After the recent murder, sleep became something you couldn't afford even on credit. No, none of us slept. Sleep is wonderful, of course, especially in a good bed, but now it seemed like some kind of... crime against common sense. We sat in the living room, divided into groups, like islands in an archipelago of distrust.
Cheryl announced that Gerudo's body would be buried at first light. No one objected. No one really argued much at all — surprising how death can temporarily balance out even the most contradictory people.
Morgana... she'd already managed to come to her senses. Or at least learned to pretend she had. Semblance is a skill too. Her conversation with Aragi, like a drop of oil in water, rippled in rings through her inner world.
"At the moment Morgana is with Cheryl cleaning the kitchen, they've been there for a whole hour, perhaps it requires great effort."
The voice sounded mundane. So mundane it even scared with its normalcy. 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 this long. I suppose they're mourning his body or preparing it for swift burial."
"You're mistaken."
The word, like a shard of glass, cut into the conversation. Aragi spoke it. He'd been in the kitchen this whole time and not just been there, but helped. Not for gratitude, just... helped. Just like that, without explanations. Without applause.
"Despite the freshness of the murder, there was too much blood, scattered throughout the kitchen. It was on the dishes, we had to clean every compartment. And we wrapped the body long ago."
Just like that he said it. Without drama. Without intonation, simply stated the fact, and of course, this couldn't go without comment.
"It's great, of course, that you're climbing all over to help everyone, showing your nature, but this shouldn't concern us, participants of the grand game with the cursed witch of Ryujima."
Kamiki. His tone, like a glass filled with indifference mixed with good wine. He spoke easily, as if nothing more alarming than a wine stain on a tablecloth had occurred in the world. He continued drinking carelessly, exquisitely, as if each sip was a verdict on the rest.
"You can't tell by looking at you that anything here concerns you at all. An hour ago you turned other participants against Enua, and now you're carelessly drinking alcohol here? What if you set all this up. The murder, the axe's disappearance, and everything else?"
"Aha-ha-ha... Calm down, Aragi. I'm relaxed only because we already know who killed the chef, and he has nowhere to run."
Laughter. Crystal and dangerous, like a glass in a maniac's hand.
"He couldn't prove his alibi, unlike me and the other participants. Where do such theories about me come from? It's foolish to rely only on words that lack clear proof of what's said."
"Everything makes sense, whether you have an alibi or not. Diabolical assertions can be built on anything."
Ah, there it is, the key word. Philosophy amid chaos.
"Oh... so you know about the devil's proof? Didn't expect that from you."
"What assertions?"
This question came from Yahweh, who until now had stood aside with Hov, like two commas in a sentence no one finished reading.
"The devil's proof is just a concept for arguing with someone about the possible and the actual."
Pause. Thin as a blade. And then:
"I'll show you with the 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 isn't that paradox with Schrödinger's cat, this is much worse.
"You're certain there's something alive in it, and the other person says there isn't. You both heard rustling, saw the box shift, but then silence. Emptiness. Static," Kamiki continued. "The other person claims there was nothing in the box to begin with. Everything you heard was illusion, deception. The devil whispered to you, and you believed. That's the devil's proof. Illusion passed off as reality sometimes convinces more strongly than reality itself. And when the devil argues, he doesn't argue for truth's sake, he argues for your sake. So you'll believe that truth doesn't exist at all."
"I see... but what does that have to do with this?"
"Aragi found a reason to start discussing this out of nowhere, saying I could be involved in the murder, but alas, no matter how much you want it... you have no proof!"
Words sharp as needles. But Aragi didn't flinch.
"I meant something completely different, but you weren't planning to listen to me anyway... Listen, Yahweh, I understand your animosity toward a former enemy. You gave your entire life just to defeat Enua, went against your own ideals, which is why you agreed with everything Kamiki presented to 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 this. None of you even thought to consider that the witch could be the killer!"
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 thing, as did everyone else. Indeed, she participates in this game as both observer and killer, however even she didn't specify in the game 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 wasn't even in the game rules? This only benefits us, to eliminate competitors."
Rules. Murder. Competitors. All logical. Logical like a poorly written script — everything seems to fit, but you still don't believe it.
"Remember the rules: only one gets the answer to any question and a wish, which means only one of us can be the victor!"
"And you really believed this nonsense? That she wouldn't kill someone not on the participant list just because of the rules?! How foolish..."
Foolish. But foolish doesn't mean untrue. Truth can be foolish. And foolishness can be truth. This... cursed duality of reason.
"Everything has a reason to be... Those are your words, Aragi. Let's stick to our opinions. Soon enough we'll definitely learn everything if we work together."
Aragi was silent. 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 as if a switch clicked. Not from anger, from powerlessness.
Damn! And what did I need to do to make them believe me... I really could use your help right now... Tsubasa.
The night, as if hearing his internal monologue, finally dissolved.
The next morning.
The rain left. As if it never was. The clouds parted, and light with foolish optimism began making its way into the mansion's rooms.
Ironic. After a funeral, a ray of sunshine.
Alarm clocks. All rang simultaneously, as if someone's sick humor decided to wake them for a rehearsal of normal life.
"Aragi, apparently you handle alarm sounds easily, since you continue sleeping so soundly. Get up already, who was first to promise to help a young lady, holding her hands?"
A provocative phrase. And, of course, it worked. The young man jumped up as if someone had placed a piano under him.
"So you saw everything?! And she said, if I remember, that we could be seen and misunderstood..."
"Ah-hah... Sorry, I was just passing by and saw you two on the steps discussing something between yourselves. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."
"Hey, just so you know, there's nothing like that between us, not even close, don't think..."
"I get it, why are you worked up this morning. But you really did promise to help them first of all," Enua summed up.
"What time is it?" Aragi asked.
"Seven in the morning," Enua answered.
"I see. I'll go wash up quickly, where are the others now?"
"I just woke up myself, and I'm not eager to go out to them, you already know. From this moment on, I refuse to have conversations with any of them."
"Ah... I completely forgot. I'll definitely find a way to prove you weren't involved in the murder."
"Just go already."
In the living room the others had already gathered. Cheryl was with them. Everything looked like a scene in a theater where no one knows what play they're performing.
Before leaving, Aragi met Morgana.
"Good morning, Mister Aragi... How did you sleep?"
"Good morning, Morgana, didn't feel any particular discomfort. Just give me a reason to sleep and I'll fall asleep anywhere," Aragi said optimistically. "We agreed that from now on you'd leave these courtesies in addressing me."
"Forgive me, I really tried, but it seems it's not that simple. Since childhood we were taught to address all guests respectfully."
"Alright, nothing terrible. The others are waiting in the living room?"
"Yes. We were only waiting for your group, but I suppose Mr. Enua won't be participating..."
"Sorry. He's in a difficult situation right now, they're set against him. I'll find a way to prove his innocence. I'm more than certain he's not a killer."
"I believe you. Of all the other participants, from the very beginning you seemed to me not so..."
She stopped. As if choosing between sincerity and reason. And chose the first.
"I don't know what this feeling is, but I seemed to sense goodness emanating from you... And if you believe in your comrade's non-involvement, then I'll support you too!"
The resolve in her voice wasn't feigned. It was... dangerous. Because when a servant begins to believe more than the master, it changes the rules of the game.
"Thank you... Now I'm more than certain I'll succeed."
The funeral.
Cool wind, mud underfoot. A burst of flowers in the garden, unexpectedly alive against the backdrop of death.
"Didn't even think there was such a place here," Hov voiced his thoughts.
"Obviously, according to the stories, all this was done for the witch, with whom the first master of this island was head over heels in love," Yahweh summarized. "Not surprising to see such a garden here. Girls like that."
"Kh... Yahweh, don't pretend like you know women's preferences. I don't recall you being an expert in this matter."
"Hey, just because I spent my entire life hunting gods and killing them doesn't mean I didn't have other hobbies!"
"We're at a funeral now, no need to start arguments here!" Aragi burst into the dialogue.
"Cheryl, your arms are too thin, this work won't suit you. We'll help you, and you stand aside for now, we didn't just gather here for nothing," Yahweh said.
Yahweh and Hov took 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 participated in anyone's funeral, perhaps because of that I feel nothing. Even if I wasn't acquainted with him, this is a deceased innocent 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, tried to hold back tears. And I suddenly understood — I only regret for her sake.
We're standing here for propriety's sake, nothing more. None of us experiences true emotions.
When a close person of your acquaintance dies, you don't pity the deceased. You pity the acquaintance. You sympathize not because of death, but because of the life that remains.
"We're finished. Without power you begin to understand what it's like to work, applying only physical exertion."
"Yes, I'm tired too. Let's return to the mansion, we could even get sick."
They left. Only Morgana and Cheryl remained. Aragi had almost left... but looked up.
That's... the witch of Ryujima, Mariana!
On the second floor, behind the window, she stood smiling. A glass in her hands. Indifference in her eyes.
I need to check that place.
He ran upstairs. Stopped before a massive door.
This door is too big.
As if hiding not just a room, but an entire 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..."
"Forgive me, I called you several times before coming up. But you were standing at the door and didn't hear anything."
Was I really that intrigued...
"So what did you forget here?"
"Just... I decided to inspect the second floor. Better tell me, what is this door?"
"It's the library. All books are stored there, even magical ones. Some of them contain power that's difficult to describe in words. The first master had... a hobby, but the library has been locked for a long time. Even we can't enter."
"So even you don't have a key..."
"Uh-huh. Only Gerudo-sama had one, but we don't know where he kept it."
Right to the heart with that.
"I see. Then we have nothing 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 quickly find a way to prove his innocence, otherwise...