No Game No Life, Vol. 2

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No Game No Life, Vol. 2 Page 15

by Yuu Kamiya


  “Responsibility? What responsibility?”

  Steph finally did lose words.

  “If we lose, then Immanity is over. What kind of responsibility is there to take?”

  Sora spoke as if he had no interest whatsoever in such things.

  “But, come on, Steph—aren’t you excited?”

  No—he was in fact starting to smile, as if he thought it was somehow cool.

  “If we lose, then we take the lives of three million Immanities with us as it’s ‘game over.’ If we win, we double our territory in one fell swoop, and we grab up all the animal-girls in the Eastern Union—this has gotta be one of the most exciting games ever. Aren’t you pumped?”

  “…(Nod, nod!)…”

  At Sora, smiling innocently, and Shiro, flapping her legs contentedly on his lap. Steph just felt a jolt of something chilly down her spine.

  They were insane. It was not appropriate to describe these siblings by oblique expressions such as “unsound” or “unhinged.” Correctly. Truly. In the literal sense—they were insane.

  “I-is this how you treat human…human life…”

  At this madness, madness beyond mere scorn, Steph felt fear. She wanted to run away, to escape, as she whispered on the verge of tears.

  “I’ve lost all hope I ever had in you…! I thought that, no matter what preposterous antics you got up to, it was all for the sake of the human race, but I was so wrong—!”

  Steph denouncing Sora, itself, was a scene that had been seen many times. But this time, it was clearly different from before; her eyes were full of genuine contempt and disillusionment.

  —As Sora grinned frivolously and answered.

  “Cool it, Steph… It’s a game, you know?”

  —Just this, Steph’s suspicion turned to conviction. To have believed in this man—she had been wrong. This man, no, both of these siblings were just playing. They didn’t really care about Immanity or the Eastern Union. They just thought this whole world was a game—!!

  —I was wrong to entrust Grandfather’s legacy to this craven scoundrel—! Despair, disillusionment, terror—as Steph was stirred up by countless emotions, still Jibril, attending on Sora and Shiro with all the more respect, said:

  “How wise is my goshujin-sama… This is the proof of one fit to rule over us—”

  —For the sake of victory, he would even put the lives of the masses on the line. This was not recklessness or abandon, but a confirmation of certain victory. Steph, in regard to Sora and Shiro, responded to the unknown with fear. But, to Jibril, this very same unknown pointed the way to adoration, envy, fascination.

  “Wh-what are you talking about! How could he—”

  “Then let me ask you a question, little Dora.”

  Steph flinched under Jibril’s uncharacteristically serious gaze.

  “You asked how he would take responsibility if he lost, but think about it the other way. If my masters are victorious, then all the Werebeasts in their continental domain will be stripped of their jobs and their rights to their land and assets, left to wander the streets, perhaps even die. Do you ask that my master take responsibility for that? Or would you say it is their responsibility for losing?”

  “—W-well…that’s…”

  She had no argument. But, even so—Sora’s actions were just too irresponsible. At least…at least the people should have been consulted or something, yes? But Jibril went on.

  “Even now that war has been forbidden, killing and being killed still continue in this world.”

  —A world where force of arms had been forbidden. But, conversely, that was all. It was simple to take, to dominate, to kill by indirect means. This was the nature of the Ten Covenants, and also. Exactly what had happened to Immanity until now.

  “Dora, do you propose that Immanity not participate and instead simply perish?”

  “W-well…no, but—! Still!”

  To say that then they had no responsibility. That was…that was crazy—said Steph, but.

  “This is what being an agent plenipotentiary is about.”

  Jibril, who herself was part of the agent plenipotentiary of the Flügel, gave Steph icy eyes, devoid of feeling, and stated.

  “To begin with, reality and games both are about killing each other—what kind of responsibility do you expect?”

  —At these all-too-heavy words from one who had lived through the bygone Great War, Steph fell silent. But, unexpectedly—it was Sora who spoke up to contradict.

  “Huh? No, no one’s gonna die. Didn’t I just say it’s a game?”

  “—What?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Uh?”

  “…Mnn…?”

  As if something didn’t fit. Everyone blanked out. Then Sora spoke, as if he’d finally understood.

  “Ohhh… Okay, okay, I get it now; that’s how it is.”

  To Sora, who’d arrived at the identity of the unease he’d been feeling all along.

  “Yeaaah, I thought this world was weirdly creaky even though everything’s decided by games, but, man, you guys—you were really thinking just like those guys back in our old world… I didn’t see this coming.”

  “…Ohh…”

  Shiro, perhaps having wondered about the same thing, nodded looking as if she got it.

  “I see, so no one knows how to beat this game—no wonder God got bored and called us.”

  But, as if he’d had his moment to revel in understanding. He brought his gaze straight back to the game console in his hands and answered vaguely.

  “Well, relax. We’ll conquer the world just like we said we would. All of it, whabam, no two ways about it.”

  Then, as if remembering:

  “Oh, yeah, and Steph.”

  “Ah…wh-what is it?”

  “I’ll give you a real answer to your question of what if we lose.”

  Without a trace of his clowning from a moment before. Looking into Steph’s eyes with a serious gaze, Sora spoke.

  “—There is no one-in-a-million chance we might lose. Didn’t I tell you? It’s checkmate.”

  These decisive words of Sora—

  “Our game with the Eastern Union is already done. It’s already impossible for them to beat us.”

  —They went so far over her head, there was in the end no way Steph could believe them.

  “Well, to be precise, there is one last missing piece—but we’ll have it soon enough.

  “Until then, all we have to do is play some games and wait,” Sora finished, then went back to the game with his sister.

  —The only one who got it was his sister. What was left was a countless set of hints. And two who could not follow those hints to the answer.

  Jibril and Steph could only—look at each other.

  FAKE END

  …One week—since their incursion into the embassy of the Eastern Union and their declaration of hostilities.

  The rumor that Sora had bet the Race Piece had started somewhere and spread all at once. Considering that Sora had beaten an Elf spy in the tournament to decide the monarch. And then even defeated a Flügel, a notion was growing, “What if Sora himself is a foreign spy?” The nobles who had already had a bone to pick with Sora fanned the flames, and protests broke out. The Elkia Royal Castle was surrounded by crowds, and day after day words of abuse rained down.

  —And so, with weary steps, Steph appeared in the throne room and mumbled.

  “Sora…I cannot control it any longer…”

  The doubts being cast on Sora had spread even to the ministers. There were even some ministers participating in the protests.

  “Even the nobles who had been on your side have said that they cannot defend you now… And now the ministers are going on strike, leaving Elkia in a de facto state of anarchy…”

  Though Steph must have been just as mistrustful of Sora. She’d apparently done everything to try to keep things steady. As if out of options, she dropped on the floor, reporting.

  “Good work, Steph.
But everything will be resolved once we finish our game with the Eastern Union.”

  As usual, as he sat on the throne playing a game with Shiro, Sora praised Steph’s efforts, but at the same time gave a wry smile.

  “They’re saying we’re foreign spies? It’s kinda late. Shoulda thought of that when we beat Elf’s spy.”

  —Indeed. In Sora, laughing at his people, Steph could not after all wipe away her mistrust.

  “…What are you planning to do? They’re even holding a demonstration outside.”

  “Whatever; let them do what they want.”

  In this world, it made no difference if they held a demonstration. If they had a problem with Sora’s decision—their only option was to seize the authority of the agent plenipotentiary.

  —But no one had come to challenge them. In other words, that was all the nerve they had.

  “…Then, may I ask you what you have been doing in this last week?”

  Her question was half ironic and half genuinely seeking an explanation. But the answer that returned was terse.

  “Waiting.”

  That was all.

  “…For the Eastern Union to answer that they accept, you mean?”

  “Mmm, nah, not really ready for that yet; I want them to wait a little longer.”

  With this cryptic reply, Sora continued.

  “There’s one more ‘piece’ I want to come first—jeez, what’s taking so long…”

  To Sora as he vented at some unknown party.

  —Jibril came from the side at which she’d been waiting and reacted.

  “—Master, this…”

  But before Jibril could finish, Sora cut her off with his hand and spoke.

  “Oh, you’re finally here. You ever heard of timeliness?”

  —Everyone tracing Sora’s line of sight. But at the end of that line was no one. Jibril might have just felt the presence of something. Yet, to the entity invisible to Steph—and even to Shiro—Sora talked.

  “Yeah, I know why you’re here. I’m ready anytime, of course.”

  —With this, he picked Shiro up from his lap and stood her on the floor. Then he got up himself and looked around.

  …Glaring audaciously at Shiro, Steph, Jibril, and that entity visible only to him, Sora, after a long exhalation, said to Shiro:

  “Shiro, listen closely.”

  “…Mnn?”

  “I believe in you.”

  “…I believe in you, too.”

  While Shiro responded without hesitation, he returned only a smile.

  “Shiro, we are always two in one.”

  “Shiro, we are bound by a promise.”

  “Shiro, we are not the main characters of a boys’ manga.”

  “Shiro, we are always victorious before the game starts.”

  At Sora’s calm spelling out of these statements of obscure meaning. Somehow—

  “…Brother…?”

  Getting a sickening feeling. Shiro called her brother with unease. Sora, glowing in response, rubbing her head, said:

  “—Let’s go grab the last piece we need to swallow up the Eastern Union.”

  And then—facing that, he smiled and spoke.

  “—Come, shall we begin the game?”

  …—

  ……

  The sun slid through the window and her eyelids.

  “…Mm…nngh…”

  But, her consciousness resisting wakefulness to doze on. Shiro just turned once to sleep again, faithful to her desire to sleep more. Grasping her brother’s arm as usual—but. Her hand, groping around while her eyes remained closed, flailed vainly without grasping what should have been there.

  “…Ngh?”

  Perhaps—she’d fallen off the bed again. But, in her sleepy head, she remembered that she was not sleeping in the bed of the royal bedchamber anymore. Reluctantly, she opened her dazed eyes to look for her brother and grab on to him, but—. The person—who was supposed to always be there—…

  ……

  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 consciousness. Stephanie—aka Steph—chuckled restlessly.

  “—Shiro, you’re awake, aren’t you! It’s morning!”

  Bam, bam. With her hands full of cards, Steph kicked the door and addressed the queen by her name alone. But. Perhaps the door had not been shut properly. For her knock was enough to open it smoothly—

  “U-um… Could it be you’re awake…?”

  —and Steph peered into the royal bedchamber, but. What she saw—

  “Brother… Brother, where arrre you… I’m…sorry…it was my fault… I…won’t fall out, of bed…anymore…so pleaase come out…eugh…”

  —was Shiro, knees in arms, only trembling and letting out big tears.

  “—H—uh—wh-what’s wrong, Shiro?!”

  Steph, who’d just a moment ago been snorting about Shiro getting what was coming to her. Was so shocked by the sight that she dropped the cards on the ground and ran to Shiro.

  “Wh-what’s wrong; are you sick?!”

  But, as though she didn’t even hear Steph. Shiro just went on crying and muttering.

  “Brother…Brother… Come ouut… Don’t leave me a…looone…”

  Steph, appearing sincerely troubled by her mutterings, said:

  “U-um… Whom do you mean by ‘Brother’? I-I just have to bring him to you, yes?”

  Then. Steph’s words finally made it into Shiro’s ears. What was—Steph saying? Shiro only had one brother. Shiro took out her phone and opened her contact list—but.

  “…No way…”

  —That couldn’t be. There was only one number registered in Shiro’s phone: her brother’s. Yet. Why—. Why did her phone say—0 Contacts.

  “…That’s impossible… No way…no way, no way…”

  Seeing the blood drain from skin already white. Steph felt something of no small scale and spoke to Shiro desperately.

  “Sh-Shiro, please, are you all right?! Tell me what is wrong!!”

  But Shiro seemed no longer to even realize that Steph was there. As she furiously went through her phone’s e-mail records, game accounts, addresses. Opening her image folder, opening the subfolders—no.

  —There was no trace of her brother.

  “…No way… This…can’t be…”

  In a panic, Shiro checked the date on the phone.

  —The twenty-first. Her brother had been playing a game with her on the throne—on the nineteenth. Shiro instantly went back through her photographic memory, through all the portable game console, tablet, and phone displays she had seen, and checked that they said 19. Yes, it had definitely been the nineteenth. But then it should be the twentieth.

  —So what had she done yesterday?

  —…No. She had no memory—whatsoever. The memory of Shiro, able to read books she’d read five years ago backward from memory alone. Had—a complete gap, as if she’d slept through a whole day.

  —Her brother was not at her side. He wasn’t in her phone’s contact list. He didn’t appear in e-mails or records or logs or anything.

  —Her brother could not be demonstrated to exist at all. Having got the situation together, Shiro. Could come up with only three possibilities.

  Possibility 1: Some unknown force had erased her brother’s very existence from this world.

  Possibility 2: She had fin
ally lost it.

  Possibility 3: She had already lost it—and she was just now regaining her sanity.

  But, regardless of which of these possibilities was correct. None, to Shiro, was an answer sufficient to hold the darkness back from overcoming her vision. With a wavering voice, with difficulty, she opened her mouth.

  —To say what she hadn’t. Since she could guess the answer but by no means wanted to hear it. With the last of her hope—said his name to Steph.

  “…Ste-ph… Where is Brother… Where is Sora…?”

  But the answer she then received. Was, as she’d guessed.

  —The answer she’d by no means wanted to hear.

  “…Sora? That is, someone’s name, correct; who is that?”

  —Oh.

  Please. Let this be only a terrible, awful dream. Let me wake up and find my brother sleeping there as always. Let him just tell me—“Good morning.” That was all she wished for. As she surrendered herself to the darkness that overcame.

  —Shiro let go of her consciousness.

  TO BE CONTINUED

  AFTERWORD

  Hello, nice to see you again, it’s the author and illustrator, Yuu Kamiya.

  —I-it looks as if somehow we’ve made it all right to the second volume being published, and for that I could not be more grateful. I mean, I have already had some experience with my manga and books with my illustrations going on store shelves. But, you know, I’m still totally a novice when it comes to writing light novels. I wrote it all and sent it in, and then much later I hear now it’s going on store shelves and I finally realize it’s for real. And then my stomach starts hurting from the stress, so before I know it I’ve fled to Skyr*m and I’m casting mad buffs on my weapons and venturing into ruins and collecting books and enjoying my alternate life in a literal other world with my hobby of gaming! And then my editor calls me and pulls me back to reality and it’s already been released! Thanks to this, I have succeeded spectacularly in bypassing the pressure!

 

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