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Spring Log IV

Page 19

by Isuna Hasekura


  “I’m sorry? You may drink with your payment.”

  “Come on…”

  As they conversed, Lawrence and Holo disappeared into the crowd. No matter how they were jostled about by the throng of people or how they hurled insults at each other, they still held on tightly to each other’s hands.

  Their long-awaited journey had just begun.

  That was an episode in a port town, under a clear sky and cool winds but with still a hint of summer left.

  ANOTHER BIRTHDAY AND WOLF

  This is a story of when two beautiful wolves still lived deep in the steam-filled mountains of Nyohhira…

  It was early spring, where the daytime was rather warm but the nighttime was still very cool.

  All the bathhouses in the northern hot spring village of Nyohhira were relaxing—all their winter guests had gone home.

  But there was one bathhouse that stood rather deep in the mountains that had its lights on quite late into the night.

  There were many people squeezed in the great hall of Spice and Wolf. There were rather well-dressed merchants, as well as aging men who looked like monks at first glance. There was even a slew of beast-like mercenaries, scars decorating their cheeks—even in a place like Nyohhira, where all sorts of travelers gathered, it was still a diverse roster of people. What these people, hailing from different standings and walks of life, had in common was that they were easily relaxing together. They had spent the day soaking in the baths until the sun went down and were now sipping on wine to cool themselves off.

  However, what they were enjoying was not only the alcohol.

  They had gathered in that bathhouse that day in order to pass on their words of congratulations.

  “If I may be so bold.”

  All the guests lazing about in the great hall turned to look at the owner of the bathhouse, Lawrence. He had made his way up in the world as a traveling merchant, and this would be the start of his tenth year since opening the bathhouse. His demeanor had entirely transformed into that of a bathhouse master.

  Following Lawrence into the center of the hall was Luward, who was like a beast with his close-cropped hair.

  Luward was the leader of a valiant mercenary company that everyone in the northlands knew; he unwrapped a scarlet cloth that sat on his hands, and something small sat delicately in the middle.

  He was the type to stand by his own opinion, even if he came face-to-face with God, but he knelt before Lawrence, who stood in front of the hearth, and held out both hands.

  “…I am humbled.”

  As Lawrence reached out to the small item laying atop the open scarlet cloth, he spoke with a rather joking tone. The wolflike mercenary grinned.

  What Lawrence picked up was a golden coin.

  The profile of a woman was carved on it. She had long hair and was looking down, a smile on her face and a fertile ear of wheat wrapped around her head.

  It was a coin that Lawrence had had specially made, and it held no value beside the gold material it was fashioned from.

  But this coin had a special meaning.

  With a flood of emotions, Lawrence plugged the coin into a board placed above the hearth. There were several round spaces in it, meant for putting gold coins on display.

  It had been meant as savings at first. If running the bathhouse did not go well, then he would use this to fund his return to peddling.

  But the bathhouse had been a hit since opening day, growing livelier and livelier every year, and there were times they even had to turn away guests.

  There had been ten spaces in total on that board. He had put a coin in every year.

  And Lawrence had now filled every opening with gold coins.

  “Congratulations,” Luward said with delight, holding back an impish smile, like he was Lawrence’s vassal.

  All the guests gathered in the great hall offered their words of congratulations, and Lawrence responded as they did so.

  “And now, let us drink to new departures!” the gracefully smiling woman from the coin yelled.

  That was Holo, who was the centuries-old wisewolf who resided in wheat and had wolf ears and a tail and was also the one who had worked hand in hand with Lawrence to build this bathhouse.

  Even Lawrence, who typically cautioned Holo for her drinking habits, did not fuss over the little things today.

  Holo went straightaway to filling everyone’s mugs with wine, and Lawrence scooped her up like they were newlyweds.

  Then, as their guests hooted at them and Holo tried desperately to keep her cup from spilling, Lawrence gave her a kiss on the cheek stronger than any drink.

  Could others hear them from beyond the door—no, from beyond the window?

  Col, the live-in helper at the bathhouse, smiled wryly in his quiet room at the commotion downstairs.

  Everyone in the bathhouse was an old and familiar acquaintance of his, so he was not troubled by them making noise.

  Someone had immediately brought out an instrument, and he could catch the notes of a brisk tune.

  He had no doubt that they would all be hungover the following day, and the bathhouse would be full of groans.

  “Can we go yet, Brother?”

  There came a whine from someone before Col.

  There was a girl sitting on a backless chair, facing away from him.

  “All the food’ll be gone if we don’t go down quickly.”

  She naughtily rocked the chair, not bothering to hide her impatience.

  The face that looked back over her shoulder at him was exactly the same as that of her mother, Holo, who was making merry downstairs. The only difference was the strange color of her hair, which looked like flecks of silver mixed into ash, and the rascal-like energy about her.

  “Myuri, starting today, you need to be much more careful about these things.”

  “Whaaat…?”

  “I’ve explained it to you countless times.”

  When Col said that, Myuri made a big frown.

  “Come now—face forward.”

  Myuri reluctantly faced forward again, but her tension in her shoulders revealed her rebellion.

  Myuri was the only daughter of the couple who Col worked for, and since they had been together since she was born, she was like a much-younger sister to him.

  As Col combed her hair while she sulked, he donned a tired smile.

  “Just like how the bathhouse is reaching its milestone tenth year this spring, you are reaching an important age this year, too, right?”

  “…”

  Myuri did not respond, nor did she turn around.

  Instead, the fluffy tail and alert ears she inherited from her mother rustled slightly.

  “All your barbarism comes to an end now. From now on, you will be counted among the other adult women.”

  Once she reached the age of ten, she would soon have to start thinking about who she would marry, even if she was not a noble daughter. Even the most rambunctious of girls who ran through the wilderness waving sticks in their hands would have to learn cooking, embroidery, the order of chores, and how to care for a household.

  Myuri and Col were in a separate room getting ready for Myuri’s celebratory debut as an adult. If her neighborhood boy playmates saw the clothes she was wearing now, they would fall on the floor laughing or stare at her in shock.

  She wore a floofy skirt with generous amounts of fabric, accessories that crossed her body to keep everything in place with an exasperating number of ties, a coat on her shoulders with a great deal of decorative fabric, as well as a cape to show her chastity—nothing she would ever wear normally.

  They were all high-quality products prepared by one of Lawrence’s old acquaintances for this day, and they were normally things one could never get unless one was the daughter of someone from a massive company or of a noble house.

  But when it came to Myuri, she stuck her tongue out at such a girlie look, completely sick of it, and getting it on her was challenge enough.

  After c
alming her down, coaxing her, intimidating her, then finally somehow getting her to put it on, Col watched as she now wriggled restlessly in the chair, making its legs clatter.

  “Myuri, sit with your legs closed.”

  “…”

  Her legs, which had been crossed underneath her skirt, ostentatiously shut.

  When they told her about this day, Myuri had resisted like a chicken being dragged into the kitchen, but when her mother, Holo, spoke to her, she started listening at least somewhat.

  And they were now at the last step of preparations—caring for her hair.

  As Col carefully brushed Myuri’s hair, she started to restlessly tap her feet again.

  Vexed, Col opened his mouth.

  “Sit still just a little longer.”

  Myuri gave an exaggerated sigh, perhaps because she had resisted so much when putting on her clothes, and said, “Then tell me a fun story.”

  Myuri, who paid no mind to appearances, felt that having her hair brushed was boring and that nothing was more pointless.

  Col prayed that part of her would change slowly and then compromised with the energetic girl for the moment.

  “Then—”

  “No lectures, okay?”

  His plan to tell Myuri about God’s teachings while he had her crumbled.

  But if he put her in a worse mood than she already was, her entire debut would be for nothing.

  “Very well. In that case…”

  As Col searched for a topic, Myuri peered back over her shoulder to speak.

  “Hey, what about when you came to the village?”

  “When I came to the village?”

  “I’ve heard stories of you and Mother and Father and your big adventure tons of times, but I realized I never heard much of what happened after,” Myuri said, and there was something causing her unrest, since she had grabbed her skirt and was flapping it around. “This house didn’t exist before you came, right? That’s really weird when I think about it.”

  That made sense.

  And downstairs was surely blooming with stories of the past.

  “This house, let’s see…Mr. Lawrence saved up plenty of money, then Miss Holo found the water vein, and that’s when they built the house.”

  “Was I there?”

  There was no back on the chair, so she spoke while leaning against Col.

  “Myuri, I can’t braid your hair…No, you weren’t there yet.”

  He gently pushed her away, and she smiled ticklishly and wriggled about.

  “For the first two years…Or no, maybe it was three years…I don’t remember very well, but we spent a while making preparations to build the bathhouse first.”

  “Like digging holes?”

  For some reason, small children liked to dig holes everywhere.

  “That’s right. We dug holes for the support beams, drains to get the spring water coming through…I grew a little stronger from doing that.”

  “You don’t look it, though.”

  It was even more painful, since she did not look like she was teasing him.

  Col gave a vague smile before continuing.

  “I even laid stones for the floor. And I directed so many craftsmen…Oh, I remember now. Every day was so dizzyingly busy.”

  Col played back the memories that had been buried in the motions of daily life, closing his eyes and smiling at how things were back then.

  Myuri started swaying in discontent, thinking that she had been left behind.

  “And then? What happened after that, Brother?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. After that, when the bathhouse was mostly finished, we invited a lot of people over and celebrated its opening. You know the sign hanging from the eaves, yes? That sign was still there back then.”

  “Wooow. Hey, was I there?”

  It seemed that Myuri was curious about when her entrance might be, perhaps because he was talking about a time she did not know about.

  “Back then…? Ah, I suppose I could say you were there; you were still in Miss Holo’s tummy.”

  “Huh?”

  “You were given the name Myuri at the celebration of the completion of the bathhouse.”

  When he said that, Myuri’s ears stood straight up.

  “Really?!”

  She whirled around with such vigor, the hair Col had been partitioning out to braid slipped from his hands.

  He silently made her sit facing forward again before speaking.

  “Yes. That is the name of one of Miss Holo’s very old friends, as well as the name of Mr. Luward’s mercenary company, which supported Mr. Lawrence on his travels. I remember the decision came quite easily.”

  “Huh. Wow…Eh-heh-heh.”

  Myuri was extremely happy to know the moment she was given her name. Her fluffy tail, peeking out from her skirt, was swaying back and forth.

  “And then, and then? When was I born?”

  “You were born…in winter that year. Oh yes…that’s right…”

  “Hmm?”

  Col faltered in his words and his braiding hands stopped; Myuri looked back at him dubiously.

  What he saw behind his closed eyes were his memories of working in such a lively house.

  “Hey, Brother, what’s wrong?”

  She grabbed his hand and shook him, and Col came back to reality.

  When he recalled what it was like at the time, the fretfulness he had felt then came back to life in his chest.

  The very source of that feeling, Myuri, was looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

  “…I don’t think I will ever forget the few years after you were born.”

  “What? Ha-ha, really?”

  Myuri showed a somewhat happy, somewhat bashful response.

  Her birth certainly had been a joyous thing, and the bathhouse became even more splendid because of it.

  Well, maybe splendid was too much of a roundabout way of putting it. If he was to choose a more accurate way of saying it, on fire was probably more accurate.

  Myuri, who of course would never find out what it was like back then, looked at Col in pure happiness.

  “Hey, Brother. What was I like when I was a baby? Mother told me that you looked after me.”

  “Huh? Er…Well, yes, I did. Mr. Lawrence and Miss Holo had their hands full making sure the bathhouse ran smoothly, after all.”

  “But no matter how much I try to, I don’t really remember much about back then…”

  Myuri spoke with some disappointment.

  She was always asking Col to play with her but was always turned down, and she ended up getting a scolding whenever she stuck her nose in things, so her response made sense, since it sounded like Col was actually playing with her for once, but she could not remember.

  “What I remember is…like, this is weird, but just being trapped in a net. Or did I dream that?”

  She tilted her head, and she seemed truly innocent. Now, with her beautiful clothes, brushed hair, and a bit of makeup, he could call her adorable without exaggeration.

  She was slender to begin with, and her face was an exact double of Holo’s.

  As she was now, she was a girl he could marry off without any embarrassment, but Col knew what she was like on the inside, so he simply gave a tired smile.

  “It is not a dream.”

  “It isn’t?”

  Myuri asked back innocently, and Col, after an itchy feeling overcame him, responded.

  “You were overflowing with energy…We had no idea what to do with you, so we put you in a net and hung it from the ceiling.”

  “Huh…huh? What?!”

  Myuri’s ears stood straight up and she pursed her lips.

  “What the heck?! Why are you so mean, Brother?!”

  “I am not mean. Oh, just remembering what it was like back then still makes my heart hurt…”

  When she would only ever cry during her breastfeeding, Holo took care of her most of the time. Col watched after her when Holo’s and Lawrence’s hands were no
t enough, but baby Myuri was nothing but adorable.

  If there was any hardship that he could probably regard as such at that time, it was that she had inherited ears and a tail from Holo, and since she could not easily hide them, since she was a baby, they simply had to keep her from sight.

  But once she learned how to move around on her own and stand on her own two feet, that was where the cuteness stopped.

  “That was your rampaging stage. You grabbed on to everything, threw everything, hit everything; you would vanish the moment we looked away, and we all went pale as we searched everywhere for you, only to find you happily snoozing in some completely unexpected place.”

  “…”

  When presented with acts of barbarism she did not remember, Myuri looked away, as though it had nothing to do with her.

  “But when you were in your crib…you were plenty adorable. Like a puppy caught in a trap.”

  Col seemed defeated into only laughing, and Myuri turned around to look at him, somewhat fidgety.

  “Really?”

  “You were so small then; your tail was as big as you were. It was so sweet seeing you curled up in your net, clinging to your fluffy tail and squirming about. Mr. Lawrence was always watching you in fascination, so Miss Holo scolded him. Now that I think about it, you stopped biting your tail at some point, didn’t you?”

  Myuri at the time had a habit of biting, perhaps because she always wanted something in her mouth, so her tail was often damp with spit.

  Myuri’s shoulders tensed and her face went red, perhaps because that was an embarrassing memory for her.

  “I—I don’t do that. I’m not a baby anymore.”

  “You’re right. You’ve grown.”

  Ten years had passed since then. He had scolded her, and she had surprised him and made him laugh countless times. And the moment for this girl to debut as a grown woman had finally come. When he thought about how she might stop buzzing around him, always calling his name, he got a little sad.

  Col mocked himself—with the way she was acting now, there was no need to worry about her being married off.

  “Come now—I am almost finished braiding your hair. Face forward.”

  There was a strange coolness to Myuri’s hair, and it scattered all over the place when he brushed it with his fingers.

 

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