For Asou Akiya, ordering medicine had been the primary purpose of this visit.
Yosano Akiko was merely an unexpected bonus.
Watching Mori Ougai stand helpless before the girl's psychological trauma, Asou Akiya felt no schadenfreude. The shadows cast by war were not something that people who had never stepped onto a battlefield had the right to mock.
Although Mori Ougai's "Immortal Regiment" project had been utterly inhumane, treating soldiers as recyclable resources, his fundamental motivation had been to secure victory for the nation and for its people. Asou Akiya could not judge the ruthless mindset of wartime through the values of an era at peace.
Of course, that did not change the fact that Mori Ougai was usually a scumbag.
"She's still crying."
In front of Asou Akiya, Mori Ougai put on an expression of genuine concern.
"I'm more experienced when it comes to dealing with children. The kid at home causes trouble all the time."
Without the slightest change in expression, Asou Akiya compared Yosano Akiko to the little troublemaker in his own household, causing the perpetually single Mori Ougai to listen attentively.
Then the Port Mafia analyst said—
"At times like this, just let her cry."
"..."
"Tears aren't endless. Just make sure she stays hydrated, or give her a sleeping pill."
"...Analyst-san, that doesn't actually improve her psychological condition, does it?"
"I haven't even met her. How am I supposed to prescribe the right treatment without seeing the patient?"
Asou Akiya showed absolutely no intention of stepping into the girl's room.
That both relieved Mori Ougai and filled him with resentment at the same time.
The analyst had clearly said earlier that he had a solution!
Since he had failed to rope Mori Ougai into working for him, Asou Akiya couldn't be bothered to stay any longer.
"Alright then. Contact me when the medicine arrives."
Mori Ougai looked as though he wanted to say something, yet hesitated to speak.
Asou Akiya raised an eyebrow.
"If you change your mind, feel free to come find me before then."
In an instant, Mori Ougai reverted to his world-weary appearance, his attractiveness dropping several points as he presented Asou Akiya with the back view of a poor but principled doctor.
Asou Akiya pushed open the clinic door and left, the sound of his footsteps gradually fading into the distance.
A while later, while Mori Ougai was still worrying over his troubles, he saw Elise running over with a note in her hand.
The golden-haired little girl resembled a colorful butterfly fluttering through an otherwise gray and plain world. To Mori Ougai, she was the embodiment of all things beautiful.
Elise handed the note to Rintarou.
Mori Ougai looked down and discovered that it was a message left behind by the analyst.
[When dealing with a sad child, try taking her outside for a walk more often.
The world is still a beautiful place.
—From an Anonymous Little Office Worker]
Mori Ougai froze.
Reaching up, he scratched at the hair covering his forehead. Feeling a slight greasiness beneath his fingers, he laughed helplessly.
"Looks like I misunderstood him."
After a moment, he gave up dwelling on it.
"Elise, let's go out and buy some supplies. Before we take Akiko outside, we should make her look a little prettier."
Elise reached up with her tiny hand and poked Mori Ougai's cheek.
"Rintarou is getting old."
The remark struck directly at his heart.
Mori Ougai immediately resolved to change his ways.
To think he would be judged like that by his own little girl.
"We're going to buy men's skincare products!"
After a shower and a proper shave, he would once again become the famous heartthrob of the University of Tokyo and the handsome officer who had once turned heads throughout the military!
...
On the way home, Asou Akiya got in touch with the people at Stewed Pigeon Publishing House.
As long as he had not yet returned home, his tightly packed schedule for the day was far from over.
He instructed the publishing house to negotiate with overseas publishers and arrange for the simultaneous international release of his work, Tears of the Muse.
The editor in charge asked him which countries' publishers they should prioritize contacting.
Without the slightest hesitation, he answered:
"Britain, France, Germany, Russia, and the United States."
Unlike his previous works, this novel lacked the classic underdog-revenge elements and other tropes commonly found in wish-fulfillment stories. As a result, much of its feel-good appeal had been deliberately reduced.
Its true focus lay in exploring the human heart and the nature of love.
The most distinctive aspect of the novel was the protagonist's profession—a fashion designer.
Drawing upon the experiences of his previous life, it was not difficult for Asou Akiya to predict fashion trends that would emerge over the next decade or so. Those trends were things he had observed in everyday life and through countless online videos.
Fashion always had an expiration date.
Before a new cycle in the fashion world arrived, there would inevitably be things that became outdated and left behind by the times.
Asou Akiya knew that one day readers would grow tired of his novels.
Just like this rapidly changing era, people were always chasing the new and discarding the old. If he stopped publishing novels, readers would eventually forget him and leave him behind.
He was not a literary genius born to live by the pen.
He could not grasp the kind of brilliance that would endure for a hundred years without fading.
He did not dream of having his novels become Japanese classics or being included in school textbooks for elementary and middle school students.
However, he knew that this time he had performed beyond his usual limits and managed to ride the wave of fashion perfectly.
At the same time, he had written this work with the future "Transcendents" of Japan in mind. His gaze reached ten years into the future. The novel's greatest strength lay in its far-sighted vision, its clean and luminous prose, and a thread of kindness running through it that even surprised him when he reread it.
The publishing editor had already read the manuscript while preparing the sample copies. Unable to contain his excitement, he said:
"Reader-sensei, you should write more novels set in the fashion world in the future! I'm not criticizing your previous works, but stories like this are much more likely to cause a sensation!"
Leaving aside concepts like the "Little Fragrance Style," the novel's descriptions of luxury handbags alone had already struck directly at his wife's interests.
Every day, she kept asking him when he was going to buy her an imported crocodile-skin handbag.
As for that platinum crocodile handbag supposedly worth several million U.S. dollars, he had never even heard of such a thing before.
How could a handbag possibly cost that much?!
As a man, he simply could not understand women's madness.
Yet according to Reader-sensei's descriptions, when socialites and wealthy ladies carried such bags, their entire status seemed elevated, as though they had acquired a glittering badge of prestige.
The novel even mentioned that, in order to buy a handbag from that luxury brand, customers first had to purchase a variety of other items from the store. Only after spending enough money to reach a certain threshold would they become eligible to purchase one of the brand's handbags.
Whether it was the marketing strategy or the understanding of fashion displayed in the novel, it had completely broadened his horizons.
At one point, he had even mistaken it for something that actually existed.
The editor had specifically gone out of his way to verify it.
No such outrageously absurd luxury handbag existed in the real world.
It was a Parisian luxury brand entirely invented by Asou Akiya!
"You're giving me too much credit."
Asou Akiya had no way of accurately predicting what sort of trends the novel might inspire.
At most, he guessed that it would be well received by overseas readers.
As for domestic readers...
Well.
Japanese readers generally preferred chuunibyou-style elements.
Raising a hand to suppress the editor's excessive enthusiasm, Asou Akiya asked about someone else.
"Has Odasaku… ahem, has Oda Sakunosuke written any new novels?"
The publishing editor's eyes immediately turned lifeless, like those of a dead fish.
"No."
"He seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth."
Asou Akiya blinked.
"Hm?"
The publishing editor let out a cold laugh.
"To be honest, he's just procrastinating. The moment he received his first royalty payment, he lost all motivation to write. I even went to his home address to look for him, only to find him reading other people's novels instead of writing his own!"
Asou Akiya: "..."
In his mind, an image of a pigeon-spirit version of Oda Sakunosuke immediately appeared.
After becoming unemployed, Oda Sakunosuke sat around with a novel in his hands, completely engrossed in reading. He had no interest whatsoever in writing himself, all while dressing it up as a passion for learning.
The thought inevitably made Asou Akiya consider the mysterious buff effect brought about by prison.
Why was it that you only could write once you were thrown into prison?
Yet in a normal environment, you somehow managed to drag things out until even the Boss Dazai of the IF timeline was about to jump off a building before finally producing a debut novel!
Oda Sakunosuke, you'd better be careful.
If the Boss Dazai from next door ever discovers the true source of your creative motivation, he might start inviting you to prison whenever inspiration runs dry.
That guy waited so long for your novel that he eventually became unwilling to die.
Poor Boss Dazai.
Truly pitiful.
"I'll teach you a trick."
Now that the publishing house belonged to him, Asou Akiya generously offered the editor a suggestion.
"As long as you stop him from eating curry rice, he'll eventually feel motivated to write."
The editor suddenly understood.
"So he's obsessed with curry rice?"
"Excellent. We've found his weakness! Thank you, Reader-sensei!"
The publishing editor rubbed his hands together eagerly.
He simply couldn't bear to watch a promising newcomer waste his talent.
After all, even Reader-sensei worked so diligently!
"I wish you luck."
Having resolved all of the publishing-related matters, Asou Akiya smiled and waved goodbye.
...
He returned home feeling completely unburdened.
Randou was sitting on the sofa.
His loose cream-colored loungewear draped comfortably over his body. Around his neck hung a delicate chain, and the gold-green gemstone that was usually hidden beneath his clothes was, on this rare occasion, resting outside his shirt against the round collar.
There was nothing cold or oppressive about his appearance.
Freed from the fate of the original story, the soft cotton fabric outlined the French young man's excellent physique.
His lover of four years lowered the foreign magazine he had been reading and offered him an elegant smile.
For a fleeting moment, time itself seemed capable of freezing into a photograph.
"Welcome home."
How wonderful it would be if, five years from now, he could still hear those same words.
Asou Akiya exchanged a cheek kiss with him, treating Japan as though it were romantic France.
They loved each other at every moment.
Which was precisely why he would never cheat on him.
Who in the world could possibly compare to his wife?
He believed Randou felt the same way. When his own light shone brighter than anyone else's, how could Randou's gaze possibly wander to a second person?
"Randou, I've handed Tears of the Muse over to the publishing house for distribution. Before long, you'll be able to see my work published in your homeland. A great many people are going to become my fans."
"You're that confident it'll become a hit?"
"Of course. Because it's France. I wrote it specifically with them in mind!"
A private custom-made work from the Port Mafia's Analyst.
Guaranteed to overwhelm any designated target.
After all, he was the legendary fashion guru and soulmate extraordinaire.
Randou found himself looking forward to the reactions of the people in his homeland, now little more than hazy figures in his memories. Their responses would soothe some of the loneliness brought on by his inability to return home.
Taking advantage of his own reputation, he said:
"Akiya, I want to help promote it too. Remember to mention in the recommendations that one of the poems in the novel is my work."
"Of course."
Asou Akiya smiled softly.
"Even if you hadn't said anything, I would have written it."
He would never claim ownership of any of Randou's works.
The brilliance of his lover's poetic talent was something he had personally helped rekindle.
He could not bear to let even the slightest breeze extinguish it.
"How long will it take before people can read it?"
Randou appeared calm on the surface, but in reality he was an impatient person.
"At the earliest, about three months. Just be patient a little longer."
Asou Akiya picked up the magazine resting on Randou's knees, intending to learn more about his lover's latest interests.
"Is there anything you've been wanting to buy recently?"
For the time being, Randou's salary card was incapable of supporting any major spending.
He was still being supported by Akiya.
Asou Akiya took great pleasure in being able to provide for Randou, and Randou was equally happy.
His judgment had been excellent.
Being with Akiya fulfilled every emotional and material desire an ordinary person could have.
There was no need for pointless politeness between them.
Randou simply pointed at one of the newest items featured in the magazine.
"I want that."
Asou Akiya answered gently:
"Alright."
He would never make him live like an ordinary wife, carefully pinching pennies and calculating every expense, gritting his teeth as he spent an entire year's savings just to buy one thing he truly liked.
Randou's attention shifted to Akiya's work.
"Did the Boss make things difficult for you today?"
"The same as always," Asou Akiya replied. "His moods are unpredictable—good one moment, bad the next. Fortunately, he trusts me fairly well. It seems the Port Mafia has managed to get in touch with an ability doctor, and they're currently negotiating."
Then Asou Akiya teased him.
"Didn't you ask Nishida-kun about what was happening around me?"
Randou refused to acknowledge that the man was effectively his informant.
"Although he is my humanoid ability, we're both working for the Port Mafia. As long as I have no intention of changing jobs, I won't casually summon him whenever I please."
Resting his shoulder against Randou's body, Asou Akiya said,
"I'm sorry for occupying your slot."
Hearing the word slot, Randou only belatedly realized that Akiya was referring to his ability to control humanoid ability constructs.
He could only control one humanoid ability at a time.
As a result, the household's "part-time worker" could not appear very often.
It was not a major issue.
At worst, they could simply hire an ordinary cleaning service to take care of the housework.
Seeing that Randou did not mind, Asou Akiya remembered something he had already planned.
February 14th was Valentine's Day in the West.
With a smile, he said,
"Would I have the honor of inviting Monsieur Randou out for coffee on February 14th?"
Randou responded with a question of his own.
"The usual place?"
Lowering his voice, Asou Akiya spoke the secret phrase that belonged only to the two of them.
"The usual place."
Randou intertwined their fingers together.
"Our rings are getting a little old, darling. Have you thought about replacing them?"
Asou Akiya laughed softly.
"Your wish is my wish."
...
February 14th.
On the first floor of an old four-story red-brick building stood the Café Uzumaki.
The couple returned there once again, enjoying the happiness of Valentine's Day together.
A bouquet of roses in full, passionate bloom now rested upon their table.
Asou Akiya had ordered them in advance.
When the café owner saw the two of them arrive, he personally prepared coffee tailored to their tastes.
The aroma of the coffee seemed more alluring with every passing year, as though proving the truth of a certain saying:
Time itself deepens fragrance.
Randou suddenly felt as though he might be growing old.
Otherwise, why was it that he kept remembering things Akiya had said long ago?
"Akiya," he said softly, "you've made me feel as though these four years have been an entire lifetime."
"I'm the lucky one, then."
Asou Akiya waggled his eyebrows playfully.
"To think I managed to win Monsieur Randou's entire lifetime with just four years."
"Without children around and without interruptions, it's much more relaxing being alone with you."
There was a meaningful undertone to Randou's words.
Asou Akiya immediately replied,
"That's because comparison creates beauty. If Ranpo and Chuuya weren't constantly chattering in our ears, how would you ever realize the advantages of quietly spending time with me?"
Randou lifted his coffee and took a sip.
"That's sophistry."
Asou Akiya cheerfully accepted the remark as though it were praise.
"Does it taste good?"
Randou answered,
"Yes. It gets better every year. The owner has put a lot of care into it."
He turned his gaze toward the café owner, who was concentrating on his coffee-making.
The owner responded with a restrained and courteous smile.
For the proprietor of a café, there could be no greater encouragement or compliment than that.
Today, of course, was filled with the atmosphere of a special holiday.
"Happy Valentine's Day."
Amid the gasps of surprise and curious glances from the other customers in the café, Asou Akiya took out a velvet box containing a gift.
Taking hold of Randou's hand, he carefully removed the ring that had adorned his finger for four years and replaced it with a new one.
Randou admired the diamond ring now resting on his finger, perfectly suited to his aesthetic tastes.
The joy on his face was impossible to conceal.
Then he heard Akiya say:
"Next time, the ring you'll be wearing will be a wedding ring."
Next time...
We will get married.
We'll go abroad.
To Spain.
To France.
Wherever marriage is legal, that's where we'll go...
...
It was said that a person's life was only truly complete after receiving three rings.
One ring for courtship.
One ring to seal a relationship.
And one ring for marriage.
Now, Randou was missing only one ring.
Soon.
Very soon.
Only then did he suddenly realize just how close the fulfillment that everyone sought truly was.
It was like the final destination at the end of a voyage.
There were no storms.
No rough seas.
No violent waves.
And yet, before he knew it, he was already about to arrive at his destination.
Having a Japanese boyfriend is wonderful!
...
Tears of the Muse:
What are the tears shed by the Muse?
They are art and love.
— Reader (Asou Akiya)