I first retrieved a cool stick from under the bed.
“Fukuro, I need your help. Grab Luria by the shoulders and lift her up a little.”
“Hoo?”
“There’s no time to explain. Please.”
Following my instructions, Fukuro grabbed my shoulders and lifted me into the air. Despite flapping vigorously, its wingbeats were as quiet as ever.
“Wow, Fukuro, you’re amazing. Thanks.”
It would be difficult to explain why my shoulder area was so worn out if someone asked. So, it was better to avoid being asked in the first place.
“If I do this, no one will ask, ‘Why is it all worn out?’”
The reason it was in such a state was obvious to anyone looking, leaving no need to inquire.
“Hoo!”
Fukuro seemed impressed. I am, after all, a strategist.
“Kyuu.”
Carro looked at me with an exasperated expression. Perhaps the real intent of my plan hadn’t been conveyed.
‘…Lady Luria, why would you do such a thing?’
“That’s what this is for.”
I swung the stick around.
“With this, it just looks like I’m practicing aerial combat.”
‘…I see.’
“Kyuu kyuu.”
Kuro and Carro seemed exasperated, but maybe I was imagining things.
“Ha! Ha! Haa-chaah~~!”
I immediately started swinging the stick. If I didn’t get a little out of breath, it might seem suspicious.
—Flap, flap—
As I swung the stick, Fukuro flapped its wings in time with me.
“Are you okay, Fukuro?”
“Hoo!”
Fukuro seemed to say, “I’m fine, leave it to me.”
“If it’s too much, you can let me down, okay?”
“Hoo!”
I kept swinging the stick, recalling the swordsmanship practice I always did.
Swordsmanship without your feet firmly on the ground was definitely difficult.
(So this is what the teacher meant when they said weight shifting is important…)
The swordsmanship instructor always emphasized, “Weight transfer is key. Don’t neglect footwork.” Swinging the stick in an unstable, airborne state made me realize the importance of footwork.
—Flap, flap, flap—
“Hyah! Hah!”
Swinging the stick started to feel fun.
While I was fully engrossed in swinging the stick, my mother came into the room.
“Put Luria down!”
She rushed toward Fukuro in a panic.
—Flap, flap—
Fukuro easily dodged her.
“Fukuro! Let me down!”
Fukuro gently set me down on the floor.
“Thanks, okay?”
I patted Fukuro affectionately.
“Luria!”
Then my mother hugged me tightly.
“Mother?”
“Oh… You had me so worried…”
“Sorry. I was just practicing with Fukuro’s help.”
“It looked like you were being abducted.”
“Sorry.”
I hadn’t thought of that. But it might be natural to think a large bird of prey carrying a small child looked like an abduction.
“…Hoo.”
Fukuro approached my mother apologetically.
“Mother, I asked Fukuro to do it. It’s not Fukuro’s fault.”
“…Alright. Fukuro isn’t to blame.”
“Yeah. Mother, I’m sorry, okay?”
“…Really, Luria, you’re always so good with animals.”
“Yeah, they’re all good kids.”
Then Sara came into the room, toddling over to pat Fukuro.
“Fukuro is cute.”
“Yes, he is. Though I was startled earlier.”
Sara and Mother petted Fukuro together, and he looked pleased.
—Flap, flap, flap—
“Cluck.”
At that moment, Koruko entered through the window.
Since Koruko was a chicken, it couldn’t fly for long. But chickens can manage up to the second floor.
As a guardian beast, Koruko could probably fly longer than ordinary chickens—maybe even up to the third floor.
“Welcome back, Koruko.”
Koruko had left earlier while we were discussing Loa’s meals.
“Cluck.”
Koruko greeted us softly and walked to the far side of the bed. Then, it moved back to the window, as if about to leave again.
“Wait, Koruko.”
“Cluck?”
Mother stopped Koruko as it was about to fly out the window.
“…You were holding a bug when you came in, weren’t you?”
“Cluck?”
“Why aren’t you holding it now?”
“…Cluck.”
Koruko averted its gaze.
“…Don’t tell me!”
Mother got up and ran to the far side of the bed.
“Eek!”
She let out a small scream and collapsed to her knees.
“Mother, what’s wrong?”
Sara and I rushed over to her in a panic.
“Whoa!”
Startled, Sara’s tail swished.
“Ah, well, this is…”
Behind the bed, there was a basket filled with wriggling, live caterpillars.
