It seemed as dubious as ever, but it was still fascinating to hear the logic behind Tsuji’s magic.
“But isn’t what you’re doing kind of violent? You’re invoking the names of angels, but it’s essentially just trying to scare things and chase them out,” Runa said, not seeming very amused.
“Right! That’s exactly it. I was trying to see what’d scare something that didn’t scare easily. The LBRP is powerful because it’s a who’s who of tough guy names from the Old Testament. It’s like, ‘What school’re you from? We’re from Kabbalah Middle School, and we’ve got lotsa scary senpai, so get lost, ya nasties.’”
“Is that sort of magic based in your religious beliefs?” Toriko asked, but Tsuji shook her head.
“Nah, not at all. Like most Japanese people, I’m not particularly religious, but practice elements of both Buddhism and Shinto in my everyday life. This sort of practical faith is something the concept of ‘religion’ which assumes a monotheistic faith can’t encapsulate, so Japanese people may think of themselves as irreligious, while at the same time people from overseas see us as believing ‘a religion called Buddhism.’ It causes misunderstanding on both sides.”
I thought the alcohol wasn’t affecting her, but maybe she’s a talkative drunk.
“Regardless, you’ve gotta question why even a Japanese person like me who doesn’t believe in the faith would be able to use the LBRP. I’ll jump straight to the conclusion and say that it’s because Kabbalistic magic is a very convenient library to draw from. The evocative power of the images is sufficient, they are also powerful even against other domains, and stable on top of that. It’s what an IT Engineer might call ‘mature technology.’ That ritual, the LBRP, was created by a society of magicians called the Golden Dawn in nineteenth-century England. But while their magic was based on the Kabbalah, they were also heavily influenced by Egyptian mythology, which was experiencing a boom at the time, and even added elements of Greek mythology and the tarot willy-nilly. Talk about a hodgepodge. Modern magic in the west began with the Golden Dawn, and has been used all around the world for its convenience, which has probably severed it from its original religious roots.”
Either because of the alcohol, or because of my full belly, I gradually lost track of what we’d been talking about as I listened to Tsuji speak.
“Y’know, I’ve been frustrated all this time. Thinking about how my renovations were nullified by that stupid laugh.”
Runa’s brow furrowed. Tsuji grinned. “You’ve got more of an artisanal spirit than I’d have expected. It’s a good thing.”
“Oh, shut up. If that hadn’t worked, did you have anything else to use against it?”
Tsuji picked up just one chopstick, and pointed it at Runa before shouting, “Expecto Patronum!”
“Wait, Harry Potter?!” Runa said.
“If I didn’t go with that, a Kamehameha would work too!”
“Are you messing around?”
“I’m messing around, and I’m also serious. You can use any concept that works. Because I am a sister of disorder, a lady of chaos.”
“I have no idea what you’re even talking about!”
The barbecue ended around eight o’clock, and all there was to do after that was sleep. When the speaker was turned off, and the music cut out, the Farm was suddenly quiet. The campfire died down too, and the logs that had turned to charcoal just kept burning slowly.
We used the faucets outside the Factory to wash our cookware and cutlery, and to brush our teeth. We were sweaty, and smelled of smoke, so I’d have liked to use the shower, but Toriko and Runa said it would be a pain to dry our hair afterward, so I took their opinions into account and agreed we would go in the morning.
We said goodnight and went to our own tents. After a whole day surrounded by people, it was a relief to be back to just the two of us. In place of a shower, I used wet wipes to wipe the sweat from my forehead and under my clothes.
“You did good today, Sorawo.”
“You too, Toriko.”
We were whispering. Now that it was time to sleep, it was so quiet you wouldn’t believe all the noise earlier was real. We could occasionally hear movement and people talking with their voices lowered, whether that was from Runa and Tsuji’s tents, or from the Torchlight tents.
“I thought we wouldn’t need our sleeping bags with how hot it was, but I’m glad we brought them along just in case,” said Toriko.
“Yeah, it’s actually cold,” I replied.
“Can we cuddle?” Toriko asked, bringing her face closer, so I held up a hand to stop her.
“We’re in a tent, remember? With the lights on, they can see us as silhouettes from outside.”
“Then hurry up and turn the lights off,” Toriko whispered teasingly.
“...” I did as she said, and the tent went dark. Toriko’s arms wrapped around me in the darkness. She was so close I could feel her breath. Our cheeks brushed together, our lips seeking the other’s. I felt her silky hair in between the fingers I had behind her head.
“Want to hook up our sleeping bags?” I suggested, earning a giggle from Toriko.
“That’d clearly get hot.”
“Clearly.”
“I don’t know if I could keep being a good girl.”
“You dummy, what are you talking about?”
I was surprised at the gentleness in my own voice. I pulled away. Hahh, a yawn escaped. I couldn’t see her, but I could tell that it made Toriko yawn too.
“Good night.”
“Good night, Sorawo.”
Sleeping on top of a thin mat shouldn’t have been comfy, but I was asleep in no time.