[Episode 117] — Meanwhile, Vivian (2)
No matter how hard I looked, it was a bizarre house. The ceiling was made of chocolate-coated crackers, the window frames were decorated with cookies, the handles were smooth, glossy candy canes, and even the adhesive used to hold everything together was whipped cream.
“It’s amazing that no bugs gather around it...”
“It’s magic.”
What the hell was this magic supposed to be...?
I frowned as I looked at the confectionery house, which appeared sticky enough to cling to anything, but Fran, seemingly unconcerned, grabbed the candy-cane handle and flung open the cookie door.
Was it really all right to touch that sticky-looking candy cane? It clearly looked like the candy had melted and become tacky. Had any of it gotten on her hand? I felt like grabbing Fran by the hand, running to the spring, and washing it off immediately.
As I thought that, Titania suddenly came to mind.
‘It reminds me of when Titania ate chocolate as a child.’
When she was six, Titania had chocolate smeared all over both hands and had licked the chocolate off her fingers with an expression of pure happiness. I remembered scrubbing her hands clean back then. She really had been adorable.
Thinking of Titania left me feeling listless, so I pinched my cheek and came to my senses. This was no time to miss Titania. The witch from *Hansel and Gretel* was standing right in front of me.
Fran entered the house and called out the witch’s name.
“Katarina, are you here?”
The inside of the confectionery house was more normal than I had expected. The floor was made of wooden planks, and there was ordinary wooden furniture. Unlike the bizarre exterior, the interior was remarkably mundane.
If there was one problem, though...
‘...It’s filthy.’
The inside of the house was atrociously dirty.
Every area except the kitchen where the sweets were made was filthy. Trash and dust littered the floor, and piles of laundry had been left untouched. This was one of the reasons I had not wanted to meet this witch.
As Fran wandered through the house, pushing aside the trash piled on the floor, I heard a clattering crash from deeper inside. The innermost door flew open, and a woman wearing only half her clothes came rushing out.
Her green hair was dry and frizzy. Dark circles hung beneath her eyes, and her underwear was mismatched top and bottom. She had even put her clothes on inside out, and the sight of her desperately trying to get ready was almost pitiful.
‘Katarina’ hurriedly pulled on her skirt and clothes, then gave a wide, vacant smile. She bowed from the waist and greeted Fran and me. It was meant as a welcoming gesture, but I felt anything but welcome as I stared blankly at her.
“W-w-w-welcome...! To my pastry shop...!”
“Katarina, it’s me. Fran of the Coven.”
“F-Fran?”
Katarina raised only her head to look at Fran while still bent at the waist. Then she let out a deep sigh, as though disappointed, and slumped down onto the floor. She looked like a doll whose strings had come undone.
“W-what... I thought I had a g-guest for the first time in a long while...”
Would any customer actually come to a place this dirty...?
No, the exterior was certainly impressive enough to pass for a pastry shop, but anyone who saw the inside would surely turn around and flee. It was so filthy that you couldn’t even tell which area was the display counter and which was the register.
Ignoring Katarina, Fran continued speaking.
“Katarina. I brought the person you said you needed to work with you.”
“W-what?! R-really?! W-where?!”
Fran pointed at me, standing beside her. The moment Katarina whipped her head around to look at me, her murky eyes shook as if struck by an earthquake.
“A-ah, ugh, a-aaah—”
“...I’m Vivian Liriensol. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Aaah! Vivian!!”
Katarina screamed as if she had seen a ghost.
Yes, I had expected something like this to some extent. Most of the people who had known Vivian up until now had reacted this way. In fact, it had been a while since I had seen such a reaction, so it felt strangely nostalgic. Sigh.
Katarina’s eyes rolled back, and she collapsed backward with a thump. This was the second reason I had not wanted to meet this witch. She was simply far too timid.
In other words, it meant that communication between people was impossible.
‘She caused a lot of trouble in the original story because she couldn’t communicate with people. The dialogue options were practically meaningless. That’s why I didn’t particularly want to meet her...’
Fran looked back and forth between the toppled Katarina and me, then shrugged. It was as if she were saying, ‘This isn’t my fault.’
Yes, what fault could Fran possibly have? It was all Vivian’s fault.
I let out a deep sigh and looked around the filthy house. Since Katarina was unconscious, this seemed like the perfect opportunity. I rolled up my sleeves and asked Fran to look after the fallen Katarina.
“Take care of Katarina for me. I’ll... clean up this filthy house.”
“I don’t mind cleaning it myself.”
Fran thumped herself on the chest, as if asking whether I couldn’t see her maid’s uniform. She looked so confidently as though she were saying, ‘Cleaning is my job!’ that I chuckled and patted her head.
“I’m worried she’ll open her eyes, see me, and faint again. When she wakes up, explain everything about me to her.”
“That is true. Understood.”
Carrying the collapsed Katarina in her arms, Fran went into the bedroom at the back. I turned my head and looked once more at the house, which appeared to have been struck by a bombardment, then sighed deeply and began by looking for a broom.
*
It took more than four hours for Katarina to regain consciousness and for Fran to explain everything about me to her. Unlike the other witches, Katarina apparently had not known about ‘me,’ and it took her a while to understand that Vivian had died.
“S-so, in other words... you’re Vivian, but with a d-different person inside?”
“...Yes. You’ve already asked that question dozens of times.”
“I-I’m sorry... I just c-can’t believe it...”
Katarina glanced at me with nothing but her eyes, as though she truly could not believe it. When I let out a deep sigh at her exasperating behavior, her shoulders jerked—not just flinched, but leaped as though she had been burned. Even with Fran mediating, she still acted like this...
At this rate, we would never get around to discussing work, even if an entire lifetime passed. So I quickly asked Katarina about the ‘job’ she had requested from Fran. It was a situation where the applicant was questioning the person doing the hiring, and I nearly laughed despite myself, but I played it off and asked casually.
“Katarina? Come to think of it, why do you need someone to work here?”
“Ah, w-well... as y-you can see, there aren’t m-many customers at my shop...”
“......Yes, and?”
“I-I don’t think I can r-run a business here... Should I say the l-location isn’t good...? S-so, I’m thinking of m-moving the shop this time, and I’m looking for an employee who can work with me there.”
“......I see. Specifically, what would that employee be doing?”
“Uh, w-well... e-everything except c-cooking.”
“Excuse me?”
Everything except cooking? When I stared at her in disbelief, Katarina flinched and trembled. Did she really feel threatened just because I was looking at her? Seeing her begin to shake, I let out a sigh without meaning to.
“...So you’re looking for someone to handle every aspect of running the shop except the kitchen work?”
“Y-yes, that’s right. If possible... someone who would always receive the customers for me and meet people on my behalf... I-I’m looking for that kind of ideal employee.”
...At that moment, a throbbing headache struck me, and I had no choice but to clutch my forehead. I couldn’t help thinking that I had come here for nothing. It was true that I needed a job, but this was a bit much.
I shot Fran a sidelong glare, but Fran, who had introduced me to this job, seemed to have no particular thoughts about the situation. She probably thought it was possible because she was a perfect maid.
It was the first time that the reliable Fran I had known until now looked like an idiot.
As I sat there sighing, wondering what on earth I should do, a loud rumbling came from Katarina’s stomach as she lay on the bed. Her face flushed bright red at the sound that had come from her own belly, and she gave an awkward smile.
“I-I’m sorry. I haven’t been able to eat properly...”
“...? Because you don’t have any money?”
“N-no. It’s not a matter of m-money... I’ve been so focused on m-making sweets that... all I ever eat are the sweets I make... so I don’t really eat proper meals... Heh, heh heh...!”
Was that really something to say as though it were a point of pride?
Seeing Katarina scratch the back of her head and smile sheepishly left me dumbfounded. Should I say that every single thing she did was irritating, or that I couldn’t bring myself to leave her alone?
I had known about Katarina through the original story, but seeing her with my own eyes made it clear. If she were left as she was, Katarina really seemed like the sort of person who might die alone.
“Haa... Would it be all right if I used the kitchen?”
“Y-yes? I-it’s fine, but...”
“Then wait here. Fran, could you help me?”
“Yes, understood.”
I rose from my seat and headed with Fran toward the cleanest room in the house: the kitchen. When I opened the pantry where the food was stored, it was laughably full of nothing but ingredients for making sweets. Flour, sugar, eggs, and so on—
I took some eggs from the pantry and began cooking with Fran’s assistance. It was an omelet that could be made with nothing but eggs and salt, but since I had never used this kitchen before, I needed Fran’s help.
‘Cooking is easy as long as you know your way around a kitchen. I haven’t had many chances to cook since coming here, but I used to live on my own, so I know how.’
I placed three reasonably made omelets on plates, picked them up, and headed straight for Katarina. She stared blankly down at the plump, yellow omelet before her, drooling.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t make you anything better. If there had been a wider variety of ingredients, I would have made something more suitable... but all you had were ingredients for sweets, so I just made omelets. Eat them while they’re warm.”
“I-I’ll eat well...”
“And I cleaned up most of the dirt outside, too. I haven’t done the laundry yet, but if you tell me where to do it before I leave, I’ll take care of it. And also...”
“C-cleaned?”
At the mention of cleaning, Katarina jumped up and looked outside the door. The house was still far from completely tidy, but the interior was unquestionably different from what she had first seen. Katarina was left speechless.
“I-I can see the floor...!”
Katarina looked at the somewhat tidier house, then scooped up a spoonful of omelet. The moment the omelet touched the spoon, it lifted in the exact shape of the spoon, looking almost like pudding.
When the salty omelet touched her teeth, it slid down her throat in several greedy swallows without even being chewed much. Warmth filled her body, so much so that she could feel it traveling down her esophagus into her stomach.
After hurriedly shoving all the omelet on the plate into her mouth, Katarina suddenly sprang toward me. I was still seated and jumped in surprise as Katarina wrapped her arms around my waist and buried her face against my stomach.
“H-hired! You’re hired!”
“What?! N-no, I don’t want to?!”
“I-I refuse your refusal! Y-you’re hired! You can’t go anywhere!”
“No, more importantly...! Get off me!”
I tried pushing her face away, but Katarina clung to me like a leech and showed no sign of letting go. I looked at Fran with a desperate gaze, silently asking for help, but Fran merely nodded while eating the omelet I had made.
“That’s wonderful. Vivian, you found a job, so everything is perfect.”
“What do you mean, everything is perfect...!”
“M-mommy! Don’t go!”
“W-who’s your mommy?!”
...That was how I came to work with Katarina. Katarina handled the cooking in the kitchen, while I took care of everything else. I displayed the sweets Katarina made and served the customers.
After discussing a few matters with Katarina, I moved with her to a small rural village far from the capital. There, in the little shop in the forest that Katarina had supposedly prepared, we opened a tiny pastry shop.
There were few customers, and we didn’t make much money, but Katarina said she was happy that other people were eating the sweets she made.
The sweets containing her ‘magic’ became ‘medicine.’
It was a rural pastry shop that imbued its sweets with small spells capable of curing colds and minor illnesses. There, Katarina and I began our country life together, just the two of us.