Little Pink Starfish

“…You’re asking why I chose to do music?”

At Vanessa Bernstein’s question, the Demon God nodded.

“Well… why did I, I wonder?”

At those words, Vanessa’s lips pursed. The Demon God sighed. Why had she even wanted to be asked in the first place if she couldn’t answer properly? Shaking her head in exasperation, she let out a breath.

“Ah, I remember now.”

Clapping her hands, Vanessa spoke.

“There wasn’t really a reason.”

“…I see.”

A bitter smile spread across the Demon God’s face.

“But it doesn’t matter, does it? I became famous anyway. Made plenty of money. Not many people hate me. So who cares why I started?”

“So basically, since it worked out, the beginning doesn’t matter.”

“Something like that.”

Vanessa shrugged.

She really is troublesome, the Demon God thought, sweeping back her hair.

‘Can I really call this woman human?’

The Demon God briefly wondered. As a being outside humanity, she had a certain objectivity in evaluating humans.

‘Humans do not act alone.’

It is their nature to always move in groups.

A human left alone is considered a failure.

‘And yet, humans yearn for solitude.’

Paradoxically so.

They cannot act alone, yet desire to push ahead alone.

‘And all of this…’

Her gaze turned toward Vanessa Bernstein.

‘…does not apply to her.’

Humans have fairy tales, the Demon God recalled. She had read a few. Such a strange culture.

For demons, young creatures were merely larvae to be crushed. Left unchecked, they would grow quickly. Hell lacked resources. Low-ranking demons were culled to reduce mouths to feed. High-ranking ones were killed before they grew stronger. There was no concept of parent and child. Demons did not reproduce; young demons constantly emerged from the scorched rivers that made up Hell.

But lifeforms in the human world were different. Humans, especially, revered the act of raising and protecting children. Thus, they read stories to them—books with pictures and simple sentences, seated together.

‘This woman is like a princess from those fairy tales.’

That’s what the Demon God thought.

If asked to define Vanessa Bernstein, she would say Vanessa was like a princess who endured long isolation, severed from the world.

For some reason, princesses in ancient tales are always trapped in seclusion. One falls into a deep sleep, another is imprisoned in a tall tower. Just like Vanessa, locked in a bunker by Matteo Bernstein.

‘But the world she lives in isn’t a fairy tale.’

Though she escaped her father’s grasp, Vanessa wasn’t truly free. She was ruled by chilling naïveté and a gentle cruelty born of harmless emotions.

“What if you didn’t have musical talent?”

When the Demon God asked, Vanessa answered without hesitation.

“Then I would’ve ended up like everyone else.”

Like all the others who failed, she muttered.

The Demon God had watched Vanessa as she navigated CYB in America. It had been shocking to behold.

Modern entertainers were unlike those of the past. They had Constellations behind them. While others crafted performances using divine power, Vanessa sang alone without borrowing any authority.

During her winning performance in CYB’s solo artist division, Vanessa displayed no hesitation.

While her rival crafted a stage with full use of Constellational powers, Vanessa merely toyed with her acoustic guitar like a child grasping a rattle. And so she stood on stage, guitar on her back, and simply sang.

‘Even though I’ve fallen to this state…’

Perhaps she could’ve used a bit of magic herself.

She wasn’t sure, having never tried.

But Vanessa needed none of that. All she required was her voice to pour out her thoughts, and an instrument to lend her beautiful sounds.

― It’s like watching an ancient artist from bygone eras.

One of the judges had remarked.

He was right. Vanessa might be one of the few remaining old-school artists in this world. Yet few believed she sang without any Constellation’s aid.

― May I ask what authority you invoked for this performance?

When asked, Vanessa had answered with a playful smile.

“All the power I have.”

An ambiguous answer. She had no powers, so perhaps not using any could be counted as a power of its own.

“Have you never thought of this?”

Thus, the Demon God asked again.

“If you had worked with a proper Constellation instead of me, you might’ve become even more famous. You probably could’ve shopped around and picked whichever Constellation you wanted, unlike other artists.”

“Well… maybe?”

Vanessa tilted her head.

“Probably. After all, choosing you was my decision. If I’d asked the Savior Who Is One and All, anything could’ve been granted.”

“Don’t you regret it?”

“Why would I?”

Her eyes widened.

“Why should I regret it?”

“Well… you might’ve reached even greater heights. Maybe you’re stuck here because of me.”

Of course, Vanessa was already at great heights. She had won the most competitive CYB division in America and maintained a successful career. Her popularity wouldn’t likely fade anytime soon—unless she suddenly overdosed or something.

But human greed has no end.

The Demon God knew this well. Demons had always exploited human desire.

“If I genuinely loved music, maybe I would regret it.”

However, there was no greed in Vanessa’s voice.

“If I loved music, if I enjoyed it wholeheartedly, then maybe I’d regret it. But I don’t particularly love music. I happened to try it, and since I was good at it, I kept going. So, I have no regrets.”

What about you? Vanessa asked the Demon God.

“Don’t you regret it?”

“…Me?”

The Demon God narrowed her eyes.

“What do you mean by that?”

Regret for invading the human world? Don’t be ridiculous.

Her lips curled into a grin. She felt no regret. If she could return to Hell, she would open the Gate and invade again, countless times.

What was there to regret? Even now, fully blended into the human world, nothing had changed. She had colleagues whose well-being she genuinely wished for, but if invasion resumed, she would readily take their lives.

Humans were the same. They were exploiters of this world. They wiped out countless species, grew fond of some, and slaughtered others for profit. They cuddled animals that fit their aesthetic, and devoured the meat of those that didn’t. Why hesitate to kill such creatures?

“Don’t you regret… making music with me?”

Yet Vanessa’s next question was unexpectedly silly.

“…What do you mean?”

The Demon God’s frozen expression softened.

“After all, you’re my manager, and that makes you my colleague, right? The fashion designer, the producer, and you—everyone’s making music with me. You didn’t have to be my manager. You could’ve stayed beside me in some other way. You didn’t need to follow me on tour. You could’ve just been my neighbor.”

It was true. Though they were bound by contract, the Demon God didn’t need to remain by her side at every moment. She was more like a dog on a very long leash. Becoming her manager had been entirely her own choice.

‘…It was out of curiosity.’

Simply because she was curious how far this unbelievably ignorant woman could go.

That’s why she could answer this way.

“I don’t regret it. Making music with you.”

The Demon God spoke bluntly.

“Really?”

Vanessa tilted her head.

“That’s surprising. I thought you would regret it. Because you seem to love music more than I do. You listen to all sorts of artists, go to concerts on your days off.”

“That’s…”

The Demon God sighed.

At first, it had been for research. But at some point, she had to admit she’d started enjoying it. After all, Hell had no such thing as music. Only screams and howls filled that land. It was only after blending into the human world that she came to understand the pleasure of sound.

“It’s just part of my job.”

Yet she didn’t want to admit it. She mustn’t admit it.

That Vanessa Bernstein’s singing was sweeter than any other artist’s melody.

The Demon God hid her expression and flicked away her cigarette butt.

Then she turned and walked ahead.

Leaning against the wall, Vanessa quietly watched her retreating back.

“Aren’t you coming?”

The Demon God glanced back and asked.

“I am.”

With a calm smile, Vanessa followed after her.

The darkening sky stretched the Demon God’s shadow long across the ground.

Staring down at that long, dark shadow, Vanessa thought:

‘I’ve never once regretted it.’

Having the Demon God by her side.

‘Because you’re…’

In some ways, so very much like me.