Words To Convey Lamento Short Story • Translation

Original Text: Lamento - BEYOND THE VOID - Official Visual Fanbook: White Notes
Original Writer: Kabura Fuchii
Disclaimer: The original text belongs to Nitro+CHiRAL. I own nothing but my own translation text.

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Translation and Proofreading: Shinocchi

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A/N: Requested by anon. Love this story! :)

This story takes place when the Moon of Light sinks beneath the horizon, replaced by the Moon of Shadow as it lang
uidly makes its way above the sky.

As the Winter Festival continues its rigorous hype, Konoe and Asato hang around in Bardo’s inn, having just done w
ith dinner.

Well-fed customers swiftly make their way out of the dining space. When the last of the customer shows signs of lea
ving the place, Bardo tucks away his lay-back self and starts cleaning up the empty dishes on the tables.

Rai has left the place since noon, mentioning something about having an errand to run.

As the dining space calms and tips over the aftermath of buzz, only the sound of dishes clanking against each other r
emains.

Konoe listens to the noise of festival echoing from outside the window as he stares absentmindedly at the glass of fr
uit juice in his hand, sipping from it once a while.

It feels like he’s experiencing two different worlds at once when he compares the atmosphere inside the inn and the
one on the street. Konoe shifts his gaze to stare at the night sky that is starting to blanket his vision. All of a sudden,
he catches sight of a signboard above a shop, lightened up by a torch of fire hanging on the wall.

The signboard is written in Ribika’s words. As if reminded of something, Konoe turns to look at Asato, who’s sitting
 beside him, out of his own instinct, just to find Asato staring unblinkingly at the basket of decorative flowers on the
dining table.

“Asato, you…”

“…?”

Konoe’s voice has Asato turns around to look at him, curiosity written all over his face.

“Can Asato write?”

“Words? I can’t write.”

“I see.”

He feels a tad relief upon hearing his answer.

“Can Konoe write?”

“I can’t. But it’s not like it’s inconvenient not being able to write…”

“It won’t be inconvenient. But it’d be useful if you know how to write.”

Out of nowhere, a passing-by Bardo interrupts their conversation.

He’s holding a few empty plates in his hands, his long tiger-striped tail swaying left and right.

“Do you know? The Two Canes used to confess through written letters a long, long time ago.”

“Huh?”

That feels kind of surreal to Konoe.

He thought there’d be more advanced and practical way of expressing one’s feelings than using words in letters.

Even though Ribika has their own unique way to convey their emotions – like using a special drawing-like text – so
me of them also tend to use words to convey their thoughts. But most Ribikas don’t seem to be able to write themsel
ves.
The concept of putting across one’s thoughts through letters is non-existent.

“It’s unbelievable.”

“Is that so?”

“Well, you see, the Two Canes should have other ways to convey their thoughts so why would they feel the need to
go through all the troubles for something as simple as this?”

Bardo raises a surprised brow at Konoe’s question.

“There are a lot of reasons to it. It could be a tradition passed down from the past.”

“Can words reach the heart?”

Asato, who has been silent for the entire time now, opens his mouth as if intends to ask something but swallowing it
down before he could.

His ears stand with perpetual interest.

Staring attentively at Konoe, Asato’s tail swings and keeps hitting the floor. Once Bardo finishes his words, Asato tu
rns around, shifting his gaze towards Bardo instead.

“How do you write ‘Konoe is beautiful’?”

“What?”

Bardo drops his jaw out of reflex.

“…You know, it’s easier to say it out loud, don’t you think? He’s just sitting right beside you.”

He’s not wrong.

Unable able to bolster his discomfiture, Konoe looks at Bardo.

“See, it’s just like what I said. It’s faster to speak your thoughts out than writing them out.”
“Even so, you have to admit that there are some things that would be too hard for you to say it out loud, right? Asato
is a special case. For some people, it’s hard for them to say a simple thank you to express their affection towards so
meone else.”

“That’s…”

It can’t be, right?

“Sometimes you just can’t bring yourself to say it, right? That’s how writing it down becomes one of the ways to ex
press it.”

Indeed, if that’s how it works, then it’s understandable.

“How about you try doing it yourself?”

Even when it’s only an offhand suggestion, Bardo’s goodwill is responded by Konoe’s unnatural expression.

He can’t do it.

And he has a good reason to why he absolutely cannot do it.

– That’s because he can’t write very well.

“Oh, right, you have a terrible handwriting.”

Bardo chuckles and nods repeatedly despite noticing the frustration on Konoe’s face.

“Shall I teach you how to write then?”

“Can you write?”

“I’m the one who writes all the comments on the counter. You don’t think I’ve wasted all my studying years, have y
ou?”

With a pause, Bardo walks towards the counter and comes back with some papers and pens.

He places the papers on the table and starts writing.

“How about this?”

After he’s done with it, he shows it to Konoe proudly.

But.

“…Is this what you would consider as good?”

Konoe’s response has Bardo shrugging with a disappointed expression.

“Ah, I see. You can’t read too, can’t you?”

He’s right. That’s why he can’t really tell if Bardo writes beautifully or if it’s the total opposite of it.

But he has to admit that Bardo’s hand movements when he wrote were indeed beautiful.

“How about you?”

Bardo points at Asato with his chin. But, of course, Asato only tilts his head, then shakes it.

“I can’t tell. But.”

“But?”

“I know you draw terribly.”

“… It’s totally fine if you don’t talk about that, you know?”

While Bardo becomes more and more frustrated with every passing second, Konoe ignores him and scrutinizes the
words on the paper.

He can’t tell if Bardo’s handwriting is good or bad but if he tries hard enough, he’s able to read the words he writes.

“A pie… made of… Kuims… is very… delicious.”

“Oh, you got it.”

“Why do you write something so lame…”

“Does it matter what I write?”

With his hands on his hips, Bardo answers. Konoe shifts his gaze to the pen after staring at a clearly amused Bardo f
or a bit.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing…”

Despite his offhand response, an idea flickers in Konoe’s head.

What should he do?

Maybe he should ask Bardo.

With his determination refined, Konoe looks up.

“Erm.”

“Hm?”

“I hope you can teach me.”

“What is it?”

“Words.”

Bardo’s eyes brighten, astonished.

“Words?”

“…That’s right.”

Feeling awkward all of a sudden, Konoe averts Bardo’s gaze.

“I don’t mind teaching you. What do you intend to do with them?”

“It doesn’t matter, right? Whatever I want to do with them.”

“Oh well, it’s easy to guess what this means anyway, considering the flow of our conversation.”

“You’re using the words to convey your feelings to someone you can’t bring yourself to speak with, right?”

“Shut up. It’s fine either way. Hurry up and teach me already.”

“Sure, sure.”

“I want to learn too.”

Asato stares with intense seriousness in his eyes.

“I also want to learn how to write, so I can write ‘Konoe is beautiful’.”

“Seriously, you…”

With a small sigh, Konoe distracts his attention towards Asato.

The Moon of Shadow emits its radiance. Rai, having returned to the inn, ignores the counter as usual and starts walki
ng up to the second floor.

Today’s task was easy – it’s all just information-hunting. If he could, he wishes he could keep his eyes on his Sanga
at all time but the place he had to go is one where delinquents gather so he has no choice but to keep Konoe out of th
e way.

It’s better to leave him in the inn than exposing him to such a dangerous spot.

As that thought crosses his mind, he releases a truncated sigh then comes to stand in front of his own room on the se
cond floor.

If Konoe is inside, the door shouldn’t be locked.

Once he opens the door, Rai’s gaze stops on the floor.

Something has fallen from the gap of the initially closed door.

Rai bends down a tad to pick up the folded paper.

Opening up the paper in mild surprise, a deep frown forms in between his eyebrows.

“…”

What is this?

That was his very first thought.

The lines wriggle like earthworms, twirling around on the paper.

Just in case, he looks at the doors of the other rooms. But there doesn’t seem to have any papers clipped in between t
he door gaps.

Is this a new way to prank someone? He wonders if Bardo was the one who’d done this.

He’s about to get irritated when a familiar scent brushes pass his nose.

This is… Konoe’s scent.

He flips the paper around and examines it for a bit and finally, manages to make out some words from the mess on t
he paper.

– al…

– always.

“…”

Did Konoe write this?

Where exactly did he learn about this?

Or does he already know about it all along? Or was it Bardo who had taught him about it?
He clicks his tongue. But it’s not the same click of the tongue that he’d always done out of annoyance.

He opens the door wide then peeks inside. Konoe doesn’t seem to be around.

As he wonders about how careless it is for Konoe to keep the door unlocked like this, Rai sweeps his tail and walks
down the stairs.

He peeks into the eating area and sees that Bardo is cleaning up the last of the cutleries and is preparing to bring the
m into the kitchen.

He’s about to leave but Bardo notices him before he could. Instinctively, Rai scowls.

“Oh, what’s the matter? Are you hungry?”

“…Where’s the stupid cat?”

“Who knows? Maybe he’s bathing in the backyard? Is he not there?”

“It’s nothing to do with you.”

“Hmmm. …Oh well, I’d understand if he goes missing all of a sudden, especially after seeing that embarrassed react
ion of his.”

While Bardo chuckles at Rai, Rai throws him a sharp glare.

“As I thought, you were the one who’d taught him, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t teach him useless things like this.”

“It’s not useless. Aren’t you the one looking for Konoe after reading his letter?”

“…I’m only looking for him to scold him for not locking the door when he’s not in the room.”

“Hmm.”
Without responding to a chortling Bardo, Rai sighs and turns his back towards the dining space.

For some reason, Bardo calls out to his leaving back with a relaxed yet anticipating tone.

“Look properly for him and bring him back, okay? Even if he has done something wrong, try not to be too harsh to h
im. If not, it’d be too late when you regret later.”

“I don’t need you to teach me how to do things.”

“What I’m saying is you need to be more considerate towards Konoe’s feelings.”

“Shut up.”

With that said, Rai leaves the dining space.

This time, Bardo properly sees Rai leave before he lets out a light sigh.

“… Oh well, he’s not dense, I guess.”

Bardo speaks to himself. Leaving behind a casual comment, Bardo paces towards the kitchen.

The dining space returns to its initial silence; all that could be heard is the soft rustling sounds of the papers on the ta
ble.

Even though he’d corrected it multiple times, his words still look like nothing but earthworms. But if one is to read c
arefully, they will eventually make out the words behind those lines.

– Thank you, always.