“UM, I’ll do my very best, so I’d really appreciate it if you don’t abandon me…”
“Same, same, same.”
Corinne was shocked to see a forlorn Haruka reach out to her unsteadily. As for Montana, he kept nodding, seemingly for no reason at all. That was when she finally realized that everyone except for her was completely drunk. But the realization came too late. She had never imagined that the two calmest members of their party would get so wasted.
“Okay, okay, I won’t abandon you! I won’t! Neither of you! All right you two, that’s enough booze for today! You too, Montana. Darn it, Haruka, pull yourself together!”
Corinne quickly realized that any further attempts at conversation would be pointless considering their inebriation, so she stood up quickly and started cleaning up. While Haruka followed her unsteadily, like the undead, Corinne nudged Albert to wake up where he was lying comfortably on the floor.
“Hey, go back to your room if you’re gonna sleep.”
“Huuuh… You’re so…loud… Ugggh, I think I’m gonna hurl…”
Albert woke up, his face pale, and immediately dashed off, disappearing somewhere. Well, no help from him, I guess. Corinne finished clearing the table and looked up again, this time to find Montana sleeping soundly, practically melted into the table.
“Oh, come on! Haruka, can you carry Mon, please?”
“Undershtood,” Haruka slurred. “I shall do my best.”
Haruka picked Montana up and followed Corinne like a duckling. She was still completely sloshed, but a little better than the other two at not collapsing or falling asleep.
“Corinne, do you think I’m useful?” Haruka asked. “I’m not getting in the way, am I?”
“Yes, you are, and no, you aren’t. Thank you, thank you!”
Haruka trailed after Corinne, drinking in her flippant reply.
Corinne decided right then and there that starting tomorrow, her party members weren’t allowed to drink. But to be honest, she did find Haruka’s childlike behavior even more endearing than usual, so she would miss seeing this side of her again.
✦ ✦ ✦
Part 3: Preparations
THE next morning, when I woke up refreshed and with full memory of what had happened the previous night, I clutched my head in despair. I wished I could erase my drunken memories, but I could recall every detail with painful clarity. In that moment, I resented my brain for having such good memory. The image of Corinne’s exasperated expression as she took care of me flashed vividly through my mind, and I rolled around on my bed, hugging my pillow.
I’m so sorry. Here I was, some old guy causing trouble for a girl young enough to be my daughter. I wanted to die of embarrassment. No more drinking starting today. I definitely didn’t want to disgrace myself like that ever again.
After rolling around for a while, I finally got up, and then I paid more attention to my appearance than usual before joining up with the others, in an attempt to look as sober as possible. I crossed my fingers that they wouldn’t mention what had happened the night before. This was how adults got through life. I was very sorry for what I’d done, and I prayed Corinne would let me off the hook this one time.
✦ ✦ ✦
WHILE I was having breakfast in the dining hall, Albert trudged in like he had weights tied to his legs. He held his head in his hands. Poor thing must have had one hell of a hangover.
“Al, drink less from now on,” Corinne warned, standing up. “Got it?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he replied with a bitter expression. “Keep it down, will you?”
“And what is that supposed to mean?!”
“For the love of! Stop it, I’m sorry, please stop, my head is killing me.”
Albert did look weaker than usual as he miserably tossed himself into a chair mid-apology. At the sad sight, Corinne lost her will to criticize him further. She sighed and sat down again. Can magic cure hangovers? I wondered.
“At this rate, our discussion about the future might have to wait until tonight.”
“Hm, yes, I think we should let him rest a bit.”
“Then why don’t we go shopping today? I’d love to find the equipment we’ll need for camping.”
“Good idea. I don’t know much about any of that, so I’ll follow your lead.”
I stood up, ready to leave an exhausted Albert behind in the canteen. Rest up, kiddo.
Meanwhile, Montana, who had been quietly chipping away at another stone, glanced over at us before resuming his work. He seemed to have decided our little chat had nothing to do with him.
“Come on, Montana,” Corinne said. “You know the most about traveling, so you’re coming too.”
“Oh. I am?”
I was usually the only one Corinne dragged around like this, so Montana must have assumed he’d be holding down the proverbial fort. He hurriedly tossed his tools and the stone into his sleeves and stood up.
“I’m going back to bed,” Albert groaned.
“Enjoy your rest.”
He didn’t have the energy to respond to me, he just plodded away out of the dining hall. Clearly, his first hangover was taking a toll on him.
✦ ✦ ✦
I surveyed the compact collection of kitchen tools. Corinne was the best cook among us, which made me and Montana mere accessories for this particular excursion.
I walked around the store and picked up a deep-bottomed frying pan that looked especially sturdy. It didn’t look like it would wear out even after using it for a while, and it could probably handle a vigorous scrubbing too, meaning it shouldn’t be difficult to maintain. If I tied it to a backpack, it would be easy to carry. This body of mine was extraordinarily strong, so the frying pan’s weight wouldn’t put me at any disadvantage. The handle was solid too.
“Whoa, Haruka, are you really planning to buy something that looks like a bludgeon?”
“It does look pretty sturdy, doesn’t it?” I agreed. “Would certainly come in handy as a weapon in an emergency.”
I jokingly waved it around in response to Corinne’s surprised voice, and a whoosh reverberated through the store. When a clerk rushed over to see what was going on, I bowed my head and apologized.
“You could have killed someone just now,” Corinne commented.
“No, there’s no way…” I couldn’t help protesting, but I had a feeling she was right, so it was a weak denial at best.
I turned around to see Montana looking at the knives, poking them with his fingertips and holding them up to the light as he examined them. It was rare to see him inspecting items so carefully on a shopping trip. He usually just stood outside the shops, daydreaming. That said, his care and skill in handling the knives was obvious.
“Do you like edged tools, Montana?” It sounded like I was accusing him of being a dangerous person, and I regretted the words the second they left my mouth, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“My father is a blacksmith,” he said simply. He put the knife back in its place and turned to face us. “So I like looking at knives made by other people.”
“Oooh, so you can smith too, Montana?” Corinne asked.
Now that I thought about it, he had said he’d been raised by dwarves. Dwarves were well known for being blacksmiths. Plus, they were dexterous, strong, and resistant to fire.
Montana was the son of a dwarf, but his therianthrope features marked him as a foundling. He hadn’t seemed bothered by his adoption when he’d told us about it before, but I still had to wonder if that was really the case. I observed him quietly. Surprisingly, judging by the wag of his tail, he seemed happy.
“Yes.”
At sixteen years old, he was a blacksmith, a jeweler, a warrior, and could even act as a scout. What a talented young man. All three of my friends possessed talents far beyond what I’d expect from children. But perhaps that was normal in this world where they reached adulthood much earlier than the countries on Earth.
“Does that mean you’ll take over your family’s smithy someday?”
“Hm… No.”
He hesitated when he gave that answer, a stark contrast to his earlier enthusiastic response. Then he elaborated: “I’m good at making accessories, and I’m currently an adventurer. Even though one of my goals is to find the person who gave birth to me, I think it would be fun to continue being an adventurer after that, so I’ll get to fight things I’ve never seen before and meet interesting people.”
“Ohmigosh, Mon, you’re talking so much…!” Sounding moved, Corinne patted him on the head like he was a good little puppy.
He pushed her hand away with a slight grimace. He often let me stroke him on the head, but maybe he was uncomfortable being pet by someone younger than him.