by Mamare Touno
Neither Soujirou’s flowing strikes nor the attacks that Akatsuki poured all her special skills into worked against the murderer. They layered on several dozen attacks. The mere fact that they’d managed to last this long against the murderer, with just the two of them, set this battle apart from the man’s previous assaults, but of course Akatsuki didn’t have the time to register that.
Her strength wasn’t enough, but even so, she desperately swung her sword.
She also thought that, as an Adventurer, even if she put herself on the line here, she’d just resurrect in the Temple. What could a cheap life like that change? Even without that, Akatsuki was tiny and weak and slow on the uptake.
Still, she thought Raynesia was doing her best.
Before she knew it, the precious barriers they’d been given as support were gone. Apparently the cold air that blanketed the area wasn’t due solely to the winter wind; it was some sort of range attack that radiated from the murderer in front of them. Soujirou had been a direct target for a while now, and his HP was down to about half. There was a limit to how long they could fight this way.
“All right. I’d better give at least a small present to my senior’s junior, too.”
Soujirou murmured something incomprehensible, then resettled his stance.
Akatsuki had been a kendo girl, and even she thought it was a beautiful middle guard stance: a seigan stance, in kendo jargon, with the sword pointing at his opponent’s eyes.
“That said, there isn’t all that much I can say.”
Smoothly, Soujirou stepped out in front of Akatsuki, who was taken aback, and swung his blade. It was a straightforward attack, and on its heels, the murderer’s counterstrike cut through space. He’d swung and missed.
“Watch carefully. Listen closely.”
This time, the murderer dealt an attack with bone-crushing force. Soujirou intentionally received it, in order to get in an equal blow on his opponent. In the midst of Soujirou’s red blood, which froze in midair, the two separated, then closed again.
“Want it badly, and keep thinking about it. Don’t give up; keep training.”
Akatsuki had leapt out, and she also swung her short sword desperately.
Even though it was something very important, because Akatsuki didn’t understand its importance, it broke.
That was a terribly bad thing. Sadness filled her chest.
“…It’s pitiful, hardly an explanation at all, but… That’s everything about the Mysteries.”
The murderer spun, with his hips as the focal point. He was a small-scale hurricane.
Not yet, Akatsuki thought. She still didn’t understand. She’d touched something, and yet…
She wished hard for just a little longer. It was a feeling of frustrated regret, a feeling Akatsuki didn’t normally have.
It was sorrow at parting with “something” that was slipping away from her.
However, as if to smash those feelings along with her, the roaring, onrushing blade came down.
She felt a longing, as though her fingertips were just about to reach something. However, with an attack that seemed to shatter even that, in the midst of pain they hadn’t ever imagined, Akatsuki and Soujirou “died.”
6
The tea party didn’t turn into a dress-up tournament every time.
That morning, when they hadn’t been blessed with fair weather, the mood in Raynesia’s guest room was quiet.
It was safe to say that the atmosphere of the tea party was determined by its members. When Marielle came, it immediately turned bright and lively. When it was only Henrietta, the atmosphere resembled a consultation meeting.
And when it was her and Riezé, the mood was calm and elegant.
Today, apparently, the Crescent Moon League and Roderick Trading Company members wouldn’t be coming. Riezé had told Raynesia so, and Raynesia had looked puzzled. She’d welcomed this strategist from D.D.D., who led a training unit; they’d taken lunch together, then had green tea that was served from a large pot.
Outside the window, the wide, overcast sky threatened rain.
The blond Adventurer who sat on the opposite side of the small reception set gazed through the window into the distance.
She was fairly well acquainted with this female Adventurer, Riezé. The girl was calm and courteous, and she was from the same clan as Krusty-the-menace.
The two of them didn’t really converse.
That said, it didn’t trouble Raynesia much. Raynesia was the type who generally did care about that sort of thing, and so at first she’d been solicitous and spoken to her about this and that. However, the blond girl had told her clearly that she didn’t need to bother, so she’d stopped trying to force a conversation.
Still, it wasn’t as though things were uncomfortable, or as if she couldn’t talk to her. If they had a good topic, they occasionally had quite long conversations. That was Raynesia’s current relationship with the girl named Riezé.
Silence did trouble Raynesia, but she certainly wasn’t good at conversation for its own sake. On the contrary, she was aware that she was bad at it. This meant her relationship with Riezé was a pleasant one, as far as she was concerned.
Besides, today, Raynesia wasn’t in the mood for that sort of thing either.
A Person of the Earth—and a guard, at that: a being who should have upheld the law in Akiba—had been corrupted and was attacking Adventurers. There had already been several victims. At the thought of her small acquaintance, who’d dashed out toward the town leaving cryptic words behind her, Raynesia’s mood grew too painful to bear.
Why did this happen? Why me? The questions never left her mind.
The weather seemed as if it might be trying to exacerbate her depression, and her brow clouded.
“This Tokyo does get quite chilly, doesn’t it? I expect this winter will be a cold one.”
“Tokyo…?”
The quiet words Riezé had let fall drew Raynesia back to reality.
It was an ancient alv word that meant “eastern paradise.” It was said there was a primeval steel plate with the letters “Tokyo” on it in Castle Cinderella, where Raynesia had been born and raised.
“Oh, erm. It’s an Adventurer word that indicates the whole area around Maihama, Akiba, and Shibuya,” Riezé said.
Hearing that explanation, Raynesia nodded. The statement seemed to be in agreement with her superficial knowledge.
“Was your birthplace warmer than Tokyo, Miss Riezé?”
“It wasn’t ‘warmer than Tokyo,’ it really was Tokyo, but… Yes, I suppose so. Winters weren’t this cold. That said, we didn’t have much resistance to cold in the first place, so we wore thicker clothes then and stayed shut up in our houses.”
…Didn’t have much resistance to cold? Stayed shut up in their houses?
Sometimes she abruptly stopped understanding what the Adventurers said.
As Raynesia tilted her head, puzzled, her eyes met Riezé’s.
Riezé quietly returned her teacup to the table, then gazed at Raynesia for a little while. Raynesia wasn’t sure how to interpret that gaze. Then Riezé began to smile. It was a peaceful, gentle smile, a kind she’d never seen before.
“I was born in a small town in Tokyo.”
“Not in Akiba, you mean?”
“That’s right. It was a town called Kiyose. Here…it would be the area around Nobidome District, I think. It’s the sort of place where you’d expect to find something, but there’s nothing.”
“But…”
According to Raynesia’s memories, Nobidome District was a habitat for water-dwelling monsters. Not only was there no town there, there wasn’t a single village.
Raynesia was startled by her own surprise.
“Then you aren’t a noble, Miss Riezé?”
She said this because she’d thought Riezé was the child of some aristocratic family, and an influential one at that. All Adventurers were educated to the point where they couldn’t be considered commoners
. Even among them, Riezé and Henrietta were nobles whose grace and elegance shone through in their interactions with others. It wasn’t a matter of superficial etiquette. She thought they were true nobles who’d been raised in an environment where they’d been able to be considerate of others since birth.
It wouldn’t have mattered if they weren’t, and Raynesia had no intention of discriminating because they were commoners or Adventurers. When she thought about why she’d been startled, that was the answer she reached.
“No, I’m not. I was born into a small, ordinary family, raised as an ordinary child, and sent to an ordinary school.”
“……”
“You have schools here as well, correct? They’re places where children gather and are made to learn. In the place where I was born, all the children in the area are sent to one school or another. It’s mandatory.”
She didn’t know anything about Riezé.
She didn’t know about Akatsuki either, or Henrietta, or Marielle, or Serara, or Nazuna, or Mikakage, or Ranya, or Azukiko.
…Or about Krusty.
In other words, she really knew nothing about the Adventurers.
She’d been made to see this over and over, and yet here it was, happening again. Raynesia felt shame and despair over her own ignorance.
“Let’s see… When I was a child, I think I was quite the tomboy. Children’s anime… You don’t have that here, do you? Fairy tales, I suppose it would be. I adored those, and I dashed around with the boys. That said, I graduated from that sort of thing when I turned ten… After that, let’s see… I overreached myself when I tried to become a lady, failed, and was laughed at by those around me. I liked studying, and I was good at it. If I did it, people praised me, so I got good at it. Of course, it didn’t take long for that to become only expected, and before long, people stopped praising me…”
“Oh…”
This was something Raynesia knew as well.
She’d been good at smiling and being well-behaved. Sitting so that she looked precociously mature and wise hadn’t been difficult for her. She’d done it because she liked being praised. Raynesia had loved her father, mother, and grandparents—her family.
It had become second nature by now, and it was ingrained to the point where she couldn’t handle things any other way, but originally, she’d wanted the people who were important to her to smile. She’d wanted them to be happy.
“I was an honor student at school because adults liked me and because I was particularly good at studying. It wasn’t that I worked desperately at that; I was simply born that way. The town where I was born had several large hospitals, and there were lots of elderly people. As a result, I was probably more conscious of adults’ eyes than I was of children’s… In that sense, I’m glad I came here and joined D.D.D. I’d grown conceited, and there are people here who broke me. There are people who taught me, after I’d fallen apart, that it didn’t have to mean the end of me. Lots of—”
“I—!”
Raynesia stopped her; her tone was firm.
She couldn’t hear this.
She wasn’t qualified to hear it.
She’d thought she was a strong woman. Raynesia was embarrassed at having thought Riezé was of noble blood and that she’d been an Adventurer by birth. In the end, didn’t that simply mean she hadn’t even tried to understand her?
Once she realized this, the world she knew seemed very petty and narrow.
It wasn’t that she didn’t know about the world because she’d been raised as a princess of Maihama. Raynesia’s world was small because she hadn’t tried to see the things that were right beside her.
You’re working hard, Raynesia.
She finally understood the meaning of the words that had been spoken to her.
They’d meant, “I was paying attention.”
Raynesia had been such a child that she hadn’t even understood that that was what was being said.
“I was born in the city of Maihama. Since I am a princess, technically, I was raised by a nurse from the time I was small… I don’t know many of the games others play. I think I was probably wealthy and happy. I had pretty clothes and plenty of food. I never felt that my life was in danger…”
Raynesia began to speak in a small voice.
“When it came to my studies, there were several teachers in the castle. I think the education I received was above average for a Person of the Earth, but from your perspective, I’m not sure how proud of it I can be…”
Raynesia put the words together, unsure of what she should tell her, or how.
It was a childish ceremony, going on clumsily, just as Riezé had shown her.
“I think I also acted more demure than I really was because I wanted my family to praise me. I…I’m really very lazy. I’d like to spend every day napping and sunbathing, and I don’t understand even half of the complicated conversations I hear. When I’m bored, I bite back yawns.”
Riezé was thoughtful, and confessing this to her took quite a lot of courage.
However, although Raynesia watched Riezé for reactions, she didn’t consider breaking off. After all, that swallow-like girl had probably flown beyond this point.
“I came to this town because I thought I could escape tiresome formalities that way. Even now, I’m bad at business discussions and shouldering responsibility. When I come face-to-face with things I don’t understand, it makes me want to cry. I think eating little rice balls and spacing out suits me best. However, I’m… In short, I am a princess, so—I can’t do that, and I also think I shouldn’t. Truthfully, I don’t even know whether that’s really the case, but…”
The words wouldn’t come out well, and Raynesia began to feel resentful.
Krusty would probably have picked up that feeling for her.
However, that probably wouldn’t have been okay.
There was something between her and this blond girl, and the swallow-like girl, that she wouldn’t be able to create or connect that way.
She felt as though she’d heard Elissa’s admonishing chuckle. Instantly, Raynesia’s temper flared, and she continued rather violently, as though wringing the words out.
“I think there’s something terribly important somewhere, and because it’s important, I have to treat it as though it’s important. And so I, um, I think I have to stay a princess. —Only I never have enough strength, so…”
“Yes?”
“I’d like to do things properly with you, too, Riezé. Not only with you, but with Akatsuki as well. And with Marielle. If I don’t, I don’t think I’ll be qualified to be your friend, or to live in Akiba…or to be arrogant enough to think of protecting anything.”
“‘Do things properly,’ was it?”
Riezé laughed a little at the words, but hiding her embarrassed tone with a composed expression, she granted Raynesia’s wish for her.
“You’re right. This sort of thing is… Well, once one’s in high school, it’s a little embarrassing. Since we’re dealing with each other straight on, you see… In that case, first, a little advice: ‘Do things properly’ is a difficult way to put it. Too difficult. Let’s be friends, Raynesia. I am an Adventurer, but if you don’t mind that…”
It was a single fragment of something important, handed to the slacker princess from an entirely unexpected source.
1
Shoving her back hard, the line began to move.
Akatsuki had been thinking, but the waves of people pushed her into motion, hurried her on. Whatever she’d been thinking about had vanished. Feeling depressed, the petite young woman walked briskly across an enormous intersection.
On both sides of Akatsuki, behind her and in front of her, tall, black shadows undulated, moving forward. She could hear car horns at point-blank range. They were probably being sounded in irritation by commercial trucks that had shoved their muzzles into the intersection and were now unable to budge. The metallic, shrill sounds echoed, but nobody paid any attention to them.
&n
bsp; Was she the only one who shrank into herself, feeling as if she’d been scolded, each time that sound blared out? She wished somebody would do something about it quickly, but in her experience, it had never been resolved, not even once. The human walls that flowed around her were overwhelming. Salarymen. Businesswomen. Students. People of all ages and occupations walked on, mechanically.
Some people were talking loudly. They held their cell phones right up to their lips, conducting business negotiations in yells. Akatsuki ducked her head, frightened of the voices that shouted at their subordinates. Cordial voices, promising dates. Akatsuki knew the women speaking into their cell phones in coaxing voices weren’t smiling at all.
That was right: She only “knew” it. She couldn’t see the expressions of the people around her. In a crowd like this, it was nearly impossible for Akatsuki to see anyone else’s face. There was too little space, and even if she looked up, she couldn’t see well.
She only kept walking as if prodded, hurrying, feeling an irritated melancholy, feeling afraid without knowing why.
The town was overflowing with jagged noise. The sound of an emergency vehicle siren, echoing in the distance. Car horns. Exhaust noises, like bad-tempered beasts. The sound of everyone talking away on their cell phones, en masse, rolled in the background like the ocean. Neon lights and music played at all sorts of tempos were mixed in, and the whole mess was plastered over everything like a pizza sauce whose flavor was unidentifiable.
As Akatsuki walked, looking down, she couldn’t understand the music that was playing or the content of the conversations. They only ran together, pressuring her ears; sometimes she almost caught a phrase or a scrap of conversation that surfaced, but the avalanche of information washed it away. Yes, this was a violent flood. Akatsuki wasn’t drowning, but that was only because she’d learned how to close her mouth, ears, and eyes. She’d been swallowed by the muddy torrent and was being swept along, and in that sense, she wasn’t much different from someone who was drowning.
