by Yuu Miyazaki
“I don’t need you to tell me that.”
“Hmph, I guess not.”
He’s certainly more self-conscious than he was before, too.
“Well then…”
“Hold on—”
“I know,” Lester said, rising to his feet and brushing the dust from his body. “A promise is a promise. I’ll tell you what I’ve been doing this past month.”
Ayato’s home was located on the outskirts of a city in Japan’s Shinshu region, around an hour by high-speed train from the North Kanto Mass-Impact Crater Lake.
After a short bus trip from the station, they found themselves standing in front of the gate leading to an imposing single-story Japanese-style house.
“Th-th-this is your h-h-house, Ayato?!” Kirin’s voice wavered with tension.
“Yeah… Try to calm down a little, Kirin,” Ayato said, flashing her a forced smile.
It was his first time home in a while as well, however, and he could barely keep his emotions from welling up inside him.
It was an old-fashioned building, connected to an adjoining dojo. It was surrounded by a garden that, while not particularly large, was meticulously maintained, and filled with memories of times he had shared with Haruka and Saya.
“U-um, maybe I should go get a present or something…” Kirin began turning back the way they had come.
“I told you, you don’t need to worry about that,” Ayato replied, grabbing her by the collar.
“B-but your father might think it rude of me, and I—I…” Kirin’s voice trailed off. She looked as if she were about to break down in tears.
“He doesn’t care about things like that. Or rather, he doesn’t like people fussing over him, so you’d probably be fine even if you were a bit rude. So feel free to take what you want from the fridge, for example…”
“I—I couldn’t do that!”
No, I guess not…
That would be asking too much of her.
“Anyway, let’s go.”
“O-okay…!”
Ayato opened the door to the entryway and invited Kirin in, but the house was silent. There was no sign of any occupants.
“Um…”
“Ah, he’s probably in the dojo,” Ayato realized, urging the bewildered Kirin to follow him.
From what Ayato understood, the head dojo of the Amagiri Shinmei style wasn’t presently taking any students.
After Ayato’s victory at the Phoenix, Claudia had told him she would have Galaxy make sure things didn’t get hectic at his home, and they certainly seemed to have accomplished that.
So what could his father, the head of the Amagiri Shinmei style, be doing in the dojo?
The answer was obvious.
“…Dad? I’m home,” Ayato called out quietly to the man silently meditating in the darkness—his father, Masatsugu.
“So you’re back.”
Ayato couldn’t help but be astonished at the sight of his father as the man slowly opened his eyes and, without a further word, smoothly rose to his feet. His movements, as usual, were perfectly guarded.
His status as the head of the Amagiri Shinmei style was no empty title.
He had a strongly trained physique that belied his years; a solemn, severe countenance; and above all, a stern presence. He hadn’t changed at all from how Ayato remembered him.
“U-um, h-h-how do you do! I’m Kirin Toudou!” Kirin blurted out, bowing down ninety degrees.
At this, Masatsugu shifted his attention to her for the first time. “Ah… The girl from the Toudou style. I should thank you for taking care of my son. I don’t have much to offer, but please, make yourself at home.”
“Th-thank you…! But, uh…?” Kirin turned toward Ayato, as if only now realizing something. “Um, your father isn’t…?” she murmured doubtfully.
“Ah, right…,” Ayato responded, his voice equally low. “I guess I forgot to mention it. But no, my dad isn’t a Genestella.”
At this, Kirin’s gaze flickered back and forth between them in astonishment.
CHAPTER 3
FATHER AND MOTHER
“…”
Ayato and Masatsugu moved their chopsticks in utter silence. Masatsugu was an uncommunicative person in general, opening his mouth only when something needed to be done. It was, of course, difficult to talk to someone with that kind of personality, so Ayato had long since given up trying to engage him in conversation.
Indeed, dinner tonight at the Amagiri household was just as it always was.
Things had been different when Haruka had been there. She had acted as a sort of intermediary between the two of them, effortlessly helping the conversation flow around her.
Dinner was simmered fish with sautéed lotus root, boiled komatsuna, and miso soup with fried tofu and radish. Ayato and Masatsugu had cooked everything themselves.
It certainly tasted like home cooking, but Ayato couldn’t help but feel that the flavors were somehow different whenever he or his father were responsible for them. His image of home cooking was Haruka’s cooking, or else the kind of thing that Saya’s mother, Kaya, would put together.
“Kirin, please don’t hold back.”
“Y-yes… Thank you…,” she said with a relieved nod.
Ayato was used to this atmosphere, but she probably found it stifling.
“Well, I guess it isn’t anything special, though.”
“No, it’s very nice!” But despite her words, there was something unnatural about the movement of her chopsticks.
She was probably still nervous.
“B-by the way… What were you like as a child, Ayato?” she asked, probably trying to lighten the mood.
“I was just a normal kid, I suppose,” Ayato answered with a smile.
At this, Masatsugu, his countenance unchanging, spoke up: “He was the kind of kid who didn’t follow instructions.”
“Come on, Dad…” But seeing Kirin give a real, unfeigned smile for the first time since they had arrived, Ayato couldn’t bring himself to say anything stronger.
“Ha-ha, so you were a troublemaker!”
“He’d quarrel with the students. He’d get serious when it came to training, but he always strayed too far from the set forms.”
“So now you open your mouth…,” Ayato muttered as he stared into his food.
Kirin, watching on from the side, shook with laughter.
“Kirin?” Ayato wondered.
“Ah, s-sorry… It’s just, this is the first time I’ve seen you like this.”
“Like this?”
“How do I put it… Acting your age?” she answered, tilting her head slightly to one side.
“Huh? R-really?”
He was slightly taken aback by her words, perhaps because he hadn’t realized it for himself.
“Does he normally act more mature?” Masatsugu’s question only added to Ayato’s surprise.
“Um…,” Kirin answered, pondering. “Rather than mature…calmer, maybe, or more easygoing?”
“Oh? That does come as a surprise.”
Ayato hadn’t realized that either—nor, by the looks of it, had his father.
There was no denying, however, that Kirin had succeeded in brightening the mood somewhat.
Ayato was finally able to relax during the family meal in a way he hadn’t been able to in a long time.
And then—
“Ah, let me do the washing up,” Kirin said when they were finished, as she began gathering the tableware.
“You don’t need to worry about that, Kirin. We’d never make a guest—”
“Thank you, Miss Toudou. That would be a great help.”
“Dad…?” Ayato glanced toward him, only for his father to stare back at him with a meaningful gaze.
Ayato—and, it seemed, Kirin too—could guess what he meant.
In short, he was asking her to leave the room.
As Kirin left for the kitchen, the dishes and cutlery gathered on a tray, Masatsugu straightened his posture, his expression grow
ing even sterner.
Right. Masatsugu had invited Ayato home because he had something he wanted to tell him.
“…What is it?”
“It’s about Haruka.” Masatsugu headed, as ever, straight to the point—not that Ayato hadn’t expected as much.
“Oh…? So now you want to talk about her,” Ayato said in a low voice, his eyes narrowed.
His father hadn’t appeared to be particularly worried when Haruka had first disappeared.
Not only would he brush aside any suggestion that they go and look for her when Ayato so much as mentioned her disappearance but Masatsugu would also simply tell him that they should respect her wishes.
That was ultimately why their relationship had deteriorated so dramatically.
“You haven’t even come to see her. Not even once.”
It was close to a year now since Ayato had found her, after all.
All his father had to do was go to the hospital in Asterisk. There should have been nothing stopping him from doing that.
“…I’ll go when she wakes up.”
“That isn’t the problem!” Ayato blurted out, before forcing his eyes shut.
Things always ended up like this when the two of them spoke about Haruka.
“…Sorry.”
It was a little late, but what Kirin had said earlier came back to him. He did have a habit of acting childish in front of his father.
He tried to calm the waves beating at his heart—but the self-possession that he had finally managed to restore was soon brought crashing down with only a few short words.
“Listen, Ayato… Haruka isn’t my daughter.”
“…What?”
Ayato had difficulty comprehending what his father was trying to say.
“At first, I thought it would be better for you to hear it from Haruka herself, but now…now that it’s come to this, I guess we’ve got no choice. You’re older now than she was back then. You should be able to deal with it.”
“H-hold on a minute, Dad… What are you saying…?”
Ayato, unable to believe those words that had already begun to seep deep into his heart, shook his head weakly.
“When I first met your mother…when I first met Sakura, she was already pregnant—with Haruka.”
Sakura Amagiri was Ayato’s mother.
“But that would mean…” It would mean that they were really half-siblings, with different fathers. “Th-that can’t be! I mean, in that case, Haruka’s real father—”
“I never asked your mother. I never looked into her life before she entered mine, or had anyone else look into it. And she never told me about it. Only…” Masatsugu paused there for a moment, though when he continued, his voice was as matter-of-fact as ever. “I don’t know exactly when or how she found out, but your sister seems to have realized that I’m not her real father.”
“Wha—?!”
Ayato was lost for words.
The Haruka he remembered had always been gentle and composed. Not once did he remember her ever seeming worried or depressed.
But no, there were exceptions to that—like the day she had placed his seal on him.
“No! So you’re saying that her disappearance had something to do with that?!”
“Maybe.”
But if that was true, why had she gone so far as to put that seal on him? “I’ll protect you. That’s why.” That was what she had said back then. But what did she mean by that? And why had she thrown herself into something as dangerous as the Eclipse?
Ayato didn’t understand any of it.
I guess the only to find way to find out is to ask her directly…
He let out a resigned sigh, before glancing back up at his father. “Dad, I’ve got something I need to discuss with you as well.”
“…What?”
“It’s about waking her. They might be able to do it as my wish for winning the Gryps, but I’m not—”
“Do whatever you think is best,” Masatsugu interrupted before he could finish.
“…Huh?”
Ayato couldn’t hold back the feelings of resentment that surged forth at his father’s apparent lack of concern.
“What’s that supposed to mean?! You could at least hear me out!”
“There’s no need.”
“You’re always like this! You don’t listen to anything I have to say!”
Ayato stared down at the table, grinding his teeth.
Why did it have to come to this?
No, he should have known that it would. His father held himself to a strict, unwavering rule—one that Ayato didn’t fully comprehend.
Haruka had understood him, but not Ayato.
“…Just let me ask you one more thing.”
If his father was going to be so recalcitrant, he would ask him something that he should be able to answer.
Ayato forced himself to bury his anger and stifle his emotions before continuing. “What was Mom like? What kind of person was she?”
If Haruka had left home to search for her real father, Ayato’s sole connection to that endeavor was his mother, Sakura.
Ayato had no strong memories of her. He remembered pestering Masatsugu and Haruka to tell him about her when he had been young, but there had been no sense of tangible reality to the person they had described.
Masatsugu remained silent for a moment, deep in thought, before responding. “She was…strong.”
That wasn’t the answer Ayato had been hoping for, but he could sense real emotion in his father’s words.
It was enough to give him the peace of mind that he needed, at least in part.
“I see. Thank you.”
But with that, there was nothing left for the two of them to discuss.
Ayato rose to his feet, quietly making his way from the room.
“So Haruka Amagiri is your daughter,” Dirk Eberwein said from the other side of the air-window, his voice and expression as sour as ever.
“Oh…? That’s some excellent probing you’ve done there.” Madiath, impressed, smiled back at him, putting his hands together in exaggerated applause. “You wouldn’t guess how long it took me to find her.”
Madiath’s office was illuminated only by the faint light of the moon outside and the air-window in front of him. The shadows were where he preferred to reside.
“Hmph. It wasn’t that hard, with all these clues lying around.”
“Hmm. I suppose not.”
No, it was only a matter of time before anyone looking into Ayato Amagiri also looked into his mother. The problem was what came after that, but if you took Dirk’s special talents into account—or rather, the special talents of those who served as his eyes and ears—it was by no means impossible to pull back the curtain.
“Who would have guessed that Akari Yachigusa could still be alive?”
“…She isn’t.”
How many years had it been, Madiath wondered, since he had heard that name said aloud?
Akari Yachigusa—his one and only tag partner, someone who now only existed deep in his buried past.
“Ah, is that so? The records all say she passed away quite a while back. The year after you two won the Phoenix, in fact.”
“Exactly.”
“The thing is—she actually changed her face, her name, even her past, and started a new life. But there’s no way that a Strega like Akari Yachigusa could turn into someone else so suddenly. Not that easily. There’s no way the IEFs would stand for it. Which means—”
“Very perceptive of you. Yes, that was her wish after winning the Festa. And who else could grant it but them? Although, I only realized it myself after she had already left our fair city,” Madiath said jokingly, with a shrug of his shoulders. “And what exactly are you trying to accomplish, digging up the past like this?”
“I couldn’t care less about this…gossip. I just don’t want you to let your personal feelings get in the way of what we’re doing,” Dirk said, his gaze growing sharper.
“Heh, i
t’s a bit late for that… You and me, we’re both driven by personal feelings, if you look back far enough. Aren’t we?”
“Quit screwing around. You’ve kept Haruka Amagiri alive this long, and you’ve been watching from the sidelines while Ayato Amagiri takes the crown at the Gryps. It’s all connected.”
Yes, it was truly impressive how Dirk had managed to connect the dots.
At this point, Madiath wouldn’t have been surprised if his counterpart already knew about that night, too.
But be that as it may—
“Now, now, there’s no need for this suspicion of yours. If I killed her, I’d never be able to undo the seal placed on me. That’s the only reason she’s still alive.”
“If that’s all you’re after, you could get that lunatic woman to do it for you. From what I hear, she’s been saying as much to nearly anyone who’ll listen.”
“And would you be willing to part with Miss Orphelia in compensation?”
It certainly wouldn’t be impossible for Hilda to dispel the ability, but she could be guaranteed to want to take advantage of the situation. It didn’t require much thought to work out what she would demand.
“I’m sure she’s fully aware of our state of affairs. She won’t be likely to compromise. So speaking for myself, I’m not willing to give up our ace just yet.”
“You shameless little…! Firstly, it all depends on Ayato Amagiri, and he wants to wake her up right away! So what are you gonna do?”
“There’s no need to worry about that. I’ve taken precautions.” Madiath leaned back into his chair with a composed smile. “Ayato Amagiri won spectacularly, as expected. Thanks to him, we now have our first chance in decades for a Festa that could end in a grand slam. The excitement is palpable, and most advantageous as far as the plan is concerned, wouldn’t you say?”
“I’ll give you that. And the council has almost reached a decision. Still…” Dirk paused there, his eyes gleaming with something bordering on hatred. “You’d better not have forgotten. It was Haruka Amagiri who wrecked our plans last time.”
“I understand that. Much better than you do. It was me, Varda, and Ecknardt who put those plans together in the first place. You were simply riding on our coattails.”
The plan six years ago had fallen apart at the final stage, at Haruka’s hand, exactly as Dirk had said.
