Shiranui Flare IF Route: An Endless Song for You, Covered in Ashes
I'm Shiranui Flare. I was a top virtual elf streamer, having a blast with my fans, when my screen went white—and I woke up in a strange city.
This is the Lazberil Kingdom, a place where elves are discriminated against by humans. Seriously?! The idea of me being the one discriminated against isn't even funny enough to be a streaming gag. But I got caught up in the commotion and thrown in jail. That's when I was saved by Lucas, a totally weird human merchant.
Lucas doesn't care about the elf t
Shiranui Flare IF Route: An Endless Song for You, Covered in Ashes - A fated encounter in a back alley! A peculiar merchant who couldn't care less about elf discrimination is born!
The coldness of the cobblestones still lingers on my cheek.
My shoulder, twisted up by the guard, throbs with a dull ache. My knees, pressed hard against the ground, feel scraped raw too.
But.
"[serious]So, what did you want to talk about?"
The man in front of me looks like he just stopped by in the middle of a stroll.
His dusty blond hair, tousled and unruly, is tied back carelessly. His drooping brown eyes show no anger, no pity. Just the pure expression of someone who's "found something interesting."
The brass balance-scale pendant hanging from his neck sways in the lamplight of the Lanterna Inn.
Shiranui Furea lifts her tear-streaked face.
Through vision blurred by tears, she takes another look at Lucas. He's tall. A lanky frame dressed in traveling clothes that look easy to move in. But the leather bag slung over his shoulder has conspicuously fine metal fittings, marking him immediately as a merchant.
"[crying]W-why... why did you save an elf like me?"
Her voice trembles.
The terror from just moments ago surges up from the pit of her stomach.
If she'd been taken to that forced labor camp, what would have become of her?
Just thinking about it sends a chill down her spine.
"[serious]Species doesn't matter."
Lucas says it bluntly, without hesitation.
"[surprised]Huh?"
"[laughing]More importantly, it's how you were talking earlier. When you were making excuses to the guards. That was impressive."
"[surprised]My... way of talking?"
"[serious]You rattled off your case one-sidedly to someone you'd just met. While explaining your situation, you were reading the other person's expression. Choosing your words, trying to get a little laugh. That wasn't just an excuse. That was a sales pitch."
Lucas folds his arms.
The balance-scale pendant chimes softly again.
Furea's mind reels.
(A sales pitch? I was just desperate to explain myself...)
"[gentle]And on top of that, you've got guts. A normal elf would've been trembling and done for the moment the guards surrounded them. You were different."
"[sad]I was trembling, at the end..."
"[laughing]Well, of course. Anyone would tremble at that. But even while trembling, you were still trying to say something, right? That's what's good."
Furea looks down at her own hands.
Her fingers are still shaking a little.
But—this man called that trembling version of me "good."
"[serious]I'm an oddball. Species, status—none of that matters to me. What matters is whether it's profitable. And whether it's interesting."
"[surprised]Whether it's profitable..."
"[excited]That gift of gab of yours reeks of business. Letting talent like that go to a forced labor camp would be a loss on a national level."
Lucas says it with a straight face.
It's impossible to tell if he's joking or serious.
Furea can't help but burst out laughing.
"[laughing]W-what is that... So basically, you're recruiting me?"
"[serious]That's right. In exchange for me being your guarantor, how about going into business together?"
Lucas holds out his right hand.
It's a rugged, merchant's hand.
There are scars. Fingertips slightly yellowed from chemicals.
A hand that has traveled to many places and handled many goods.
"[serious]It's a business partner contract. We'll be equals. I won't hold back just because you're an elf. And in return, I won't expect you to hold back either. Sound good?"
Furea stares intently at that hand.
(Business partners...)
In this world, is it even possible for an elf to be "equals" with a human?
But this man said it.
And besides—this man praised my "talking skills."
That's the thing I treasured most back in my streamer days.
Day after day, I kept talking, wanting to make the listeners on the other side of the screen laugh, wanting to entertain them.
That skill works in this world too.
Just thinking that made a warmth spread deep in her chest.
"[laughing]...You know, that's what they call a sales pitch."
With a face still messy from tears, Furea smiled.
And then—she grasped Lucas's hand tightly in return.
——*——*——
The next morning.
A corner of the dining hall on the first floor of the Lanterna Inn.
"[excited]—And so, this is my collection of inventions!"
Lucas plops a heavy leather backpack onto the table with a thud.
Furea watches it while shoveling bread porridge into her mouth.
(What could it be... I'm half excited, half anxious.)
"[excited]First, check this out!"
What Lucas pulls out is a long, slender metal rod.
It has several joints and seems to extend and contract.
But that's all it is.
"[surprised]...What's this?"
"[excited]Extend it, and it becomes a drying pole! Fold it up, and it fits neatly into your backpack! The perfect travel companion—a portable closet bar!"
"[sarcastic]Isn't that just a foldable rod? A closet... really?"
"[serious]There's more."
He ignored me.
The next thing he pulls out is a liquid in a small ceramic bottle.
When Lucas pulls the cork, it makes a *psshh* sound.
Furea's ears twitch.
(That sound just now... carbonation?)
"[excited]Try drinking it. It'll perk you up."
Furea takes the bottle and puts a little in her mouth.
Immediately, a tingling, popping sensation dances on her tongue.
"[surprised]W-what is this!? My mouth feels weird!"
"[laughing]I fermented medicinal herbs to give it a carbonated flavor. There's mint in it too, so drinking it in the morning will wake you right up."
"[surprised]This... could this actually be an amazing invention?"
"[sad]No, well, that's the thing. It's lukewarm, and the flavor's so strong and peculiar that it hasn't sold at all so far..."
"[sad]Ah, I see..."
Lucas continues, lining up one curious product after another on the table: a small stone that only glows faintly in the dark, a portable curtain that rolls itself up automatically but stops immediately, an insect-repelling incense that's far too pungent.
Each time, Furea holds her head in her hands.
"[scared]You seriously want me to sell this stuff!? I mean, why is every single one of them so underwhelming!?"
"[serious]It's fine. If I make ten and sell one, that's a success. I'm counting on that mouth of yours to figure something out."
"[surprised]Figure something out... You're planning to bet everything on my talking skills!?"
"[laughing]Of course. I'm going to be your guarantor. I'm investing in your talent."
Lucas declares it with a straight face.
He's serious.
This guy is seriously trying to sell everything based solely on my gift of gab.
In the first place, isn't a guarantor normally supposed to choose someone a bit more... safe?
(This guy's ridiculous.)
But—
Furea looks over the underwhelming products on the table.
In my past streams, I faced plenty of crises too.
Equipment trouble, broadcast accidents, the comments section going wild—each time, I got through it by ad-libbing.
(It's not like it's impossible... probably.)
"[laughing]...Alright, leave it to me!"
Furea jumps to her feet with vigor.
"[excited]If I'm doing this, I'm selling with everything I've got! Don't underestimate elves! I'll make you see what my talking skills can do!"
——*——*——
The Central Market, Porta Square.
This square at the heart of the royal capital, Clevista, is buzzing with incredible energy from the morning.
Colorful tents crowd together, the sweet smell of fruit, the fragrant aroma of freshly baked bread, and the fishy stench of dried fish all mingling.
The shouting voices of merchants hawking their wares. The creaking of handcart wheels on cobblestones. The flapping of chicken wings.
In a corner, Furea spreads out a small cloth.
On top of it, she arranges Lucas's curious products.
"[whispers]...Alright."
She looks around.
Several gazes are already directed her way.
More precisely—at my ears.
Long, pointed, elven ears.
"[whispers]An elf's doing business, huh." "[sarcastic]Probably selling weird nuts or something." "[cold]I wonder if she even has a guarantor."
The hushed voices fly at her, deliberately loud enough to hear.
(Well, that's within expectations.)
Furea smiles brightly.
Compared to the troll comments on my streams, this is nothing.
"[excited]Hey there, hey there! Miss! Please, come take a look!"
Furea casually picks up the foldable metal rod.
Startled by the loud voice, a woman passing by stops in her tracks.
"[excited]What do you think this is? A magic wand? A weapon? No, it's not! You see—extend it, hang your clothes, and you've got a closet anywhere! The perfect travel companion, the 'Portable Closet Bar'!"
Furea extends the rod with a *shing*.
Then, she casually drapes her own jacket over it.
"[excited]Look! With this, your inn room becomes a stylish space in an instant! And folded up, it's this compact! It fits right into the corner of your backpack!"
"[surprised]Huh..."
"[excited]And for customers who purchase today, a free tasting of this inventor's homemade herbal carbonated water! Please, try it! It'll wake you right up in the morning! A new sensation, a stimulating beverage—'Morning Fizz'!"
The woman timidly accepts the small ceramic bottle and takes a sip.
Immediately, she blinks rapidly.
"[surprised]W-what is this. My mouth feels so strange..."
"[laughing]Right, right! That tingly sensation is addictive! It's a 'drinkable alarm clock' that blows away your morning sluggishness! How about it, would you like a bottle?"
Before she knows it, a crowd of onlookers has gathered around Furea's voice.
People who were initially watching with curiosity and contempt now have their eyes sparkling, fixed on Furea's hands.
One of the onlookers samples the carbonated water and shouts, "It's all fizzy in my mouth!"
"[excited]That fizz is what's great! From today, you too are a slave to the fizz!"
A burst of laughter erupts.
Riding the momentum, Furea pulls out the insect-repelling incense.
"[excited]And here we have this! For those of you who can't sleep because of the sound of bugs at night—'Goodnight Aroma Incense'! The smell is a little strong, but that's proof of its effectiveness! Just one of these turns the inside of your tent into a forest resort!"
"[laughing]What the heck is that!"
"[excited]Want to try it? Just a little, because the smell is strong! See, the front of the shop is instantly a herb garden!"
When Furea lights the incense burner, a thick, pungent smell spreads.
"[laughing]It stinks!"
"[excited]Not 'stinks'! Forest resort! Now, close your eyes—imagine an alpine meadow! ...See, it keeps the bugs away, right!"
"[laughing]You're making us imagine it!"
Laughter erupts again.
But even while laughing, one by one, people pick up the products.
Lucas stands frozen behind her, his jaw hanging open.
"[surprised]...She actually sold them."
——*——*——
Dusk.
By the time the market starts closing up, the products in front of Furea are completely gone.
The copper coins from the sales fill a small cloth bag.
"[excited]Lucas! Did you see!? They all sold! Even that weird glowing stone sold!"
"[serious]...Today's sales are three times the usual amount."
"[excited]Yay! My talking skills worked in another world too!"
Furea does a quick spin on the spot.
Her long platinum blonde hair flutters softly. The purple inner color on the right side sparkles in the evening sun.
At that moment, Lucas says with a serious face.
"[serious]...Let's go greet Sara."
"[surprised]Sara?"
"[gentle]My fiancée. She runs an herb shop. I want to introduce you."
——*——*——
The herb shop "Tirherb" is on a quiet street a little ways from the market.
Opening the door, a thick scent of medicinal herbs washes over her.
Bundles of dried herbs hang from the ceiling, and ceramic jars line the shelves against the walls.
"[gentle]Oh my, Lucas. Making weird things again..."
From the back of the counter, honey-colored, soft, wavy hair emerges.
She's petite, with deep forest-green eyes. A small braid above her left ear.
On the ring finger of her left hand, a silver ring with an herb pendant glimmers.
Sara Tirherb wears a smile that makes you feel at ease j
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