“Phyllis… s-stop… aah… mmph…”
“Mia, you’re quite vocal, aren’t you? How does this spot feel?”
“Nngh… Oniisan, please don’t look…”
Let me state this upfront. This isn’t R-18 content.
There’s probably no demand for that sort of thing involving a four-year-old, after all. Mia is currently receiving what Phyllis calls a “massage to expand her magical capacity”.
“N-no…”
“Shall I stop, then?”
“N-no. Please continue. Please keep going…”
I’m not a lolicon. I am absolutely not a lolicon—but I can’t help feeling a strange sensation rising within me. I turned my gaze toward the window, trying to shake off the distracting thoughts.
It’s Friday today. Since tomorrow is a day off, staying up a little late is fine. Mia and I visited Phyllis’s apartment. Of course, we didn’t walk there. We used the gate under the bed.
The visit was originally meant for my check-up, but somehow, things had taken a turn into this yuri-esque situation.
Honestly, what is the world coming to these days?
“Haa…”
I let out a sigh—mimicking the motion of smoking a cigarette—and pondered the future of Japan. The consumption tax had quietly risen to 8%, and the fiscal deficit showed no signs of improvement.
“This is one problem even a hero can’t solve…”
I muttered with a look of profound enlightenment.
Heh. Nailed it.
For good measure, I even gave the room an unnecessary sidelong glance.
That was exactly when it happened. Suddenly, the window flew open.
And then—
“Sorry to barge in!”
Something came flying through it.
A long black coat resembling a military uniform. Beneath it was a red plaid skirt, and before I could even register what I was seeing, a powerful kick slammed straight into me.
“Gwah!?”
Crap! I’d been caught completely off guard and was too slow to activate my defensive magic. The impact sent me flying with a spectacular *CRASH-BANG* worthy of a manga sound effect.
I slammed into the wall. And, damn, it hurts!
Enough already. Get a grip, me.
Just because it was the first time I’d ever been caught off guard like that—even counting my previous life—didn’t mean I should let it completely scramble my thoughts.
“M-Master!? S-s-s-sorry!!!!”
I heard hurried footsteps approaching.
That voice… Shizuku?
When I opened my eyes, sure enough, it was her. The girl was peering down at me with an apologetic expression, a completely unnecessary bandage wrapped from her right eye up across her forehead.
“I was planning to make a cool entrance, but I never imagined I’d actually hurt you, Master… Ah! Please, insult me! Punish me!”
Shizuku was as over-the-top as ever. I really couldn’t keep up with this level of enthusiasm.
Couldn’t someone else take her off my hands?
There had to be a market for the whole Chūnibyō thing, right?
“…Oniisan.”
Before I knew it, Mia was staring at me with an icy expression.
“Who’s that? And what does she mean by ‘Master’?”
There was no smile in her eyes. An aura of bone-chilling intimidation hung in the air.
Come to think of it, I hadn’t actually explained what Shizuku was like to her.
Damn it. What the hell was past-me thinking, putting this problem off for so long? If I could turn back time, I’d punch myself in the face.
“Uhm…”
Shizuku’s eyes darted around the room.
“This girl is wearing the same ring as you, Master.”
I’d once given Mia a toy ring as a present. They were a matching pair with the same design. For some reason, Mia had insisted on wearing hers when we went to visit Phyllis’s apartment.
“I see. The mystery has been completely solved.”
Shizuku spoke in the grandiose manner of some high-school detective famous for casually putting his grandfather’s reputation on the line.
“In other words, she is Master’s wife—his young bride!”
What the heck was that supposed to mean?
I’d never heard such an outrageously bad deduction in my life. All I could do was stare at her blankly.
But then—
“Y-young bride…? Hehe… Ehehe…”
Mia looked, well… actually, she looked really happy.
“C-could you say that one more time?”
“My name is Shizuku Aitori. Please command me as you wish, Young Mistress.”
Shizuku kneels right there on the spot.
Her movements are just like those of a butler from a grand estate.
“O-oh, I see. I look forward to working with you, Shizuku-san.”
“Understood. I shall serve you with the utmost sincerity, Young Mistress.”
“Hau…”
All the murderous aura (and no, that’s not a pun) from moments ago has vanished; Mia has completely melted.
I see—so this is what they call a “pushover” when it comes to romance.
“If Mia-chan is the ‘Young Mistress,’ then what does that make me?”
Phyllis suddenly mutters beside me.
Shizuku thinks for a moment, then replies,
“Perhaps a grandmother who, despite her age, is trying to snag a man to marry into the family?”
“Hey, you little brat—I’m gonna kill you.”
＊ ＊ ＊
“Would you care for some tea, Young Mistress?”
“Thank you, Shizuku-san.”
“And Phyllis-sama, please have some as well.”
“Oh my, how thoughtful of you.”
What’s with this atmosphere?
By playing along with Shizuku’s butler routine, the three girls had somehow created the mood of a bizarre little tea party. I am the only one left out.
One guy and three girls. Well, a harem was just a pipe dream, wasn’t it? In reality, the guy was the odd one out. That was just how things worked.
Damn it.
“By the way, Shizuku, did you properly pass along the information about my disciple?”
Phyllis asked as she munched on a rice cracker.
We were sitting in a tiny four-and-a-half-tatami Japanese-style room. Despite the cozy, lived-in surroundings, everything about Phyllis’s movements remained as graceful as ever.
“Ah, yes. Actually, well…”
Shizuku began to explain.
The organization she belonged to—the so-called Imperial Household Agency, Department of Divinities’ Afffairs—had completely failed to get a handle on the incident. To make matters worse, everyone was busy trying to shift the blame onto someone else, so the investigation had barely made any progress.
The only thing they had managed to confirm was that one of Phyllis’s disciples had kidnapped a young girl. Her name was Ayano Matsuki. Apparently, the incident had taken place last Sunday, while she was out on a family trip.
“Matsuki, huh?”
“Matsuki…”
Phyllis murmured the name as though it carried some deeper significance.
“Could it be ‘that’ Matsuki, by any chance?”
What was she talking about?
I glanced over at Mia, but she merely tilted her head in confusion as well.
Seeing that, Shizuku added an explanation.
“The Matsuki family was involved in the establishment of the Department of Divinities’ Affairs. They aren’t an exorcist family, but—”
“They’re an important sponsor who has continued to provide considerable financial support, aren’t they?”
Phyllis picked up where she left off.
“And yet, the daughter of such a generous family has been kidnapped, and the Department of Divinities’ Affairs is still busy squabbling among themselves?”
“Yes. I’m afraid so….”
Shizuku lowered her head apologetically.
“They’re more concerned with fighting among themselves than conducting an investigation. That’s the unfortunate state of affairs in this country right now.”
What a mess.
Sure, a bunch of important people had died all at once, but they’d really gone completely off the rails.
No, wait…. could someone be deliberately stirring up all this chaos behind the scenes?
Well, there was far too little information to say for sure. It’s only speculation.
“However, there is at least one faction that is actively working toward resolving the situation.”
That should have been good news. And yet Shizuku wore an extremely bitter expression.
“It’s a letter from Yujiro Kijima-sama, head of the Kijima family…”
She pulled a thick white envelope from her pocket and presented it to Phyllis with an especially reverent gesture.
“A request for my cooperation, perhaps? Well, depending on the contents, I suppose I wouldn’t be entirely opposed to considering it—”
Froze. Phyllis’s expression stiffened the moment she began reading the document.
It must have contained something truly awful.
“Hey, Shizuku.”
“Y-yes?”
“…The Japanese is too difficult. I can’t read this.”
Ah. Well, I suppose that made sense. Phyllis spoke Japanese fluently, but she was obviously foreign-born. And bureaucratic documents had a bizarre language all their own. It was only natural that she’d have trouble understanding one.
Wait.
What the hell is this?
> The realm of Hinomoto is now divided, and the people languish in hardship. Truly, this is a time of grave peril, when the fate of the nation hangs in the balance.
> Nevertheless, we shall not neglect our duties, but instead devote ourselves to bearing the burden of concern for our country.
The letter continued in this pseudo-classical Japanese style, as though someone had taken a Chinese-style classical text and rewritten it into Japanese.
The overall impression was like a Chūnibyō who had awakened to the allure of traditional Japanese aesthetics. Every now and then, modern expressions were mixed in, making the whole thing feel horribly disjointed.
“Did you write this, Shizuku?”
“N-no! Kijima-sama is just… uhm, rather fond of the past, you could say. His sensibilities have, uhm, regressed a few generations…”
I see. So Yujiro Kijima is apparently a different variety of “that kind” of person altogether.
“Isn’t there an English translation or something?”
This was a document addressed to Phyllis, after all. You’d think they’d at least write it in another language so the recipient could actually read it.
But—
“Lord Kijima said, [This is Japan. If you can’t read Japanese, then you can die.]”
Yikes. I was beginning to get a seriously bad feeling about this.
When I heard there was a faction actively working to resolve the situation, I had thought, “Thank goodness. At least there are some reasonable exorcists out there.”
But… hmm. I had a feeling this was only going to make things even more complicated.
“A-anyway, I’ll summarize the contents and explain them to you.”
What Shizuku told us was, well, pretty awful.
In short:
—All Western mages are agents of demons. Therefore, Phyllis and her disciples will be killed.
—However, if Phyllis hands over all of her research and findings to the Kijima family, they might be willing to let her live.
—A master is responsible for the misconduct of their disciple. If Phyllis refuses these terms, she will be deemed no better than a beast and eliminated immediately.
It was an unbelievably idiotic declaration of war. If it had at least been, “A master is responsible for the misconduct of their disciple—therefore, you will cooperate with us”, I could have understood the logic. But starting off with a death threat was a bit much.
Ah. I get it.
They were trying to intimidate her right out of the gate, figuring they could scare her into doing what they wanted. Pretty much the same tactic a yakuza thug would use.
And demanding her research, too? What did that have to do with the incident?
They obviously wanted to get one over on the other factions.
That much was painfully obvious.
“That’s such a worthless ultimatum, I almost want to put it on display in a museum.”
Phyllis shrugged in exasperation.
“Poor Shizuku. You must have had a hard time being made to deliver a bizarre letter like this. Here, would you like a rice cracker?”
For some reason, she reached into the nearby snack box and pulled out an Onigiri Senbei.
“Oh, sure.”
Crunch, crunch.
The oddly mundane sound echoed through the room.
And then—
“—WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, AITORI!?”
BANG! The locked front door was kicked clean off its hinges, and a large man barged inside.
Honestly, between Shizuku and this guy, was dramatically barging into people’s homes without knocking some kind of new trend among exorcists?
“This is what you get from the people of the Aitori family! Dabbling in Western magic has made you soft!”
The man shouting at us was dressed in an astonishingly old-fashioned outfit.
Purple hakama worn beneath layers of white robes. On his head sat a black hat that stuck straight up. I believe it was called eboshi.
He looked exactly like what you’d expect an onmyoji to look like. His greasy face was heavily lined, making him look somewhere in his forties or fifties.
“I am Yujiro Kijima, thirty-eighth head of the Kijima family. Phyllis Iris, as stated in the document, I would have you submit to our authority.”
Kijima said it with an expression of pure arrogance.
“No. If you want me to cooperate with the investigation, that’s one thing. But don’t drag me into your factional squabbling.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
Kijima nodded as though he had expected precisely that answer.
“If you have nothing to hide, then you should have no problem providing us with your research. By refusing, you are effectively admitting that you, too, were involved in the kidnapping of Ayano Matsuki.”
Oi. That was an awfully forced bit of logic.
“Well, the pretext doesn’t really matter.”
And just like that, he threw the whole argument out the window.
“You may have lived for hundreds of years, for all I know, but in the end, you’re nothing more than a researcher who’s spent all that time safely playing with little fires. Don’t think you can defeat someone like me, who has spent more than forty years fighting on the front lines. I’ll crush you in no time.”
Kijima pulled a long, narrow strip of paper from inside his robes. It was covered in all sorts of tiny writing, and I could sense magical power emanating from each and every character.
Talisman. I remembered Suika telling me about them before. Most exorcists studied onmyoji-style techniques, apparently, and they channeled their power through talismans inscribed with incantations.
“Rest assured. The Kijima family will use the fruits of your research as a stepping stone to greatness. You can return to hell with peace of mind.”
A sinister presence gradually began to fill the room.
By the way. There was someone else here with us. Aitori Shizuku. She’s a member of the Department of Divinities’ Affairs, too.
So naturally, I assumed she would side against Phyllis. Except she didn’t move. She was frozen in place, an Onigiri Senbei still stuck to the corner of her mouth.
“What are you waiting for, Aitori? Negotiations have broken down. Get into combat position.”
Kijima barked the order.
“I told you, didn’t I? When I become head of the Department of Divinities’ Affairs, I’ll consider what to do about the heretical Aitori family.”
He spoke with an almost disturbingly familiar tone as he reached out to put a hand on Shizuku’s shoulder.
But—
“—Stop sexually harassing me. I’ll sue you.”
Shizuku stood up and slapped his hand away with considerable force.
“What do you think you’re doing, Aitori?”
“I know this is a little late, but I’ve finally made up my mind.”
Shizuku turned her back on Phyllis. Then she glared straight at Kijima.
“Oh? So you’re betraying the Department?”
“This has nothing to do with betrayal. Kijima-sama, this is your own personal crusade, isn’t it?”
As she spoke, Shizuku raised her right hand. A blue sphere floated above her palm.
Was this the so-called magic wand she’d been talking about?
“As head of the Aitori family, I don’t think it’s wise to make an enemy of Phyllis-san here. This is nothing more than one act of personal recklessness colliding with another. In other words, just another factional squabble. Happens all the time lately.”
Shizuku continued.
“Besides, Kijima-sama, what do you think of my outfit?”
“Huh?”
The abrupt change of subject seemed to catch Kijima completely off guard. His eyes narrowed suspiciously for a moment.
“Your clothes perfectly embody your own shallowness. They are the very definition of frivolous and superficial. I have nothing else to say.”
“Then I suppose you’re my enemy after all. After all, Phyllis-san told me my outfit was fashionable.”
And then Shizuku faced toward Phyllis.
“I’ll buy you some time here. Please take Master and the young mistress and escape.”
She declared this with a resolute expression.
And yet—
“Huh?”
Apparently, it was only now that Shizuku realized something.
“Uhm… where exactly are Master and the young mistress?”
Right here.
I reached around from behind and placed a hand on Yujiro Kijima’s back.
“—《Thunderbolt Spell》—《Thy Limbs Are No Longer Thine Own, So Just Stay Still, Will You?》”
“Gngh!?”
Kijima’s entire body jerked violently with a thoroughly undignified sound.
The moment this man entered the room, Mia and I had both activated [Concealment]. Then, while Kijima was distracted by Phyllis and Shizuku, we had quietly slipped around behind him.
There’s a saying about how nothing good ever comes from standing around chatting when there’s an enemy right in front of you. This was one of those times.
Kijima collapsed to the floor, his eyes rolling white. The battle was over in an instant.
“Uh…”
Shizuku scratched her cheek awkwardly.
“You know, this is usually the part where things get really exciting in anime and manga, right? Someone fights with a tragic determination, gets pushed to the brink, and then awakens a new power or something.”
“Sorry, Shizuku. This is real life.”
For starters, a showdown between a young Chūnibyō and an elderly Chūnibyō was far too terrifying. It was such a dream matchup that I wanted it to stay a dream.
Besides—
“Even if you strike a dramatic pose with an Onigiri Senbei stuck to the corner of your mouth, honestly, it just looks like a gag scene.”
“Wha—?! W-where? Where is it?”
“Right here.”
I stretched up a little and removed the piece of Onigiri Senbei that was still clinging to the corner of Shizuku’s mouth.
In a romantic comedy, this would probably be the moment for the classic “pluck → pop it into their own mouth” indirect-kiss routine. But doing that in real life would pretty much qualify as sexual harassment. So I wrapped it in a tissue and threw it in the trash.
“Ah…”
Shizuku let out a faint, slightly disappointed sound.
This is translated by Yume Neiji. Kindly read at yumeneijiworks.com
Previous ⚜ Table of Contents ⚜ Next
