Interlude: Where the Heart Leads

The first time I saw her, I wasn’t particularly interested beyond the fact that she was an elf.

I had simply found the elf slave I wanted and was inwardly pleased at scoring such a bargain. …The first moment my feelings began to change was when she spotted me and desperately tried to appeal to me—using Japanese—to buy her.

■□>> Where the Heart Leads._

She introduced herself as "Sora Amashiro," a 16-year-old former Japanese girl, an elf who spoke in an odd manner.

Once officially my slave, Sora was so defenseless it was hard to believe she was a girl, acting as casually as if she were dealing with someone of the same sex.

She didn’t care that her skirt fluttered wildly when she moved, repeatedly revealing glimpses of the white fabric hugging her small bottom. Even when sleeping, she remained unfazed by my presence, lying down in the bed next to mine without a second thought.

What’s more, every time she woke up in the middle of the night—whether because the temperature was too hot or not—she’d kick off the covers, shamelessly exposing her pale stomach.

At first, I wondered if she was lying about her age and was actually just a child who looked the part. But as far as I could tell from our conversations, there was no deceit in Sora’s words. There were moments that felt a little off, but at the very least, nothing she said contradicted itself.

In the end, all I knew for sure was that she really had once been Japanese and was close to me in age. And if that was the case… maybe she was even trying to seduce me.

Had it been because I’d already spent over three months in this world, unable to talk to anyone about my past, forced to live alone for so long?

Little by little, even handling things on my own had started to feel meaningless. Not that I had any desire to visit a brothel, but when I went to the slave market looking for a sex slave… I found her instead. Hearing that familiar Japanese had made me so happy that I reached out without thinking.

I completely forgot why I’d gone to buy a slave in the first place.

She seemed just as happy as I was to meet someone who shared memories of Japan. With a bright smile, she eagerly told me stories of the past and all the hardships she’d faced since coming here.

But for a healthy young man who’d been living a long period of abstinence, her sweet scent and utterly defenseless attitude were nothing short of poison.

Her appearance was too childish to be my usual type, but as I breathed in that soft, flowery fragrance unique to sweet girls… I was surprised to find myself thinking, Maybe this could work after all.

Days like that continued, and before I knew it, I had surrendered to my swelling desires.

Even as she desperately resisted, shouting that she was a man, I dragged her onto the bed. By the time her trembling whimpers snapped me back to my senses, it was already too late. Once the floodgates of youthful lust had been broken, sealing them shut again proved nearly impossible.

Worst of all, after that, she became even more alluring than before. Though she’d cower and curse at me, she refused to leave my side. Despite acting scared and hurling insults, whenever things escalated, she’d cling to me with a tearful face, begging for gentle cruelty.

Even when she sulked, claiming I’d bullied her, all it took was a tasty treat as a peace offering for her to instantly forget and flash me a smile.

Her innocent, almost simple-minded, puppy-like behavior had ensnared me in no time—me, someone who had felt nothing but loneliness both before and after coming to this world.

Thanks to my parents’ influence, I had attended elite schools from elementary through high school. While I never struggled academically, my love for fantastical stories meant I never really made like-minded friends.

By middle school, I gave up even trying to make friends—it was just too much trouble. My grades improved, but the trade-off was that school became nothing more than an empty place to study and achieve results. The free time I gained was poured even deeper into my hobbies.

That was why, when I was first sent to this world, my joy had outweighed everything else.

Here, I might finally find what I truly wanted to do. I might even meet companions I could trust with my heart. Dreaming of the kind of story I’d once read in a book, I threw myself into this world—only to remain an outsider here as well.

No matter where I went, I was a foreigner. No one knew of Japan. Even if traces of other Japanese people existed here and there, there was no one who truly shared my homeland.

Half in despair, I searched for the elves I had longed for, only to be told they had supposedly gone extinct long ago. For a moment, I nearly lost the will to live.

In that sense… she was the first friend I’d made who understood me, a fellow countrywoman—and, above all, the very elf I had wished for.

Perhaps that was the biggest reason I grew so obsessed with her. Of course, living together came with its share of frustrations, and we fought more times than I could count. But every time we made up, it felt like we grew even closer than before, and that made me happy.

I remember someone once said, “A true best friend is someone you still want to be with even after sharing both the bad and the good.”
If that’s the standard, then without a doubt—she’s my best friend.

But I didn’t want her to just be a best friend.
I wanted her to be closer—right by my side.

A soft, floral scent wakes me.
As my hazy consciousness clears, I glance around my room… and return my gaze to the thing I’d been using as a body pillow—Sora’s stomach… no, her chest?

With the clarity that comes from waking up, my memories begin to sharpen.
Looks like I’d cried myself to sleep after Sora comforted me.
I let out a self-deprecating chuckle—what am I, a child?

Still…
I recall the speech she gave me just before I passed out. I reach over and tickle the navel of the girl lying beside me, sprawled out with her belly exposed, and a smile slips onto my face.

“You’re just as confusing as ever. I still can’t tell whether you’re cool or not.”

I can’t carry your burdens for you, but if you need to cry, I can at least lend you my chest.

I feel like I should say something like “Let’s get through this together,” but when I look at her tiny hands and small shoulders, it feels like this is enough.
It’s strange, really.

Above all, her honesty—that’s just so like Sora.

She shifts restlessly in her sleep.
I lift her up and tuck her into bed properly, then lie down beside her.
Watching her peaceful, childlike sleeping face, it feels like all the bad things in my head are fading away.

As I stroke her hair, she clings to me, half-asleep.
No one would believe it if I told them she used to be a guy, not with how she looks now.
And yet… I don’t think she’s lying, either.

It’s a complicated feeling.
But not nearly enough to drown out how deeply precious she’s become to me.

After all, the only Sora I know is this Sora—as a girl.
It’s only natural I can’t picture how she was before.

What could I do to make her look at me more? To make her love me more?
No matter how thoroughly I build my case from the outside, what I want is her heart—and that’s the one thing that’s both so simple and so hard to reach.

And somehow, even being tossed around by that desire… it’s fun now.
Love really is hopeless.

If I told her I plan to have a wedding once the country settles down, would she get angry?
Would she cry and reject me?

I know it’s wrong to push my feelings onto her.
But imagining her reaction makes something cruel stir inside me, quietly.

“I love you.”

“U…uuh…”

I gently part her hair and whisper it, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
And the moment I do, she starts to grimace in her sleep, like she’s having a nightmare.

What a rude reaction.

But even so, I have no intention of letting her go.

Hugging the girl who tossed and turned in her sleep,
I thought firmly—Please, just give in already and be mine.