Skrrt —
Standing on my tiptoes, I drew a satisfied line through the words Ring a doorbell and run in blue crayon.
That meant: completed.
In my last life, I couldn’t do it — too many questions of civic decency. But here, there are people who volunteer to let you ding-dong-ditch them!
To be precise — what is ding-dong ditching?
It’s the activity — deeply frowned upon by all responsible adults — where a child rings someone’s doorbell and runs away before they can answer.
“Kyaah —!”
The anticipation had me stamping my little feet against the floor without meaning to.
A bit childish, yes, but I had wanted to do this.
Strange, isn’t it, how you can let go of most regrets as you grow — but the ones from childhood leave such a stubborn trace.
In my past life, as a primary school student, I had watched other children playing outside from my window.
Back then I was confined to my room, too aware of my relatives’ eyes watching me to do otherwise.
But now I can play openly!
Ahem.
I steeled myself and walked to the third annexe of the estate, standing before a large door.
This was Knox’s room — his bedroom and private quarters, the place a man who served as Krost aide for twenty-four hours a day could rest.
Knock, knock —
I knocked with my small fist.
“…Unngh. Yes. Who is it.”
The sound of someone recently woken, stumbling toward the door.
“I can’t think who would come at this hour — not even the maids… who is it?”
He muttered perfectly to himself, and the moment Knox opened the door —
“Kyah, ding-dong-ditch!”
I stuck my tongue out at him, turned on my heel, and ran with everything I had.
“W — wha — you little—!”
A flustered Knox snatched his sleeping cap off his head and came after me.
A roller-coaster thrill seized all five senses.
This stretch — the part where you sprint on the very edge of being caught —
This was the most exhilarating, most delightful part.
Dash —
I flew down the corridor, shot through to the estate entrance, and slipped behind the open front gate, peering out from the gap with only my head showing.
“…Knox?”
Knox was not in sight.
Surely not — was he too mature for this?
The adult version of ding-dong ditch: ignoring the child who rang the bell.
For the child who did the ringing, it was practically a death sentence of anticlimax.
Knox? Really?
I’d run all this way?
Indignant, I stamped my feet and started back.
“…Knox! You said you’d play with me! …Hm?”
I retraced my steps along the corridor, and in the middle of it lay a very large man, completely flat on the ground.
Knox, face-down in his sleeping clothes. Sleeping cap still clutched in one hand.
“Knox?”
Creep, creep —
I crept toward him with small, soundless steps —
“Caught you.”
“Aaah!”
The long arm that had been lying perfectly still shot out and grabbed my ankle. I jumped as though I’d been electrocuted.
“Hah. Hah —.”
Thrilling.
Ding-dong ditch was fun when you got away with it, but it was equally fun when you got caught.
In my previous life, getting caught would have meant a trip to the police station — but this was different.
“Are you satisfied now?”
Knox, flat on the floor, lifted only his head to ask.
“Yes! Completely! Bucket list item: success!”
“That’s good news.”
He gave a small thumbs-up, and the corner of his expressionless mouth twitched fractionally upward.
“Whew. That was wonderful. Knox, let’s do it again.”
“Pardon?”
At five-years-old energy levels, I estimated I could do this at least five more times before feeling satisfied.
“Again, please. It’s fun.”
“How about we play hospital instead?”
“Hospital, what?”
Roll.
The prone Knox flipped over onto his back and lay spread-eagle, turning his head to the side with a slight twitch.
“I’ll be the patient. Young Lady Aisha will be the doctor.”
“…….”
I looked at Knox and remarked:
“Watching you lying in the corridor, I think the correct titles would be Knox as the corpse and me as the undertaker.”
At that —
“Young Lady! Young Lady! Oh, there you are!”
Mai’s voice carried down the corridor toward me from a distance.
Mai’s voice pitch going up means something good is happening.
“Mai! What is it?!”
I was in the middle of draping Knox’s white sleeping cap reverently over his face, but I stood up.
“The kitten you brought back — it woke up!”
“WHAT?!”
I’m on my way. Cat.
“Kitty!”
I screamed the words at the walls and sprinted out of the estate.
________________________________________
“She’s so happy to see it. Good thing the kitten recovered after all — hm?”
Mai watched Aisha tear off into the distance with a fond, guileless expression, then noticed something catch on her shoe and looked down.
In front of her heel, a man lay on the floor with a white cloth draped over his face.
“A — a corpse! Knight! Knight!”
Thanks to Mai’s dramatic outcry, it was the knights — rather than the self-appointed undertaker — who found Knox.
“…Just kill me. Please.”
“Pardon?!”
“Never mind.”
Surrounded by knights and Mai, Knox closed his eyes.
This was the price of letting a small child talk him into playing.
________________________________________
That same moment.
I opened the door to the physician’s room and was greeted by Delta’s warm smile.
“Welcome, Young Lady.”
“Where’s the kitten?!”
I should have said hello first — it came out before I could stop it.
Oops. That was unbecoming of a young lady.
“Hello, Physician Delta.”
I smiled politely, then immediately continued.
“So — where’s the kitten?!”
“Heh heh. I knew you’d be excited. Come and see.”
He smiled patiently and led me toward a corner near the fireplace.
The warmth from it had filled the physician’s room with a comfortable, drowsy heat.
A rattan basket sat on top of a plush rug.
Lined with a soft, warm blanket — and inside it —
Purr.
A kitten no bigger than two of my palms pressed together, curled into an ammonite spiral, deep asleep.
So cute.
Cute enough to die from.
I pressed my small hands over my mouth as my breathing grew steadily more intense.
“Is it fully recovered?”
“Completely. Very healthy indeed. It spent a while prowling around the physician’s room trying to catch mice, then just now fell asleep.”
“If it’s asleep, would it be difficult to bring it to my room?”
“Difficult? This is your kitten, Young Lady.”
Delta lifted the sleeping kitten gently.
“New kittens sleep a great deal at this age. It won’t wake easily with normal movement. Go on and bring it to your room.”
“Oh — oh wow…”
I cradled the kitten as carefully as I could, and after a brief moment of grumbling, it tucked its head into the crook of my arms.
It had been so small when I found it in the circus.
Back then its fur had been dirty and its eyes were crusted over.
Now, apparently, someone had given it a bath — its coat was white, and when I looked at its closed eyes, there wasn’t a trace of crustiness left.
“Come on, little one. Let’s go to big sis’s room.”
I carried the soft little bundle with great care and walked slowly back down the corridor.
I hadn’t officially asked Uncle for permission to keep a cat yet.
But I already added “raising a kitten” to the bucket list just in case, so I’m sure he’ll say yes.
I was walking carefully, mind elsewhere, when —
“…The Alossini in the north have been acting strangely. There seems to be—”
The sound of something serious drew people gathering.
What is this?
I turned my head, and a meeting room door was sitting slightly ajar — never fully closed.
The voices drifted through the gap like a radio left on.
“What do you mean by ‘strange’?”
Oh. Uncle’s in there too.
Interesting and curious at the same time.
Still holding the sleeping kitten, I pressed myself against the wall and leaned an ear close to the gap.
“It’s just — I heard it myself and barely believed it…”
“What is it? Stop stalling.”
“A — a Creature spoke.”
The confession was followed by a silence in the meeting room that was startling in its completeness.
I was equally speechless.
It was more than surprising — it was the kind of thing that leaves you standing with the blank feeling of having been struck on the back of the head.
“…What did it say?”
After a long pause, Uncle’s voice came again —
“It was barely more than infant babbling, Your Grace. Something like aaugh or alive-ah. That’s approximately what it sounded like.”
“Was it definitely a Creature? Are you certain?”
“It was unmistakably a quadruped, animal-type Creature — an Alossini. The violet eyes confirmed it.”
The meeting room fell quiet again.
________________________________________
Some of the attendees let out skeptical coughs.
I, meanwhile, had gone completely stiff.
The story was shifting again.
A Creature that speaks.
The novel Sword of Judgment was, at its core, a story about a male protagonist who unified two kingdoms — but running beneath everything, the single most important keyword was the Creatures.
Because the tragedy began when Calypse, who had been protecting the north, turned away from it — and the ice wall, left unmaintained, crumbled.
The protagonist defeated Calypse and took on the role of the ice wall himself, holding the Creatures back.
But if Creatures can speak — that would certainly have been mentioned in the original.
I had never read anything like that. Which meant there was only one conclusion.
Something I had done — some unconscious action — had become a butterfly’s wing that beat and beat until it changed the story into something unrecognizable.
What did I do?
I was deep in thought —
“Nyaah — mrrow.”
From inside my arms came a sleepy, endearing sound, as the kitten slowly woke.
