was made up entirely of veterans who were good at looking after people. Naotsugu and the others thought nothing of using the Coach System to put themselves on the same level as the low-level players, and thanks to them, their numbers went around well.
So, as far as leaders were concerned, they had a full, talented lineup.
Nyanta was an ideal adult, with the humor and patience necessary for instructing low-level players. Technically, the guild master should have taken the initiative in looking after these players on low-level adventures, but Nyanta did it perfectly, and he seemed to enjoy it.
Naotsugu had that aptitude as well. He was far more rough-and-ready than Nyanta, and he seemed suited to leading large groups. When newbies came from the Crescent Moon League to plan three-party joint hunting expeditions, Naotsugu was the one new players from other guilds admired most.
Although she was a poor talker and rather shy with strangers, Akatsuki had no problem with leading newbies, either. The newbies would go out hunting, bag some prey, and return home. During that time, they would never see Akatsuki, but she would be constantly watching them and protecting them from high-level monsters. In her own way, she enjoyed being a leader.
In other words, Log Horizon had all the personnel it needed to lead and plan hunting expeditions, the things guild masters had to do at other guilds. That was what had enabled Shiroe to work exclusively on Round Table Council business in the first place.
However, although delegating guild master duties caused no issues with day-to-day operations, he couldn’t say there were no problems when it came to human relations within the guild.
When he thought back on it, of all the high-level players, Shiroe had spent the least time with the new members. Of course, he shifted his schedule around so that he could have dinner at the guild house and work on cultivating friendships, but Shiroe sometimes noticed dubious looks, particularly from Rundelhaus and Isuzu—Our guild master isn’t a lazy hermit, is he?—and he’d been thinking he needed to do something about it.
As far as the dignity of a guild master is concerned, Naotsugu and Captain Nyanta both have me beat… Even Soujirou manages his harem—I mean, his guild—like that.
It made Shiroe feel oddly sad. Of course, he couldn’t take every role people wanted him to play, and the current situation was the result of assigning the right tasks to the right people, but he constantly felt as though he should spend more time with the Log Horizon members.
&n
bsp; Shiroe thought that might have been the reason Akatsuki and Minori had gone out of their way to pull him outside.
This festival might be a good opportunity. The Round Table Council business… I guess I can’t just drop it, but I’ll cut back a bit. I need to make time to spend with everybody.
“My liege.”
Shiroe jumped.
As he thought about so many details, Akatsuki spoke to him—not loudly—from very close, startling him.
“What’s the matter, Akatsuki?”
“Nothing, really…”
Akatsuki was wearing the same charming kimono-style top she’d worn earlier. She sat down quietly next to Shiroe. The cool, nocturnal October wind stroked their cheeks, and the sound of slow string music drifted up to them from the town.
“I hear music.”
“Oh. Mm-hmm. I…think it’s probably the Seventh Marching Band. I heard they were holding a concert tonight.”
“I see.”
Sitting on the bench, Akatsuki stretched out her legs. The bench was low, and even though Akatsuki was short and sitting down, it looked as though she’d kicked her legs out in front of her. With her toes peeking out from the tail of her sober hakama, Akatsuki wiggled her ankles back and forth slightly. Shiroe spoke to her:
“You’re kind of quiet.”
“I’m always quiet.”
“True, but…”
In this world, where electric loudspeakers hadn’t yet been invented, concerts were limited to the actual volume of the performance. The melody the wind carried up to them still held hints of liveliness, but it was broken and distant.
Shiroe looked at Akatsuki.
The wind that brushed their faces had grown cold. In the midst of it, Akatsuki was gazing into the distance with her usual, unreadable expression.
“My liege.”
“Hm?”
“Do you…um.”
“Yes?”
Shiroe responded to Akatsuki politely. Although his small friend didn’t say much, he knew she tended to pay attention to others’ needs, so he didn’t rush her.
