Aochi
No mistake—it’s the same bird that flew off into that dark snowy sky.
It looks like that bird they call a Tufted Puffin. I think those had orangish beaks, but this one’s is a brilliant crimson. It dives down with its black wings spread wide.
“Wha—”
I pressed myself against the window. My Tufted Puffin and the red-crowned crane look-alike flew in on a straight path and collided violently in midair—just before they could reach the hearts.
The hearts, still burning and pulsing, all suddenly beat faster.
Feathers of black and white scattered through the air as the two birds fought fiercely. That crane-thing may be scrawny, but it’s terrifying. Actually, they’re both huge—straight-up monsters—but that crane-thing’s cry is just freakish. I’ve heard a crane’s voice on some show before. Its loud screech didn’t match its appearance at all, and hearing that from a sky-speaker at full volume is what this feels like.
Completely different from the giant puffin who fights silently. So damn noisy.
Then the crane let out an even sharper screech that pierced my ears—and blood sprayed into the air. My skin crawled.I recognized that color. When I got lost in the mountains, I was certain it was the blood of a living snow.There might be all kinds of red in the world, but I’d never mistake that one. So it was that crane bastard—the one who tried to lure the snow into swallowing me whole.
The crane-thing, now with its white chest stained red, seemed to finally give up on eating the hearts and fled in the opposite direction from where it came.
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Hell yeah, that’s my giant puffin. It saved the hearts.
I felt like I’d just defeated an evil crane myself.
The puffin was still in the air, hovering with its wings spread as if keeping watch. A bird that size hovering in place—it looked straight out of a kaiju movie. Too damn cool.
I started to calm down enough to wonder what the others thought of it all.
...What the hell. Oomi looked pale, and Oze was completely freaked out. Sure, a blood-soaked bird was a nasty sight, but this guy was all happy talking about “grabbing the bird” earlier like it was some kind of barbarian sport.
“The hearts are being absorbed,” Oomi said.
His voice reminded me of them—I’d been so fixated on the bird I’d forgotten.
—The bomb really was a net. A quiet bomb that didn’t explode, pulling the hearts in softly. It was like the moment a sparkler fizzles out—leaving behind this strangely sad feeling as the hearts dropped one by one into the bomb and disappeared.
“Look. The bomb’s turning transparent,” Oomi said again.
He was the only one who’d been speaking this whole time. His face was pale from the sight of blood, which he’s bad with, but yeah—he really is the strongest one here.
“You’re right. Where did the hearts go? Looks like some kind of iron bubble. So that becomes the fuel... Ah!”
The bird—my giant puffin—was flying away.
Before anyone could stop me, I bolted out of the room. We’d just been reunited, and I couldn’t let it disappear on me again. I had to show it—I was here.
Out of breath, I ran onto the deck. The puffin was still hovering like it had been waiting for me.
“Ah...”
My chest was too full to speak. I leaned over the railing, nearly falling, and stretched my hand out as far as I could. Where was it flying now, between the midday sky and sea? I wanted to go with it.
Maybe the sea breeze carried my feelings, because the puffin suddenly turned and flew toward me.
“You can’t.”
I froze. That voice—Oomi? I turned to look.
It was him. But that voice… it was low, cold, mechanical almost. Was that really him?
“You can’t go yet.”
I wasn’t being touched, but I couldn’t move—as if something was holding me in place.
And then I heard the sound of wings, close by.
It wasn’t the first time I’d heard it. That same sound had reached my ears that night.
I turned to the source of the sound, and my eyes met with a black gaze ringed in red. Just for a moment—or maybe longer. Time seemed to fall away.
I was entranced, locked into that stare.
And before I realized it, the bird was gone.
Only I remained, clinging to the ship’s railing.