by Yuu Miyazaki
That was a remarkably forward proposal coming from her, Ayato thought. It must have taken her considerable courage to voice that suggestion. Her concern for him was nothing if not heartwarming.
Nonetheless, he shook his head. “He sure is a good swordsman…”
But it wasn’t that side of Masatsugu who he wanted to speak with—what he needed right now was his father. And so long as Masatsugu had a sword in hand, there was no way that that part of him would come forth. That was the kind of person he was, for better or for worse.
“Ah…” Perhaps having read his expression, Kirin hung her head in dejection.
“Anyway, I’m glad he helped you think things through,” Ayato said, patting her on the head.
“…”
Kirin stared back at him, looking as if she had something that she wanted to say, but in the end, she remained silent.
Kirin awoke shortly before dawn the next morning, sitting up from her futon and rubbing her eyes.
The Amagiri household’s guestroom was in a Japanese style, eight tatami mats in size. Apart from a hanging scroll in the recessed alcove, there were no decorations to speak of, but it was thoroughly cleaned from corner to corner, and the crisp winter air that had made its way inside left her feeling fresh and invigorated.
She was used to waking up early for her morning training. Wondering what she should do in her unfamiliar surroundings, she set about her daily routine, folding up the futon, getting dressed, and stepping outside to splash her face with the piercingly cold water, when, as she made her way back, she heard sounds coming from the kitchen.
She proceeded nervously down the corridor, the floorboards creaking beneath her, only to find Masatsugu preparing breakfast.
“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
“Y-yes!” Kirin responded, bowing her head. “Good morning! Um, can I help?”
Masatsugu looked her over in silence for a moment, before nodding. “There should be an apron in the drawer over there.”
Inside the indicated drawer was a cute, neatly-folded, pink apron. It was unlikely that either Masatsugu or Ayato used it, so it must have been Haruka’s.
She wondered for a second whether it was really okay for her to use it, but she didn’t have much choice now. She would just borrow it for a moment and then put it back.
“I’ll slice some pickles, then.”
Until Kirin had come to Asterisk, she had had no experience cooking, but since working with Saya to make lunch for Ayato, she had been able to find time to practice every now and then. She had been clumsy from the very beginning, and there was no mistaking that she still had a long way to go, but at least now she could handle a knife without cutting herself.
She removed the pickles from the salted rice bran as instructed by the senior Amagiri then washed away the residue and cut them into neat pieces.
“…Huh? Kirin?” Ayato, late to get out of bed, stood wide-eyed as he stared at them.
“Ah, good morning, Ayato!”
“Morning… Is that Haruka’s apron?”
So she had been right…
“Ah, um, I guess I shouldn’t have…?”
“No, it looks good on you. It’s just…” Ayato stood staring at it strangely for a moment, somewhat wistfully. “Anyway, you’re a guest, so you don’t need to worry about all these chores.”
“No, this is the least I can do to thank you for both for your hospitality.”
“Hmm… Well, if that’s what you want…”
Faced with her enthusiasm for the task, he said no more than that.
Instead, he turned his gaze to Masatsugu.
“Dad, I’ll be going back to Asterisk today.”
“Huh?” Kirin, surprised, stayed her hand on the cutting board. “Y-you’re going back already?”
“Yeah. It looks like coming here helped you out. And besides, you should probably head back to your place, too. Your father must be waiting for you.”
That was no doubt true, but there should have been no need for him to leave after only one day, especially when he hadn’t been home in so long.
Kirin glanced across the room to see Masatsugu, stoic as ever, give Ayato a curt nod. “Fine. Do as you wish.”
These two blockheads!
She knew, as an outsider, that she shouldn’t try to interfere too much, but she couldn’t help but be frustrated by the both of them.
Haruka must really have been amazing if she could get these two to get along…
She let out a deep sigh, staring down at the pink apron.
Kirin had only ever seen Haruka’s sleeping figure, when she had gone with the other members of Team Enfield to visit her in her hospital room, and didn’t know what she was like as a person. Appearance-wise, she had gentle features, a lot like Ayato’s. Saya claimed that she was even stronger than her younger brother, but that would mean—
“We’re ready here,” Masatsugu announced, having finished cooking the fish.
The pickles were ready, too.
“…Ayato?” Kirin asked.
“Ah.” He handed her the plates.
“Th-thank you.”
They get along normally enough here, though…
But that was probably because they hadn’t said much.
Ayato, seemingly worried about her, said a few words to her during breakfast, but hardly even glanced his father’s way.
To be honest, the atmosphere was even gloomier than it had been the night before.
“Well, Kirin, let me know when you’re ready.”
“Y-yes…”
Ayato said that he would do the washing up, so Kirin went back to her room.
She didn’t have much to put away, having only been there for a night and two meals, but wanting to leave everything as clean as she had found it, she set about tidying everything up, when she heard a noise coming from the adjacent room.
Stepping out into the corridor, she found that the door leading into it was slightly ajar.
She didn’t want whoever it was to think that she was spying on them, so she tried calling out softly. “Um…?”
“Ah, Kirin.” It was Masatsugu.
“Is this…?”
“…It’s Haruka’s room.” His tone of voice was as flat as ever, but Kirin couldn’t help but wonder whether she hadn’t detected a hint of sadness mixed into it.
“S-sorry for intruding…,” she murmured, before timidly entering.
For a high school girl’s room, it was surprisingly modest (though strictly speaking, her own room back at her own house was very similar, so she couldn’t really comment on what a normal one might look like).
There was a desk, a bed, several small containers and boxes for storage, and a bookcase filled with countless old tomes—no doubt books on sword techniques.
Kirin could see right away that this room was as scrupulously maintained as the guestroom and the dojo. It had probably been this way ever since Haruka had left for Asterisk.
So that she could come home whenever she wanted.
So I was right…
Ayato and Masatsugu both felt the same way toward her.
They just weren’t good at letting each other know that.
“Um… What kind of person was Ayato’s sister?” Kirin asked.
Masatsugu glanced toward a small, manadite-powered photo frame by the side of the bed.
It switched on through sight alone, opening up several small air-windows.
“Wow…”
Taken aback by the rapid flood of images, Kirin glanced from the first one to the next, a feeling of warmth bubbling up inside her at the happy family photos.
The pictures showed Haruka, Ayato, Masatsugu, and even occasionally Saya and her family in the middle of normal, everyday activities.
In every single one of them, Ayato was smiling. He indeed looked slightly mischievous, as Masatsugu had said the night before, with an adorable grin.
Masatsugu’s expression had been as severe as it was now, but the air around
him seemed somehow softer.
At that moment, Kirin realized that Ayato hadn’t shown her a genuine smile since they had arrived here.
This isn’t good…
She didn’t know exactly why, but she felt it in her heart.
They couldn’t afford to leave things the way they were.
“U-um…”
But just before she could open her mouth, Masatsugu spoke up. “Kirin,” he began softly. “I’ll leave Ayato to you.” And with that, he bowed deeply.
“Th-that’s…! I mean, I’m the one who’s always being saved by him!” She stepped backward, flustered.
“I watched the Gryps,” Masatsugu continued. “If he had stayed here, Ayato wouldn’t have grown as much as he has. I’m indebted to you and your friends.”
Sensing the sincerity imbued in those words, Kirin could do nothing but remain silent.
“He can be reckless, sometimes. If you can, please, stand by him when he needs you.”
“…Yes. I’ll do my best,” she answered.
Only then did Masatsugu raise his head.
“We’ll be off, then.” Ayato swung his bag over his shoulder and stepped outside.
His father had come to see them off, but he said nothing as he watched them go. Ayato said no more either.
“Thank you for everything.” Kirin bowed her head in thanks, before chasing after her schoolmate.
The weather had undergone a sudden change, the sky dull and cloudy. The wind wasn’t strong, but the cold was enough to tear into her skin.
“Right, the station is—”
“Um, Ayato…!” Kirin called out, having made up her mind.
Ayato, several paces in front of her, came to a stop, looking over his shoulder. “Hmm? What’s wrong?”
“Um, I mean…”
He shone her his usual easygoing smile. Or at least, that was how it looked.
But she was right—there was something different about it. It wasn’t real.
“Ayato, are you really going back to Rikka like this?”
As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t tell him to go back and see his father. Even if the two of them did talk, they still probably wouldn’t resolve their issues. And more importantly, she had no right to stick her nose into things.
“That’s the plan…”
“In that case…”
What, she wondered, would Saya, his closest friend, say? Or Julis, whom Ayato had first set out to help? Or, for that matter, Claudia, who always had him on her mind?
She didn’t know the answer to any of those questions.
But that was precisely why she knew what she had to do next.
“Th-then, why don’t you… I mean, you could c-c-come to my place with me…,” she stammered, grabbing onto the edge of his coat.
“Huh…?” Ayato’s eyes widened in surprise.
“No, I mean, um…” She mustered her wavering voice, only too aware of the blood rising to her cheeks. “I mean, when you invited me, it was because you were coming home, and if you’re finished here, then…um…”
Anyway, she wanted him to stay with her. Even if there was no real need or reason for him to do so, she wanted him to remain by her side.
“Hmm…” He stood motionless as he mulled over the sudden invitation.
“A-and since you invited me to your house, I—I want to return the favor… I mean, your father taught me a little of the Amagiri Shinmei style, so why don’t you let me show you the Toudou style too…?”
Rikka—Asterisk—was, above all, a place of battle.
Kirin didn’t dislike the city, but there were certain things you just couldn’t find there, certain things you couldn’t learn. Having left its borders, having ventured into the outside world, Kirin had come to understand that all the more acutely. There were things you could polish there, but also things you couldn’t. And unless you are able to change yourself along the way, you could end up breaking.
She didn’t know whether or not Ayato had realized that, but this time, it was her turn to help him.
“…All right,” he replied after a long moment, flashing her a forced smile. “As long as it isn’t any trouble. I do want to say hello to your dad, and I am interested in the Toudou style.”
“O-of course! He’ll be so pleased to see you!” Overjoyed, Kirin made a small fist, mentally leaping into the air in triumph.
Ladislav Bartošik was being detained in a mansion on a small island in the South Seas.
He had been apprehended on eleven charges as the ideological mastermind behind the Jade Twilight Incident, but as his trial had been completely suspended, he still hadn’t been found guilty of any crimes—nor, for that matter, was he ever likely to be.
“He’s here…?” Claudia wiped the sweat from her brow as she looked up to fully take in the undecorated two-story mansion.
At first glance, it looked like any other typical mansion, but on closer inspection, there were all kinds of security devices installed amid the flowering garden, and the premises were under twenty-four-hour surveillance by Galaxy’s private military forces. There were no other inhabitants on the island, and it was forbidden for outsiders to even approach the landmass without explicit clearance.
“Come now, Claudia.” Isabella, her expression cool, entered the building ahead of her.
Claudia breathed a sigh of relief to find that it was air-conditioned on the inside but couldn’t help but feel as if someone was watching her—no doubt because the security cameras had been arranged so as not to leave a single blind spot.
Even so, Ladislav’s circumstances looked to be much more comfortable than she had imagined. By the looks of things, he was afforded a certain degree of freedom so long as he complied with the rules. She had imagined that he would have been locked away in a tiny, dirty cell, but to her surprise, that wasn’t the case.
Then again, Galaxy hadn’t confined him here just for possessing secrets of the highest order—even if he was the chief party involved in those secrets—but rather because of the threat posed by Varda. Claudia didn’t know the details, but it sounded like if he wasn’t dealt with appropriately, he, or maybe Varda, might expose all kinds of information. Faced with all this, even Galaxy would have no choice but to accommodate him to a certain extent.
Claudia followed her mother to the second floor, where they found an old man sitting in a shaded wicker chair on the balcony.
“How long has it been, professor?” Isabella called out in greeting.
The man, shrunken and frail like a withered old tree, turned sluggishly toward them. “…Don’t call me that. You’ll make this old fool cry, reminding me of everything I’ve lost. I’m not a professor anymore.”
Just looking at his eyes, Claudia could see right away he wasn’t in a good state—physically or mentally.
Ahh, this is no good.
They were stagnant, completely sapped of all vitality, the eyes of someone who had already given up on life, who now lived only in the past.
If he had been detained here ever since the Jade Twilight Incident, then he must have been living like this for over thirty years. That meant he would have to be in his eighties. This genius, who had single-handedly advanced Orga Lux research by more than half a century, whose creations included the Varda-Vaos, the Pan-Dora, and the Lyre-Poros, and whom Saya had described as so significant that his name would probably be remembered throughout history, had been unable to resist the passage of time.
“How long has it been since I last spoke to anyone…? What do you want?” Only then did Ladislav seem to notice Claudia. “Oh, you have a young lady with you…from Seidoukan, judging by the uniform. That brings back memories.”
“Pleased to meet you, professor. My name is Claudia Enfield,” she introduced herself, before taking the Pan-Dora from the holder at her waist, activating it. “I’m currently this one’s partner.”
“Ah, Pan-Dora, is it? She was always the most difficult of my children. She’ll give you trouble, I’m sure.”
Ladislav nodded, smiling fondly.
He seemed to be looking far into the distance, through both Claudia and the Orga Lux, no doubt deep into the past.
“I’d like to ask you about the true nature of this one’s abilities.”
“…!” At this, Ladislav’s eyes opened wide. “Its true nature, you say…?”
Isabella, standing beside her daughter, frowned with suspicion.
“The Pan-Dora’s true ability isn’t precognition. That’s merely a by-product, isn’t it?”
“Oh-ho…!” Ladislav rose up from his chair, his eyes suddenly returning to life as he approached her on unsteady feet. “Marvelous…! To think… To think that someone would reach this stage… I’d long since given up hope…”
“…So I was right.”
She could no doubt take his reaction as proof of the validity of her assumptions.
It was vital to have the right frame of mind when using an Orga Lux. While there were many who thought that they understood that, it meant a lot more than most realized.
“Then its real cost…”
“Ha-ha, you already know the answer to that, I’m sure.”
“…is the future itself. No?”
“…!” Isabella’s frown stiffened, but Ladislav, in contrast, broke into a wide grin, taking Claudia by the hand.
“Claudia, was it? Thanks to you, I can die knowing I’ve brought more successes into this world than just the Varda-Vaos. When the Lyre-Poros was downgraded, I couldn’t help but think that I’d failed, but now…”
“No, I should be thanking you, professor. You’ve lifted a burden from my shoulders.”
The question now was what to do next.
If there really was such a thing as fate, then there must have been some reason why she had survived this far.
“Ah, I haven’t felt this good in a long time… Ah yes, Isabella. I wasn’t going to tell you, but I want to thank you for bringing me this news, so I will. The Varda-Vaos dropped by the other day.”
“…Is that so?” Isabella’s voice was cold and mechanical. Due to the mental adjustment programs that she had undertaken, her thought processes would become emotionless and calculating whenever serious issues affecting Galaxy came up. “Tell me.”