Pandæmonium’s Pinky Menou opened her eyes in a dream. The first thing she saw was a somewhat dirty floor, the wax worn off here and there. Lifting her head to better discern where she was, she saw rows of identical desks and chairs uniformly spaced in front of a lectern. Menou’s mind was foggy, like she’d just woken up, as she looked around. She was in a classroom in Japan. Menou had never been here before, and yet there was something familiar, even nostalgic, about the imagined place. There were no students anywhere in the classroom. Menou sat alone in the center, clad in her priestess robes. She looked and felt very out of place in the Japanese classroom. And she wasn’t even a priestess anymore. Clearly, some part of her was having a hard time letting go. Menou shook her head ruefully as she touched the fabric of the robes. Turning her gaze forward, she saw that someone was standing in front of the chalkboard. As soon as she laid eyes on the person standing at the teacher’s platform, Menou was even more confident that this was a dream. It was a tall woman with short hair the dark color of blood. She, too, was clad in priestess robes, and she was glaring at Menou. “Yeah, you’re dreaming, all right.” Had she read Menou’s mind, or was she a manifestation of Menou’s innermost thoughts? The woman at the podium, Master Flare, was evidently aware that this was a dream. “Just so you know, this version of me you see isn’t a piece of the real Master Flare or any such nonsense. There’s no way my soul got mixed up with yours, either, since I never let your Guiding Force touch it. This vision is just an illusion created by your subconscious.” “Right.” This was far from the first time Master Flare had appeared in Menou’s dreams. In Menou’s less than twenty years of life, Master Flare was the person she had most respected, looked up to, relied upon, clung to, and feared, even when Menou challenged her in battle and ultimately claimed her life. Master Flare had vanished from this world. The figure talking to her now was Menou’s desire given shape. And since Master Flare was always pragmatic, this version still threw harsh reality at her pupil. “Menou. Why do you think I still show up in your dreams?” “Because you’re very important to—” “Nope.” A conversation within a dream was mere soliloquy. Menou’s subconscious was using the figure of Master Flare to assess her situation from a neutral perspective. “It’s because you killed me after Akari Tokitou’s consciousness disappeared.” As the two spoke, people returned to the classroom one by one. They all wore different school uniforms. Menou recognized their faces, yet she didn’t know a single one of their names. They were all young men and women Menou had slain before ever learning that basic quality about them. “Unlike all the murders surrounding you right now, the fact that you killed me is yours alone to carry. It’s your sin and no one else’s. Not even Akari Tokitou knows.” Master Flare, who should be resting in eternal slumber in a graveyard at the western edge of the continent, pointed out the weakness in Menou’s heart. “Your sins are supposed to be yours to bear alone. That’s not unique to you, either. The only person who can forgive one’s sins is themselves. In the end, such transgressions are no one else’s problems but your own.” Menou’s sins. She’d fought taboos and disposed of them. As an Executioner, she carried out her duty to kill innocent Japanese people who came from another world. Her actions were unfair, but not unnecessary. In truth, the powers of Otherworlders were dangerous, and if they became Human Errors, they could easily destroy whole towns. There was a clear meaning behind the Executioners’ responsibilities. “And your point is?” Menou asked. Master Flare was right—these were all excuses. Menou’s actions were ultimately unforgivable. “When you carry the burden of having killed, there’s nothing you can do to atone. Lives that have been taken can never be returned, as obvious as that sounds. That’s why I taught you that we murderers are villains—at least, I tried.” Master Flare had never been able to feel guilty about anything. She had been the perfect Executioner. Whether she killed innocent people, her friend, or her apprentice, she was unable to feel remorse. At the same time, she’d despaired over her emotionlessness. Master Flare had not feared death, and when she died without ever being punished for her crimes, she left behind a final message that lingered like a last request, or perhaps a curse. “Now…it’s your turn…” “You made yourself one with Akari Tokitou.” In the far west, before Menou crossed blades with her master in the land of salt, she connected her Guiding Force to that of her best friend, Akari. At the time, it was Menou’s natural aptitude as a conjurer that allowed for this normally impossible connection. “Normally, people can’t unite like that. But you and Akari Tokitou have the unusual power to join the three components of life—body, soul, and spirit—with a Guiding Force connection, temporarily making you the same human being in a sense. You were able to share your sins. For better or worse. Connecting your spirit to someone else’s, having a mutual sympathy between souls…the feeling that you’re not alone must have been really satisfying.” It had, in fact, been a moment of awakening for Menou, one of rebirth. “How’s it feel to have had all that and lost it?” Menou’s thoughts in the shape of Master Flare struck right where it hurt, the hole in her heart that missed its other half. “The satisfaction you gained was only temporary. I guess it might’ve been different if Akari Tokitou was with you, but you left her with Momo. You never learn, apparently. Did you really think you could do anything alone?” “I have to forge my own path. In these past six months, I’ve acquired tools for defeating Hakua and saving Akari.” Hakua Shirakami was the Lord of the Faust, and the strongest Otherworlder of all time. She was a singularly dangerous individual who’d nursed a dark obsession to return to her world with Akari for a thousand years. Menou had been working with Ashuna for the past half a year to build up Grisarika Kingdom as an opposing force to help fight Hakua. Now armed with that powerful ally, Menou had come to the north to seek the power known as the Starhusk. This had to be the right path. Fighting Hakua meant taking on the entire Faust and more. It would take a lot to deal with Hakua’s impossibly strong abilities. However, Menou acknowledged that by seeking allies, she’d also involved far too many people in this conflict. “And what’s going to happen if you continue as you are? Long ago, you walked behind me. And even that way of life was too hard for you. You don’t have Akari Tokitou to share your life with or Momo to dump all your problems on. Do you really think you can keep moving forward all by yourself?” “I can, and I will. My goal is in sight.” “Idiot.” The woman with the dark red hair threw back her head and laughed. “If you continue on the route where I died, you’ll only know new agony.” Menou looked up and saw that every seat in the classroom was full. These people were lost ones from Japan, a place in another world. She looked around the classroom again. Unlike the recurring dreams she used to have, Akari wasn’t in this one. Menou was surrounded by her sins with no one to forgive her. There was no warmth in this classroom anymore. Without a word, the people around her began to melt away. They became a sticky black liquid that filled the classroom, creeping up to submerge Menou. “Seeking more power never led to anything good.” Those were the last words Menou heard before she gave in to the sensation of drowning. Knowing that this wouldn’t atone for her crimes, that there was no way to make amends, she still let the vestiges of her victims twine around her and drag her down. If suffering through hell meant that she could see her best friend’s smile again on the other side, she was fine with that. And so, Menou curled up in the dark, ready to embrace her punishment. The sensation of her soul falling signaled Menou to wake up. Her body spasmed as she jolted awake. It was like missing a step going down the stairs. Roused distressingly, Menou looked out the window without sitting up. The peek of sky through the curtains was still dark. It was barely morning, with the sun yet to show its face. “…Ugh.” Menou sighed and tugged at the fabric of her shirt. Thanks to the nightmare, she was soaked with sweat. Her nightclothes clung to her skin unpleasantly. “I need to take a shower…” Menou dragged herself out of bed. She was in a house on the outskirts of the town they’d arrived in the day before. This was one of the hideouts they’d prepared throughout the continent, inherited from the Director, who originally formed the Fourth. For some reason, he was assisting Ashuna in Grisarika Kingdom. Menou removed her clothes and stepped into the bathroom, the coolness of the tile floor sending a chill through the soles of her feet and up her spine. She shivered; her bare skin prickled. Once she turned the tap, a hot shower rained warmth on Menou’s face. As she closed her eyes and felt the flowing water, the droplets against her skin outlined her shape. Water slid down her neck and across her rounded shoulders, moving from her shapely chest to the curve of her hips, down the perfect line of her thighs to her feet, and into the drain. Menou relaxed, letting the water rinse away her sweat and, more importantly, her physical and mental exhaustion. “…Y’know, you really do have a great body, Menou.” The words of her dear friend suddenly echoed in her mind. It was a fragment from a time that had been repeated over and over. The rest of the memory played out in Menou’s mind. It was a conversation they’d had while enjoying a public bath in the port city of Libelle, at the southernmost tip of the continent. “Stop ogling me. You wouldn’t like it if someone told you ‘You’ve got a great rack’ or something, would you?” “Hmph. I don’t mind if it’s you, Menou!” “Now! Please describe your opinion of my body in two hundred words or less!” “How stupid are you?” “Very!” At the time, Menou had thought it was all part of an act. She’d convinced herself she was playing along, rolling her eyes at Akari’s thoughtless babbling, smiling and laughing together without a care. Only now did Menou realize how precious those warm moments had been. And here she was, wallowing in those bittersweet memories even though Akari was no longer at her side. “……” Menou wiped the steamed-up mirror clear with her palm. The uncovered surface reflected her exposed body. Without clothes or weapons, her naked self looked slim, fragile, and terribly helpless. Droplets of water slid from Menou’s reflected eyes. She chuckled sardonically. “I always fall to pieces when I’m on my own…” Why was she still like this, even after fighting her own parental figure to the death and emerging victorious? Though some called her Flarette, Menou could never be a true successor to someone as unshakeable as Master Flare. No matter how much she washed or scrubbed, Menou was stained with sin. Without her dear friend Akari, her heart lost its way quickly. Without her assistant, Momo, who Menou depended on more than anyone else, she couldn’t manage to put on a brave face. There would be no more turning back time. By defeating Master Flare, the biggest obstacle that had claimed Menou’s life countless times, she’d finally escaped the three-month loop. Menou had learned of Akari’s devotion, finally joined hands with her, and made her very first best friend. Yet after the two of them overcame so much together, the “self” that Menou encountered on the other side brought nothing but despair. It turned out that Menou was really an artificial being, a reproduction of Hakua Shirakami, an Otherworlder who came to this world a thousand years ago. This didn’t particularly bother Menou, but how would the people she’d killed feel about this information? She had no parents and no hometown. She was nothing but a lie. Yet despite being only an imitation of a human, she had taken lives. Now that Menou was no longer an Executioner, she couldn’t hide behind the grand cause of safeguarding the world. Menou saw the memories every time she closed her eyes. The faces of innocent victims in utter disbelief, too surprised to understand what was happening, crying that they’d been betrayed as they died. Her old self might’ve been crushed under the weight of that guilt. However, Menou had someone she needed to see again, and that kept her going despite the despair and resentment of the dead.
Chapter 106
12 min read