After the recent murder, sleep became something you couldn't even afford on credit. No, none of us slept. Sleep is great, of course, especially in a good bed, but right now it felt like... a crime against common sense. We sat in the living room, divided into groups like islands in an archipelago of distrust.
Cheryl reported that Gerudo's body would be buried at first light. No one objected. No one argued much at all, it's amazing how death can temporarily balance even the most contradictory people.
Morgana... she'd already pulled herself together. Or at least learned to pretend she had. Appearances are a skill too. Her conversation with Aragi, like a drop of oil in water, had rippled through her inner world.
"At the moment, Morgana and Cheryl are cleaning the kitchen, they've been in there for a whole hour now, maybe it takes a lot of effort."
The voice sounded ordinary. So mundane that it scared with its normality. But...
"Considering the blood wasn't dried at all and the murder happened not long before we noticed it, it shouldn't have taken them that much time. I suppose they're mourning his body or preparing it for quick burial."
"You're wrong."
The word cut into the conversation like a shard of glass. Aragi said it. He'd been in the kitchen the whole time and not just there — he'd been helping. Not for thanks, just... helping. Like that, without explanations. Without applause.
"Despite the freshness of the murder, there was too much blood, scattered all over the kitchen. It was on the dishes too, we had to clean every compartment. And we wrapped the body a while ago."
He said it that simply. Without pathos. Without intonation, just stating the fact, and of course, it couldn't go without comment.
"That's great, of course, that you're jumping in to help everyone, showing your nature, but it shouldn't concern us, the participants in this great game with the cursed witch Ryujima."
Kamiki. His tone like a glass filled with indifference mixed with fine wine. He spoke lightly, as if nothing more troubling than a wine stain on a tablecloth had happened in the world. He kept drinking carefree, elegantly, as if each sip was a sentence for the others.
"You don't look like anything here bothers you. An hour ago, you turned the other participants against Enua, and now you're casually drinking alcohol? What if you set it all up? The murder, the missing axe, and everything else?"
"Aha-ha-ha... Calm down, Aragi. I'm relaxed only because we already know who killed the cook, and he has nowhere to go."
Laughter. Crystal and dangerous, like a glass in a maniac's hand.
"He couldn't prove his alibi, unlike me and the other participants. Why these theories aimed at me? It's stupid to rely only on words without clear proof."
"Everything has meaning, whether you have an alibi or not. Devilish claims can be built on anything."
Ah, there it was, the key word. Philosophy amid chaos.
"Oo... so you know about the devil's claim? I didn't expect that from you."
"And what's that claim?"
Yahweh asked this, up until now, he'd been standing aside with Hov, like two commas in a sentence no one finished reading.
"The devil's claim is just a concept for arguing with someone about the possible and the actual."
A pause. Thin as a blade. And then:
"I'll show you with an example of a locked box. Imagine there's something alive in the box — a cat, a dog, a snake, doesn't matter."
And yes, this wasn't that Schrödinger's cat paradox, this was much worse.
"You're sure there's something alive in it, and the other says no. You both heard rustling, saw the box shift, but then silence. Emptiness. Stillness," Kamiki continued. "The other claims there was nothing in the box. Everything you heard was an illusion, a deception. The devil whispered it to you, and you believed. That's the devil's claim. An illusion passed off as reality sometimes convinces more than reality itself. And when the devil argues, he doesn't argue for truth, he argues for you. To make you believe that truth doesn't exist at all."
"Clear... but what's it got to do with this?"
"Aragi found a reason to bring this up out of nowhere, saying I could be involved in the murder, but alas, no matter how much you want it... you have no proof at all!"
Words sharp as needles. But Aragi didn't flinch.
"I meant something else entirely, but you're not even going to listen to me anyway... Listen, Yahweh, I understand your dislike for a former enemy. You gave your whole life just to defeat Enua, went against your own ideals, so you agreed with everything Kamiki fed you, pointing out that Enua was involved in the murder."
Aragi's voice didn't sound like an accuser's. No. It was the voice... of evasive hope.
"However, I refuse to accept it. None of you even thought that the killer could be the witch!"
Words like sharp pebbles underfoot. Not painful until you step on them. And when you do, it's too late.
"No, you're wrong, Aragi. I thought of her first, just like everyone else. Indeed, she's participating in this game as an observer and as a killer, but even she didn't specify in the rules that the servants are participants."
Yahweh's speech sounded like a prosecutor's monologue who already knows the verdict.
"What's the point of killing someone who isn't even in the game rules? It only benefits us, to get rid of competitors."
Rules. Murder. Competitors, all logical. Logical like a poorly written script, everything seems to add up, but you still don't believe it.
"Remember the rules: the answer to any question and a wish will go only to one, meaning only one of us can be the winner!"
"And you really believed that nonsense? That she wouldn't kill someone outside the participant list just because of the rules?! How stupid..."
Stupid. But stupid doesn't mean untrue. Truth can be stupid. And stupidity can be truth. That's... the cursed duality of reason.
"Everything has a reason to be... Those are your words, Aragi. Let's stick to our own opinions. Soon enough, we'll find out everything if we work together."
Aragi was silent. A pause, then:
"You're the only one who didn't agree that Enua killed Gerudo, and you have no proof of his innocence. Alas, we can't blindly believe you."
Inside Aragi, it was like a switch flipped. Not from anger, from helplessness.
Damn! And what did I need to do to make them believe me... Right now, I really could use your help... Tsubasa.
The night, as if hearing his inner monologue, finally dissolved.
The next morning.
The rain was gone. As if it had never been. The clouds parted, and light with foolish optimism began to creep into the mansion's rooms.
Ironic. After the funeral, a ray of sun.
Alarms. They all rang at once, as if someone's sick humor decided to wake them for a rehearsal of normal life.
"Aragi, you must handle alarm sounds easily, since you're still sleeping so soundly. Get up, who was the first to promise to help the young girl, holding her hands?"
A provocative phrase. And, of course, it worked. The young man jumped up as if someone had slipped a piano under him.
"So you saw everything?! And she said we might be seen and misunderstood..."
"Ah-hah... Sorry, I was just passing by and saw you two on the steps discussing something. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."
"Hey, if anything, there's nothing like that between us, don't think..."
"I get it, why are you so worked up this morning. But you really did promise to help them before anyone else," Enua summed up.
"What time is it now?" Aragi asked.
"Seven in the morning," Enua replied.
"Got it. I'll go wash up quick, where are the others now?"
"I just woke up myself, and I'm not eager to go out to them, you know why. From now on, I refuse to talk to any of them."
"Ah... I completely forgot. I'll definitely find a way to prove you're not involved in the murder."
"Go already."
The others had already gathered in the living room. Cheryl was with them. Everything looked like a theater scene where no one knows what play is being staged.
Before heading out, Aragi met Morgana.
"Good morning, Mister Aragi... How did you sleep?"
"Good morning, Morgana. I didn't feel any particular discomfort. Give me a reason to sleep, and I'll fall asleep anywhere," Aragi said optimistically. "We agreed that from now on, you'll drop those formalities with me."
"Sorry, I really tried, but it seems it's not that simple. We've been taught since childhood to address all guests respectfully."
"Okay, no big deal. Are the others waiting in the living room?"
"Yes. We were only waiting for your group, but I suppose Mr. Enua won't participate..."
"Sorry. He's in a tough spot right now, they're against him. I'll find a way to prove his innocence. I'm more than sure he's not the killer."
"I believe you. Out of all the other participants, from the start you seemed to me not like..."
She stopped. As if choosing between sincerity and reason. And chose the first.
"I don't know what this feeling is, but it's like I felt goodness coming from you... And since you believe in your comrade's innocence, I'll support you too!"
The determination in her voice wasn't fake. It was... dangerous. Because when a servant starts believing more than the master, it changes the rules of the game.
"Thank you... Now I'm more than sure I'll succeed."
The funeral.
Cool wind, mud underfoot. A splash of flowers in the garden, unexpectedly alive against the backdrop of death.
"I didn't even think there was a place like this here," Hov voiced his thoughts.
"Obviously, from the stories, all this was done for the witch the first owner of this island was head over heels in love with," Yahweh summed up. "No surprise to see such a garden here. Girls love that stuff."
"Khh... Yahweh, don't act like you know women's preferences. I don't recall you being an expert in that."
"Hey, just because I spent my whole life hunting gods and killing them doesn't mean I didn't have other hobbies!"
"We're at a funeral right now, no need to start arguments here!" Aragi broke into the dialogue.
"Cheryl, your hands are too thin, this work will be too much for you. We'll help you, and you stand aside for now, we didn't gather here for nothing," Yahweh said.
Yahweh and Hov took the shovels. After 15 minutes, the hole was ready. Three meters, cold, silent, final.
"I think that's enough, considering his height of 4 cubits."
A strange feeling. I've never been to anyone's funeral, maybe that's why I feel nothing. Even if I didn't know him, this is an innocent dead person. I should regret... probably. But I wasn't thinking about that; all this time I was looking at Morgana. She... held a handkerchief in her hands, trying to hold back tears. And I suddenly understood, I regret only for her sake.
We're standing here for decency, nothing more. None of us feels real emotions.
When a close person of your acquaintance dies, you don't regret the dead one. You regret the acquaintance. You sympathize not because of death, but because of the life that's left.
"We're done. Without powers, you start to understand what it's like to work with just physical effort."
"Yeah, I'm tired too. Let's head back to the mansion, we could catch a cold like this."
They left. Only Morgana and Cheryl remained. Aragi had almost left... but looked up.
That's... the witch Ryujima, Mariana!
On the second floor, behind the window, she stood and smiled. In her hands, a glass. In her eyes, indifference.
I need to check that place.
He ran upstairs. Stopped in front of a massive door.
This door is too big.
As if hiding not just a room, but a whole meaning. He reached for the handle... Locked.
Damn, of course. But you won't hide, Ryujima.
"Mister Aragi, did you forget something here?"
He flinched. Morgana, she'd already returned.
"You scared me, don't appear so suddenly..."
"Sorry, I called you several times before coming up. But you were standing at the door and didn't hear anything."
Was I that intrigued...
"So what did you forget here?"
"Oh, nothing... just decided to check out the second floor. Better tell me, what's this door?"
"This is the library. All the books are stored there, even magical ones. Some of them contain power that's hard to describe in words. The first owner had... a hobby, but the library has been locked for a long time. Even we can't enter."
"So even you don't have the key..."
"Uh-huh. It was only with Gerudo-sama, but we don't know where he kept it."
Like a knife straight to the heart from that.
"Got it. Then there's nothing for us to do here."
"The others are waiting for you in the living room. It seems they want to discuss something very important among themselves."
Probably the situation with Enua. I need to find a way to prove his innocence quickly, or else...