The Power of Moe

by Ichiro Sakaki

  Apparently the “private academy in foreign culture where the empress herself goes”—in other words, my mansion—had become the talk of the nobility. Although she had originally come to see me in secret, Petralka started coming here publicly, and that meant all the empire’s other nobles now knew about me. They decided that it would be to the nation’s (and their) advantage to proactively learn about this advanced foreign culture that would soon be finding its way into the empire, and they lost no time sending their children to this “academy.”

  What was more, the national apparatus of this Holy Eldant Empire was broken into “haves” and “have-nots” based largely on how close you were to Her Majesty the Empress. Hence plenty of people wanted their kids in this “foreign-culture academy” just so they could get close to Petralka.

  All this explained why I was in such a hurry to build the school. Obviously, I had no desire to make otaku culture something for the nobility alone. I wanted it to be popular with everyone in the Holy Eldant Empire and, if possible, maybe even some of the neighboring states.

  But the reality was, commoners had no way into my “academy.” The difference in education between the children of the nobility and of the lower classes was just too great. Commoners generally couldn’t read and write—as in, they didn’t even necessarily know how to use paper and writing utensils. In contrast, the nobility and those around them were privy to high culture and advanced magical skills; they had a very different way of thinking from the commoners.

  There wouldn’t be much I could do about that so long as the “academy” was run solely by the team of me, myself, and I. It was one thing to build a school building, but it was just a vessel; I would still have to create the school as an institution.

  And so there we were.

  “Right, right. Ahem. For today—” Urged on by Petralka, I opened a new book.

  The number of manga Matoba-san had brought me was now close to a thousand. I could read a series every single day and still not run out for a while. So far I had been sticking to fantasy stories that I thought Petralka could easily sympathize with, but later, as she got more and more familiar with Japanese culture, I figured I could introduce school dramas and maybe some horror stuff.

  Even as these thoughts ran through my mind, I couldn’t suppress a yawn. I had been awfully busy recently, seeking opinions on the building of my school (both physical and organizational), trying to get approval for all sorts of things, and on and on. The fatigue was building up, and I wasn’t getting quite as much sleep as I was used to, either.

  “Shinichi.” Petralka was looking straight up at me.

  Incidentally, ever since that first time I had read manga to her, Petralka had decided that my lap was her spot. This was more than embarrassing in front of the other students; I had begged her to find another place, but she stubbornly refused to bend. Instead she continued to perch on my knees, as if showing off in front of the other students and Myusel.

  Thus, she was currently pressing her head against my shoulder as she looked up at me. It was an awfully cute and—although she would hate to hear it—childlike gesture.

  “Do you find us so boring?” She was almost whispering. Most likely, the students against the wall couldn’t hear her.

  “No, not—not at all, uh-uh.” I shook my head. “But Your Highness—erm, Petralka—it’s just... The tiredness...”

  “Hrm?”

  “Hey, if you just want someone to read to you, Minori-san or Matoba-san could—”

  “Certainly not,” Petralka said. “We prefer your tutelage, Shinichi. We prefer to listen to you read as we are doing now.” She wiggled her butt against my knees, adjusting her position.

  Erm, excuse me, Your Highness, but maybe you could not... do that? There’s a part of me that might stand up even with both of us sitting down, and I’d really rather it not...

  “Do you truly enjoy this manga?” Petralka asked.

  “Huh? Well, sure I do.”

  That’s why I was doing this work. Obviously.

  “We have met those who called themselves evangelists or missionaries several times before,” Petralka said earnestly. “The ulterior motives of most of them were perfectly transparent to us. They sought entry to our country because they thought they could gain fame or fortune here. How very few have come simply to bring us amusement...”

  I was lost for words. Yes, it was true I was trying to bring otaku culture to the Eldant Empire in order to entertain them. But as for the Japanese government, which had sent me, I suspected they were after something more. No doubt they thought there was some profit to be had. Even I wasn’t stupid enough to believe the government would do anything out of sheer altruism.

  “And you read with true joy,” Petralka went on, a small smile on her face.

  “Huh? I mean... I do?”

  “Mm. From where we sit, we can feel your breathing and your heartbeat. We can tell that you are truly absorbed in this manga. When the protagonist is in danger, your breath becomes ragged. When he is in love, your heart pounds. Sitting here, all this is evident to us. And, may we say, quite entertaining.” She said all this under her voice. “Possibly,” she added, “even more than the manga itself.”

  Her words pierced my heart. This girl was an imperial majesty. I didn’t know the specifics, but for her to be ruler at such a young age must have meant her parents were already dead, or at least in some state that rendered them unfit for the throne. Whatever the case, they weren’t there for her. There would be almost no one who was willing to ignore her identity as “Her Imperial Majesty” and engage her as the girl Petralka. Maybe no one at all.

  That meant there was no one who knew her heart of hearts. Even her “classmates” lined up along the wall were trying to get close to her because she was the empress. Chances were, they didn’t much care about her as a person.

  Petralka would have to keep in mind the distinction between an empress and her servants at all times, meaning the distinction between how she really felt and how she had to act. She could never tell anyone what she was really thinking and feeling; she had to treat everyone around her like administrators.

  Maybe she felt like there was a layer of glass between her and everyone around her. And if she hadn’t been quite so smart, maybe that wouldn’t have bothered her, but for better or for worse, she was obviously intelligent. All the more reason—

  “Shinichi?” Petralka had raised her voice in annoyance.

  Aw, crap! I just wanna give her hug and make her feel better, and I’m sure that’s making my heart race, but I guess I can’t do that...

  Just as my worries were reaching a fever pitch, Myusel came in, not with a knock but with a quiet announcement of “I’ve brought tea.”

  The reason she didn’t knock was so as not to interrupt my reading aloud. Because she had tea not just for me and Petralka but for twenty other students as well, she was pushing an awfully large cart.

  “Pardon me,” she whispered, executing a single small bow as she began to get everything ready.

  “Thanks,” I said, nodding at her. When she had set out the teacups and filled them, she bowed again and left.

  I looked silently after her.

  “Hmph.”

  From the direction of my knees came a sound of royal discontent.

  Myusel, of course, wasn’t participating in my little “academy.” This study group was full of the children of noble families; it was all too obvious that having her there would throw everyone into a tizzy. Plus, she and Brooke had to take care of things around the house—she had a mountain of chores from cleaning to washing to making meals—so she didn’t have time to study during the day.

  And so...

  “Okay, shall we begin?”

  I was sitting on the sofa in my office.

  “Yes, please,” Myusel said, smiling and opening her notebook.

  ...I was giving Myusel personal lessons before we went to sleep at night.

  She was really the first pers
on I had met when I got to Eldant, and in a way my first student, too, so I could hardly leave her high and dry just because things had gotten a little busy for me. Yes, I was tired from the day’s study session, but it was just so cute to see Myusel eagerly absorb Japanese from me. It really made me want to do my best for her.

  Petralka had ordered Myusel not to “outdo” her, but really, Petralka was just learning during the day and Myusel at night, so there was no danger of the maid outstripping the empress—I figured.

  But Myusel sprang something unexpected on me that day.

  “Um, Master... Could you... take off your magic ring for just a moment?”

  This request kind of came out of the blue.

  “Why?”

  “Please do it. Just for a few minutes...”

  She really seemed to want this, so I wasn’t going to turn her down. I mean, I was forever taking that ring on and off anyway—sometimes there were secrets to talk about—so it wasn’t like I had any particular objection to it. I pulled the metal band off my finger and set it on the table.

  “Okay, it’s off. What now?”

  It was only after I had spoken that it occurred to me: without the ring, Myusel wouldn’t be able to understand what I was saying. The rings would only work their translation—or should I say, interpretation—magic when we were both wearing them.

  Myusel said something in her lilting tones. After three months here, I could at least recognize that she was speaking of Eldant language. I wasn’t strong on specifics, but I had learned a handful of simple words, like retosamu (master) and sei (yes).

  She said something else, at the end of which I detected the sound “shi.”

  Myusel’s mouth was popping open and shut like a goldfish, her voice sounding strained.

  “Shinishi... Shin...ichi-sama. Is... this... good? This... ees... right?”

  “Huh?!”

  I could hardly believe my own ears. Myusel’s speech was slow and stumbling, but it was unmistakably Japanese. Her pronunciation wasn’t quite spot-on, but I could tell she was saying my name. I mean, heck, she had heard Minori-san and Matoba-san and even Petralka say it over and over, so I shouldn’t have been surprised that she could say it, too, but then she went on to practically start a conversation. I sure hadn’t taught her that.

  Had she been studying on her own in order to surprise me? Where would she have found the time?

  “Whoa...” I felt my heart growing warm with admiration.

  “Shinishi...sama?”

  Myusel didn’t seem quite confident of herself; she was looking up at me doubtfully.

  I gave an exaggerated nod and said, “Yes. That’s right.”

  “It were... good?” She looked very relieved.

  Myusel always seemed just a little bit anxious, but now there was a hint of pride. She was probably happy to see her effort rewarded. She looked so adorable, I suddenly found myself wanting to give her a hug.

  No...! Be still, O my arms!

  As I fought down my worst impulses, I put the magic ring back on my finger.

  “That’s amazing,” I said. “I can’t believe you learned to talk like that in such a short time.”

  “Did I really... not sound too strange?” she asked.

  “Well... A few things were a little bit off. But you were holding an actual conversation. I understood what you were trying to say, even without the ring.”

  “That’s wonderful,” she said, putting her hands to her chest.

  I suspected she would be able to write and read hiragana and katakana without trouble soon. It would probably take at least six months for her to get more familiar with the niceties of grammar—verb conjugations and such. But I was confident she would be able to at least communicate what she was thinking.

  “You really worked hard.”

  “I had you to teach me, Master. And...” She looked down a little. “I wanted to be able to speak the language of your country.”

  “Yeah. This means you’ll be able to enjoy anime and stuff without needing anyone to explain it to you.”

  On that note, I had been periodically showing Myusel and Petralka anime DVDs of late, but I had to essentially act as a simultaneous interpreter. You can’t put a magic ring on a DVD player.

  “No. I—” She was practically whispering now. She looked even more intently at the floor, shrinking into herself as if embarrassed. “One day you’ll return to your country, Master. And I... I hoped I could go with you.” Now her face was completely red.

  And me? I was sitting there in stunned silence.

  No! Don’t let her trick you, Kanou Shinichi! This is one giant trap. She just... She just wants to go to Japan because the standard of living is so high there. It’s not because she wants to be with you. Don’t get any weird ideas. Get your hopes up and they’ll only come crashing down. Just like with your old friend.

  My heart was going a million miles a minute, and I sat there trying to talk myself down.

  It had been about twenty days since my last inspection, and my “otaku training center”—that is, my school—was ready. I really got a sense of accomplishment when I looked at it, even though admittedly I hadn’t exactly done anything when it came to building it.

  “Ooh!”

  “This is going to be where we’ll meet starting tomorrow?”

  Behind me, the students were looking up at the building and sounding very impressed. There wasn’t actually a study group meeting today. They had just decided to come out here.

  All to see their brand-new place of learning.

  As far as I could tell, the people of the Eldant Empire knew what a private academy was, but not a public school. So study groups usually met in some borrowed room somewhere—a building dedicated specifically to study had never been built. The school struck them as exceedingly novel.

  “Those are all nobles...”

  “I wonder if it’s okay for us to be here...”

  Some distance away from us, a group of boys and girls had gathered to stare at the new structure—and at me and the noble students. A certain percentage of them were demi-humans. The elf children I had met on the training grounds were there, too.

  Good. I’m glad word got out to the commoners like I wanted.

  That’s right: this, more than anything else, was the reason I had built this school. If we wanted to spread otaku culture on the scale of a social phenomenon, we couldn’t limit ourselves to the nobility. If we didn’t get at the most numerous part of the population—the commoners—then this would all be for nothing.

  So I hadn’t held entrance exams for my new school. Plus, tuition would in principle be handled by the Eldant Empire and the Japanese government. In other words, anyone, noble or commoner, could enroll and study here.

  With the school in place, more people would be able to get the basic education necessary to spread otaku culture. In a word, this was an investment in the future.

  “It’s real. It’s really real. I just can’t help feeling a bit inspired,” I said as I stepped into the finished school for the first time.

  “I guess,” Minori-san said with an amused smile. She had been working here with her fellow JSDF members all throughout the construction.

  The other students followed after us. And then, some time later and at a significant distance, came the hesitant commoner and demi-human children.

  I had modeled the school more or less on a Japanese one. The exterior looked like any other Eldantic building, but inside it was basically Japanese, although there were some Eldantic touches as well. I had included all the things I was used to seeing in a school: blackboards, clocks, desks and chairs, fire extinguishers in the hallways, and so on.

  That might have been part of why the students were looking around in such amazement.

  And...

  “Master.”

  I turned at the voice to find Myusel, dressed for an excursion, carrying something into the building.

  “Myusel? What’s going on?”

  “
You forgot your lunch,” she said with a smile.

  “Huh? Oh, uh—”

  I had forgotten it. When I told Myusel that I was going to go see the new school building this afternoon, she’d said she would pack me a lunch. She always did the cooking at home, but maybe a packed lunch was different somehow, because she had really seemed excited.

  “And you brought it to me? All the way out here?!”

  “Yes, sir. Um... I haven’t caused you any trouble, have I?” An anxious expression immediately came over her face.

  “No!” I exclaimed. “None at all! I’m very happy!”

  What I really meant was: to think the day would come when I would reach that gold standard where the girl I’m living with brings me the lunch I forgot!!

  I was losing myself in these waves of happiness when, suddenly, the air in the room changed. The students and all the onlookers went completely silent. Wondering what it could be, I turned around and...

  “Oh, Petralka—I mean, Your Majesty.”

  “Mm!”

  Petralka was standing proudly smack in the center of the hallway. Two royal guards armed with swords stood behind her.

  After an instant of silence, a murmur spread among the gathered people.

  “It’s the empress! Her Majesty is here!”

  The kids who attended our study sessions were less startled, but for the commoners and demi-humans, Petralka might as well have lived in the sky. Her sudden appearance understandably startled them.

  People scrambled aside to make way for Petralka. They pressed themselves against the walls and knelt or bowed their heads; elves and dwarves fell to both knees to show respect. All of a sudden, the hallway of my school was a very, very somber place.

  It’s rude of me to say, but I had almost forgotten that she was the ruler of this country. Petralka, however, looked completely at ease walking among the bowing people. She stopped in front of Myusel and me and nodded with her usual hint of superiority.