9. Confession Etiquette

Though they were all called dead ones, they came in a multitude of different forms.

Kuzaku struck a dead one in the face using Bash. The dead one’s head shot back, but its four arms still reached out trying to grab Kuzaku.

Ranta came in from the right, and Yume from the left, both charging into a dead one. Betrayer Mk. II and Yume’s machete stabbed into its flanks.

With the dead one coughing and sputtering, and a sharp glint in its two white eyes as it spewed a brown mucus from its gash-like mouth, Haruhiro grappled it from behind, stabbing his short sword through its neck.

Slashing one up like this wasn’t enough to kill a dead one. Or to stop it, rather. The dead ones didn’t stop until they were completely dead.

Shouting with exertion, Haruhiro moved his sword around as he twisted the dead one’s neck. Back and forth, left and right, violently. It snapped. Or rather, it came off. The strength suddenly drained away from the dead one’s body. It collapsed. Backwards.

Haruhiro hurriedly got away from it, losing his balance and landing on his rump. He was about to throw away the dead one’s severed head, but he thought better of it, instead placing it on the ground.

“Aww, yeah! It’s looting time!” Ranta boldly assaulted the dead one’s remains.

Haruhiro always found himself thinking this, but couldn’t he be a little less crass about it?

“Haruhiro-kun!” Shihoru pointed into the mist with her staff.

Merry was quickly beside her, short staff at the ready.

Kuzaku, through labored breaths, hefted his shield once more, spinning his right arm, which held his long sword, around once for exercise.

Another one, huh, thought Haruhiro, rising to his feet with a sigh. “Ranta, how was it?”

“Hold on, damn it!” Ranta let out a vulgar little laugh. “Okay, we’ve got two medium-sized coins and one small one! That’s 2 ruma and 1 wen! Not half bad, if I do say so myself!”

“If you’re done there, try gettin’ ready to help!” Yume nudged Ranta in the back with her knee.

“Hey, don’t kick me, Tiny Tits!”

“Kehe...” Zodiac-kun put in. “Whatever, just hurry... You lowlife... Kehehe...”

“Zodiac-kun! Where do you get off calling me, your summoner and master, a lowlife?!” Ranta screamed.

“It suits you...” Haruhiro squinted his eyes.

It was coming. White eyes. It was a dead one. Running towards them. This dead one was crablike, somehow. It reminded him of the giant crab grocer. That’d make the thing hard to fight, but he couldn’t afford to say that.

“It looks tough, so be careful!” Haruhiro called.

The dead ones came in a multitude of forms. But there were things they all had in common. In terms of appearance, it was their eyes. Dead ones had white eyes. It wasn’t that they didn’t have an iris, or anything like that, but it was almost like their eye sockets had been filled in with some white liquid. When they died, their eyes returned to normal, so it was apparently some part of the process that had changed them into dead ones.

Also, it seemed that the dead ones really didn’t feel pain. Thanks to that, short of killing them by destroying their heart or brain, or chopping their heads off, they would keep on going.

The other thing all of them had in common was that they were cannibals. Dead ones didn’t move in groups. It seemed dead ones saw other dead ones as their enemies, or rather their prey.

It had been seven days since Haruhiro and the others had started commuting to and from the City of the Dead Ones. In that time, they had witnessed the dead ones feeding on a number of occasions. Each time, it had been a dead one eating another dead one.

The dead ones attacked one another, and the victor would feed on the defeated dead one’s flesh and innards, stealing any usable equipment. Then they took the defeated dead one’s black coins for themselves. This was typical dead one behavior. Or rather, they had yet to encounter a single dead one that acted differently.

If all of the dead ones were like this, then the City of the Dead Ones was a particularly nice target for Haruhiro and the others, who had found themselves forced to continue on as volunteer soldiers, even now that they had come to this gloomy and dangerous new world.

There were many different types of dead ones. That meant there was a wide variance in each one’s combat abilities. There might be dead ones that were so incredibly strong that Haruhiro and the others couldn’t possibly hope to defeat them, and they could very well run into one like that tomorrow... no, today.

So there were risks, of course. However, generally, they wouldn’t need to plan for a battle against multiple dead ones. That was because not only did the dead ones not form groups, they were actively targeting one another.

Surprisingly, when a dead one had the choice of attacking Haruhiro and the party or another dead one, it would choose the other dead one. When two dead ones were fighting, that was an excellent opportunity to take advantage. Sure, it was a horrible thing to do, but being a volunteer soldier had always been a dirty job, one where ethical considerations didn’t factor into things. This wasn’t a trade Haruhiro could recommend to anyone who was a good person, or who liked to think of themselves as a good person.

In any case, both dead ones would ignore Haruhiro and the others, fully focused on defeating the other dead one and devouring it. That being the case, Haruhiro and the others could swarm the two dead ones who had eyes only for each other and kill them both.

Even if they didn’t say it out loud, most volunteer soldiers would think this afterwards: Thanks for the free meal.

Incidentally, those like Haruhiro who were not so insensitive to what they were doing, though they might have been cowardly about it, made excuses for themselves. It wasn’t that they felt what they were doing was okay and they had no doubts about it. I have to do this to survive, they told themselves to assuage their consciences, until eventually they got used to it. Even if they returned to their senses and became sickened with themselves occasionally, they probably would forget it again by the time the next day came.

With their seventh day of hunting in the City of the Dead Ones finished, their party returned to Well Village.

Today they had collected 9 ruma and 11 wen. The dead ones’ equipment was in incredibly bad shape, and any given piece was usually only worth 1 wen, so they didn’t bother bringing it back unless it looked particularly good.

Their shared assets had exceeded 20 ruma, and they should have each accrued several ruma in personal assets since they’d started splitting the money between them three days ago. Food still cost 1 ruma for the six of them, so with two meals a day for 2 ruma, they had a fair bit of leeway in their spending now.

Today, while the girls were bathing, Ranta started drinking at the grocery store.

That’s right. The grocery store had alcohol.

There were a number of varieties of alcohol that came in jugs, and the cheap ones were 1 wen. Haruhiro didn’t think much of the flavor, but Ranta was a real fan of it, and he’d been drinking a lot recently. It was a real possibility that the vast majority of Ranta’s money was being spent on alcohol.

That being the case, Haruhiro and Kuzaku decided to ditch the totally-sloshed Ranta and take a bath by themselves when the girls were finished.

The hole in the riverbed they were using as a bath had been dug in a spot where the residents of Well Village were unlikely to look. It had made their hearts race when they had bathed at first, but now they just got naked, and they uncovered their faces, too. They kept their helmets or whatever else close at hand, just to be safe; if anyone came near, they could just cover themselves quickly. It hadn’t caused any problems yet, so it was probably fine.

The guys didn’t care that much about being naked together anymore. Even with their eyes adjusted to the darkness, it was still dark. So long as they didn’t try too hard to see anything, they wouldn’t be able to see anything.

First they washed their hands and faces in the Lukewarm River. For some reason the grocery store sold soap, so that was convenient. They washed the rest of their bodies quickly, too. Then, finally, they sank into the bath.

The water of the Lukewarm River was lower than body temperature; it was, just as the name they’d given it said, lukewarm. They would have loved to take a hot bath, but if they started demanding luxuries like that, there would be no end to it.

“Whew...” Haruhiro slowly turned his head from side to side. He massaged his own shoulders. If he sat with his butt touching the bottom of the bath, the water was deep enough to come up to Haruhiro’s shoulders. He could stretch out his legs, too. However, it was a bit cramped for Kuzaku with his bigger body. Being tall wasn’t always so great. Haruhiro was still just a tiny bit jealous, though.

“Maaaan.” Kuzaku rubbed his face with both hands. “Y’know, today was kinda... I dunno. Well... Yeah. Today was pretty exhausting, huh...”

“Sure was,” Haruhiro agreed. “You did good work. You must be tired.”

“Oh, no, it must have been way more tiring for you. Compared to me, at least.”

“You’re the one out there putting your neck on the line, Kuzaku. I’m just, y’know, hanging out in the back.”

“You’re using your head,” Kuzaku contradicted. “That’s hard work, isn’t it? In a way. Me, I just do whatever you tell me to. As long as I do that, it all works out somehow. Like, you must be setting things up so that can happen, right?”

“It’s because you’re doing a good job in your role as a tank.”

“You serious? I’m doing a good job?”

“You are, man.”

“Nah, I’ve got a long way to go. I’m not that great.”

“I’m pretty serious about my compliments, you know,” Haruhiro said. “You’re pretty picky with yourself.”

“A little, yeah...” Kuzaku suddenly went quiet. There was an odd pause before he spoke again. “...Umm, I don’t get the chance to do this often—talking to you alone like this, I mean. Do you mind if I ask something?”

“Huh? Oh, sure,” Haruhiro said. “...Wh-What?”

“It’s about Moguzo.”

“...Moguzo?”

Oh, that’s what it’s about, Haruhiro thought, but then also thought, If not that, what would he ask about?

Anyway, the question had caught him off guard. He hadn’t expected to hear Moguzo’s name from Kuzaku.

“Sure, I don’t mind. Of course not. But, Kuzaku, um... You never, well, you didn’t have anything to do with Moguzo, not directly at least, right?”

“Well, no. I know who the guy was, though.”

“...Does it bother you?” Haruhiro asked.

“Like, you guys never talk about it. Like, you never compare me to Moguzo, right? At the very least, you never tell me when you do.”

“I wouldn’t... no.”

“But, y’know, I think about that stuff. Like, there’s no way you aren’t comparing me to him. I wonder things like, ‘Am I doing as well as Moguzo?’ Or ‘Am I managing to fill the hole he left?’ Sorry.”

“No... No need to apologize out of nowhere.”

“No, I was just thinking, it’s not right to talk about me filling the hole. That’s not a thing I can fill. It’s not a thing that can be filled. That’s how it is with comrades, isn’t it? Me, after the time I’ve been with you guys, I can feel it. Irreplaceable, that’s the word I’m looking for. That’s what comrades are, yeah. This isn’t the best way to say it, but just because one guy dies, you can’t let another guy in to replace him. It’s not that simple. Even if you’re forced to do it, it feels wrong, you could say. I can’t really word it right. Like, I can’t ever be Moguzo’s replacement. But, on the other hand, I want to find a way to protect you all, in a different way than Moguzo did. I’m a paladin, even if I’m not a great one, so, like, I feel like I’ve gotta protect you all.”

“...Man...”

Oh, this is no good, Haruhiro thought. He splashed water on his face. What the hell, man? Cut that out. You’re blindsiding me here. I don’t know what to say. I’m not good at this stuff.

It wasn’t that Kuzaku had just gradually been getting used to his role and growing as a tank naturally. While sensing a high wall called Moguzo that he couldn’t see, he had been facing the enemy and himself, and fighting with everything he had. He had a firm sense of purpose, shedding blood for his comrades as he improved himself step by step with painstaking effort.

Had Haruhiro been able to see that?

Had Haruhiro been able to understand the struggles that Kuzaku was going through?

There was no way he could say he had. His mind had been too busy elsewhere. Basically, he had a hard enough time taking care of himself. Enough excuses, though. The fact of the matter was, Haruhiro hadn’t been giving Kuzaku all of the credit he was due.

Sorry for being so hopeless as a leader, and for coming up short in so many ways, Haruhiro thought dispiritedly.

It would be easy to bow his head. But what good could come from apologizing to Kuzaku? Haruhiro might feel better if he did, but that was probably all it would accomplish. It was pure self-satisfaction.

“Moguzo was...” Haruhiro pinched his nose and breathed through his mouth.

Oh, damn. I think I’m gonna cry. No, I’m fine. I can hold it in.

“He was an important comrade. Yeah. I don’t think he can be replaced. We can’t forget him, and we won’t. But still... He died. He’s gone. Moguzo’s gone now. I don’t want to say that’s why, but now—Kuzaku, you’re our party’s tank, and I think you’re the only one who can be.”

“...Whoa.”

“Huh?”

“Ha ha...” Kuzaku covered his face with his big hands. “I’m tearing up here. What a laugh...”

“I won’t laugh at you, though...”

“Honestly, it’d be better if you would,” Kuzaku said. “Man, this is embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Could you do me a favor and not tell anyone about this? Especially Ranta-kun.”

“...You think I would?”

“Nah, I don’t. Just saying it to be safe.”

“I won’t talk about it.” For no real reason, Haruhiro used his finger to flick some water in Kuzaku’s direction.

“Hey!” Kuzaku splashed him back. “What was that for? You’re like a kid!”

“No, you are.”

“You started it.”

“I won’t do it again, okay?”

“You swear?”

“I swear, I swear,” Haruhiro said, then immediately scooped up some water and dumped it on Kuzaku’s head.

“I knew you’d do that!” Kuzaku immediately retaliated.

What the heck are we doing...? Haruhiro started to feel silly, and decided to stop the splash fight, but it still took a while before that happened. Honestly, what were they doing?

But it was fun. It was so stupid, he couldn’t help but laugh. Right now, he felt like he could talk about it.

I should ask him about it directly, Haruhiro thought. He needed to make things clear. Weird as it sounded, he honestly wanted Kuzaku to find happiness.

Was that an exaggeration? No, he didn’t think so. For the time being, Haruhiro and the others were going to be stuck living here. What if that lasted for a year, two years, five years, a decade, or even more than that? They couldn’t go on as volunteer soldiers forever, doing nothing but hunting, eating, and sleeping. They needed to have some kind of life outside of that, too. They could get permission from the residents of Well Village to build a house for themselves inside the village, for instance. Or, with an eye to the future, they could find jobs other than hunting.

If both sides wanted it, they could pair off into couples. If there were children born as a result, they could all protect and nurture them together, and that might work to motivate them all.

The way things stood, that was all a dream, a wispy figment of his imagination, but it could happen. It wouldn’t be strange for anything to happen.

“Listen, Kuzaku,” Haruhiro said. “You mind if I ask something, too... maybe?”

“Sure. What?”

“It’s kind of personal, though.”

“Don’t hold back. You and me are pals, man. —No, maybe I got carried away there. Acting in such an embarrassing way again...”

“Now it’s really hard for me to say it...”

“I know, right?” Kuzaku said. “Sorry. Oh, but seriously, you can ask me anything. I don’t think I’m hiding anything.”

“W-Well, then.” Haruhiro cleared his throat.

What is this? A ringing in my ears? Something like that? Or is it something else? I’m ridiculously tense. How do I bring it up? I’m not good at talking about this stuff. But then, do I have anything I’m good at? Not really, huh. Yeah, I’ve got nothing. Oh, well. It’s fine being normal. I’ll ask him straight. That’s the only way.

“H-How are things? With M-M-M... M-Merry?”

He stuttered. Stuttered like crazy. He’d wanted to do it subtly, like it was no big deal. He couldn’t. In the end, it was impossible. This was the best Haruhiro could manage.

“Uhh...” Kuzaku bit his upper lip with his lower teeth. It was a kind of dexterous display, as far as lip biting went. “What do you mean, how are things?”

“Huh?” Haruhiro faltered. “But. You know, um... What? Huh? I mean, you know? Kuzaku, you and Merry are... Well, you’re, um...”

“What’s this about Merry... -san and me?”

“H-Huh? Y-You’re... mad?” Haruhiro asked.

“No, I’m not mad.”

“No, but, somehow, you seem sorta upset...”

“No, man, I’m not upset, okay?”