by Yuu Kamiya
OPENING
You’re playing an RPG and you hit a door you can’t open. Isn’t this what you think? If I can use magic, why can’t I just bust this door the hell open? But you can’t. Why not? Because those are the rules.
—Games and real life are different. People like to say this as if you can’t tell the difference. But have they thought about how they are different? They’re probably just thinking in terms of is it real or not. Now, as much as I’d like to debate whether sports are reality or a game, we won’t go there. What I want to talk about is a more fundamental difference between games and reality: absolute rules.
If we look at the previous example realistically, ignoring rules. You don’t need to worry about a door; you can just break it and continue. When the fate of the world is at stake, who needs to look for the key? In a situation in which you can appropriate the items inside as long as you have the key, it seems as if, even if anyone sued you for destruction of property, you would win. Looking at it another way, if the door is so strong that you can’t even break it with magic that can defeat the Devil, couldn’t you just break through the wall instead? Heck, you could even grab that insanely tough door and use it as a shield when you’re fighting the Devil. Same for the legendary sword in the stone: You don’t have to pull the sword out; just break the stone. But they don’t do that. Why not?
Because then it would be boring.
That’s right: Rules are there to make the process of achieving the ending fun. In shogi, to capture the king; in soccer, to score more goals; in an RPG, to defeat the final boss. There’s nothing cool about reaching the set ending without following the rules. Thus, the rules of games have a shared absoluteness.
—Do you see it yet? In reality—there is no ending. Victory is not secured when certain conditions are fulfilled, and beating someone doesn’t bring peace. Lovers never live happily ever after. For better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, every single relationship reaches a dead end. Therefore, people set their own endings by their own arbitrary interpretation, and they create their own arbitrary rules to go along with it. If I make more money, I’ll have won; if I have more fun, I’ll have won—even thinking of winning in the first place makes you a loser…
Let’s try a little thought experiment. Imagine you’re playing shogi and, all of a sudden, your opponent starts moving pieces around however he wants with no rhyme or reason. And then, he hasn’t even captured your king, but he looks at you as if to say, How’s that? I won.
…How did you react? Could it be that you wanted to punch him in the face? But can you think of a game in which everyone plays like that? That’s right—that’s reality.
—Games and real life are different? No shit. We have a few words for the people who say this smugly: Don’t even try to compare them, noob.
Eight twenty-three-inch widescreen monitors. That was the whole of their world.
A little planet, thirteen thousand kilometers in diameter at its equator. A world with its surface covered in a fiber-optic network…Earth. On this planet, the concept of distance had been forgotten. Connecting to the Internet allowed one to transmit thoughts fast enough to go around the world seven times a second. It was possible to connect with someone on the other side of the world as if they were right by one’s side.
—People said that the world had expanded boundlessly.
—But they thought that the world had shrunk tightly.
Everything necessary for life could be delivered with a single click. The empty boxes left over robbed the close room of its original breadth. Where the inorganic light of the displays blinked upon them. No, rather, on the other side of the monitors. The net space built in hexadecimal—that was their whole world.
Cramping the room even further were the countless PCs and consoles. The wiring connecting them, and numerous controllers, robbed it even of space to walk. Lighted within this were two faces, devoid of expression. These, indeed, were those of the brother and sister, who at the very moment were waging a fierce battle against some unknown players on the other side of the world. The brother was a young man with black hair and black eyes. The sister was a girl with white hair and red eyes. The contents of the screen were chaotic, while the contents of the room were still. The siblings’ headphones even monopolized the sounds of their own world. All that could be heard within the room were inorganic, mechanical sounds and the clicks of the two.
—They thought that the world had shrunk. Electronic data networks had created the ability to see the other side of the world without moving. But what that brought on was a data tsunami that far exceeded the limits of individual cognition. The explosion of data had not created boundless connection, but the opposite. The surplus of data was a poison that made people flee to their own little worlds biased toward what they wanted to hear. Countless little closed communities. Isolated, ever-smaller, shallow individual ideologies. And someplace else, someplace that wasn’t here: the countless game worlds. Their eyes as they peered into the worlds beyond the monitor. Sometimes they concentrated so hard that they fell under the illusion that they were really in those other worlds. That they weren’t the dregs of society, bound in this cage the size of sixteen tatami mats. Sometimes they were heroes, standing up to save countries. Sometimes they were heads of the greatest guilds in the world. Sometimes they were mages, sometimes they were elite commandos, sometimes assassins. The general common thread was that the world revolved around them. That clear victory conditions were indicated.
The young man let out a sigh. Eight twenty-three-inch widescreen monitors. How long had it been since they had become his whole world?
The two reigned undefeated in all kinds of games. In the little world beyond the monitor, they were practically an urban legend. In the little world of games they belonged to, they were truly heroes, just as in the games. But, whenever they looked away, what was there was the same as always. Inorganic, quiet, cramped. The small, isolated world…of the dregs of society. And then the young man gave himself over to the dysphoria that always overcame him. The sensation of jamais vu: Is this really my room? And then he thought further. Without basis, he simply thought idly—Is this really the world in which I was meant to live?
“Yes, you are right.”
But that voice responding to his internal monologue. In front of Sora was the same world they’d always seen. And, within it, an unfamiliar boy, innocently smiling while standing oddly.
—Wait. Had he seen him before? He searched his memory, but, before he could speak, the boy went on.
“This isn’t where you were meant to live. So…”
And—
“That’s why I’ve given you a new life.”
Past and present, fiction and reality. All of the memories clouded. His increasingly hazy consciousness started to strip away the reality from the world. And suddenly he realized—the usual thing.
“……Oh, I see, it’s a dream.”
Then, just like all dreams. It ended, impossible to pinpoint when, as his consciousness returned…
The Kingdom of Elkia: the capital, Elkia. In this city, now the last bastion of Immanity after it had lost territory in one play for dominion after another. In a corridor of the Royal Castle, a girl walked unsteadily. Stephanie Dola. A noble girl of the finest breeding, the granddaughter of the previous king, with red hair and blue eyes.
—But. The deep fatigue shown by the dark circles under her eyes and her heavy steps robbed her of her natural refinement. Clutching playing cards with a creepy smile, wobbling her way to the bedchamber of the king, she rather appeared…a ghost.
“Heh, heh-heh-heh… This is the day you get what’s coming to you.”
As the newly risen sun came to reap her post-all-nighter co
nsciousness. Stephanie—aka Steph—chuckled restlessly.
“—Sora, you’re awake, aren’t you! It’s morning!”
Bam, bam. With her hands full of cards, Steph kicked the door and addressed the king by his name alone. But.
“Beeep. The party you have dialed is pretending not to be available.”
“—Huh?”
The voice that answered from the room was not the king’s. Rather, it was a sleepy-sounding, monotonous, synthesized female voice.
“Please move away from the door immediately and be sure not to barge in.”
“—Sora, is this some kind of joke?”
“No, I’m serious, dood.”
“For the God’s sake! I’m coming in, all right?!”
He was probably just playing a game anyway—wait, scratch that, he definitely was. Spurred on by the irritation of fatigue, as if to kick down the door—no. Actually kicking open the door, Steph saw as she entered the royal bedchamber.
“I’m sorry I’m so sorry I really wasn’t joking I honestly just can’t right now I didn’t mean anything really I’m serious please I’m sorry I’m sorry…”
—The king, crouching on the bed, clutching his head, apologizing profusely. It was so pitiful as to bring tears, as he trembled visibly. However, Steph, who had seen something similar before, looked around the room as she spoke. The room was covered in so many books there was no place to step, along with countless games. But Steph muttered at the lack of something that should have been there.
“…Hm? Sora, are you alone?”
“Yes I’m alone so alone no more reason to live probably never should’ve been born in the first place I’m sorry after you go I’ll just be a good boy and hang myself so please—”
“…Brother…? You’re making a racket…”
To the king babbling on without breathing—to Sora, a lethargic voice rose to complain. Recognizing the voice, Steph sighed and murmured.
“So Shiro is here. What are you doing?”
“—Huh?”
As this was pointed out, Sora whipped his head in Shiro’s direction. She must have fallen off the bed while sleeping. The girl as white as snow, creeping up from the side of the bed. Sora’s movement to hug her—left sound behind.
“Ahhhhhhh, I’m sooooo glad! Oh, God, my sister! I almost hung myself by mistake thanks to your sloppy sleeping. What do you have to say for yourself!”
As the brother wept openly and rubbed his cheek against his sister—Shiro. The sister looked at him with a cold squint, out of sleepiness…though probably not exclusively.
“…Brother…that’s too much…”
“What?! Are you saying you don’t understand your brother’s feelings?!”
Sora slammed to his feet and crowed with grand gesture.
“Then tonight! When you’re sleeping, I’ll put you in the closet! And, when you wake up, I won’t be—”
“………!…Hk…Ngh…”
But, before he even finished speaking, Shiro already had tears in her eyes, perhaps imagining it.
“See?! Now do you see how I feel?”
“…I’m sor-ry…I’m…sor-ry, for not sleeping better…”
As Shiro apologized sincerely between sobs, Sora stroked her head.
“No, I’m sorry. I went too far. I was a bad brother to make you imagine such a catastrophe.”
“…Hk… Yeah…”
Then, the man who a moment before was shaking like a newborn gazelle and begging forgiveness. Turned powerfully, pridefully, back to Steph and made an announcement.
“So, it must be the bed’s fault! Steph, get rid of this bed and lay out a futon!”
“H-hngg?!”
Steph, who had been watching the siblings’ antics as if she had already seen it all. Raised a queer voice in panic at the contradiction presented to her.
“Th-th-this is the bed of the royal chamber! Do you know how much history—”
“Whatever. Sleeping or not, for Shiro to leave my side, it must be the bed’s fault. Maybe it’s tilted?”
Shiro nodded in agreement without hesitation. Steph thought—How ridiculous.
“Th-that bed is worth enough to feed a whole family, you know?!”
“Then sell it and feed a family. It’s a good deed; there’ll be a happy family.”
“…Y-y-y-you…”
As Steph trembled speechlessly at Sora’s tyrannical reign, Sora thought of something.
“Oh, right. The stuff in this room belonged to the previous king—your grandfather.”
It seemed Sora had got something from Steph’s reaction. Clapping his hands together, he spoke as if he’d had a brilliant idea.
“So, this is what we’ll do. Steph, from today, this is your room.”
“Wha—! …Th-this is the king’s bedchamber!”
“And I am the king. Anyplace I choose to sleep, be it a doghouse, will become the king’s bedchamber.”
The king spouted off sophistry like breathing, with a clear face.
“So get me a room in the building the castle’s maids use. For the bed, you should just stick a mattress on the floor, of course.”
Steph, for a moment, was unable to follow Sora as he pronounced that a futon would be motto ii. After a few seconds, she reacted.
“A-a maid’s room…we’re talking about a little shack at the edge of the castle grounds?! It’s wood, you know?!”
“Mm? Now this I can’t overlook; are you dissing wood?”
Sora cleared his throat with an ahem and began.
“It’s superior in ventilation, absorbency, insulation, seismic resistance, wind resistance, and everything. Truly a castle as far as a shut-in is concerned. As long as you watch out for fire, there is no architecture that compares to Japanese—”
Then, in the middle of his speech, Sora seemed to think of something. And got out his tablet, which had been on the solar charger by the window.
“Oh, I knew it. I did have a book on Japanese architecture.”
“…What?”
“Great, let’s build a house on the castle grounds!”
“Huh…?”
Leaving Steph behind as she utterly failed to follow him, Sora went on, heated.
“What do you think, Shiro, our dream ie! Don’t you think that’s a great idea?!”
“…Where…would we build it?”
“Heh-heh, I know exactly what your concerns are, my little imouto!!”
He accentuated his speech with English. As if to say, “You think your brother wouldn’t think of that”…he pointed, bam—to the castle courtyard.
“Over there, it would be close to the outer ward where the maids stay, so we should have no problem getting supplies. It’s also close to the castle kitchen, so we can shut ourselves in just like always! It’s also got a fair amount of greenery and a nice breeze, and very few people pass by! Plus, thanks to the castle wall, there’ll be practically no sunlight at all in the morning! Can you even imagine a better place than this!”
To Sora’s boasts, Shiro lifted a hand.
“…No objections…”
“Great! So, Steph.”
“Uh, um, y-yes?”
To Steph, slack-jawed in awe at these developments.
“Get us some experts on wooden architecture. Yeah, this is probably an unknown style of architecture in this world, so I guess we’ll need a few ultra-top-class artisans and twenty or so staff? I guess, if we explain how to pick the wood, they can take care of the details.”
—By way of a late introduction. These two siblings are Sora and Shiro—the king and queen of Elkia, the last nation of the human race, “Immanity.” Who spend days without leaving their room. Who read and play games all day and night while making unreasonable demands.
—This is what you call tyranny.
“~~~~~~~Sora! Get ready for a game!!”
Steph appeared to be out of patience with the tyrants. Clutching her cards in her hands, glaring daggers at Sora as she yelled. For today—she wou
ld bring divine punishment upon them.
—But.
“—…Oh?”
At the mere mention of the word “game,” Sora’s eyes narrowed, all emotion blown out. Though Steph had seen this instantaneous transformation many times before, it still made her shiver. The pitiful man who just had been shivering himself turned into a smug, silly big brother. And with the flip of a switch, the contents of her heart were exposed, so that no matter what she did, she’d be in the palm of his hand—his mechanical calmness gave that illusion. And yet with a military boldness, his face turned into that of a game master.
—But, more critically. As he looked into her eyes, Steph felt a flash of heat in her face and a bounce in her heart. The legacy of the game she had played with him before. The proof that the tab from her utter defeat had not been forgotten. It seemed to blunt the force with which Steph had come. As her ears turned red and her eyes turned away, Sora asked:
“Does this mean you’re challenging me to a game under Aschente?”
“Uh, why, yes, that’s exactly what it means.”
“…The Fifth of the Ten Covenants… The party challenged…has the right to determine…the game.”
Shiro mumbled out the Covenant she had memorized.
—It was an absolutely binding Covenant that the God had set down for this world. An absolute rule that could not be defied for any reason.
“Hmmm… And yet? You challenge—me? To a game of my choosing?”
—The game had already begun. Steph had a line ready for Sora as he spoke out to maintain his psychological edge.
“Oh, dear me, do you suggest that you, the greatest gamer among humans, will not e-entertain me with a game outside of your specialty?”
Though Steph had desperately planned this line out and practiced it. Her voice cracked a bit, and she sounded as if she were reading a script. And Sora chuckled and grinned at her smugly.
