I mean, I guess I might as well give it a try.
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I hadn’t left my house at all since I’d been accidentally aged up, and this seemed like a good chance to get out a little. Seeing as I could pretend to be someone totally different, I didn’t see any harm in just going with the flow for now.
“I guess, sure. I’ll try it at least once,” I said.
“All right!” exclaimed Eno. “In that case, you’d better get ready! We’re meeting up this afternoon!”
“Not wasting any time, are you?!”
“I was actually stopping by your place on the way to the gathering, really. The venue’s relatively close to here.”
I guess when you go somewhere for a meetup, it only makes sense to get any tasks you’ve been meaning to do in the area done while you’re there.
I stood up.
“Hrmmmph!”
Gah! I made one of those noises again…
✦ ✦ ✦
Eno and I set off on the wyvern she’d taken to my place, and it wasn’t long before we arrived at the venue for the witches’ gathering. By the time we showed up, it was already packed with witches. I could tell in part because, as expected, the ratio of people wearing robes was weirdly high compared to a more typical social event. That isn’t to say, however, that there being a bunch of witches around made the place feel creepy or uncanny.
“Oh, I get it now. Witches are immortal sometimes, so of course a bunch of us would look perpetually young,” I said to myself. At a glance, the average age of the gathering’s participants seemed to be somewhere in the mid-twenties.
“You’re not wrong about that,” said Eno. “It doesn’t feel like a big old folks’ meeting at all, does it?”
That said, the attendees weren’t universally young. Some of them looked like they were in their nineties, and I had to wonder if they’d made themselves appear that way deliberately as a sales tactic.
“The veterans take on forms like that since it makes them seem tougher. They make themselves look old on purpose,” Eno explained, partially confirming my suspicion.
“That makes sense. I get where they’re coming from,” I replied.
Sometimes, you have no choice but to put on a strong front.
There was, however, just one thing I felt the need to complain to Eno about. I tugged on her sleeve. “Hey, Eno. Could you look over there for a second?”
I gestured toward a group of four seemingly young witches.
“So how’d the harvest moon the other day turn out for you girls?” “It was exhausting! I mean, this is already the busiest time of the year for me, even without that overlap!” “These things always seem to line up with each other somehow, don’t they?” “Sounds to me like you could use a drink or three!” “Oh, I’m down for that. I know a cheap joint nearby that serves some pretty nice herbal liquor!”
They’re so lively!
That wasn’t even the only group of witches engaged in that spirited chatter. I picked out a couple of witches off to the side saying something along the lines of “I was thinking of burning a tortoise shell on the beach to fortune-tell with sometime soon. And throwing a whole barbecue while I’m at it. You in?” “Oh, you know it!”
“I thought this was going to be a gloomy event, not this! This is like a totally normal industry meetup! Everyone’s so happy and cheerful!”
I mean, come on, a barbecue on the beach? That’s just a straight-up beach party you’re describing, not witch business!
“Ugh,” Eno grunted. “N-no, I don’t think it’s as unbalanced as you’re making it sound… Th-this is a totally ordinary number of cheerful businesspeople, trust me… Anyway, there’s a guest book over there, so we should go write our names down…”
I’d only come along because she’d specifically told me there wouldn’t be that many overly cheery extroverts, and what did I get? The uncomfortable, extroverted atmosphere of my worst nightmares made a reality.
✦ ✦ ✦
Why do social events always seem to turn out this way?!
✦ ✦ ✦
Events like this were really rough for people who were less than sociable. We were all witches, but that shared profession wasn’t making me feel any connection with the people around me at all…
“Don’t worry, though. You’ll barely have to talk at all to get through this gathering. That, I can guarantee!” said Eno.
“I won’t have to talk? Huh?”
I didn’t understand what she meant by that, but in any case, I signed in at the guest book, writing my name as “Azu Liliri.” I figured a name I came up with on the spot would work as well as any, and I’d used “Liliri” as a fake name in the past, as well.
Come to think of it, that was back when I first met Eno, wasn’t it? I couldn’t go around claiming to be Azusa when an imposter was using my name, so I just made something up. Then there was the time I claimed to be a dragon named Azuzard, too. I’ve used fake names weirdly often, haven’t I?
✦ ✦ ✦
“Have you finished signing in? Here you are, then!” the witch on receptionist duty said as she handed me a wooden hammer. Eno received one as well just a moment later.
“Huh? Eno, what’s this about…?” I asked.
Why a hammer? Are they doing that thing they do at ceremonies in Japan where you break open a barrel of sake? I didn’t think that was a very widespread custom, and even if I’m wrong about that, it seems weird to have some random first-timer be one of the ones with a hammer! I thought that was exclusively for bigwigs in the business world, or something.
✦ ✦ ✦
“There’s going to be a croc-whacking event this time! This gather’s more about moving around than talking!”
✦ ✦ ✦
“I’m sorry, ‘croc-whacking’? Whatever that is, I’ve never heard of it,” I said. I’d resolved some trouble involving a crocodile that had taken up residence in a shrine’s pond before—maybe this was something similar?
“Oh, this is perfect! It looks like someone’s about to explain the rules,” said Eno. She was right—a witch wearing a formal coat that made her look like the event’s host had just floated up into the air to address everyone.
“Hello, witches all and sundry! Thank you very much for taking the time to attend today’s social gathering. This will mark gathering number seven thousand eight hundred and sixty, which makes it particularly auspicious!”
When you’re counting in the thousands, you can’t say that an event’s auspicious just because it falls on an even ten! Though I guess people did that back in my past life, too—like how people would say stuff like “This year marks the two hundred and sixtieth anniversary of this painter’s birth,” or whatever. I always ended up wondering if two hundred and sixty was really all that significant of a number.
“This time, we’ll be holding a croc-whacking event,” the host-like witch continued.
A stir passed through the crowd, and I heard a few witches mutter comments along the lines of “I’ve been waiting for this!” Apparently, it was a pretty well-known activity.
“The rules are simple. You’ll all split up into teams of two and use your hammers to whack as many crocodiles as you possibly can within a time limit.”
Okay, but there can’t possibly be that many crocodiles around here in the first place, right? I thought, just moments before a reptilian cluster appeared out of nowhere, right by our feet.
“Okay, I stand corrected! That’s a lot of them, all right!”
I was a little surprised for a moment, but at a second glance, they were obviously just illusions. They didn’t have a real sense of physical presence at all, and they looked more like cartoony crocodile characters than the actual, real-life animals. That meant they weren’t scary in the way real crocodiles were, either.
“These illusory crocodiles will disappear when you hit them with your hammer, and you’ll earn points for every crocodile you hit. Finally, the highest-scoring group will win a fabulous prize! Now then—it’s time to divide up into groups! Give it your best shot!”
Okay, I get it now.
✦ ✦ ✦
This is basically just a large-scale version of whack-a-mole!