by Blitz Kiva
Her eyes opened in surprise. “You remembered?”
“Yes, I did.” He did have confidence in his memory. (Of course, he had confidence in his everything.)
“That day... I was so happy that you appreciated the clothing I had chosen for myself,” said Nem.
“Ah.”
Megumi’s smile began to grow more natural as she recounted more of her memories of those days. It was Ichiro’s first time hearing these private thoughts from her.
How much his words that day had encouraged her. How they had inspired her to choose her current path. Megumi spoke about it all with such pleasure, and Ichiro was pleased by her very fine smile. Each time she spoke of something that had happened between them, he flipped to the bookmark in his own memory and confirmed it.
“I remember the first time I saw that brooch, too,” Megumi said, gazing at the unsightly brooch currently nesting on Ichiro’s lapel.
“I suppose that’s our most recent memory together,” he answered.
“Yes, it truly surprised me. Because... I couldn’t believe you would come wearing a brooch so... utterly lacking in taste.”
“Ah.” It was a more frank remark than she usually made, but he wasn’t particularly bothered by it.
“It was such a shock, and it made me so frustrated,” she said. “I wanted to find out what you liked so much about that brooch so that I could make something like it.”
“But you couldn’t.”
Megumi nodded in response to Ichiro’s simplest of statements. “It’s caused me to lose all confidence in myself. When I think about how I lost to something so amateurish... I couldn’t help but feel that everything I’ve believed in up until now had been for nothing.”
Ichiro could have made any number of rude observations. That it wasn’t all about winning and losing. That her dismissal of the brooch was just a revelation of her own limits.
But that would be nonsense. Instead, he merely closed his eyes and listened to Megumi’s words.
Such things were not the true core of the problem. The fact was, right now, she was experiencing a setback. She wouldn’t be able to move on until she overcame it, nor would she be able to understand what was “good” about Iris’s designs until then.
“So...” At last, Megumi looked straight into Ichiro’s eyes and spoke: “I will not lose.”
A deep, powerful declaration.
Ichiro nodded silently in response. “I know.”
That was all that he could say. He would not say whether it was Iris or Nem who would win. It was not he who would decide that. This competition was between Megumi Fuyo and Iris alone, and to say anything to diminish that... that would be true nonsense.
Megumi looked like whatever had been haunting her had now lifted. “It feels so good to get all that off my chest...”
Ichiro replied with a shrug. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“But for all I’ve said about her, I am a bit grateful to Iris,” Megumi continued with a beaming expression. “If she hadn’t intervened just then, you would have said something terrible to me, wouldn’t you have?”
“Well, it wouldn’t have been pleasant for you to hear, I’m sure,” said Ichiro. “I suspect it wouldn’t have been pleasant for me to say, either. So I, too, am grateful to Iris.”
“She is a good girl, isn’t she?” asked Megumi.
“I hope you’ll say that to her when it’s all over,” said Ichiro. “I believe you could be a very good friend to Iris, Megumi.”
Megumi looked shocked by Ichiro’s frank proclamation. “Me? A friend to Iris?”
“Yes.” In fact, that was the inverse of how Ichiro really felt. It was Iris whom he believed would be a very good friend to Megumi. What he grasped from what Megumi had told him was that she had been unable to make friends on equal footing to her. Even Azami Nono, the closest in position among those she knew, could not be a true friend as long as their businesses were entangled.
Iris had the mettle to try to deal with everyone around her as an equal, regardless of their position. He suspected that was a hard thing for Megumi to find.
“I see... In that case, that’s all the more reason to fight my hardest,” Megumi whispered.
“Iris told me not to interfere in any way,” said Ichiro.
“I fully agree,” Megumi said firmly. Ichiro had never seen her so steeled about anything. There was a certain nobility in it. “I must defeat Iris with my own power. I do not want anyone interfering, either.”
“I’m relieved to hear that.” Those words finally cleared up one of the doubts Ichiro had been holding in his heart. “I’m sorry to bring it up in such an unrelated venue, but if I may, I’d like to toast to your upcoming battle.”
“Certainly.” With an expression of renewed decisiveness, Megumi raised her glass, nodded, and brought her glass to Ichiro’s.
The cold clink between them could barely be heard above the din of the party around them.
“Welcome back, Ichiro-sama,” Sakurako Ogi greeted him as he arrived in the underground parking lot.
“Yes, thank you,” he answered. “Could we set out right away?”
“Yes, sir,” she said. “Do you want to go straight home?”
“Hmm... yes. I think that might be best.”
With practiced motions, Sakurako opened the back door of the Lincoln, and Ichiro slid in and sat down. He noticed that she had a smartphone and a college-ruled notebook sitting in the passenger seat; she really must have been scouring the wiki the entire time.
In the driver’s seat, Sakurako fastened her seatbelt over her maid’s apron. She released the parking brake, flicked the white sedan’s headlights on, and started it rolling slowly forward. As always, she was very cautious in her driving, checking left and right before each turn.
“While you were at the party, I managed to choose the general direction for my second character,” Sakurako explained as she eased the sedan out of the parking lot.
“So you are going to make one?” Ichiro asked.
“Well, it was your birthday present to me,” she said. “It would be a waste not to use it effectively!”
“I wonder if you’ve used the plamodels I gave you last year effectively.”
“I have. I really have.”
He had known Sakurako for five years, and he had given her five birthday presents. It was all right to buy her clothing and accessories and such, and it would likely have made her happy enough. But instead, each time, he had bought her something relevant to her hobbies. He didn’t understand those hobbies, but he had never failed to buy her something she wanted.
His present to her this time had been a Narrow Fantasy Online premium package. As usual, it was an unopened return, bought at a steep markup. Sakurako had been plainly overjoyed when she’d seen what was inside... but to list the details of her reaction here would be an affront to her dignity, so let’s move on.
“Does having a second character mean you’ll retire Sir Kirschwasser?” Ichiro asked.
“Certainly not,” she declared. “I just want to enjoy the game in a new way for a little while. Kirschwasser will always be my main!”
“Oh?” Ichiro had no idea what was the standard practice for things like this.
Second characters were common in games with liberal character editing systems, particularly online games. According to Sakurako, male and female characters had access to different equipment and class fighting styles, so she was going to make a second character to enjoy that aspect of it. He didn’t really understand it, but that seemed reasonable enough.
“I’m still not sure if I’ll join Iris Brand or not...” Sakurako said. “Ah, but I wonder if I might ask you to help me level up, Ichiro-sama.”
“I wouldn’t mind, but with fewer Warp Feathers on the market, it will take me some time to reach Starter Town,” he responded.
“Oh, that’s right! You’re out of them, too...” Sakurako stopped the car at a red light and slumped in disappointment. “I saw an aggregate
article about that on Matsunaga’s blog, too. People seem pretty upset about it. They’re saying the devs had better deal with it soon...”
It was now the third day of someone buying up all the Warp Feathers and limiting their availability on the market. It was certainly about the time player patience tended to start running out with such things. He’d heard it was starting to have serious ramifications on players’ abilities to get around in the game.
The front-line Achievers were in a particularly wretched state because they couldn’t return to Glasgobara Merchant Town for restoration of their weapons and armor from the Alchemists and Blacksmiths. Instead, a few gutsy crafting class players were seeing it as a business opportunity, and were going to the front lines to offer their services personally.
“But what can you do about them being bought out?” Sakurako pondered. “Is it even possible to buy them out? I suppose it is, since we can see it happening, but you would think other players would try to stop it...”
“I may have an idea, but it’s only a hypothesis for now, so I won’t say it.”
“Oh, really?” Sakurako turned, unconsciously, but Ichiro just shrugged.
“The light is green.”
“Oops!” Sakurako started the car moving once more. “And NaroFan prohibits RMT, too! So there’s no way you can use your money to resolve it...”
“It’s a smart policy, so I don’t mind it,” he said. Most MMORPG titles forbade “Real Money Trade,” or the process of exchanging game goods for real-life funds and vice versa, and VRMMOs were no different. Sakurako’s comment referred to the fact that, because RMT was forbidden, it was even harder to understand what someone might hope to gain by buying up all the Warp Feathers.
“But you have an idea of who it is, right?” she asked.
“Yes, I do,” he said. “And since you’re making a second character, perhaps I could ask you to investigate.”
“Oho!” Sakurako seemed happy to hear that suggestion. “A maid-investigator... It’s like The Housekeeper Saw! Ah, maybe I’ll make my second class a Shinobi after all!”
“Sakurako-san, I’m glad that you’re happy, but please watch where you’re driving,” Ichiro warned Sakurako, who was gripping the wheel with a grin.
That reminded him: Iris would probably be in the middle of the part-time job he’d arranged for her around now. Ichiro gazed out the window.
His thoughts were not anything so laudable as, “I hope she’s doing okay,” but much closer to the certainty of, “She’s probably not doing very well.”
In a way, this indicated a significant trust that Ichiro had for Iris.
I think this is gonna kill me... Airi thought.
Airi Kakitsubata was a 17-year-old girl attending a design trade school. She wanted to be a fashion designer when she grew up.
But what she was wearing right now was not the flashy casual fashion that young girls loved, nor a stylish formal dress that drew all eyes to her in envy. It was a thick plush oven encasing a hell of sweaty humidity.
That’s right: it was a mascot costume.
The part-time job Ichiro had mediated for her was being part of a PR campaign for a new arcade. She was currently walking around Akihabara, helping the campaign girl hand out fliers. She had thought this might be a chance to get a glimpse at the young heir’s real face, but he hadn’t turned up. Though now that she thought about it, maybe that was for the best. It meant he wouldn’t have to see her in this disgraceful state.
Apparently the arcade had been having understaffing issues, and they hadn’t been able to secure a mascot performer for the day. Thus Airi, who’d just happened to need a job for that day, had been extremely welcome.
She’d confessed that she’d never done it before, but the old man running things had just smiled and said, “You’ll be fine. Just strike cute poses.”
Airi had thought that sounded simple enough, but once she’d put the costume on, she’d realized... she had no idea what a cute pose was.
Ugh... I think I’m gonna barf... Airi thought, twisting her face into a nauseated expression.
Beside her, the campaign girl, handing out fliers to passersby, seemed to be cool as a cucumber. Airi wished she could strip off the costume—as well as her clothing—and run screaming down the thoroughfare in just her underwear.
“Hi! Akihabara Cybertown is having its grand opening! Hope to see you there!” The campaign girl was putting everything she had into handing out the fliers, flashing a charming smile to everyone around her. Her exposed chest area seemed to draw the gazes of all the passing men.
Yeah... guys can’t resist that, can they? thought Airi. Those poor creatures could not resist their base instincts.
Airi herself was of the species “girl,” a creature that instinctively gave a wide berth to the otaku who made up most of Akihabara’s population. Even so, she was stunned by the professionalism of the young woman in being willing to wield her breasts as a tool to get attention. Even though the campaign girl was likely a few years older than herself, Airi couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to young people’s sense of virtue nowadays.
To play the mascot, which she wasn’t sure if it was creepy or cute (she’d like to see who designed the thing), Airi swayed side to side, bent her knees a little, and waved enthusiastically. But it was hard for her to really lose herself in the role of a cute thing when the environment was so negative. It was hot, it was humid, and it stank; it was no place for a 17-year-old girl.
In the midst of smiling and handing out fliers, the campaign girl cast a glance in Airi’s direction and gave her a pat on the shoulder. It was the sign for checking to see if she was okay. The campaign girl was attractive, gregarious, considerate, and she had a large chest: truly a woman with everything.
It’s okay, I can keep going, Airi thought. She didn’t say it out loud, but she waved her arms energetically to make the point. She would receive a bonus to her wages if she gave out all the fliers by the deadline, which meant she had to keep going.
All this work would net her 15,000 yen—20,000 if she got the bonus. It was just enough to buy a single outfit from MiZUNO’s new summer line. Airi had never realized that earning the money for just one outfit could be so forbidding.
Hard work is worth respecting... The words floated up in her heat-addled mind. She had gained even more gratitude for her parents, who both worked. A whole day’s worth of suffering was worth only two portraits of Yukichi Fukuzawa. (That is to say, two 10,000-yen bills.)
“Wow, what an outfit! Can I get a picture?”
A group of young people in tawdry outfits had started talking to the campaign girl. Airi had heard there were a lot of young people in Akihabara like this these days, too, but it was still a bit surprising to see them. The woman’s ability to respond with “Oh, of course!” without the slightest wince was another sign of her professionalism.
Airi had reached a conclusion: exposed flesh was a way of drawing men’s attention.
It had been the same way at the beach in NaroFan the other day. Both in the real world or the game world, the ratio of flesh-colored elements to non- was one secret to popularity. In addition, though she didn’t want to admit it, in a male-centric environment like Narrow Fantasy Online, it was a clear shortcut to getting votes.
She remembered Edward’s words: the needs of the audience. If she could match them...
Airi managed to finish processing that information in her overcooked mind. She had to undress Felicia. That was the only way.
Immediately after that thought entered her mind, Airi felt a dull impact against her side. “Ghh...” A groan nearly escaped her lips, but she bit it back.
Right now, I’m a cute mascot.
She tried to ascertain who it was who had hit her, but her visibility was too limited.
“Whoa! What’s this thing? Creepy!” The voice—high-pitched, male, and prepubescent—was coming from directly in front of her, but the costume wasn’t equipped to let her look downwards. The
voice was followed by another hard impact.
Whoosh.
In that instant, Airi felt the black flame that lived inside of her rage to life. If given form, the feeling would spell out the words “This stupid brat.”
Airi Kakitsubata was no bodhisattva. She was just an ordinary, average girl, and the fuse on her temper had limits.
“Hey, hitting’s not nice! Don’t do that, okay?” The angelic campaign girl broke the two apart before Airi could explode. “Our little mascot is gonna go bye-bye for a while! See you later, everyone!”
As if sensing Airi reaching her breaking point, the girl dragged Airi off by a hand while waving to the crowd with the other. She led her into the arcade, which was not yet open. It was then, for the first time, that Airi learned the name of the possibly-cute, possibly-creepy mascot she was playing.
The instant they got into the break room, the angelic campaign girl removed the head from her mascot outfit. “Great work out there. It must have been hard!”
“Ah, yeah...” Airi wiped the sweat off her face with a towel, then refilled her sports drink. Just mustering those words took everything she had. The young heir had told her to bring clothes that were easy to move in, so she’d assumed it would be hard labor of some sort, but she hadn’t imagined it would be this bad.
Airi was a fashionable girl who never left the house without makeup on. Today, thinking she would probably sweat, she had avoided her usual makeup routine for a bare minimum application, but even that had melted away in just the first ten minutes.
“Airi, was it?” the girl asked. “You’ve got such a great complexion! Are you still in your teens?”
“I’m 17.”
“Oh, a high school student!” The campaign girl sat down next to Airi and fanned her with the binder in her hands. “You chose a pretty tough job, even if it is just for one day, huh?”
“I needed... money, so...” Airi was normally the kind of person who had no trouble chatting it up with people she’d just met. But right now, she was so groggy, she almost couldn’t finish a single sentence. She was only now just barely managing to recover presence of mind as she drank in the fresh oxygen around her. “Earning money... it’s hard, huh?”
