Chick 348
by Cristae348
Mephisto sat glumly atop a tree branch.
Bailach’s words echoed in his chest, that all of it—from beginning to end—had been his fault.
“Peep…” (Perhaps he’s right…)
Just then, a carriage entered the castle grounds.
It was a familiar carriage.
“Peep?” (Is it that day already?)
As if to confirm his suspicions, a child with white hair stepped down from the carriage.
It was Mephisto of the past.
Announcing she was going out for a walk, On Groo dashed in the direction where Mephi had disappeared.
“Bayee, where’s Mephi?”
The hamster running alongside her averted his gaze with a flick.
“Myu, myu-myu!” (How would I know where that fellow is!)
Put off by his indifferent attitude, On Groo suddenly came to a stop.
With a face full of discontent, she grabbed the hamster in both hands and lifted him up.
Her eyes, blazing, stared right through the hamster’s star-shaped pupils.
“Bayee.”
“……”
“Why did you fight? Did you say something nasty to Mephi again?”
“Myu.” (Nasty words, you say.)
Slipping from On Groo’s hands, Bailach reverted to his original form and spoke.
“It was all the truth. That fellow called Shea Father and followed him, yet he was the one who sealed him with the sword. He also stood by and watched as the Tower was built.”
“…Hmm.”
So that had happened. Why, though? Why had Mephisto done it?
“Did you at least ask Mephi why he did it?”
“No need to hear it!”
“Eh…”
Bailach threw out an excuse, looking at On Groo’s disapproving face.
“I never got on well with him, anyway—”
Just then, a white fledgling soared past overhead.
“Oh, Mephi?”
As On Groo pointed skyward, Bailach transformed into a hamster and hurried after him.
On Groo trotted along behind.
A heavy silence hung in the drawing room.
The white-haired boy and the dark-clad man sat across from each other, each sipping tea and reviewing papers, acting as though the other was invisible.
Any bystander would have thought the two had no intention of speaking.
Peeking through a partially open door from a distance, On Groo gaped in disbelief at the stifling silence.
It seemed Mephisto and Bailach had never gotten along, right from the start.
Not even a simple greeting passed between them; not a single word.
“Kyuu…” (Not a word.)
Lucifer, Yurian, and On Groo turned to look at the hamster and the fledgling in turn.
Self-conscious, the two avoided their gazes, looking away.
“Is His Majesty still not well?”
At long last, Bailach broke the silence.
Mephisto gave a small nod, voice rough in his tightening throat.
“…Not yet.”
“I see…”
“……”
And once again, both fell quiet, the room settling into silence.
It would not have been strange for the meeting to end there.
On Groo gave the hamster and fledgling a look of exasperation.
Finally, the fledgling turned and trudged away.
He knew how this conversation would end.
They wouldn’t speak at all—the meeting would end wordlessly, as always.
The ugly hamster watched the white fledgling walking away.
“……”
“……”
Neither in the past nor in the present had the two ever managed to broach the topic of that day.
Suddenly—
“Peep?!”
“Myut?!”
On Groo scooped the hamster and fledgling up in both hands.
“…?!”
Clutching them tightly, On Groo dashed back to her room and slammed the door shut. Setting them on the table across from each other, she demanded:
“Mephi gets to speak first. What did you come here to say?”
“Peep!” (What’s the point in telling someone like him now?!)
“Myu-myu-myu! Myut!” (That’s my line! It’s all pointless now—and it’s your fault!)
Bang!
On Groo glared and rapped the table with her staff.
Instantly, supple branches sprang up and bound the fledgling and hamster, forcing them into human form and seating them tightly together.
“……”
“……”
For a moment, confused by their sudden predicament, the two sat staring at each other—
“You made Groo angry!”
“Me? You’re the one who just sat there mute!”
Immediately, they began to bicker loudly.
“And why do you think I kept silent?!”
“Like I care! You came for me yourself—so you should have spoken first!”
“You never had the slightest intention of listening to me, did you?!”
“Ha! No doubt it would have been nonsense anyway! Just a brat trailing after that lunatic second child!”
Mephisto’s face colored with fury, red and green.
But it was brief. Lowering his eyes, he fell silent for a long moment, then spoke in a subdued voice.
“See? You’d never have listened anyway. I knew as much. That’s why I never said anything and just left. No point in trying. You always hated me, after all.”
“……”
This time, it was Bailach who fell silent.
The words, piercing his true feelings, left him with nothing to say.
Yes, he had hated him.
At the time, Bailach had been consumed with loyalty to Shea. He’d also harbored jealousy towards Shea’s final familiar, made with all of Shea’s power.
The power to open the snowfield; the Monarch’s title given to Mephisto alone.
As if it was Mephisto who would be his heir.
And then, Mephisto even called Shea “Father.”
Bailach had coveted everything Mephisto possessed—a mere child, and yet he hated him, envied him.
He’d never realized Mephisto had seen through it all.
Bailach rubbed his forehead awkwardly, embarrassed.
Even though he was older, more experienced, he never wanted to admit having such petty feelings.
“…So, what was it you wanted to say to me today?”
Bailach glared at the hesitating Mephisto, still holding his grudge.
But when he thought about it, Mephisto was hardly different in age from his young master.
Even in the past, now as then, Mephisto was only a handful of years old—he had lived less than a decade.
Before, regardless of any of that, Bailach had simply hated him.
“Now I’m willing to listen, so—say what you want to say.”
Now, he did not hate him quite so much.
Mephisto muttered, finding Bailach’s unexpectedly gentle tone jarring.
“And now you play the kind one! Spit it out already!”
Bailach snapped, and Mephisto turned his head away, mumbling small.
“I… was given a sword…”
“A sword? From the second?”
Mephisto nodded.
“But… he said the choice was up to me…”
Ha! Bailach snorted.
“You were manipulated. That sly devil knew what he was doing—gave you the sword to stab Lord Shea.”
Mephisto’s gaze wavered.
Watching him, Bailach ground his teeth. Still so naïve…!
Frustration bubbled over into a deep sigh.
It was only supposed to be about listening, wasn’t it…
On Groo, having left the two alone to talk undisturbed, spun the staff thoughtfully in her hands.
‘This thing…’
It felt like… a magic staff?
When she’d struck the table with it earlier, branches had sprung up from nowhere, binding Mephisto and Bailach tightly.
She had been quite startled at the time.
‘Really, I just wanted Mephisto and Bailach to quiet down!’
Could it be some enchanted staff belonging to Bailach?
“Where are you going?”
Eep!
Startled, On Groo clutched the staff tightly in both hands.
“Nos?”
“Yes, Witch.”
“Uh… I just stepped out for a walk.”
“I see. You must not know your way around yet—shall I escort you?”
“Um.”
Nod, nod. As On Groo agreed, Nos approached.
From behind those slender, crescent moon eyes, On Groo felt the weight of observation.
“So—what are you doing here, Nos?”
At her question, Nos smiled, her long eyes folding into gentle arcs.
“I’m looking for something I lost.”
Her cold hand touched On Groo’s face.
Her thumb gently caressed the edge of the child’s eye.
“Lost something? What is it?”
Once again, Nos smiled.
“Witch, would you help me find it?”
“…Uh…”
On Groo’s lips parted in hesitant confusion.
Ding!