I mean, I am a healthy 'adult male'. Of course, I have sexual desires. 'Go to that kind of shop then,' one might say, but before I am an 'adult male', I am also a 'poor merchant'. I want to keep unnecessary expenses down. Moreover, I'm afraid of getting diseases. So, the quickest way to deal with surging sexual desires would be, indeed, 'affordable books.' And after I started traveling with Miss Al, I couldn’t do it during our nights in the wild, but it was often the case that I would open my favorite pages when we stayed in an inn and Al was taking a bath.
"Why... Why are you touching other people's stuff...!"
To my surprise, a low voice came out. I was aware that my voice, my entire body, was trembling slightly.
"Uh!"
She let out a small scream from the back of her throat. Then she continued speaking.
"I'm sorry, Mister Kazuo... I..."
Her voice was trembling too. It was clear that she was genuinely trying to apologize. But I yelled:
"Don't touch other people's stuff!"
And I snatched 'Living in the Mountain with My Wife' from her hands.
"I'm sorry, Mister Kazuo!"
She rushed past me and ran out of the room. As she brushed past, a hot teardrop hit my right arm and trickled onto the back of my hand. I noticed it and my body jerked, but my feet remained rooted to the floor.
"Darn it..."
I plopped down onto the bed where she had just been sitting. My face was hot. My breath was ragged. My clenched fist wouldn't stop shaking. This was "anger." However, it was not pure "anger," but something else that had taken on a different form.
"But why...?"
Why did Miss Al touch my personal belongings in the first place? She had never done anything like that before.
I casually glanced over to the corner of the bed. There, my cloak was neatly folded.
"Huh...!"
I picked up the cloak and spread it out. The large hole that had been opened before we arrived in town had been carefully mended. Not just there, the tears, frays, and scratches that I had put off fixing because they were 'small', and the holes made by flying sparks were all neatly repaired. It was obvious who had done it. And next to where the cloak was placed, there was a sewing kit.
"Ah... ah...!"
I remembered. When we first met, when we were still eating separately, she was mending while eating, and I put my sewing kit in my personal belongings box in front of her. Also, during our casual conversations, I often talked about books that I had read and found interesting in the past. It was entirely possible that she had mistaken 'Living in the Mountain with My Wife,' which I had kept in my personal belongings box, for one of those books.
"..."
I held the cloak in my hands once again. From the even stitches, I could tell she had done a very careful job.
And then I looked at 'Living in the Mountain with My Wife'. Miss Al is a "flesh-and-blood young woman" too. It wouldn't be strange if she wanted to read it.
"Ahhhh... I'm such an idiot...!" I insulted myself with the words I had been taunted with since childhood. I covered my eyes with both hands and dug my nails into my hairline. She did nothing wrong! Rather, she should have been taking a rest, but she’s such a kind person she was mending things for me! Besides, it was my fault for leaving a sensual novel where she could easily find it. And what was the big deal about her finding out about my "wild" side? After all, we were going to part ways in a few days...!
"Huh⁉" Although I should have been regretting hurting her, I realized my thoughts were going in a different direction. At the same time, my back shivered. Was that... a chill⁉
(Why am I feeling a chill now...?)
The cause of the chill was unclear, but thanks to it, I was able to calm down. Why did I rush back here? Why was I so rushed that I didn't even knock?
"!"
The tragedy that once befell this town. The elderly people who suffered deep physical and mental wounds. The demi-humans who were the object of their fear and hatred - I remembered the mayor's story and the hateful glances directed at me. If they were directing such strong hatred towards me, a "foreigner" who has no relation at all, what would happen if Miss Al, who was obviously a demi-human with long ears, encountered them?
Then I remembered what just happened. When she left the room, she was not wearing her turban. After all, most people take off their turbans when they enter a room!
"Miss Al!" I ran out of the room, putting on the mantle she had mended for me.
"Oh, the traveling guy!" As soon as I left the inn, I ran into the young people who had first spoken to me when I arrived in town.
"Oh, um, have you seen the woman I was with?" I asked them. Then, immediately:
"Yeah, she went that way." They pointed in the direction she went. Their words continued.
"It looked like she was crying. Did you guys have a fight? You can't make a beautiful woman like her cry...!"
"And, by the way, her ears were long. Is she a demi-human? An elf? That's pretty cool!"
I don't know her race, either.
"But isn't it dangerous in that direction?"
"Yeah, I thought so too...!"
"What do you mean⁉" I asked the girls, who used slightly more polite language than the boys.
"Well, there are a lot of people who don't like demi-humans over there..."
"Yeah, not just the old people, but the adults are… pretty scary too..."
"...!"
The elderly who were devastated by the demi-humans and the middle-aged and older people who were directly raised by them. The mayor's words raced through my head.
"Ah... Thank you very much!" After thanking them, I ran in the direction they pointed. It was a different area from where the mayor's house was.
The moment I entered that area, I could feel a shift in the air. It was dark. Heavy. And painful! Careful not to irritate the people passing by, I advanced.
"Miss Al...!"
I really wanted to call out and search, but I didn't want to agitate the people here, so I couldn't. My frustration mounted.
"Hey, you!"
From a narrow alley, someone called out to me in a hushed voice. I approached cautiously. There stood a middle-aged man in his fifties.
"What is it?"
I asked in a whisper.
"Are you looking for that demi-human woman?"
In response to the man's question, I silently nodded. I remained cautious.
"Relax. I'm a drinking buddy of the mayor. That woman is in the square straight ahead. Hurry. If you don't, something terrible might happen...!"
I refused to consider that the man who spoke with a soft, strong voice could be lying.
"...Thank you!"
I whispered my gratitude and headed towards the square.
The closer I got to the square, the more the tense atmosphere seeped into me. At the same time, I began to hear voices of anger. The elderly, unable to raise their voices much, voiced their full fury, filled with hatred and sorrow.
"You... why have you come ?"
"Demi-human...!"
"Give me back my family!"
"My arm...!"
"My leg...!"
As I approached the square, I readjusted my turban to cover my face. There was a sparse crowd. I found a gap between people and pushed my way slowly towards the front. Unavoidably, I noticed some people in the crowd holding stones or sticks. There were also those who eyed with lewdness, not hatred. I had some understanding of how horrifying and cruel people could be when they believe they belong to the "right side" or the "majority". Furthermore, if they deemed their "enemy" as weak, their actions could escalate even more!
"Miss Al...!"
Somehow peering into the center of the commotion through the gap between people, I found her‼ Her beautiful face was pale, her body rigid, her lips trembling as if the sound of her chattering teeth would reach me.
—When I was about 12-13 years old, I was relentlessly chased, verbally abused and pelted with stones by a mob...
I remembered the nightmare she once shared with me. The image I imagined and the scene before my eyes were nearly identical!
"...!"
I searched for an area with fewer people. Over there! Then, again finding a gap between people, I slipped through, moving so I was directly behind her. Quietly, yet quickly, careful not to agitate the crowd! During this, the elderly continued their accusations towards her.
Eventually, I managed to get almost directly behind her. Of course, there was a considerable distance.
*Inhale…*
I inhaled through my nose, hidden by the turban. Then:
*Haah!*
With an exhale, while grabbing the edge of the cloak in my left hand, I dashed out! Reaching her side, I covered her head with the cloak, embraced her left shoulder, and pushed her stiff body forward as I said:
"Miss Al, let's run!"
"Mister, Kazuo...⁉"
Although my face was hidden by the turban, it seemed she recognized it was me. She entrusted her body to me, somehow managing to move her feet in the same direction. We ran towards the thinner part of the crowd.
"Woooooooooo…!"
At first, the crowd didn't understand what was happening, but then they all started making noise at once, and stones began to fly from all over. Most of the stones, thrown by the elderly, weren't much to worry about, but occasionally, a fairly large stone would whizz through the air and stab into the ground with a thud. Those could kill if they hit. Still, I couldn't stop running. I moved my hand from her left shoulder to the back of her head, using my whole left arm to shield her. Ideally, I should have held her close enough for her head to rest against my chest, but unfortunately, I'm neither tall enough nor do I possess wide shoulders or a robust chest and back. So all I could do was protect her head with my left arm and run like mad! I kept running, even as we reached the sparse parts of the crowd! I ran, finding gaps between people! Even if someone grabbed my cloak, I kept running! I shook off the elderly who attacked me with sticks and a sense of guilt! I was being hit by stones here and there, but I kept running! Running! Running‼ Running——‼
I had no idea where or how I had run, but when I came to my senses, we were by a stream in a forest outside the town. There didn't seem to be anyone following us. Perhaps the elderly didn't have the stamina to chase us, or maybe they were satisfied as long as we were driven out of the town. Still, we couldn't let our guard down.
“…Puh…!”
I washed my face with the water from the stream and took a drink. Once I had caught my breath, I noticed the throbbing pain in various parts of my body. I seemed to have bumps on several parts of my head. I turned to my partner..
"Miss Al, are you okay?"
She seemed to be still frozen between fear and excitement, but she replied in a small voice: "Yes." She didn't seem seriously injured. I then told her about the stories I had heard from the mayor and the young people in town. She listened quietly, looking straight into my eyes.
"I'm sorry, Miss Al. Because I lived in a town where there were quite a few foreigners like me and many demi-humans, I was too used to that situation. Sure, I sometimes feel uncomfortable in other towns just because I'm a foreigner, but I thought it wouldn't be that different in any town. I should have looked into that town more before we came here. I'm really sorry you got attacked."
I bowed my head. Fortunately, she didn't seem to be injured, but all I could do now was apologize.
"…Those eyes…"
"Huh?"
I lifted my head at her murmuring voice.
"The eyes of those old men and women… were filled with more sorrow than anger, hatred, or fear. Just like the people who threw stones at me in my dreams… My life is built on the pain, suffering, and sorrow of many people, isn't it…?"
She spoke with a voice choked with tears, so I told her:
"No, at least today's incident was entirely collateral damage. To begin with, you weren't even there 50-some years ago, right⁉ And even if those dreams were a reality, maybe it was because someone of your race did something bad in the past. But that means it's still collateral damage!"
Maybe she was from a race that lived much longer and doesn't age, but at that moment, I had forgotten that could be a possibility.
"...Mister Kazuo, you really are... so kind... I was really... so scared just now! But, when you held my shoulder and said 'Let's run!', I felt... so glad, so relieved... I thought everyone hated me... Mister Kazuo... thank you... so, so much...!"
As she bowed her head, tears spilled from her eyes, falling onto the ground and soaking into the earth. From the repeated usage of the phrase 'really', I could sense just how terrified and alone she had felt. And now, with her safety assured, the rush of relief and excitement in her mind left her emotionally unstable. Wanting to calm her down, I changed the subject.
"No, 'thank you' is what I should be saying. For mending my cloak, thank you. Not only did you fix that big hole, but you also repaired the small tears that had accumulated over time. You sewed everything so carefully. You must have been tired... And despite that, I... I ended up yelling at you. I'm sorry."
I intended to express my gratitude but it ended up turning into an apology again. However, I felt it was my duty to apologize. After all, I was the one who caused all this. In response to my apology, she replied:
"No, it's me who should apologize... I shouldn't have read your book without your permission, I'm sorry."
"No, it's my fault... I should not have left that kind of stuff lying around in the first place. Besides... If I'm being honest, the reason I got angry was not because of you, Miss Al. You're the one who got caught in the crossfire..."
"Eh? What do you mean?"
When Al looked at me in confusion, I confessed what was in my heart.
"At that moment... I felt 'embarrassed'. I mean, I just couldn't stand the idea of you knowing my dirty secret. It was so unbearably embarrassing, I lost my composure and ended up lashing out at you. It made me realize just how petty and pathetic I am. I'm truly sorry..."
How many times had I bowed my head in apology just today? But her response was unexpected.
"...It was interesting, you know?"
"Eh?"
I asked her to repeat herself.
"I didn't read it all, but both the husband and wife... they're both quite clumsy, but they really care for each other, and they're trying their hardest to understand and love each other. I thought it was a really wonderful story."
"Living in the Mountain with My Wife" was a story about a young man who leaves his hometown to travel, and a girl who lived alone in the deep mountains cultivating medicinal herbs. They, tormented by a sense of alienation, clumsily nurtured their love for each other, relying on their limited knowledge about intimacy. The reason why I loved this story is not just because it was erotic, but also because of the great depiction of the two main characters' psychological development.
"Miss Al...!"
"Well, yes... it is a very... erotic story."
"Haha..."
I couldn't help but give a bitter smile. But then, she said:
"But... I don't think of you as 'dirty' at all. On the contrary... I'm glad that I got to know a side of you that I didn't know before."
With that, she took a breath, looked at me in the eye, and said,
"I... I want to know more about you, Mister Kazuo! And... I want you to know more about me, too..."
("Don't misunderstand! Don't misunderstand! Don't misunderstand! Don't misunderstand...!")
As I was being stared at by her clear, ruby-red eyes, I desperately tried to tell myself not to misunderstand. How many times had I made a fool of myself by misconstruing a woman's kindness or friendship as romantic feelings for me? Of course, she was not the type to flirt or toy with others intentionally. But at the same time, she was innocent. She was a natural. She was just simply saying: "Let's get to know each other better, let's become friends". Because she was so innocent and natural, she didn't realize that saying "I want to know more about you, and I want you to know more about me" right after talking about an erotic novel could easily lead most men to misunderstand...
"Um, Miss Al..."
Just as I was about to move the conversation along, it happened:
"Well now... why don't we get to know each other more deeply too...?"
"Hehehe...!"
Before we knew it, we were surrounded by a group of ten or so men who had emerged from the trees, with the river at our backs.
Their menacing looks.
Their rugged builds.
The weapons in their hands.
Bandits...!
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