All That Fighting (2)
Habitz regained consciousness three days later. He hadn't died, but Valkan wondered whether that was truly the case.
'What if he took his own life?' Or something equivalent.
"This is deadly boring. When do we actually get to fight?"
Sumodo shifted restlessly.
"You've already missed the timing. The next advance will be after all the corps commanders are summoned."
"This is insane. Anything fun going on?" Zetaro asked.
"There's nothing we can do for now. Find something to do inside the barracks."
"Damn it! Fine — Natasha. Come with me." Zetaro said.
Natasha pointed at herself. "Why me? I'm tired."
"What's wrong with being a friend?"
Sumodo grabbed Natasha's wrist without warning and dragged her into a room.
"Eeek."
Natasha followed with a pout, and Zetaro shrugged and went for a walk.
Only Valkan stayed behind, watching Habitz squat outside the tent.
'I wonder what he's thinking.' A woman's voice said.
"Can I move already?"
The woman approaching, nursing a baby at her breast, was Deris. She was thinner than when they'd first met.
"Why? Are you worried?"
"Not really."
Deris rocked the infant and asked, "Why are you people fighting? You lot seem obsessed with killing someone."
"If you don't like it, you can leave, can't you?"
"Where would I go? Where else treats me this well? I feel like a queen here."
"Then you're on our side too."
Deris glanced back at Habitz. "He doesn't seem like a bad person."
"Good and evil are just human standards used to judge other humans. If there were only one person in the world, neither good nor evil could be committed."
Because there would be no one else.
"Of course, killing people is bad. But from a cosmic perspective, there's no fundamental difference between killing someone and kicking a stone in the street."
"Why look from a cosmic perspective?"
"…Because the answer is there." Where do humans come from?
"There can be people like me. I just thought it would be easier to leave a single evil than have everyone trying to be good all the time."
Valkan pointed at Habitz. "You said he didn't seem like a bad guy? That's because Habitz carries an evil that transcends humanity. Killing a hundred million people, raping women — those kinds of evils presuppose other people."
"Is he different then?"
"Habitz's thinking assumes a state where all humans are gone. His desire is so immense that it looks like he desires nothing at all. Of course, if humanity were to vanish, the standards of good and evil that could judge him would disappear completely…"
Deris fell silent, not understanding, and Valkan drifted into thought.
'They said they're connected.'
Link.
If humans formed a unified mental system, the standards of good and evil would vanish.
'No — haven't they already achieved that?' The Gaian people had reached the ultimate.
'Something that once existed but was lost. A certain incident that evaporated between Gaia and humans.'
Missing link.
'What happened?'
Why are humans split into so many individual personalities, fighting over standards of right and wrong?
The first humans must have known.
Maya, who had made a name for herself in the world beauty pageant, had bookings for countless events abroad. Of course, most of those countries were gone now.
"Damn it! How unlucky can we get!"
At a meeting of Maya's team, Palmes, head of the agency, exploded.
"It could've been huge! If we hadn't been beaten by the demon race, we'd have made a fortune!"
"How can you talk about money with so many victims? At least Tormia still stands," the coordinator said.
"Our agency even donated to the memorial fund. People who survived still have to live. All the events were canceled; at this rate the company will go under," the manager said.
"Why don't we change our angle? Events keep getting canceled, but morale-boosting performances are in demand. If we tie a show to the holy war and perform for the soldiers…"
"Ooh?"
Palmes' eyes lit up. "Not bad. No, scratch that — this will definitely work with Maya."
She had the voice and the looks.
"The problem is the competition is fierce. Even if the front offers, you can't make soldiers go wild with singing alone."
There was one sticking point.
"You mean exposure," the coordinator said.
"It's not just how much skin. I saw a morale show before. It wasn't the amount of skin — it was how provocatively they danced. I felt my face burn just watching."
"Really? How did they react?"
"It was insane. The cheering was so loud I thought my eardrums would burst."
Maya bit her lip and thought. The manager watched and said, "We have to meet that level. The Valkyries are the army. If she can't raise the soldiers' morale, they won't hire Maya."
Palmes, who secretly liked Maya, didn't like the idea. But he was a planner.
'You can't ignore what the audience wants. You have to compromise to a degree.'
It would be good for Maya too.
"Let's think about a costume that suits the song. Not too sexy — lively but healthy." Maya's team huddled and sketched a concept.
"We'll show the shoulders, the collarbone, and the upper chest. Instead of undershorts, make the skirt as short as possible."
The key was the chest.
"Maya, what do you think?"
As expected, she stayed silent. Palmes clasped his hands and put on a pleading expression. "I know you want to win with your singing. I promised you that. But you have to seize the moment while your name is hot. Just the upper chest, okay? Let's stop right there."
"That's not going to work."
Palmes sighed. "Sigh. Okay, honestly, I…"
"Listen to the end. This is too half-hearted. There's no distinction."
Maya, who'd staked her life on singing, felt she at least had to try her limits.
"If we lower the line any more…"
Popularity would explode, but the agency couldn't burn their diva like that.
"How about this instead? Rather than covering the top of the breasts, we show the underside," Maya said, moving her arms at chest height.
"Huh? The underside?"
At first no one understood. As the image formed, a thrill ran through the room like a lightning strike.
"…That's insanely sexy."
The coordinator and manager nodded. It was only a matter of top versus bottom, but no one had tried that cut before.
Palmes, dumbstruck, asked, "Maya, are you really sure?"
"Honestly it's unfamiliar, but with practice…"
"No — I mean the breasts themselves. What do I say — the line? They need to have some firmness."
"Yes, well…"
She'd never thought about it.
"They're just women's breasts."
That much pride was enough.
"Done. It's settled! This will definitely sell! Manager, get the choreography started; coordinator, begin making the costume! I'll go meet the Valkyrie people."
Palmes ran out of the room in a frenzy.
Three days later, a scheduled performance was held in Vashka, the capital of Tormia. Though entertainers' opportunities had dwindled because of the war, Maya remained popular in Tormia.
"Introducing! The newcomer singer who took the world beauty contest by storm — Maya!"
Cheers and voices rose from all around.
"Sis! I love you!"
"Maya! My love Maya! Please wave!"
About a thousand people had gathered, and in a corner sat an officer from the Valkyrie military band.
"Bandmaster, will it be okay? There are so many refugee entertainers that we're already at capacity."
There's never enough for a war, but too many performers would dilute the soldiers' attention.
"We can't just sit on our hands. We have to hope a proper idol shows up."
Backstage, Palmes was pale and trembling with nerves.
"What if something goes wrong? Can she do it?"
The coordinator tried to calm him. "You're being oddly nervous. We know Maya's skill."
"Her skill, yes. But that's not what's at stake this time. Will it really work? It will, right?"
The manager wet his dry lips. "Let's leave it to the gods. We've done everything we can."
The intro played, the spotlight hit, and Maya appeared in a coat.
From the sky like a shower… her self-written "Light Rain."
To fit the costume concept, they arranged the opening as a ballad. Her voice, full of aching longing, hushed the crowd's breathing.
'Siok.'
Is he still roaming the battlefield, fighting?
'I'm coming to meet you.'
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
When the intense drum beat restored the original tempo, the crowd erupted.
"This is it!"
Maya tore off her coat and lifted her voice.
Light, come down!
For a moment the cheer faltered at the shock of the costume — then—
"Wooooaaaa!"
Like a downpour, a thousand throats exploded in unison.
Her outfit's collar rose to the throat, and at the point just below the breasts the fabric was bluntly cut away.
Her waist and navel were exposed, but the actual exposed area of the breasts wasn't large — about three centimeters.
The audience went wild over that three centimeters.
"Maya! Maya!"
As everyone shouted, Maya unleashed a high note in a near-trance.
"Maya! Maya!"
In that moment there was no demon race, no war — only the rhythm.
Amid the ear-splitting volume that struck the heart, the only ones who stayed expressionless were the Valkyrie military band.
"Not bad at all. Her singing is top tier. Bandmaster, what's your call?" The bandmaster had watched Maya perform and finally spoke.
"Sign her. Deploy her to the frontlines starting tomorrow."
"Understood."
The adjutant opened a file and wrote Maya's name.
Backstage, chaos reigned as the audience went wild.
"Eek! Eek! This is amazing!" The manager and coordinator grabbed hands and hopped.
Light, come down!
Palmes, who'd been foolishly copying Maya's choreography, saw them and exploded. "Hey! What are you two doing? Hurry up and go buy whatever — stands or anything that'll let us rake in the cash!"
"Huh? Why all of a sudden?"
They blinked, and Palmes rubbed his fingers together relentlessly and shouted, "We have to scoop up the money! Hahahaha!"
The manager and coordinator realized. "Oh, right! We have to scoop up the money! Ho ho ho ho!"
Maya's song reached its climax, but the crowd's voices were so loud it was almost inaudible.
"Maya! We love you!"
Another graduate of the Alpheas School of Magic enlisted in the holy war.