Spice and Wolf - Volume 7 - Chapter Aft

Hello again. This is Hasekura.

I thought it hadn’t been too long since last time, but as I wrote this afterword and thought about it, it’s been two months. It used to be that even a week seemed like an eternity, but time passes so fast now.

That’s probably because I sleep about sixteen hours a day. Lately I have difficulty telling the difference between dreams and reality. Temporally speaking, I spend more time asleep. Thus two months feels to me like but one, I imagine.

Now then, this volume is a bit different than the previous long-form books.

It includes a novella and a short story that were featured on the Dengeki website, along with a new short story I wrote.

The novella is a tale from Holo’s past, and the short stories are interludes from the main arc of the books.

In the novella we see Holo’s big-sisterly side, and the shorter pieces feature her gluttony. Where did Lawrence go off to? One can’t help but feel bad for him.

But what I’d most like to talk about here is the new piece.

It’s the first one written from Holo’s perspective.

At first I was really very worried about whether or not I would be able to write from her perspective at all, but when I gave it a try, it was actually a lot of fun—so much so that when I go back and reread it, I can tell that I was really enjoying writing it. So I truly hope you all enjoy it as much as I did.

Speaking of which—this is a total subject change—recently I took a ride in a certain author’s 420-horsepower car.

420 horsepower. It’s like, where in Japan are you going to go with that much power? It was more like a roller coaster than a car. When you accelerate, all your blood drains to your lower body, and when you slow down, you can feel it come rushing back.

It looked supercool, too, and since I don’t know cars, it was a really memorable experience.

However, I’m sorry to say that while the car was amazing, the destination of the four shabby-from-all-nighters authors that piled into it was not a night view of some beautiful bay-side road, but rather a hot springs where we could relax our cramped shoulders.

And although we’re all getting up in age, we were really excited to put on our yukata, and once somebody said, “Hey, let’s go sliding!” we were soon slip-sliding all over the wooden floors. This is all the more amazing since none of us were drunk. For the sake of my own pride, I should say that I did not participate in such unbecoming games. It’s true, I swear.

Later, we all abused each others’ terrible physical condition, then arm wrestled, had push-up contests, and then took purikura photos. It was like being back in junior high.

To get home, of course, we rode in the 420-horsepower supercar.

I do worry about my little scooter taking revenge on me, though.

And somehow after writing all that, I’ve filled up the page.

The next volume will return to the main story.

I’d like to think I can give Lawrence a chance to be a little cooler, but who knows.

Until we meet again.

Isuna Hasekura