Chapter 123: Stelle: Take This!
Before departing the World of Fear, Stelle had conveniently planted an anchor. Now, upon arriving in the World of Sorrow, she did the same. It was a good habit to cultivate, placing anchors wherever and whenever possible. As long as one was set, she could return at any time—even if the space wasn't reality, but a world born of the mind.
The Path of the Trailblaze was truly miraculous, wasn't it?
"Don't say that..." March 7th gently stopped Stelle, her eyes wide with a dawning, absurd realization. "Maybe it's not that Rekka wants to watch mermaids bathe... but that—these are Rekka!"
"These aren't me!" Rekka protested loudly, his voice strained.
Three mermaids were soaking in the gentle current of a crystal-clear river. Their long, vibrant hair clung to their shoulders, and their fair legs, which smoothly transitioned into shimmering tails beneath the surface, swayed languidly in the water. They possessed a fragile, pitiful sort of beauty, though in truth, they looked more like the Sirens of ancient myth.
Dan Heng stood on the bank with his arms crossed, his expression calm as he observed the trio in the water. "The manifested forms of the subconscious often represent imagery that most easily connects with one's heart," he stated, his voice a low murmur. "Perhaps your subconscious believes that this fragile, feminine image is the purest representation of sorrow."
Weak, pitiful, and helpless...
But anyone who knew Rekka knew that if weakness was on display, the sweat of exertion would only ever be on his opponent's brow.
"Do you guys want to come down?"
The awkward silence was finally broken by the youngest-looking mermaid, a girl named Mello. She tilted her head, a hopeful look in her large, tear-brimmed eyes. "Want to play with us?"
Hearing the invitation, Stelle's eyes lit up. She immediately bent down, her hands already moving to untie her shoes, ready to jump in.
Just then, a figure wreathed in an aura of despair appeared. It was the manifestation of Sorrow itself, holding a long, cruel-looking whip, every inch the part of an evil slave driver. Across the water, a mermaid with a slightly more mature air brandished a longsword, bravely confronting the tyrannical figure.
"Take this!" Stelle roared, her protective instincts flaring. She was already lunging forward, ready to join the fray.
"Wait, it's an act! It's an act!" one of the other mermaids, known only as the Little Mermaid, cried out desperately.
Stelle, who had already brandished her baseball bat and taken half a step into a wind-up, slammed on the brakes. She froze, still holding her perfect home-run posture, and slowly turned her head. Her eyes were a giant, blinking question mark.
"An act?"
"Ah... yes," the mermaid stammered, "we're acting out a tragedy..."
Stelle squinted at the scene again. The mermaid with the sword was being steadily forced back by the whip. Her swordsmanship was sharp, but it was clear now that it lacked any true killing intent. The whip, wielded by the figure of Sorrow, cracked menacingly but always struck the water just beside her feet, sending up huge splashes. His aim was precise and his strength perfectly controlled; the entire display was pure, terrifying-looking theater.
She had almost hit the wrong person.
Stelle guiltily lowered her baseball bat. "So moving..." she mumbled, trying to play it cool.
"Yeah..." March 7th agreed, though she had no idea what was supposed to be so moving about it.
The mermaids in the audience, however, were all weeping. Their tears fell into the river and onto the grassy bank, each one solidifying into a shiny, round pearl. From left to right, the audience consisted of Siren, Mello, and the Little Mermaid.
"Waaaah..." The youngest, Mello, was crying the hardest. Her tears fell in a rapid, tinkling cascade as they struck the water's surface.
Stelle crouched beside her and reached out, catching a teardrop as it rolled down the grass. The bead settled into her palm, cool to the touch, with a soft, pearlescent glow emanating from its surface. "Are these tears actually pearls?"
"Yeah," Mello nodded between sobs. "We drop pearls when we cry."
A rather wicked thought flashed through Stelle's mind—a get-rich-quick scheme of epic proportions—but she quickly snuffed it out. 'Can't fleece them, can't fleece them,'she told herself firmly.'This is Rekka's inner world. If I fleece his emotional manifestations, he'll definitely hold a grudge.'
March 7th, oblivious to Stelle's brief flirtation with grand larceny, crouched on the bank beside her, tilting her head to watch the ongoing "tragedy." "So, you guys just perform these things here all day?"
"That's right," Siren confirmed, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes. Her voice still trembled with emotion. "He's the director and the lead actor. Every performance is a tragedy, the kind where someone has to die at the end. Today's play is 'The Whipped Princess,'tomorrow might be'The Drowned Bride,'and the day after that is'The Burning Palace'..."
"All tragedies?" Stelle asked, surprised.
"All of them," Siren nodded. "Because tragedies are beautiful. And it feels good after a good cry."
"So you're actually just playing house?" March asked.
"It's not playing house!" the Little Mermaid insisted, puffing out her cheeks indignantly. "We are acting seriously! Every scene is serious!"
"Even if you're serious, you can't do it every single day..." Stelle fiddled with the pearl in her hand for another moment before reluctantly placing it back on the grass. "Besides, watching too many tragedies can lead to depression. Don't you ever want to switch to a comedy for a change?"
The little theater on the riverbank continued. The long whip traced a beautiful, deadly arc through the air before precisely entangling the sword-wielding mermaid's blade. With a sharp flick of his wrist, the figure of Sorrow sent the longsword flying from her grasp. It flipped several times in the air before plunging deep into the sandy ground by the bank.
The mermaid girl collapsed to her knees in the water, her long hair scattering across the surface like spilled ink.
"Next is the third act," Siren whispered, wiping away a fresh wave of tears. Her voice was still choked with emotion. "The prince will appear and rescue her. Then they will fight the tyrant together."
"And then?" March prompted.
"Then the tyrant will kill the prince," the Little Mermaid chimed in mournfully. "The princess will jump into the sea, holding the prince's body. The tyrant will be left standing on the cliff, all alone..."
"Wait," Stelle frowned, cutting in. "Isn't this plot a bit too miserable?"
"That's what a tragedy is," the Little Mermaid replied, wiping her own tears. "It wouldn't be a tragedy if it wasn't miserable."
As if on cue, Siren picked up a prop weapon from the bank and leaped out of the water. "I am the prince!" she declared dramatically. "Tyrant! Your reign ends here!"
March 7th turned her head to look at Rekka. "So, your clones do this kind of thing every day?"
"They're not clones," Rekka corrected her, a weary sigh escaping his lips. "That is a side of my emotions. It is myself."
"Then why does your emotional side manifest as so many mermaids?"
"...Only the one who looks like me is a direct manifestation of an emotion, just like the beasts in the World of Fear," Rekka explained helplessly. "As for why they take the form of mermaids—isn't the story of a mermaid who gains legs but fails to find love, eventually turning into sea foam, a classic representation of tragedy?"
March crouched on the bank, resting her chin in her hands as she watched the play unfold. The mermaid princess had already fallen into the arms of the "prince." The sword remained stuck in the ground, and a dramatic tear had been sliced into the fabric over the princess's chest.
"They're part of you too, right?" March asked Rekka. "Don't they get tired of crying every day?"
Hearing her question, the mermaids in the water shook their heads in unison.
"Not tired!" Siren declared, wiping her tears.
"It feels good after crying!" the Little Mermaid agreed.
"And the pearls can be given to friends!" Mello added. She held up a small, sparkling handful of pearls she had gathered and offered them to Stelle.
Stelle looked at the shimmering pearls, then at Mello's small face, still stained with tear tracks. Her resolve finally crumbled. She reached out and carefully took two.
"Well, in that case, I won't be polite."
Having placed anchors in two of Rekka's emotional worlds in one go, the group was starting to feel a bit drained.
"Let's go," Rekka announced. "Time for lunch."
"Eh? The pearls didn't disappear?"
After they returned to the Astral Express, Stelle reached into her pocket and discovered that the two pearls the mermaids had given her were still there, solid and real.
Suddenly, a brilliant idea sparked in her mind.
"Rekka, Rekka!" she called out, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Can you let those mermaids come out to play?"
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