by Ao Jyumonji
“Akira-san...” Haruhiro covered his mouth with his hands. “Wait, you don’t mean that Akira-san?”
Soma and his group were living, walking legends. Naturally, as walking legends, they walked around places. That meant that, although they were legendary, they actually existed, and if you were lucky, you might pass by them somewhere. In fact, before Haruhiro and his party had ended up joining the Day Breakers by chance, they had once had Kemuri treat them to a round of drinks at Sherry’s Tavern.
But Akira-san was different.
Any volunteer soldier who didn’t know Akira-san’s name had to have been living under a rock. He was that famous, but Akira-san was far more distant than Soma and his group.
From what Haruhiro had heard, before Soma and his group had made their name, Akira-san and his party had long been seen as the strongest volunteer soldiers.
When Soma and his party had appeared, Akira-san had recognized their skills and praised them as the strongest. That was what had cemented their reputation.
That said, it had done nothing to diminish Akira-san’s dignity.
For instance, there were some volunteer soldiers who boasted, “I could take Soma in a one-on-one fight and win.” In other words, there were volunteer soldiers who thought themselves his equals, whether they said it aloud or not. Influential clans like Iron Knuckle and the Berserkers felt especially competitive towards Soma. So while many volunteer soldiers praised Soma as the strongest, his position as such was by no means absolute.
That was the difference between him and Akira-san. No volunteer soldier would compare themselves to Akira-san. It would be presumptuous for them to even think about whether they were stronger or weaker than Akira-san.
To put it in extreme terms, it would be like comparing your height against a mountain. It was natural for humans to be shorter than the mountains, and strange to even attempt to make the comparison. Akira-san wasn’t so much on another level as in another class altogether.
Akira-san had laughed, saying, “I’m getting old,” and then casually pushed the title of strongest off onto Soma and his party. Then, one day, he had set off on a journey with his comrades, never to be seen again. That was the sort of unverifiable story, practically a legend, that Haruhiro had heard about him.
Now they were saying this man was Akira-san? This old man?
“Ah...” Tokimune blinked. “Man, it really is Akira-san.”
“I’ve met you before,” said Akira-san, or the old man who supposedly was him, flashing Tokimune a wonderful smile. “Tokimune-kun. Tada-kun and Inui-kun. I believe it’s my first time meeting those young men and women.”
“Hey,” Tada said. And then the guy who looked like he had common sense at first glance, but was more arrogant than anyone, bowed his head.
“Heh.” Inui... grinned. “It’s an honor...”
“I’m K-K-Kikkawa, man! It’s a meet pleasure to you... No, that’s not it! It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Me A-Anna-san, yeah! You can call me Anna, too, though, okay?”
“I’m... Mimori.”
Oh, wow. Haruhiro was stunned. The Tokkis were acting all meek and quiet.
In contrast, Shihoru, Yume, Merry, Kuzaku, and even Ranta, who was on the ground kowtowing, were all stiff and nervous. Yume wasn’t the type to let someone’s name bother her, but she must have sensed something from Akira-san and his group.
It wasn’t oppressive by any means, but it was something.
Like, They sure are adults, or something like that? Although Akira-san was probably old enough to be their father, so they were clearly the children here. But it wasn’t just the age difference. It was experience. It was their weight, breadth, and depth as individuals. There was just too great a gap between them in all of those things. They could sense that clearly, but without having it feel like it was being rubbed in.
Akira-san was natural. That just made him more incredible.
“It’s a bit embarrassing to give my name at this point, but...” Akira-san said, extending his right hand, “I’m Akira.”
“Oh... uh... yeah.” Haruhiro wiped his right hand on his cloak, wiped it, and wiped it again, and then took Akira-san’s hand. “N-N-N-N-N-Nice to meet you. I-I-I-I’m Haruhiro.”
“It’s a pleasure,” said Akira-san, shaking his hand.
A handshake. I’m shaking hands with the Akira-san. His hand is big, warm, dry, powerful, and gentle. I could probably brag about this, huh? To whom is the question, though.
No, hold on.
There are other questions here, too.
“Wait, huh? Why would someone like you be looking for someone like me?” Haruhiro asked.
“I heard about you from Soma,” Akira-san explained like it was no big deal.
“From Soma-san?”
“Yeah. You all came here to meet with Soma, too, right?”
“Huh? Oh, yes, well... You’re right. Huh? Us ‘too’—Wait...”
“I’m Gogh.” The short man in a priest’s outfit produced a black, rectangular stone from his pocket. “It’s inconvenient that this is about all we have as proof of membership, isn’t it?”
“That’s...” Shihoru gasped.
“It’s a receiver!” Yume cried, clapping her hands to her cheeks.
“Then, that means...?” Kuzaku looked to Merry.
“It can’t be—” Merry held her chest and tried to calm herself.
“Yeah,” the female warrior said, clearly having a good time. “It means we’re comrades. Oh, by the way, I’m Kayo. Gogh is my honey.”
“Your honey...” Haruhiro felt dizzy enough to faint, for some reason.
“Yeah, kinda.” Gogh may have felt a bit embarrassed, because he looked off in the opposite direction. “It’s true, Kayo’s my wife. And this here is our son.”
“I’m Taro,” the elf boy brusquely introduced himself.
“Wait, but...” Ranta rudely looked back and forth from Gogh and Kayo to Taro.
“As you’ve already inferred, we’re not related by blood.” Taro glared at Ranta. “But Mom and Dad are my real parents. Did you want to say something about it?”
“Nope! Not a thing! No, no, no, no!” Ranta laughed, shaking his hands back and forth. “Wouldn’t dream of it! Geheheh! Nothing I’d want to say, you know? I mean, blood ties don’t matter anyway! If anyone wants to obsess over that stuff, I’ll kick their asses myself! Gahahaha! B-By the way, um... What is the name of the lady over there?”
“Me?” The beauty pointed to herself. “Did you want to know something about me?”
“No, um, well, like, if you’re available, maybe...”
“I’m an old woman compared to you,” the beauty said. “I’m thirty-seven.”
“Thirty-seven?!” Ranta shouted in disbelief. “You don’t look it! Not at all! No way! That’s the biggest shock in my whole life! Besides, who cares how old you are?! You’re above and beyond something like that!”
“Thanks. I’m Miho.”
“Miho-saaaan! M-M-Marry meeee!”
“I’m sorry,” Miho said, placing a hand on Akira-san’s arm. “I intend to devote my life to this guy here.”
“Gwarrrrrrghhhh! My love, struck down in an instaaaaaaaaaant!”
“Are these people going to be any use?” the dwarf snorted. “I can’t imagine Soma choosing them.”
That’s fair, Haruhiro thought. Especially Ranta. I mean, Ranta, I don’t think I’ve been this embarrassed by you in a long time. I wish I could kill you and then die myself.
“Branken.” Akira-san gave the dwarf a look of rebuke before turning a friendly gaze—or at least, one that felt that way—to Haruhiro. “I had been looking forward to meeting all of you. After all, I knew Rock and Io and their groups before they joined, but you guys, I only first heard about through Soma.”
“Yeah, I imagine you wouldn’t have met us,” said Haruhiro. “Um, I dunno what to say, but we haven’t been volunteer soldiers long, and we have no accomplishments to speak of...”
> “You took down Death Spots, didn’t you?” asked Akira-san. “I hear you performed well at the offensive on Deadhead Watching Keep, too.”
“W-Well, yeah, we did!” Ranta puffed up his chest with pride. “Young up-and-comers! That’s us, I’d say! No denying we’ve got a real future ahead of us!”
“Man...” Haruhiro wanted to give Ranta a good, hard punch, but he couldn’t muster up the energy to do it.
“Hmm.” Tokimune looked back and forth from Akira-san to Haruhiro. “The Day Breakers, huh. I was surprised to hear Haruhiro was with them, but you are too, Akira-san? I feel like I heard from Kikkawa that the Rocks and Io’s party joined up with him, though.”
“They’re, like, totally the strongest!” Kikkawa was shaking his head around like he couldn’t restrain himself any longer. “Awesome! The legends, the original legends—Typhoon, the Rocks, and Io-sama’s team! It’s, like, a dream team, or something?! No, like, a real dream?! Like, dream, dreamier, dreamiest?!”
“Oh. Right.” Tada walked up, looking at Akira-san with appraising eyes. “Hey, bud. Er, Akira-san.”
Whoa, there. Haruhiro was startled. Did you just call him “bud”? Huh? What happened to meek and quiet mode? Kikkawa seems to be getting back into his groove, too. Whaaaaa...?
“You know about the Dusk Realm?” Tada didn’t even make an attempt at being polite.
“We haven’t been there yet.” Akira-san didn’t seem to mind. “But we’ve heard of it.”
“There’s this crazy monster there,” said Tada. “Like, so crazy it’s even got me excited. It’s a giant god.”
“Oh?”
“We’re planning to invite Soma and the others along, but do you want a piece of the action, too?” asked Tada.
He’s inviting them. He’s totally inviting them.
Haruhiro pinched the bridge of his nose. He was starting to cry.
What? What the hell, Tada? Don’t pull this kind of crap. This is Akira-san, okay? You’re asking the Akira-san if he wants a piece of the action, like some two-bit hoodlum. If you want to invite him, there’ve gotta be better ways. Like, in how you say it. Besides, it’s not okay. You wouldn’t invite him, not normally. Well, Tada’s never been normal. I knew that, but still. Isn’t he a bit too abnormal?
“Let me think about it,” said Akira-san.
Man. You’re such a nice guy, Akira-san. The way you’re being considerate to him. You don’t even get upset at someone as brazenly arrogant as Tada. You’ve got such character. It’s wonderful. Haruhiro was moved.
“Huh?” Tada snapped.
So, why’s Tada got a vein pulsing on his temple? Isn’t that weird? Has he gone nuts, maybe? He’s clearly not normal, right? I mean, it’s totally weird, right? It’s not something to snap over, is it? He’s got nothing to be mad about, right?
“What’s with that response?” Tada snarled. “Like you’re trying to dodge the question. Me, I hate it when people do that. Are you interested or not? Be clear about it.”
Oh, that’s his issue? Haruhiro thought. I get what he’s saying. I get it, but he doesn’t need to snap over it.
Haruhiro, his party, and even the other Tokkis were looking on in disbelief. As for Gogh, Kayo, Miho, Branken, and Taro’s reactions, he was too scared to check.
“Hmm.” Akira-san’s face stiffened. Or rather, he had a serious expression. At last, Akira-san nodded slightly.
Did he just bow his head?
“I’m sorry. You’re right, that response I just gave you was close to being a mere formality.”
“Yeah.” Tada mussed his own hair. “So, what’s your response?”
“It sounds interesting, but I can’t decide on the spot.”
“Why’s that?” Tada demanded.
“There are two reasons. First, I have no information on this giant god.”
“That’s what makes this interesting, isn’t it?” Tada shot back.
“You have a point there.” Akira-san wore a strangely childish, mischievous, and surprisingly nasty smile. “Here’s the other one. We’re meeting Soma tomorrow.”
“That’s just a matter of going to the Dusk Realm afterwards, you know.”
“If we end up going, that’s how it’ll be,” said Akira-san. “You said you mean to invite Soma, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let me talk to Soma about it, too.”
“I couldn’t ask for a better outcome,” Tada said.
“I can’t reply immediately.” Akira-san was still smiling. “But I’m inclined to go. You seem like you’d be fun to fight shoulder-to-shoulder with.”
“I’ll guarantee that.” Tada grinned and thrust his fist out. “I only know you from rumors, but I know myself pretty well.”
Akira-san bumped fists with Tada. “Let’s make sure we bring Soma, too. Fighting alongside him is stupidly fun.”
“Ha ha ha.” Tada clapped Akira-san on the shoulder.
“Ohoh!” Ranta jumped up.
“Yahooey!” Kikkawa jumped into the air, too, and let out a bizarre cry.
“It getting exciting now, yeah!” Anna-san made V-signs with her hands and spun in circles.
Mimorin was staring down at Branken for some reason. She probably thought he was cute.
“We did it, huh, Haruhiro?” Tokimune flashed his white teeth and poked Haruhiro in the side.
Haruhiro said nothing. For now, he just wanted to crouch down. He wanted to sit down. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep for a long time.
You can’t give an immediate reply? No matter what you say, if you’re saying you’ll bring Soma along, Akira-san, you’re already set on going, aren’t you? I don’t like it...
I don’t like it...
I just don’t get people who aren’t normal, and I don’t like it...
6. Priorities in Life
Haruhiro’s favorite kanji was the one for “ground.” He didn’t like absolutely everything about it, but he liked most of the words and expressions it showed up in. “To have one’s feet firmly on the ground,” for instance.
He was more of a “ground” person than a “sky” person. He would rather be an insect crawling on the ground than a bird soaring through the sky. He didn’t particularly like insects—he hated them, actually—but for all that people said, “You’re gross,” or “You’re annoying,” or “Don’t come out,” or “I hope you go extinct,” or insulted them, insects kept on stubbornly surviving. He respected them for that. That was why you could say this job perfectly suited Haruhiro.
Beneath the many-colored sky of the Dusk Realm, Haruhiro held a shovel tightly. This goes without saying, but a shovel is a tool for digging holes and scooping dirt. He had been able to procure them at the Lonesome Field Outpost.
Haruhiro thought it suited him perfectly. He was a man who looked good with a shovel. That was cool. No, maybe it wasn’t. He didn’t need to be cool.
“Delm, hel, en—” Mimorin chanted as she used her staff to draw elemental sigils. “Balk, zel, arve.”
When she did, the ground was blasted away and dirt and sand scattered all over, leaving a hole about 1.5 meters in diameter.
The was the Arve Magic spell, Blast. Maybe because she had just learned it, it wasn’t as powerful as they had hoped. That had to do with the mage’s basic skill, as well as her mastery, which was different for each school of magic.
“Mimorin, one more shot, go! Yeah!” Anna-san hollered.
With Anna-san egging her on, Mimorin let out a strange grunt of “Mnngh,” then began casting her magic again. “Delm, hel, en, balk, zel, arve.”
Dungh.
“Delm, hel, en, balk, zel, arve.”
Zongh.
“Delm, hel, en, balk, zel, arve.”
Bokongh.
“Delm, hel, en, balk, zel, arve.”
Bugoom.
“Delm, hel, en...” Halfway through the incantation, Mimorin bent over and rested her weight against her staff which she thrust into the ground. “...Tired.”
“You worked hard!” Tokimune winked and flashed her a smile before lifting up a shovel. “Okay, let’s dig!”
The five holes Mimorin had opened in the ground with Blast were spaced ten meters apart in all directions. Haruhiro, his party, and all of the Tokkis except for Mimorin and Anna-san, so ten people in total, each took a shovel and began work on expanding the holes. They widened and connected the five holes, creating one much larger hole.
What were they doing, you ask? Don’t you get it?
“Zwoooooooooooreeeeeeeeee!” Ranta yelled.
“...Ranta,” said Haruhiro. “You’re too noisy. Can’t you just shut up and work?”
“No can do! If I shut up, my spirit will break down out of boredom!”
“Let it break...” Kuzaku muttered while swinging his shovel.
“What’d you say?! Kuzacky, why youuuu?!” Ranta screamed.
“You really are noisy,” Merry said coldly, brushing her hair back behind her ear.
“Oh, I’m being nooooisy. Soooorry, okay? It’s fiiiine. I’m used to being criticized like that. Me, I don’t care oooone bit what you say about me. Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk, hyuk.”
“You’re the worst,” Shihoru spat at him.
“Yayyyy! I’m the worst! I’m the worst kind of human ever! Bugabugaboo!”
“Stupid Ranta! How about you stop runnin’ your mouth and start movin’ your hands, huh?” Yume snapped.
“I am moving my hands. Look at them go! Lookie, lookie, lookie!”
In fact, the more Ranta talked, the faster his shovel moved. It was pretty—no, very—creepy. Ranta was harmful and his actions were toxic.
Should I tell him off? Haruhiro thought it over for about three seconds. Nah. Leave him.
This was (worthless) (stupid) Ranta (the piece of crap). He’d argue back no matter what Haruhiro said. It would have the opposite effect. Following the most important principle in handling Ranta, he ignored him.
I have enough trouble already just with the digging, Haruhiro told himself.
It was heavy labor, but little by little, the hole was steadily expanding. It grew on him as he did it. Personally, he didn’t mind work like this.
But why are we doing this anyway?