by Sakon Kaidou
“A piece of silverwork. It had a crescent moon and a closed eye on it,” I said. To my knowledge, there was only one group of people that used that symbol. “He... Shijima was a member of The Lunar Society, wasn’t he?”
“Indeed he was.”
And that was exactly why Tsukikage had suggested helping us search for him back at the guild. Of course he could find the man — he already knew the answer.
Now that I think about it, that was probably the only reason why he made the suggestion, I thought.
“If you knew it, why did you say it was a secret?” I asked.
“Privacy is something to be respected, no?” he replied, and I couldn’t tell if he was serious or just blowing smoke.
“...All right, fine. But there’s something I want to know, no matter what.”
“Please, do ask away.”
“How... How’s Shijima doing?”
“That is private information, as well... But then again, there is no reason to hide it at this point...” he said before momentarily falling silent. “Very well. Allow me to explain it all from the beginning. When this is over, you will know his background... and his relationship to us...”
◇◇◇
Interlude: The Awakening
Torne Village, Outskirts, Underground, ■■■■ ■■ ■■■ ■■■■■ ■■■, ■■■■■■■■■■
It awoke.
Not because of the recent earthquake, no. The earth’s rumblings were of no consequence to it. Even so, there was no denying that its awakening was related to the quake.
Briefly after the tremor, a few rays of light began to leak through a crack in the bedrock burying its frame.
The earthquake had left an opening the size of a needle’s tip between it and the surface.
The amount of light was so miniscule it could barely be gauged. Its bedrock tomb was as still as dark as a starless night. But it just so happened that it made a huge difference for the creature.
To it, a darkness completely devoid of light and merely the darkest night possible were as different as one and zero.
“Ｋ ｙ Ａ ｈ ａ Ａ ｈ!” it cried, as absolute darkness coated the tomb.
No — light was still coming through the crack, but it was consuming it all.
“Ｋ Ｙ ａ ｈ Ａ Ｈ ａ ｈ Ａ Ｈ!” it cried — cackled — as it ate more light and turned it into energy.
It had slumbered for 300 years.
Buried within the earth, surrounded by unlight, with no food or drink for sustenance, still bearing the damage from the meteor, it had waited for light to finally reach it.
Like a hibernating animal, or perhaps a corpse, it had silently waited, unknown to anyone.
Now, this monster dreaded as “Ancient Legendary” had tasted its first light in centuries, and it couldn’t have asked for a better appetizer.
The once-slumbering entity would soon turn the aboveground festival into a feast.
Chapter Three: The Real Ichiro Shijima
The Tale of a Certain Man
As I’ve already mentioned, Ichiro Shijima is one of our adherents.
Although young Louie does not recall it, Lady Tsukuyo and I met his family awhile ago. After all, Mr. Shijima was the leader of The Lunar Society’s battle unit. We even went to congratulate him after he married Mrs. Farica.
Now then, of course we know of Mr. Shijima’s current whereabouts. But before I reveal them to you, I must tell you about everything else. From the beginning to the end.
First, allow me to tell you of The Lunar Society’s origin.
Now now, patience, please. No need for anger. I assure you, this is relevant. We cannot omit it if we wish to talk about where he is now.
Now, I’m certain Fujibayashi already knows this, but The Lunar Society was founded nearly a century ago, in postwar Japan. At the time, Lady Tsukuyo’s ancestor and the person who would go on to become the founder of The Lunar Society, Master Gessei Fuso, was working as a doctor.
As you surely know, the postwar period was a very dark time. People lacked the materials they needed to recover from the damage, and death was with them at every step.
Some had battle wounds that grew more severe with every passing day, some became ill due to malnutrition, some turned mentally or emotionally ill and attempted suicide, and some were even worse. In a word, it was “hellish.”
Master Gessei is said to have been a kindly doctor who treated people regardless of profit.
That, of course, attracted many patients to him, many of which brought even more death. Countless people lost their lives. Even those who could’ve been saved in optimal circumstances died because of a lack of food or medicine.
Eventually, he came to notice the abject despair in many of their eyes.
Some say that “health is a state of mind,” and if there is any truth to that, then the patients had a terminal illness. Their hearts were as good as dead.
Being the doctor that he was, Master Gessei spent a lot of time pondering how to help them.
At the very least, he wanted to give them hope.
Sadly, it was an age when there just weren’t enough material goods to remove their illnesses or hunger — the cause of their despair. Japan would need more time until it was back on its feet.
So, he figured that, if there was no hope here, he had to envision a different world. Even if the material world couldn’t save them, he could still try to save their hearts.
“Escape the shackles of flesh and betake yourself to the true world of souls. Embrace this free world and celebrate your liberty to your soul’s content.”
As you are aware, those are our teachings. Those teachings are what started The Lunar Society.
Our doctrine tells people that even if their bodies are impaired, their souls are always free to dream of a world where they’re unbound.
It was pure escapism. An idea based in fantasy, if not delusion. But even so, it made people think in terms their souls... effectively keeping their minds from yielding.
Indeed, our teachings can be rephrased as “Let’s feel good by thinking of nice things.” Many call it cult-like, but that’s all it is. It’s no different from modern mental health seminars.
Admittedly, the economic progress over the past century has turned Japan into a wealthy nation, and it’s hard to fault anyone for calling us a cult. Eventually, we gathered not only patients who had lost all hope, but also youths who were pessimistic about their futures.
Being the current spiritual leader, Lady Tsukuyo often worries if the foundation presented by Master Gessei suits the modern world. Things have changed a lot over the years, after all.
Eh?
“If she’s worried about her cult’s state, she should reconsider kidnapping people, you say?
That’s unavoidable, I’m afraid. Lady Tsukuyo’s personality and disposition as a woman are a different matter than her worries.
The way I see it, she wishes to have someone she has taken a liking to at her side. Ha ha ha! You’re right. Truly, that doesn’t change the fact that it’s a bother to you, Mukudori.
Back to the matter at hand...
Even after founding The Lunar Society, the Fuso family continued to run a hospital. On the surface, it had nothing to do with our organization. Additionally, it specialized in something different from most hospitals.
The term for it was “terminal care.”
It operated with the purpose of caring for those ailed by the worst of illnesses and letting them live out their final days in peace. But of course, if it was possible, we never neglected to focus on prolonging the patients’ lives or curing them altogether.
Mr. Ichiro Shijima was one of the hospital’s patients.
Before you make any assumptions, we did not urge him to join us in his moment of weakness — he was already an adherent before his disease worsened, and when it did, he was taken to the hospital.
Indeed, we are not that dirty. The Lunar Society avoids doing anything that could ge
t us arrested. Honest.
“The fact that you’re emphasizing it makes you look suspicious,” you say? Please, there’s no need to think that.
Anyway, let us go back to Mr. Shijima.
He was suffering from an incurable disease that set a limit on his remaining lifetime. He had been ardently seeking a cure ever since he was young, but alas, he had no luck.
Four years ago, our time, he joined The Lunar Society. He probably saw it as a good way to divert himself from his imminent death.
“Wasn’t his family against it,” you ask? The circumstances of his upbringing are personal information we are not allowed to reveal, but we can tell you that he had no living relatives at the time of his joining. What matters is that he joined and became one of our adherents.
We have a century of experience at diverting people, so I would like to believe we were able to ensure that his last four years weren’t burdened by fear of death.
Yes, you heard it correctly.
He joined us four years ago, when he had four years left to live.
At the time, the present day was going to be his absolute limit. Oh, but two years ago, they discovered a means of curing his disease. However, it had only a 10% chance of success.
It was the type of treatment that the body could vehemently reject, resulting in an instant death.
Yes, he chose not to go through it back then.
He was continuing to live through his final days, trying to divert himself from his upcoming death, when a certain turning point changed his life entirely.
It was the release of Infinite Dendrogram.
By the way, you two, where do you think the true value of VR lies? Oh no, I’m not trying to change the subject. This is an important preamble to what I am about to say.
Well? What do you think?
Of course, I’m not talking of failures like NEXT WORLD, but fully complete, dive-type dream games like Infinite Dendrogram.
Yes. The best VR transfers the five senses to the virtual world.
This means that even those whose bodies barely function can dive and experience being healthy as long as their brains and thoughts work as intended.
Because of this, at the turn of the millennium, we at The Lunar Society began looking into and funding VR technology. It was another thing our patients and adherents could look forward to. It gave them hope.
Of course, in the end, the perfected VR wasn’t any of those we financed, but one we knew next to nothing about — Infinite Dendrogram.
...Oh, but that is unrelated to the matter at hand.
By now, you can imagine just how much Mr. Shijima craved that.
No matter how hard he tried to ignore it, his end was drawing closer with every passing day. It was impossible for any of us to gauge his will to live and to feel alive.
Now, since we were making sure to try out all of the VR technology on the market, we secured a number of devices from Infinite Dendrogram’s first batch. One of them was presented to Mr. Shijima.
Thus, he logged in to Infinite Dendrogram and became the Master known as Ichiro Shijima, all for the purpose of escaping his limited days in reality and being free in the “true world of souls.”
It released him from the distress of his fading life, the pain of the encroaching death, and the world with no hope for him.
Having gained a vigorous body, special powers, and a sense of fulfillment that could never compare with anything he could gain in reality, he went on to live out his second life for all it was worth. It would not be wrong to state that he was more content than any of us. After all, he was given everything he had not been able to gain in his entire life.
Having all but forgotten his state in reality, one day, he chanced upon a certain boy and his mother. They were overwhelmed by a horde of monsters — despair made manifest — and could do nothing but wait for death.
The sight likely made him feel like he was looking at himself in real life. Or perhaps it reminded him of his late family.
Whatever the case, Ichiro Shijima used his powers as a Master to save the mother and child. He, who could do nothing but await death, saved those two, who were in a similar situation.
Though they had met by accident, to him, it was surely fate.
He kept on interacting with them, and it wasn’t long before they became a real family.
According to him, those days filled him with a warmth he had never felt before.
Yes, those are his own words. Exactly as I heard them.
After that, he went on to be blessed with a child, which was another thing he couldn’t experience here in the real world. The joy the news gave him was so immense that it made him remember himself on this side.
He was half-dead by this point, kept alive only by various kinds of life support, and it would’ve been a great surprise if he had lived for more than two months longer.
That was a mere half a year in Infinite Dendrogram. Needless to say, time was short for him.
He would die without growing old with his wife, without watching his stepson mature... or even seeing the face of his real child. It made him remember despair.
Words couldn’t describe the regret he most likely felt.
However, it wasn’t enough to break him. He found new hope when he remembered the treatment he had once refused, and this time, he decided to take it.
Of course, the illness had progressed since then. The chance of success had dropped, and it was a question whether it even reached 3% now.
He needed a miracle for it to succeed.
Even so, he was determined.
Lady Tsukuyo and I both asked him, “Why?”
He responded, “For a future where I live with my family.”
Thus, he went on to return to reality and underwent the treatment.
With that, the story ends.
“How did it turn out?” you ask?
You likely already know, Mukudori.
Miracles are only miracles because of how infrequently they occur.
◇◇◇
Torne Village
After parting with his friend, Louie began to walk back home.
One of the festival’s main events, the Windstar Dance, would soon begin at the village’s plaza, and he wanted to go there with his mother.
It was an event where families or lovers paired up and danced to their heart’s content. Many from the “other side” would call it a “folk dance.”
Last year, Farica had danced with Shijima, while Louie had danced with Juno. Sadly, Gringham hadn’t had a creature to pair with — not to mention he was too big — so he’d ended up just watching the event.
Remembering the somewhat-downhearted look on the lion’s face made Louie giggle.
Then he remembered Shijima’s excited dancing as Farica led him. Combined with memories of Juno’s weird choreography, it brought a pleasant warmth to his heart.
This year, however, Shijima wasn’t with them. That meant that neither Juno nor Gringham could be here, too, as they were his Embryo and mount. Farica, being pregnant, couldn’t dance, either.
Even so, the Windstar Dance, and the rest of the festival in general, was an event that reminded Louie of the fun times with his family.
If nothing else, he wanted to watch the dance along with his mother. Even if they couldn’t dance this year, he hoped that his whole family would be there next time: Farica, Shijima, Juno, Gringham, and his soon-to-be-born little brother or sister.
“...Huh?” he exclaimed, stopping. Something strange was entering his vision.
It was a mountain not too far from the village. A flash of light burst out of one of its corners, and a short while later, a black object broke out of there and rose towards the skies.
It sounded a voice that could disturb the sanity of anyone listening.
“Ｋ ｙ ａ Ｈ ａ ｈ Ａ ｈ ａ ｈ Ａ Ｈ ａ ｈ Ａ ｈ ａ Ｈ!”
◇◇◇
Paladin, Ray Starling
Right after our talk with Tsukikage,
we logged back in to Infinite Dendrogram.
We’d talked for about 30 minutes, which was an hour and a half in the game. The Sun was still high up, and the festival still had a lot going for it. But neither I nor B3 were in any mood to enjoy it any further.
“...”
We were both completely silent. What we’d heard from Tsukikage was too damn grim.
Louie was searching for his dad, while Farica was awaiting for her husband to return. But the cold, harsh truth was that they would never see Shijima again.
“...This leaves a bad taste in my mouth,” I muttered.
“Looking back on it, we could have predicted this when Farica suggested that we not search for him,” commented B3. “She already knew that Mr. Shijima was risking his life for something on the ‘other side.’ And the fact that he isn’t back yet... means she probably realizes what happened to him.”
“...I guess so.”
In Infinite Dendrogram, Masters were immortal. But back in reality, we were only human, as prone to death as any living creature.
That was one of the harsh truths of life.
“Even if she had a feeling he was dead,” B3 continued, “she could still believe he was alive somewhere as long as she didn’t know the answer. Farica likely chose to merely wait because she wished to keep that hope alive.”
And that was exactly why she had been troubled by our accepting Louie’s request to search for Shijima.
Farica’s feelings weren’t unlike those of someone whose loved one had gone missing in some calamity or accident. As long as the body wasn’t found, she could keep hoping he was alive.
This reminded me of the time when the ship my sister was on had sunk in the Pacific Ocean. When I was told her death was all but certain, I’d cried my eyes out.
Then, after a whole lot of grieving from us, she’d returned back home with a cheery “Hellooo!” as if it were no big deal.
When we’d asked her to explain her survival, shocked to see her...
“Oh, I broke the wall of the sinking ship and swam around in the Pacific Ocean until I found another boat.”
I just didn’t know what to make of her. Her existence was an enigma.
That was only barely related to the matter at hand, but thinking of my sister lifted my spirits a bit.