Lost Child of the Dawn

by Mamare Touno

  “It really does.”

  Henrietta agreed with the blond girl who was walking beside her.

  Her companion took a voluminous muffler out of her Magic Bag and wound it around her neck. From the way the extra at the ends hung down her back, it seemed to have been made for a man. “What is this, anyway? It’s hard to wear. Bulky, too.” The girl looked adorable in the getup as she grumbled, and Henrietta rearranged the muffler for her.

  With the lower half of her expression buried in the scarf, Riezé replied to the assistance, “Thank you very much.” She was quite possibly embarrassed; she kept her eyes averted as she spoke.

  “No, no, it was nothing,” Henrietta responded, giggling.

  This new, younger friend of hers looked like a flawlessly perfect, proper young lady on the outside, and it was likely that the girl herself probably wanted to adhere to that image, but her true colors showed through here and there, and it was very cute. She was probably younger than she looked.

  “You needn’t work so hard. You’re quite enough of a lady already.”

  “Pardon?”

  She smiled at Riezé, who’d turned back to look at her, and pushed her shoulder.

  “All right, come on. If we don’t hurry, they’ll close on us.”

  “True.”

  In this way, the two of them set off for the central avenue.

  Henrietta was a member of the Crescent Moon League, while Riezé belonged to D.D.D. However, although their guilds were different, it wasn’t unusual for them to go home from the tea party at Water Maple Manor together like this. Marielle and Serara had returned to the guild a bit earlier to help with the dinner preparations, and Henrietta and Riezé planned to take a slight detour and buy a few side dishes.

  Being able to enjoy delicious food every day was a happiness the Adventurers had rediscovered in their lives after the Catastrophe, but it was also a bit of a burden. In order to make food that tasted like anything, the subclass “Chef” was necessary, and as far as Henrietta knew, such players made up only a small percentage of the population.

  Following the establishment of the Round Table Council, players had switched subclasses and the percentage had grown. However, it wasn’t unusual for small guilds with ten members or less to have no Chefs among their members. Meanwhile, it was only natural to find Chefs in huge guilds with several hundred members, but preparing meals for several hundred people every day was a great burden.

  At present, dining out and take-out meals prepared by People of the Earth were compensating for these circumstances.

  “What will you buy, Miss Henrietta?”

  “Fried chicken, perhaps. Mari has been whining that she wants some.”

  They’d reached the food stall mall, and, chatting, they began to make their purchases. The People of the Earth salesclerks were old hands at this as well. In terms of time, they were thinking of getting ready to close up their stalls, and they raised their voices, trying to sell off the day’s remaining wares.

  “Fried chicken? Did you say fried chicken, miss? Buy mine! It’s garlic-flavored, and it’s yours for three gold coins per kilo!!”

  Henrietta, lavishly, purchased three kilos of the stuff.

  There were forty hungry Adventurers at the Crescent Moon League, and an amount like this wouldn’t count as a lot. They’d polish it off in no time flat.

  Next to her, Riezé was buying quiches with hazelnuts. D.D.D. was a major guild with its own cooking unit, so this was probably a present or a snack.

  The mall was fairly busy.

  In order to weave their way through the river of Adventurers who’d come to shop, Henrietta and Riezé had to pay careful attention to their surroundings. In particular, groups which had returned from the subjugation wore rugged armor and carried long staffs, so they tended to take up more space than people in the old world.

  By the time they’d finished buying their preferred items and had reached the mall’s exit, Henrietta’s impressions of the tea party had faded. Just walking through the mall was mentally tiring, and her feelings were focused on the meal ahead at the guild hall.

  As a result, when Riezé casually murmured, “Akatsuki looks as if she’s suffering,” the words startled her. Still, Henrietta had been concerned about that lately as well.

  “She seems that way to you, too, then?”

  “Yes, she does.”

  Akatsuki had seemed listless lately. She’d always been rather shy and reserved, and she hadn’t been the type to actively get involved with other people. Since she made things look all right on the surface, most people probably wouldn’t notice, but Henrietta knew. After all, she’d been watching Akatsuki ever since the Catastrophe.

  However, she found it a bit unexpected that Riezé had noticed as well. She’d only begun seeing Akatsuki frequently since she started to attend the tea parties held at Raynesia’s manor. In other words, it had only been two weeks or so.

  Henrietta’s opinion of Riezé improved a bit.

  “Akatsuki has more experience at this than I do, doesn’t she?”

  When Riezé said “more experience,” was she referring to age, or did she mean game experience? Henrietta didn’t know, and she nodded vaguely.

  “—I don’t really know, either. I do hear she’s a very skilled Assassin. As a matter of fact, I thought she probably was.”

  As they left the mall and walked down a road lined with greenery toward the guild center, Riezé continued to murmur. In the cold midwinter air, the girl’s white breath seemed to enfold her words.

  “She seems to have come to watch D.D.D. train once. Or rather, I’m not sure it was only once. I mean that I personally noticed her once. She watched us train for more than four hours.”

  “Did she…?”

  It was the only response Henrietta could give.

  She had picked up on Akatsuki’s distress, indirectly. However, what had the few hours she spent watching a top-class combat guild train made that little girl feel? Henrietta could imagine that the pain had probably made her chest groan, but she couldn’t say she understood the pain itself.

  Henrietta was an ordinary Adventurer, one who’d never participated in a raid. This world aside, when Elder Tales had been a game, she’d never been among the top-class Adventurers whose names were listed in the rankings.

  “At first we thought she wanted to join the guild. It rather sounds like bragging for me to say this, but we aren’t too shabby of an outfit. When it comes to challenging raids, we have the best environment in Akiba— Or at any rate, we work diligently to make it so… Although our staff is composed entirely of morons. As they are morons, when it comes to combat, they’re just like children. No, they are children. More than children. Über-children. They’re high-maintenance children, and they strike out for raids like Americans flocking to a barbecue… And so we thought she wanted to join.”

  “I doubt that’s the case.”

  “—You’re right. We understood that almost immediately.”

  As Henrietta pointed this out, Riezé nodded, with her gaze still turned to the ground.

  “We did report it to Milord, just to be safe. Some thought she might be a spy. But his response was ‘Leave her.’ He said to let her watch, unrestricted.”

  For a short while, the sound of boots walking over damp fallen leaves continued.

  “It appears this rather upset our proud, childish members. I doubt he had misgivings about it, but later on, Milord gave me a special mission…”

  The beautiful blond girl’s expression was embarrassed, yet somehow proud. At the sight, Henrietta gave a furtive sigh. Wasn’t having feelings for Krusty almost an act of barbarism? When she remembered the big man who scattered around unreasonable demands with a nonchalant expression, she couldn’t help but feel sympathetic.

  However, she pointed out to herself, Akatsuki—who’d fallen for Shiroe—was no different.

  In comparison, things were quite peaceful for Henrietta herself.

  True, when she tho
ught of Shiroe, she did feel a faint, sweet ache, but the emotion was well within the permissible range. In this world, where there wasn’t much in the way of entertainment, being able to watch Shiroe and Akatsuki—or Shiroe and Minori—being close and savor the ache in her chest was an act similar to reaffirming her own happiness.

  Quiet, unreciprocated love from a safe distance. Since she was satisfied with that, it would have been impertinent of her to feel appalled at Riezé and Akatsuki.

  “According to Krusty… I mean, Master Krusty, he owes Shiroe a debt of some sort. That’s why he’s allowing Akatsuki to observe without restriction. He also said to accommodate her if anything happens. We aren’t allowed to be aggressively kind to her or to recruit her, but…”

  Paying no heed to Henrietta’s thoughts, Riezé stopped speaking.

  “Is that how it was…?”

  Henrietta thought that that sort of thing could happen.

  Even Shiroe probably wasn’t aware of Krusty’s thoughtfulness.

  Men seemed to be quite tedious, or rather, roundabout. If he was going to be considerate, why hadn’t he simply spoken to her and heard what she had to say? However, considering Akatsuki’s current position, she thought being spoken to might only have troubled the Assassin.

  In any case, I think what dear Akatsuki wants is…probably confidence.

  That was difficult.

  For a certain type of person, having it was only natural, and they never thought about how to acquire it.

  Marielle was like that. Like a golden sunflower, Henrietta’s good friend illuminated her surroundings with boundless light. Henrietta didn’t have the confidence to smile that way. She thought she’d probably never have enough conviction to embrace her surroundings like that, not as long as she lived.

  That was something unique to Marielle, something most people, including Henrietta, didn’t have.

  On the other hand, Henrietta knew there were people who could never have anything resembling confidence, no matter what they did or how they struggled. For that sort of person, time spent living was probably terrible torture. Henrietta had seen people with frightened, subservient eyes. By the time you were old enough to graduate from college, you’d met several people like that. No matter where they were, that sort of person was either tired and afraid of not fitting in, or they aggressively threatened those around them.

  When she considered herself, Henrietta thought she probably fell somewhere in the middle.

  She wasn’t able to have unshakeable conviction, the sort of confidence that allowed her to believe she could never lose what was precious to her. However, as a result of hard work and experience, she could anticipate what she would be able to do.

  For example, she’d probably be able to stay on good terms with a handful of friends.

  She’d be able to do her job well enough that it wouldn’t cause problems for the company.

  Marriage… Now that this uproar had occurred and arranged marriages were no longer an option, she honestly didn’t think she’d be able to manage it, but even so, spending her time as her guild’s accountant while poking fun at her friends’ romances would probably make for a surprisingly pleasant future.

  It wasn’t likely that she’d find herself playing a heroic part in their endeavors to return to the old world, but she could use the techniques she’d learned so far to protect the younger members.

  That was how Henrietta pictured herself.

  She couldn’t do what she couldn’t do, but she was able to do what she could.

  It was nothing special: an ordinary conclusion drawn by an average person.

  “It’s only natural to have wishes that won’t come true,” Riezé murmured, with her face half-buried in her menswear muffler.

  Yes, it was only natural.

  To ordinary people, it was far too routine.

  To most people, living meant getting used to the reality of not being able to have what you wanted. Henrietta was completely used to it. Riezé probably was as well.

  That didn’t mean the pain went away.

  There was probably no way around getting used to not having things. However, that wasn’t the same as growing numb to the pain of being unable to have them. That was stasis. If you didn’t get used to it, you couldn’t live, but if you grew too used to it, you might as well be dead.

  To Henrietta, there was something dazzling about Akatsuki.

  That awkward girl had an easily wounded weakness, one Henrietta had numbed in herself on the pretext of growth. It might be a weak point, but it was also an asset.

  At the same time, she knew that that tenderness was causing Akatsuki pain.

  Henrietta loved Akatsuki, and she didn’t want her to feel that anguish.

  However, she thought there really might be no help for it.

  She didn’t know how to help her, and in any case, it seemed as though it might not be the sort of thing other people could help with… To the point that, when she looked back at herself, she didn’t know how she’d become the person she was now.

  “It looks as though all we can do is simply be with her.”

  “…You’re right.”

  Riezé probably understood that as well. That was why her response had been a short one.

  Honestly, that pitch-black Master Kuroe!

  Henrietta heaved a great sigh, being careful not to let Riezé notice.

  That young man was too clever by half, but his closest confidante was in distress, and what was he doing? She’d thought Shiroe had the insight to see through anything, but apparently he was blind when it came to this sort of situation.

  Or maybe it isn’t that his eyes are good. Maybe he’s simply wearing a telescope he can’t take off.

  Thinking something that was just a little rude, Henrietta smiled wryly.

  She wanted to be kind enough to Akatsuki to make up for it. Tomorrow she’d bring clothes for Akatsuki as well and make it a dress-up day. Once she hit on that idea, Henrietta’s mood brightened in an instant. As she made a list of the clothes she was mentally pulling out, she excused herself by thinking, This is for Akatsuki’s sake.

  The indigo night was still peaceful.

  3

  There was a force that was attempting to recolor that same night with phenomenal determination.

  It was the guild known as “the showiest guild on the Yamato server,” “the harem group,” and “the young ladies with iron discipline”: the West Wind Brigade.

  Rumored to have the highest proportion of girls in Akiba (although not all its members were female), as its nickname indicated, the guild always radiated a showy atmosphere. In a first-floor hall, several dozen guild members were enthusiastically making preparations.

  Of course, most of the members were girls. However, there was nothing soft about the atmosphere. All sorts of beautiful women and girls were there, briskly tightening wrist guards and leggings, dressed as if headed for a showdown. As they exchanged whispers in low voices, all were indirectly watching Soujirou, their guild leader, in his Japanese-style haori coat.

  Soujirou, whose face still held something boyish, looked out over the hall. Twenty-four members were planning to sally forth into Akiba tonight: a team composed of four six-person parties, the same scale as a full raid. Of course, every one of them was skilled and at least level 90.

  “Everyone.”

  At Soujirou’s voice, the tension in the hall increased. Although twenty-four members were participating in the sortie, others must have been there to help with equipment or see them off: There were more than twice that many members gathered in the hall.

  “I know I’ve said this several times already, but we don’t know what the enemy really is. Whatever you do, please don’t get careless. Understand that his power is greater than yours…and mine. Don’t fight him one-on-one. I also forbid independent action. Make sure to move as a team, and report in as necessary. Nazuna will stay here as a contact.”

  “Yeah. I took the job, so I’ll do it, but… Don’
t do anything reckless, people. If you end up engaging with the target, use top-class combat formation and fight a delaying battle. This time around, we organized things so there’s two healers per team, so you won’t have enough attack power. Don’t think you’ll be able to do anything with just one team. Your duty is to pin ’im down, then call in. That’s it. Okay?”

  * * *

  Nazuna, who wore a loose dressing gown, spoke in a leisurely voice.

  The team that was about to head out was tense, and that was enough.

  Things would be fine. She believed in her guild mates.

  The West Wind Brigade was smaller than D.D.D. or the Knights of the Black Sword, but it had managed to stay in the fierce struggle to be the first one into battle thanks to its firm unity and strong sense of purpose.

  Now the West Wind Brigade was talking big about apprehending the criminal.

  Nazuna, whose abundant black hair was bound together at her back, gazed at each and every one of the members who were preparing to head out. There had been no oversights, either in equipment or in strategy. Nodding to the guild members, who were all raising cries of “Understood,” Nazuna continued:

  “All right, you’ll switch in two hours. We’ll organize the second strike unit and get them ready here. There’ll be a midnight snack waiting when you get back, and it’ll be a good one. Of course, you’ll be heading out again two hours after that, so don’t relax too much. Like Souji said, the other guy outranks us. Be careful about that. Okay, Souji, it’s all you.”

  “Hmm. Let’s see. I think you said everything I was going to say. All right, then, just one thing: The target killed one of us. —Cut him down.”

  Soujirou was a young man with an atmosphere like spring sunlight.

  His vaguely good-natured smile was the same as ever, but those words—which he’d spoken without raising his voice—froze the air in the hall. As if drawn by that cold air, the shoulders of one female Cleric trembled, and she screamed out her determination to get revenge in a voice that seemed to have been wrung from her stomach. It was already completely dark outside, but none of the members paid any attention to that.