That night, we had a BBQ.
It was a two-night, three-day camp, and Renji-san had organized this final night event to make it a memorable one.
I looked around at the exorcist trainees gathered in one place—mostly middle school and high school students—and couldn't help but wonder how many of them would survive to adulthood. It was a grim thought, but it crossed my mind.
The mortality rate for exorcists is high.
Just as we show no mercy to monsters, they show none to humans.
First-time kills, brainwashing, stealth attacks—they'll use any means necessary to end a life.
Sure, the pay for exorcists is good. The sense of purpose, of protecting people, is fulfilling in its own way. But for someone like me, who came from a past life filled with dull routines, I couldn't help but question it. Do people really want this kind of work? I thought. Do they truly feel that it's worth it?
Of course, my personal thoughts didn't really matter here. The cold truth was that being an exorcist was a dangerous job, and not everyone survived.
What mattered was that being an exorcist was a dangerous job, and many died young.
So, at the very least, I didn't want any of them to die before they reached adulthood. I knew it was naïve to hope for that, especially when they were all aware of the risks involved.
Maybe the reason I was feeling so sentimental was because of the resonance I shared with Yuki-onna earlier. It had me reflecting on life a bit more than usual.
Aya-chan, Shirayuki-sensei, and I enjoyed the BBQ a little apart from the others.
"Itsuki-kun, the meat's ready," Shirayuki-sensei said, handing me a plate.
"Thank you."
"I also brought some marshmallows, so later, we can make roasted marshmallows and baked apples," she added with a smile.
"Baked apples?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, it's essential for the end of a BBQ," she nodded enthusiastically.
I'd heard of roasting marshmallows, sure, but baked apples? That sounded more like something you'd make in an oven. Not that I knew much about it and it seemed a bit out of place for a BBQ.
"Do you like apples, Shirayuki-sensei?" Aya-chan asked innocently.
"Well... I suppose... just as much as the next person..." Shirayuki-sensei replied, looking a bit embarrassed as she nodded.
She then served some meat onto Aya-chan's plate, and I watched quietly as my mind wandered a little.
Resonance works by sharing a connection through similar traits—like the principle of "sympathetic magic," though here it was closer to "classical thaumaturgy."
In this world, magic allows for "attribute transformation" as well as "property transformation."
"Property transformation" is versatile, allowing one to change magical energy into just about anything.
For example, I once made a pumpkin carriage as a playful nod to Cinderella. It wasn't practical, but it was possible. I had also created clothes for Hina using magic, simply because I could.
My point is, I've always thought that the fairytales from this world could easily be based on historical truths.
Which brings me back to the current situation.
Shirayuki-sensei's ageless beauty, her fondness for apples, and her way of helping those lost in resonance—it all reminded me of the story of Snow White.
Maybe I was overthinking things. A stretch, perhaps, but the parallels were hard to ignore.
"Itsuki-kun, the onions are done too," Shirayuki-sensei said, interrupting my thoughts.
"Ah, thank you," I replied as she placed the onions on my plate. "Aren't you going to eat, sensei?"
"I'm not very good with heavy meats," she admitted with a shy smile. "But don't worry, I'm eating fine."
"So, thank you, Yuki-onna."
I faced her directly and thanked her sincerely.
For a moment, Yuki-onna stayed silent, her eyes locked on mine. And then, she began to cry.
"W-wait! Are you okay?" I panicked, not knowing what to do. I wasn't used to seeing girls cry—well, aside from Hina.
"W-why are you crying?" I asked, utterly flustered.
"...It's nothing," she said softly.
"Nothing? People don't cry over nothing..."
When I pressed her, Yuki-onna continued in a quiet, trembling voice.
"I... I didn't think anyone would ever thank me. Not after becoming like this."
"..."
Yuki-onna wasn't human, after all.
"I tried to die to save my village... but then I became something else, something no longer human. I did everything I could to avoid hurting people, but they all feared me."
"Yeah..."
"For so long, I was alone. So I hunted other spirits, thinking maybe, just maybe, someone would recognize me. Someone would see me for what I was."
I knew her story. I'd seen it all firsthand.
"But no one ever accepted me."
"..."
A spirit hunting other spirits wouldn't be seen as a protector by humans. Most would simply assume it was an internal conflict between monsters.
And so, Yuki-onna had fought a long, thankless battle, all alone. I knew that better than anyone.
"That's why... when Aya and you said thank you... for the first time, I felt like I had done something right, like my existence had meaning."
"You're right," I said.
I knew it. That's why I had to thank her, too.
"Yuki-onna, you have every right to live. You've given us this chance to enjoy today. Without you, none of this would've been possible."
I had trained hard to avoid dying, and I had done so because I had something to fight for. But that wasn't the only reason.
I'd been supported by countless people, people who recognized my efforts, who encouraged me to keep going.
But who would recognize Yuki-onna's efforts? Who would repay her for all she had done?
"That's why I want to thank you," I said firmly.
"...Itsuki..."
"I'm really glad you're here, Yuki-onna."
And with that, Yuki-onna burst into tears.
She had the right to cry. She needed to cry. And maybe, after letting those tears out, she could smile again.
For her, that would be the greatest happiness.