The Paradoxical Witch

Stories

## Illustrations

## Chapter 1: The Secret of Demon N

1.

Fifth period. So sleepy.

Was it because of lunch, or was this hour simply meant for a nap? I couldn't sort out the reason. I was sleepy, that was all.

If you're sleepy, don't force yourself.

But in a classroom, even when everyone around you is bright and alert, you still can't help wearing a face heavy with sleep.

And so I, Meigetsu Shiro (because the brother and sister share the same characters in their names, Xiaomi suggested rendering the younger brother as Shiro and the older sister as Sora; the same applies below), made it only halfway through and then skipped this math class that made a person far too drowsy.

Luckily my seat was the third from the back, on the side facing the corridor. Slipping out of the classroom was no great difficulty.

While the teacher faced the blackboard and the chalk clicked and scraped, I opened the window and flipped out lightly. There were a few students in the corridor, but fortunately none who would run and tell the teacher.

I wandered slowly along the corridor (keeping, of course, below the height of the windows, careful not to enter a teacher's line of sight), climbed the stairs, and came to a door hung with a notice forbidding entry.

The door was locked.

The lock, though, was a decidedly shoddy product. Another key might have been tried on it; a simple little tool and a bit of technique were enough.

Three seconds, and the lock was dealt with. I stepped up onto the roof.

From the roof of Municipal Aizome High School, built on high ground, you could see, in this season, lush maples and ginkgo. Vermilion, yellow—a view absolutely worth boasting of.

Only because the town was built into nature could you see a landscape like this, and, not far off, a beautiful blue-green sea. The town was famous for the richness of its colors, too.

For this view as well, ...

## Chapter 2: The Songstress Runs Wild

It was something that happened without warning.

By the time I had prepared myself, it was already too late.

When she was taken away in a black four-wheeled car, I was wounded and could not move at all.

No. Rather than say I could not move, it would be truer to say I had taken a fatal wound.

My consciousness grew dim. All I could feel was pain beyond bearing through my whole body.

If I closed my eyes like this, everything would be Game Over. Of that I had no doubt.

...But precisely because of that.

I could not close my eyes. I had to reach her side.

Even if it cost me my life, I would go on protecting her.

Because that was my will.

Thursday, eight o'clock. As usual, I was watching a music program.

Right now I was the only one at home. In a living room that was fairly spacious, it felt a little lonely. To forget that loneliness, I turned the volume all the way up. Though I always did that, ordinarily.

Lying on the pale blue sofa, remote in one hand, I watched the program with a moderate focus.

Today the show featured a four-piece rock band, a three-member idol unit, and also a woman known as the Songstress.

I was interested only in the rock band. To be honest, I had no interest whatsoever in idols, and even their looks offered nothing worth admiring.

Even so, there was nothing else to watch, and I had a reason I could not look away, so I didn't change the channel.

On the clear glass table sat a teacup I fancied had a certain charm. Slowly drinking the green tea in the cup, I watched this week's rankings in earnest. The thirty minutes after that...

## Chapter 3: The Principle Against Principle (Part One)

—I really want to go see your house.

I knew perfectly well that my sister always spoke this abruptly. And what she said was, for the most part, to be believed.

But now I was trapped in a witch's dwelling.

There was a basement, too, and it had a hidden door. I was still turning over whether that door ought to count as ancient, but I found the basement had no safe place where anything could be concealed.

The first thing I found was a shelf, set in a rectangular space ten meters long, fifteen meters wide, and five meters high, walled on three sides. Inside were two things like field guides; in the corner of the biology room, strange things visible to the eye alone—seaweed from a few days before, like a snake-jar; a hand unlike one the length of a middle finger; a tulip that breathed fire; and a liquid that rose and fell like waves, sealed in a bottle. (It should be added that I found this was not a right eye, but something that seemed fixed in place.)

Next to meet the eye were a bed of concrete and, drawn densely across the ceiling, red patterns like a magic square. Frightening: in the middle of a table utterly without color, utterly black, was something like a human skull, enough to make the skin crawl. On that skull sat a candle. Only thanks to this candle was the room lit at all. The candle's fire did not feel like ordinary fire. The flame burned blue as it burned, and the candle did not melt. Too strange to believe.

Thanks to that fire, I gradually stopped being afraid.

[Well, well. Enchanted, aren't you? I mean—she really is a witch, wouldn't you say?]

Faced with the unreal space before her, my sister was terribly excited.

She paced back and forth inside the room, and for a moment...

## Chapter 4: The Principle Against Principle (Continued)

1

Though her figure could no longer be seen, I still had not confirmed whether the matter was fully settled, so I could not lower my guard.

For that reason, I could go on walking Yuhai to school and home.

But because the figure was nowhere to be seen, everything I did felt slack, just as it had ten days before, without the slightest tension. How to put it—it felt the same as ordinary days. Going to school together. Coming home together.

Today I went with Yuhai to buy ingredients for dinner, and we came to the supermarket. I needed to restock the fridge anyway.

The supermarket stood on the shopping street. Come evening, housewives flocked in. We took baskets and bought our own things.

We met at the register. Both baskets were full of ingredients.

After we paid, I took a reusable bag from my tote and packed the groceries in. Yuhai was reliable, too. She carried a bag embroidered with a Halloween pumpkin.

[...Say, Yuhai, you live alone, right? What are you going to do with that much? Are you a big eater in real life?]

[As if. You've seen my lunch box, haven't you?]

Yuhai said it coolly, carefully setting the ingredients into the bag.

[Yeah. Such a tiny lunch box.]

[That's how much I eat. Morning, noon, and night, it's about that amount.]

[Then you clearly don't need this many ingredients. They won't spoil before you use them up? Especially all that sashimi.]

[I'm a witch. There's no need to be bound by that kind of common sense.]

A clear, pleasant voice, as if no one else were present.

Her expression was ice-cold, too. She seemed to be humming softly through her nose, and then again she seemed not to be.

[Come to think of it, you said there was a way to perfectly...

## Afterword

...There are no more stories I can write.

Beginning a piece this way is something I cannot help.

I tried hard to recall memories that were interesting, moving, frightening, but I could not remember a single one. I have no experience at all.

I am a person with nothing. No past worth mentioning. Every day passes like a matter of routine.

Even someone like that once thought he might write a story. I think that if a person has lived a full life, he would never wish to become a novelist.

If I had not, back then, come to know the pleasure of reading, what would have become of me?

It's a little embarrassing. But at last I truly turned my own story into a book. It was wearying work for the heart.

I really am no good at writing about myself.

I hope there will be a chance to overcome that, and to write better stories afterward.

Somehow, saying a wish has come to sound like a declaration of resolve.

Here I offer my heartfelt thanks to the examiners who gave me the chance to stand on so important a starting line, and to my colleagues in the Super Dash Bunko editorial department. I must especially thank the person in charge who turned that manuscript of mine, riddled with typos, into the book it is now. Thank you, truly.

I must also thank Inagaki Riichiro-sensei, who wrote so splendid a comment for me, and Miss Ishikawa Sae, who drew illustrations that steal the heart at a glance. For someone as clumsy as I still am, having the two of you here is a comfort.

Lastly, I thank the readers who bought this book and read it. Thank you. If only everyone can, from it...