Strike the Blood, Vol. 7: Kaleid Blood

by Gakuto Mikumo

  To be blunt, Yaze was much happier to be speaking to Kazuma than his own father. Unlike the rest of his family, Yaze got along with his sly, ambitious half brother rather well. Even to that day, the family held a strong bias against Kazuma, an illegitimate son, regardless of his status as a more than capable successor to the family name. Perhaps Yaze, scorned throughout his childhood as a lackluster Hyper Adapter, related to him on some level.

  Kazuma motioned to the image of a young-looking boy on a screen as he spoke.

  “A boy the same age as you. He’s going to enroll in Saikai Academy’s middle school.”

  Judging from the hospital backdrop, the picture had been taken while he was in recovery. His athletic ability seemed decent, but aside from that, there was nothing especially noteworthy about him. Staring at the soft features of his face, Yaze cursed under his breath. He’s still a little kid.

  “Motoki. This is an order from the family. You are to monitor him.”

  Kazuma’s words brought a highly dubious look over Yaze’s face.

  “Monitor?”

  It wasn’t that his brother’s order was unexpected. After all, it had been determined from Yaze’s birth that his Hyper Adapter ability was good for observation and nothing else. The Yaze family, scion of many generations of Hyper Adapters, was quite accustomed with dealing with children like him.

  However, to date, Yaze’s surveillance targets had been limited to criminals—politicians suspected of dirty dealings and corporations involved in illegal black market schemes. As a result, being ordered to conduct surveillance on an ordinary, law-abiding citizen—and someone his own age at that—was a first for him.

  Kazuma ignored Yaze’s bewilderment and continued his explanation in businesslike fashion.

  “I’m not asking you to do anything specific. Just get close to him and make regular reports about his actions. We’re making arrangements on the school side of things. You’ll be in the same class.”

  Yaze browsed the file that had been handed to him. Huh. He pouted a little in apparent surprise. Kojou Akatsuki’s physical data seemed unexpectedly…normal.

  “So he’s not actually a demon, is he?” Yaze remarked.

  Kazuma looked vaguely disgusted. “Well, no, not really… If he was a normal demon, this would be a lot simpler.”

  Yaze glared at Kazuma in even greater confusion. It always pissed him off how hard it was to drag the important stuff out of his ever-logical brother.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Look at this.”

  Kazuma pulled an envelope out of his desk and placed it in front of Yaze, who furrowed his brow as he took it. The envelope contained what was apparently a photo of the boy’s rib cage.

  “This is…?”

  “An x-ray of Kojou Akatsuki. Can you see how the fourth and fifth ribs on his right side are colored differently?”

  “Well, yeah…”

  Yaze immediately saw the discrepancy without even needing to hold it up to the light. It was plain as day that those two ribs were not those of a normal human being. Even with a black-and-white x-ray, it was evident that they glowed like translucent crystal.

  Yaze absentmindedly gazed at the picture. The fourth and fifth ribs on the right side—wasn’t that where a so-called Son of God was stabbed with a spear?

  “Those are not his original ribs. They are transplanted—or more accurately, exchanged,” Kazuma said.

  “Exchanged? From whom?”

  “The girl who might become the Fourth Primogenitor.”

  “Huh…?” Yaze answered Kazuma’s blunt, emotionless words with a silent Come on.

  However, there was no indication Kazuma was joking. He continued, “You’re familiar with vampire Blood Vassals, right?”

  “Yeah. A pseudo-vampire created when a vampire grants a part of his or her body, right?”

  As Yaze finished explaining what was common knowledge for any Demon Sanctuary resident, he audibly gasped.

  “Wait, you don’t mean that—”

  “Vampires have ridiculous regenerative capability, but the parts they grant to their vassals don’t regenerate. That’s why they normally create their vassals with blood, but they can use more important organs for more powerful vassals, or so it’s said.”

  Deep-rooted terror welled up in Yaze, making goose bumps rise all over his body.

  “So he has a Primogenitor’s ribs in him…!”

  A vampire’s Blood Vassal possessed abilities heavily influenced by the master vampire. It was said that a vassal with a high-spec body, combined with strong compatibility with his master, could make him even more agile than a real vampire. If this Kojou Akatsuki really was a primogenitor’s Blood Vassal, didn’t it mean he was just as much a monster as a primogenitor…?

  “Hmph.” Kazuma murmured a rare stab at humor. “A boy with ribs granted by a woman—someone got their mythology backward.” He was likely quoting an obscure Biblical reference, of how God created Eve from Adam’s rib. He continued in a cold voice, “Either way, it’s a top-class part to grant to a vassal. After all, human ribs are part of the body’s blood production system.”

  Yaze had little medical knowledge of his own, but merely listening to his brother helped him understand the bizarre situation Kojou Akatsuki had been placed in. A vampire’s blood, synonymous with the source of vampiric power, literally flowed through his veins.

  Gazing at the picture of Kojou Akatsuki once more, Yaze murmured, “You’re saying this is a primogenitor’s Blood Vassal…?”

  Kazuma quietly corrected him. “He’s a boy who could become a primogenitor’s Blood Vassal. Right now, he’s still just a human…albeit one who has ribs from the twelfth Kaleid Blood.”

  “Twelfth…? What’s all that about?”

  Kazuma stroked back his hair as if it was a nervous habit as he said, “That’s on a need-to-know basis.”

  Then he tossed a large paper bag Yaze’s way. The bag contained boxes of capsules. Neither the bag nor the boxes listed the drug or the manufacturer.

  “What’s this?”

  “Boosters… Chemical drugs synthesized to match your body type. The effect is temporary, but your Hyper Adapter abilities will be amplified by a factor of roughly four hundred. Think of it as insurance for worst cases. There are no direct side effects, but don’t overuse them. It’ll shave years off your life span.”

  Yaze smiled with wry amazement. “Wait, you’re worried about me?”

  Given he’d just handed such a dangerous thing to a younger brother who’d only graduated primary school, Kazuma’s concern sounded like pure sarcasm. However, Yaze’s pragmatic half brother remained serious as he replied, “You are useful to me, so I’m using you. That is all.”

  “That so?”

  Yaze stuck out his tongue and glared at Kazuma, like a sulking child completely acting his age.

  As the younger brother was about to leave the office, Kazuma sighed.

  “Motoki?”

  “Mm?”

  When Yaze looked back, Kazuma averted his eyes and spoke as if it was more for himself than for Yaze.

  “Your role here is an observer. I don’t mind if you’re friendly with him, but don’t get emotionally involved. It’ll only make things harder.”

  “Speaking from experience here?”

  Yaze casually lifted up the paper bag he’d received with an apparently pained laugh.

  “I’ll remember that, Big Bro. Say hi to Dad for me.”

  2

  To be blunt, the surveillance assignment was boring.

  Kojou Akatsuki, enrolling in late April, did nothing to counter Yaze’s first impression of him. Nothing deviated from the pattern of a completely ordinary boy living a completely ordinary middle school life, day in and day out.

  Even so, Yaze faithfully continued his surveillance as commanded by the family.

  One reason Yaze did this was for the mother he revered, who was part of that family. She didn’t have any powerful relatives backing
her up. Furthermore, she was sickly and had little standing in the clan. Yaze had to demonstrate his own capabilities to protect her livelihood.

  The other reason was the simple fact that he’d come to like Kojou.

  Kojou Akatsuki always looked lazy and unreliable, but when he got serious, which wasn’t often, his destructive instincts took ferocious hold. Seeing him up close, Yaze took a deep interest in the self-control and decision-making prowess the boy demonstrated from time to time.

  Perhaps the source of that interest was the fact that Kojou’s underlying nature impressed Yaze with a sense of danger, telling him not to take his eyes off him.

  At some point in the two years since meeting Kojou, Yaze forgot his duty as an observer and came to see Kojou as his best friend, even if somewhere, deep inside, he knew he was violating his half brother’s warning—

  “—Hey, Kojou!”

  It was a bright autumn day. Yaze was on his way home from school when he saw Kojou and called out to him.

  Kojou was in a vacant lot near the train station closest to Saikai Academy, facing a beat-up street basketball hoop, silently practicing free throws on his own.

  “The hell are you doin’ on a stupidly hot day like this? Do that stuff in the gym. The freshmen’ll love you for it.”

  Noticing that Yaze was approaching, Kojou lazily shook his head. “I don’t wanna. Why do I have to coach all those guys for free?”

  Kojou and Yaze were basketball teammates. As third-years, they’d technically retired after the summer tournament. But Kojou and Yaze were headed straight from Saikai Academy middle school to high school. Students not expecting to take external exams weren’t supposed to complain about showing up for club practices.

  However, Kojou resumed his solo practice.

  Itogami Island’s eternal summer meant that daytime temperatures exceeded thirty degrees Celsius even in “autumn.” Kojou’s school uniform was drenched with sweat.

  Yaze sat on a nearby set of stairs and watched him shoot basketballs toward the hoop.

  “Hey, are you really done with basketb—”

  “There’s not enough people in the senior club, so it’s on hiatus, right? Igarashi and Yanagi quit, too. Well, I’ll just take it easy for a while.”

  Kojou’s reply cited the names of two seniors who’d helped him a while back like they were excuses.

  Yaze sighed in exasperation and put his chin in his hands.

  “You really cool with this? If you quit basketball, you’ll kiss your one redeeming feature goodbye.”

  A completely off-course ball bounced off the wall as Kojou shot Yaze a resentful look.

  “Oh, shut up! And don’t dump on all my possibilities in life all of a sudden!”

  Ever since final middle school exams, Kojou had abruptly stopped going anywhere near the gym. He still joked around with his club mates if he bumped into them, but he deliberately avoided the subject of basketball. Yet there he was, unable to let go of his attachment, continuing to practice shooting in secret.

  It hurt to see him like that, but Yaze couldn’t laugh. He knew what Kojou was really afraid of.

  It had happened at the tournament final they’d lost—

  Kojou always concentrated a lot more than usual during a match, enough that it was hard to say a word to him, but everything he did that day was bizarre. His leaping ability and reaction time were inhuman. He made tons of freakish shots. Many of his passes went astray, but that was because his teammates couldn’t keep up with the speed of his throws.

  From the middle of the match on, it became Kojou’s show, and that’s when it happened.

  Kojou was running to the basket when he made contact with a player on the opposing team trying to stop him with a foul. The opposing player was seriously injured as a result, bad enough that the game was put on hold while an ambulance was called.

  It wasn’t a mistake on Kojou’s part, but the incident had heavily shaken him. What shocked him further was the attention of his classmates. They all looked at him with fear in their eyes. When Kojou sat on the bench to recover, his teammates had no drive left to continue the match. All Kojou could do was sit on the bench and watch his team slide toward defeat—and he never walked onto the court again.

  In a joking tone, trying not to make him feel any worse, Yaze said, “Man, and you were such a great source of info for making nice with chicks from other schools, too—”

  “Was that what you were doing?!” Kojou bared his teeth. “Gimme a break.”

  Yaze whistled with an innocent look on his face. Basketball had brought him good food and even girlfriends. Regardless, Yaze had to write detailed reports containing all sorts of data related to Kojou. Even if he had used the information for his own ends here and there, it still sat poorly with his conscience to a painful degree.

  So with all that had happened, why was Kojou still practicing free throws anyway…? As soon as that simple question crossed Yaze’s mind, he heard a voice from behind belonging to a flashy middle school girl running down the stairs. She was wearing a decked-out middle school uniform and carried a can of juice in each hand.

  “Sorry, Kojou. Did I make you wait? I had to talk to the teacher. Shiromori’s talk dragged on and on—I got this to make up for it.”

  Yaze blinked in surprise and looked up at his childhood friend.

  “Oh? Asagi?”

  At that moment, she noticed Yaze, which for some reason made her voice go shrill.

  “Wh-what the heck are you doing here, Motoki?”

  “Err…well, ah… Wait, were you meeting up here? Huh… My, my, my.”

  Yaze didn’t reply to Asagi’s question and acted with exaggerated surprise. His reaction made Asagi’s cheeks flush deep red.

  “Y…y…you’ve got it all wrong, stupid Motoki!”

  “Bwoah?!”

  Yaze let out a loud groan as his stomach took a square hit from the can of juice she had thrown.

  “Hey! Do normal people throw juice cans around?! You could kill somebody?!”

  Yaze cried out in anguish as Asagi pounded his back and made excuses.

  “It’s because you said something weird! Kojou told me he was gonna visit Nagisa at the hospital, so I figured I’d tag along, that’s all!”

  Yaze desperately endured the assault as he looked up at Kojou. “Visiting? Nagisa got sick again?”

  “A bit, yeah… Happened around the weekend,” Kojou muttered.

  Yaze knew just how seriously Kojou worried about his little sister. Her medical treatment was the reason Kojou had come to Itogami Island, yet he never said one cross word about that fact. Even playing basketball was apparently something he did with the thought of cheering up his little sister.

  However, Kojou’s devotion for his little sister was underlined by a deep sense of guilt. No doubt he still blamed himself for not protecting her during the incident that had put her in the hospital.

  But his memories had been taken from him, so he no longer knew just how great the peril he himself had been in during that incident—

  Kojou invited Yaze along for the ride, and it didn’t sound like he was joking. “Yaze, if you’ve got the time, how ’bout you come with us? Nagisa’ll probably talk up a storm with anyone. It’ll help to have one more sacrificial lamb.”

  Yaze instinctively gave a strained laugh. One of the few flaws of the girl Nagisa Akatsuki was how much she talked, far greater than the norm. With her bored out of her mind in a hospital room, “lambs to the slaughter” was truly an apt metaphor for the people speaking with her.

  “Yeah, I can imagine. Well, if it’s like that—”

  Yaze was about to carelessly accept the invitation when he swallowed his words, suddenly feeling a dagger-like gaze. When he turned his head, he saw Asagi quickly averting her eyes like a pouting child. Asagi awkwardly tried to gloss things over.

  “Wh-what?”

  The sullen look on her face said, It might be easier with Yaze there, but then I won’t be alone with him.


  It wasn’t out of consideration for Asagi, but Yaze rose to his feet and said, “Ahh, sorry, I’ll have to pass for today. I’ve got a few errands to run.”

  Later, he added with a wave, watching Kojou and Asagi head off into the sunset toward the train station.

  Then Yaze silently looked up at the basketball hoop.

  “…”

  The blood test after the match hadn’t revealed anything unusual. Kojou Akatsuki was, without doubt, a normal human being. Perhaps Kojou had subconsciously realized for himself the source of the incredible performance he’d put on at the middle school basketball finals…

  He’d already made his report, but the family had issued no new orders.

  Yaze held his side, still sore from the juice can bombardment, as he trudged forward. All he could do was continue monitoring his best friend…and pray Kojou would not endure any more suffering.

  He was fully aware that was one prayer that would not be answered.

  3

  When twilight shrouded Itogami City, Yaze was standing in front of the Island North monorail ticket booth, getting his ticket out. About five hundred meters ahead of him, Asagi was walking side by side with Kojou.

  From a distance, it looked like the two had their arms entwined, but in reality, Asagi had just delivered an elbow jab to Kojou’s side. Yaze couldn’t overhear their conversation, but it seemed that Kojou’s obtuse nature had become the butt of Asagi’s jokes. They didn’t get along perfectly, but they were far from an awkward couple. Somehow, they gave off the air of a comedy act, a pair of “bad friends” knowing the other through and through.

  “What does she think she’s doing…?” Yaze subconsciously covered his eyes at Asagi’s typically poor romantic skills.

  One other reason Yaze liked Kojou was the presence of Asagi Aiba.

  Asagi and Yaze had been acquaintances even before primary school. They were always the last kids at the same day care center waiting for their guardians to pick them up. Both had a number of issues with their family environment, too; really, they knew each other better than most siblings would.