From the room next door, where Zoë and the others were, screams erupted. A heavy thud shook the entire house.
I tensed, ready for anything. But Abby, still lounging in the bath as if nothing had happened, clapped her hands together and laughed.
“They did it! They finally did it. Who do you think it was? My bet’s on Ashita.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Eva, of course. That one’s been hating you from the start.”
“…”
Sharp as ever. Abby had noticed and deliberately let it be.
“See, cat beastkin have this nasty little habit.”
“Bad habit?”
“What a surprise. You’re smart, but sometimes you act like you don’t know a thing.”
“…”
Harsh words—but she was right. I wasn’t of this world. Its culture still slipped through my fingers.
Abby softened, like speaking to a child.
“Cat beastkin… they tend to ‘stick together.’”
It clicked.
“…I see. Strong kinship, but turned inward, it becomes exclusion. Outsiders are shunned.”
At last, I understood why Cat-girl loathed me. I was the newcomer who, in just three days, had risen to second rank. To someone with such tribal loyalty, I was an intruder to be expelled.
“Well, cats are clever, and they’ve got magic. Plenty of talent, really.”
Abby’s tone hardened.
“But you’re right. We’re still a small, weak pack. If we don’t stick together, we won’t survive. It was time to remind them of that.”
“I see. Though honestly, I wouldn’t have minded letting it slide…”
She rose from the bath, water dripping from her body, planted her hands on her hips, and faced me.
“It is a problem. You hate Eva and Ashita, don’t you?”
It wasn’t something I’d hidden, but she proved herself a true leader—watching closely even while pretending not to.
I nodded.
“I have my likes and dislikes. Sometimes I feel joy. Sometimes I feel disgust. And when I do, it helps to have a trash bin to throw the filth into.”
That’s why—I always prepare several bins. Somewhere to discard rotten feelings.
Abby’s eyes softened, almost with pity.
“Those two are old-timers. They’ve got pride in front of the others. Especially Ashita—her strength is her only worth. So when a newcomer, male at that, outranked her, of course, she bristled.”
That explained Oni-girl’s awkward, half-hearted hostility. Still—
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t mind being hated. In fact, I’d rather they stay that way.”
Abby’s eyes drooped further, almost teary. I expected a threat, but she pleaded instead.
“…Please. Forgive them, just this once.”
“No. I need those trash bins.”
I was just a man. Flaws and virtues alike. To cherish what I truly valued, I needed somewhere to dump the rot.
“Anyone who hates no one, who despises no one, cannot love anyone, either.”
I’d lived for thirty years. Not once had this philosophy inconvenienced me.
“I want to remain someone who can love.”
Even Mother Asclepia has said, Fairness does not mean impartiality.
My way of life had divine sanction.
“So tell me, Abby. What do you take me for? Some clown who smiles while being kicked around?”
Her face froze, voice trembling.
“B-but… you’re close to a god, so I thought—”
“Don’t be foolish. Perfection belongs to the divine law. Not to a man.”
So that was it. She’d mistaken me for some god’s envoy.
But one who neither hates nor loves belongs only in a coffin.
This talk had been worthwhile—at least I’d broken her illusion.
◇◆
Good or evil, pure or corrupt—every human carries both. And in both, there lies the seed of self-destruction. It does not matter whether one is a saint or a sinner.
—Words of Asclepia.
◇◆
I hurried to the next room, slamming the door open.
At the center, Zoë and the Cat-girl, Eva, faced each other, locked in a tense standoff.
“Tch.”
The other kids had spread into a ring around them, jeering like spectators.
“Zo~ee! Zoë! Zoë~!”
“Eva! Eva! Eva!”
Zoë’s back was to me, her face hidden. Eva’s fur bristled, eyes blazing with murderous intent. Neither wavered.
I considered intervening, but held back. I had no right to meddle if Abby had approved it.
Then, in an instant, Eva lunged.
Lightning-fast, she darted across the room, claws flashing, raking at Zoë again and again.
Blood sprayed.
Zoë crouched, arms crossed, guarding her head and vital points, waiting for an opening.
This is bad!
It was clear she couldn’t match Eva’s speed.
Among the rowdy chorus, Ashita just stood, gawking between me and the fight.
“Oni-girl! Why aren’t you stopping them?”
She flinched.
“N-no, it’s just—!”
Her half-hearted dithering only fueled my anger.
“What are you? Whose side are you even on?”
Meanwhile, Zoë endured blow after blow. At this rate, she’d collapse.
I was about to throw myself between them when Ashita yanked my arm back.
“Don’t! It’s too dangerous!!”
“Shut up! Useless brute! Strength’s supposed to be your selling point—use it!”
“T-that’s—!”
She fumbled for words, unable to answer.
Pathetic.
I fell silent. Talking to her was a waste.
Still, she clung to my arm desperately, trembling.
Frustration boiled over. I shouted.
“Zoë!!!”
At the cry, Zoë’s battered shoulders quivered.
Eva hissed like a wild beast, claws aimed for the kill.
That was the instant Zoë struck.
The fight ended in a single breath.
She had waited—timed it perfectly for the moment Eva lunged.
From where I stood, it looked like Zoë simply swung her arms wide. But the impact was devastating.
With a thunderous crash, Eva’s body blasted through the wall, leaving a gaping hole into the next room.
It was a counter. Zoë had swatted the claws aside and landed a perfect punch at the same instant.
One strike. That was all it took.
Through the hole, I saw Eva sprawled motionless.
Inhuman strength. So this was a dwarf.
Zoë heaved, her tiny shoulders rising and falling.
She had seemed fragile compared with Eva’s speed. But in truth, they were equals.
Eva didn’t stir. She was out cold.
The children erupted.
“Zoë wins!”
“Zo~ee! Zoë~!”
In the end, strength had decided it all.
That was the children’s code.