The Binary Stars of Destiny

by Reki Kawahara

  The ISS kits and the Acceleration Research Society were trying to destroy this world. Bush Utan, whom Haruyuki had fought a few days earlier, and Takumu in the fight the day before, didn’t seem like they were having fun. Even the members of the Society themselves, Dusk Taker and Rust Jigsaw, were at a complete disconnect from the pleasure of the duel.

  That was wrong. That was definitely wrong.

  As Haruyuki stood there stock-still, fists clenched, a hand wrapped in a leather glove came down with a slap on his left shoulder.

  “Good fight, you crazy crow. Way to see through the weak point of my mighty V-Twin Punch.”

  “I’m sure the same thing won’t work again next time, though, huh?” Haruyuki replied, and Ash Roller snorted with laughter.

  “Absolutes! Check it. Next time, I’ll be popping wheelies standing up, man,” the skull face bragged before glancing upward. He was checking the timer. Six hundred seconds left. It wasn’t a long time, but enough to talk for a bit.

  Ash Roller sat down on one of the more reasonable-size rocks dotting the intersection and jerked his chin toward Haruyuki, as if to tell him to start talking.

  Haruyuki nodded and took a seat on a rock opposite him. “Umm, I wanted to talk to you about Bush Utan.”

  In name at least, Ash was a member of an enemy Legion, so Haruyuki couldn’t get into the details about Takumu, but even so, he expended every effort to tell Ash Roller as much information as he actually could.

  That the ISS kits were essentially a colony, that they were linked to kits “genetically” close to them. That the wearers of the kits were guided by that link when they went to bed every night and connected with the main body. That Haruyuki and his Legion comrades had attacked that main body the night before on an information level and damaged it considerably.

  “So right now, you might be able to destroy the ISS kit parasitizing Utan in a normal duel. But…there are two problems there,” Haruyuki said, staring at Ash Roller, who had taken in the whole story without comment. “The first is, the ISS kits probably can’t be damaged without using an Incarnate attack. And the second is, even if you destroy the kit, that doesn’t resolve the essential problem. Now that he’s experienced the Incarnate firsthand—he calls it ‘IS mode’—after Rust Jigsaw launched that massive attack from the tenth shuttle in the Hermes’ Cord race, Utan’s really suspicious of the veteran Burst Linkers who kept the existence of the Incarnate System a secret. And I think that feeling is creating an urgency in him, like he doesn’t care how legit or not the power is as long as it makes him stronger. Like there’s no point if he doesn’t get stronger. And as long as he feels like that, I’m pretty sure if you smash this ISS kit he has now, he’ll just go looking for another one.”

  “Yeah, I know. I think so, too.” Ash flipped up the skull-patterned shield of his helmet with his right hand. Beneath it, a face mask reminiscent somehow of a science nerd looked up at the sallow sky of the Wasteland. His quiet voice flowed out, voice effects weaker, surprisingly subtle.

  “I already told you how that kid U, his parent ended up at total point loss, yeah? Only natural, I guess, but it was a huge shock for him. Ever since, he’s had, like, this enormous terror…unhappiness or annoyance or something, just hanging out inside him. I’m supposedly his big bro, so I prob’ly shoulda done something for him. But y’know, I still hadn’t…come to terms with this whole total-loss thing, either. I didn’t know, y’know, what I should even say to U.”

  “Come to terms?” Haruyuki asked.

  Ash nodded slowly and turned pale-green eye lenses on him. “When the number of burst points becomes zero, the Brain Burst program itself forcefully uninstalls, and you’re done being a Burst Linker. Master Raker taught me right off the bat this was the biggest rule of the Accelerated World. You must’ve gotten it, too, Crow?”

  “Y-yeah. Ku—Black Lotus told me that pretty clearly the day I became a Burst Linker.”

  “Right. But when I really think hard about it, I’ve actually never been backed up against that wall, where I’m seriously for real on the brink of total loss. I mean, if you really pushed, maybe the worst I’ve come up against is when I went up to level two and I had a pretty narrow margin, and then I lost to level one you. That got me a bit freaked.”

  Feeling the man’s eyes on him, Haruyuki reflexively shrank into himself.

  Thinking back, Ash Roller had been his first fight as a Burst Linker and the first opponent he had lost to. Later, his parent, Kuroyukihime, had lectured him about all sorts of things and come up with the perfect strategy for him to challenge Ash Roller to a rematch. But in the space of a single day, Ash had gotten to level two, and thanks to his newly won ability to ride up walls, Haru’s carefully planned strategy had been useless.

  Although he despaired of winning at that point, he had frantically racked his brain and realized that the weak point of the old-style motorcycle was that the drive power was in only the rear wheel, which allowed him to turn the tables and win the match. That duel had been the starting point for Haruyuki’s tactics.

  The “margin” that Ash Roller spoke of was a word originating from the unique ways players leveled up in Brain Burst.

  In normal RPGs and other games, the player automatically leveled up when their experience points reached a certain fixed number. But in Brain Burst, to go up a level, a player had to spend experience points they had saved up—their burst points. Specifically, the number of points required to go from level one to level two was three hundred. In other words, when the player executed a level-up in the system menu, their points decreased by three hundred all at once. Thus, when moving up a level, a player needed to ensure they had sufficient wiggle room to lose several duels in a row without being forced to face total point loss—they needed a margin, in other words. It only made sense when he thought about it a little.

  Hearing this from Ash Roller, Haruyuki composed a pathetic smile and confessed, “Th-the truth is, I wasn’t thinking at all, and I went up a level as soon as I had saved up three hundred points. I was almost at total point loss.”

  “For real?! Back then, Suginami wasn’t even Negabu territory, was it? Can’t believe you made it back from that okay.” Ash Roller sounded exasperated, and Haruyuki shrugged again.

  “Y-yeah. My partner, Cyan Pile, helped me out, and I kinda…” He started to tell the story, but he couldn’t really remember exactly how he had gotten his points back up at the time. So Haruyuki turned the straying conversation back to its original route. “A-anyway, what did you mean before by ‘come to terms’ with total loss?”

  “Ohh. Okay, so look. I can totally see how the whole system of forced uninstall when you lose all your points is a totally mean, for-real-awful rule. But I also kinda feel like if you’re gonna be a Burst Linker and get this massive present, acceleration, then a risk that size is only natural. Honestly, I can’t totally come down on either side. I mean, like, it’s easy to say it’s mean…But the flip side of me and you getting all the way to level five here is however many guys got those points stolen from them and ended up in total loss. It’s like indirectly, the points I won and used totes casually were points taken from U’s parent by someone else when he was pushed to total loss.”

  Haruyuki was speechless as he listened to this speech that was slightly—no, considerably different from the usual yee-haw century-end rider.

  As if reading his mind, Ash snorted and turned away before continuing, as if embarrassed. “But then, I think a Burst Linker’s gotta be ready right from the start for total loss at least. The one dishing it out and the one taking it, y’know? And in that sense, I really respect your parent, the Black King. Dunno if I should be saying this when I’m in Great Wall, but…she’s amazing. She’s undisputedly number one in the Accelerated World when it comes to being totally ready to leave this world. I wanna get that kind of mega cool, too. But y’know…like, if I was up against you in a duel, Crow, and say I found out you’d be at total loss if you were crushed one more time, wo
uld I be able to mercilessly slam that final blow into you, all cool-like…I honestly got no idea. At the very least, I can’t say I wouldn’t hesitate.”

  “Ash.” This time, Haruyuki was genuinely surprised and turned serious eyes on the biker.

  “Hey you!” he responded in a slightly threatening voice. “You look like you’re gonna be all, I’d have no problem putting you at total loss. Come on, now!”

  “N-no no no no way! I’d hesitate, too! I’d super hesitate!”

  “Dude, for serious?! You sound all like, I’d hesitate, but I’d still put you at total loss. Come on!”

  “B-but you just said it like you would hesitate! Right now!” Shaking both hands and head at top horizontal speed to dodge Ash Roller’s follow-up jab, Haruyuki remarked, lips flapping, “But I mean, it’s only natural to hesitate. My parent…Black Lotus, I mean, I know she hesitates. No matter how hated her opponent is. Because at the core, they’re both Burst Linkers. And I owe you for this one, too, but that time the guy stole my flying ability this spring, he was an enemy, we were in total conflict, and I hated him from the bottom of my heart. And still, when I was defeating him in the Sudden Death Duel, I hesitated a little. I wondered if maybe we could have met a different way, had a different duel…and now I feel like that hesitation is maybe something we’ll never be able to get rid of completely as long as we’re Burst Linkers.”

  This time, it was Ash Roller who fell silent.

  Eventually, he lowered his eyes to the brownish-red earth between his feet and muttered slowly, “Maybe so. But, like, because of that hesitation, I couldn’t say anything to the U kid. I’m s’posed to be his big bro; I really should’ve said one or the other, clear as day. I totes will never forgive the dude who pushed your parent to total loss. I’m def gonna get revenge. Or else, We all fight carrying around the risk of total loss. You can’t mope about it forever. One of those things. But I couldn’t. Which is why U just filled up with anger and fear and went looking for something other than the power he had. This guy sitting right here made one of the reasons he went chasing off after the ISS kit.”

  Ash Roller slammed a foot on the ground with a crunch, and Haruyuki couldn’t immediately figure out what he should say. But before he could open his mouth, something began flashing red in the top of his field of view. The timer had crossed into the last hundred seconds.

  “That reminds me, Ash. Didn’t you say you had a wish you wanted me to grant?”

  “Oh. Y-yeah. Right, right.” The biker lifted his face and yanked down the skull shield of his helmet before continuing in a suddenly wilder voice. “It’s kinda connected with the whole U thing. Well, it’s no big, actually. Sorry, Crow, but can you, like, mega quick and cool, teach me?”

  “T-teach you? What?” Haruyuki cocked his head, and Ash Roller responded without hesitation and with a singular objective:

  “The Incarnate System.”

  6

  If someone were to ask Haruyuki what his favorite of the five weekdays was, he would have responded without a moment’s hesitation that it was Friday. This was probably the same as the majority of students—and maybe grown-ups as well. The thrill of the two unbroken days off in a row was hard to beat.

  However, when it came to his least-favorite day, he was a bit on the fence. Naturally, along with most people, he was not too happy with Monday, but the first day of the week held the joy of being able to see the object of his respect and affection, Her Excellency the student council vice president, after a two-day absence. And at least for this term, the lunch special on Monday was the feast of the gods that was minced meat cutlet curry.

  Thus, if he proffered an amnesty for Monday in an act of extreme benevolence, next in line would have to be Thursday. After all, Thursday had gym class first period, a completely unforgivable timetable.

  “Hey, Arita! Hey!”

  Drenched in sweat, legs shaking, Haruyuki reflexively moved to throw the basketball he held in both hands in the direction his name came from.

  But the figure of his teammate with hands up in the air was soon blocked by a player from the opposing team, and his own teammate disappeared from view. In the lower left of his vision, the digital numbers counting down the five- and twenty-four-second violations were steadily decreasing. Panicking, he held the ball high above his head with both hands to toss it toward the very front line in a blind long pass.

  But just when he was on the verge of releasing the pass like a bolt of lightning, someone reached up and seized the ball from behind.

  “Gotcha!”

  Leaving behind an odious voice, the tall student—a basketball team regular named Ishio—magnificently dribbled the ball toward his own side of the court. While the girls standing around the court cheered, in the blink of an eye, Ishio made his way through the two players guarding and went in for a leisurely layup. The ball swooshed through the hoop, and the right side of the score of 22–36 displayed in the overlay in the lower right of Haruyuki’s vision changed to 38.

  “No big deal!” The teammate who had called out to Haruyuki clapped him on the shoulder. But Haruyuki could hear only the echoes that lamented the other boy’s bad luck at ending up on the same team as Arita, instead of his own bad luck at ending up on the team opposite Ishio.

  The dual basketball courts of the gym were divided up into girls’ and boys’, with the twenty boys being further split up into four teams, so each game was only twenty minutes. An upset victory in the remaining seven minutes and thirty seconds was clearly impossible, so Haruyuki prayed he would at least not make any more incredibly obvious mistakes as he started to return to his given position.

  “Haru,” a different voice murmured behind his back. “The important thing is the overall image. Just like in the Territories.”

  The one dropping this little bit of advice on him before moving away was Takumu Mayuzumi, who’d happened to end up on the same team. Although they were losing, they could be said to be putting up a rather good fight, given the fact that the other team had an actual basketball team player on it; there was only a sixteen-point difference. And the reason the gap wasn’t greater was because Takumu was working hard as a forward, even though ball games were far outside his area of specialization.

  The overall image? Just like in the Territories? Haruyuki puzzled the words as he ran noisily after Takumu, aiming to catch the ball after a throw-in or charge dribbling into enemy territory.

  The Territories in Brain Burst took place every Saturday evening, group duels fought over territory between Legions. A normal duel could go up to only a tag team of two against two, but the Territories unfolded as large-scale battles of a minimum of three against three, with some instances of more than ten against ten.

  Which meant the fight couldn’t be won by simply relying on individual battle prowess. Players had to be aware of the overall situation in the large stage as they avoided the enemy’s major attacks, while also looking for weaknesses at the same time. They needed to have a comprehensive image of the state of the war.

  So was Takumu trying to say that a basketball game was the same as that?

  But Haruyuki’s team was already doing something like that. Since the enemy team’s main firepower was clearly Ishio from the basketball team, their strategy was to have two people guarding him at all times to block his movement. Haruyuki and another boy were conservative centers, while Takumu was the lone forward. But unable to really stop Ishio even with two people—and with only Takumu as the core of their attack—it was clear they wouldn’t be able to score as easily as that. Still, if they abandoned defense and shifted to an attack-style formation, the suddenly freed Ishio would simply run circles around them.

  So then we can’t just think of this in terms of battle strategy, Taku. It’s like our opponent has a King on their side and we have a level one on ours, Haruyuki mentally replied to his friend. Of course, he was the level one. Given that he was slow, short, and bad at handling the ball, his presence alone in a basketball game was basical
ly nothing more than an annoying obstacle.

  And then at that moment, Takumu was knocked down onto the court with a heavy thud. An opposing player had panicked, seeing that Takumu was charging the enemy net for a three-point shot, and slammed into him. A sharp alert sounded and the word FOUL glittered blue in the center of his field of view. Blue was the enemy team’s color.

  “T-Taku!” Haruyuki raced to his side, but Takumu raised a hand to indicate he was okay, and then stood up again.

  He calmly took his three free throws, and the points he gained changed the score to 25–38. As Takumu quickly ran back, Haruyuki started to call out to him, but then swallowed his breath.

  The word image his friend had used before—what if it wasn’t meant on the level of a weak point or a strategy? What if he had meant something bigger?

  At the beginning of class, the in-school system had randomly divided them into teams. The moment Haruyuki saw that Ishio was on the opposing team, he had told himself it was all over; three of his four teammates had no doubt done the same thing. So before the game even began, they had been seized by a negative image.

  Takumu was different, however. Because of his quiet manner and intellectual appearance, it didn’t really show on the surface, but he was a natural-born fighter. Which was why, when they were in elementary school and he was horribly bullied at his kendo lessons, he didn’t quit going. This was also why he couldn’t stop himself from checking into the rumors about the ISS kit, which had the power to overwrite the weak point written into his avatar because of that bullying.

  And even in this pointless twenty-minute mock game in their completely meaningless gym class, Takumu refused to have a negative image, even knowing the clear differences in fighting power. So, right, it was exactly like the Territories in Brain Burst. In those battles, both sides expended every effort in tactics and strategies, and the first one who tossed out the words It’s impossible was the one who lost.