[LN] Drowning in Summer : Volume 1 Chapter 2 Part 2

Volume 1

Chapter 2 Part 2

Translator : PolterGlast

I thought the first day of school being September 1st was only in fiction. As I passed through the school gate, just barely on time on the morning of August 24th, I thought that.

 

I hate getting up early. During summer vacation, I usually slept until ten, so it was impossible to suddenly get up and be at school by eight.

Thinking about the two-stage lecture I would get after school today for being late and not finishing my homework, I felt annoyed. Should I just go home?

 

There was no one else on the way to the entrance hall. It must have just been that kind of timing.

Even though it was morning, the end of August was still in the midst of summer.

The lingering heat tormented my skin, and sweat was seeping down my neck. Humanity isn't kind to nature, and nature isn't kind to humanity either. As a human, I can't even be kind to humans. The cicadas chirping seemed to be lamenting this terrible world.

 

On my way to the entrance hall in the worst mood, I saw a figure in the bicycle parking lot.

In the bicycle parking lot with a row of old, almost collapsing roofs, there he was in a spot that was out of my sight.

 

"Eh?"

 

I was startled for a moment and my shoulders jumped, but I quickly realized who that person was and that he was waiting for me. Tall stature, ear cuffs on both ears, and a neatly styled wolf cut. There's only one student like that in this school.

 

"Hikaru?"

"Good morning."

 

Leaning against the pillar, Hikaru approached me quietly as soon as he noticed me.

I had a lot of things to say, and I asked the first thing I noticed.

 

"Why aren't you wearing your school uniform?"

 

He was in casual clothes.

 

"Because I'm not going to school anymore," Hikaru said as if stating an immutable fact.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"It's hot today. It's really getting annoying."

 

Hikaru didn't answer my follow-up question and turned his face to the morning sky, which was still pale, squinting his eyes as if annoyed. His center-parted bangs flowed smoothly to both ears, exposing his beautiful forehead and eyebrows to the sun. His eyes, shaded by long eyelashes, were as still as if he were gazing at the horizon, and he had a strange sense of resignation.

A sense of incongruity.

I thought I had a pretty good understanding of him by now, having known him for about a year.

Sometimes he would have this expression—like the one I saw last summer. With eyes that seemed to have given up on the whole world, he would fix his gaze somewhere distant, stripping all emotion from his face. I knew him like that.

Still, it's arrogant to think you can understand everything about a person. I knew that there were many things I didn't know about him—but something about the current Hikaru was off.

 

"What's wrong?" I asked.

 

The subtle difference from his usual disturbed me.

I stared at Hikaru. Our gazes met.

 

"I killed my mother," he said in a terribly calm voice.

 

Was he serious? Was he just kidding me? But I knew Hikaru wasn't that kind of person.

Even so, murder is something I cannot believe.

I forced a smile.

 

"That's a terrible joke," I said, trying to brush it off lightly. "I'm going now."

As I was about to leave, Hikaru said, "Give me your hand." Obeying without hesitation, Hikaru placed five small, plastic-like pieces in my palm.

"What are these?"

 

Small, thin, mysterious objects painted a bright red. They were lightweight and slightly distorted in shape. They weren't cut by a machine. Looking closely, the paint was uneven. They felt strangely warm for plastic. And the shape—

 

"...Fingernails?"

 

As soon as I said it out loud, I got goosebumps. My body trembled violently, and the objects scattered on the ground. The eerie red of the nail polish gained a slight saturation in the sunlight.

Looking at my palm, I saw a dry, powder-like substance that looked like blood. A shiver ran down my spine. I rubbed my hand against my skirt. I couldn't afford to worry about getting my clothes dirty. I just wanted to get rid of this discomfort as soon as possible.

 

"These are fingernails, right?"

 

Did he peel them off his mother's fingers? I was sure he had done it before she died because there was no reason for him to go to the trouble of removing them after he had killed her. It was like torture. Slowly inflicting pain and then taking her life. Was that how he cruelly killed his mother?

I don't know anything about Hikaru's mother other than the fact that she was extremely strict about his studies.

Hikaru's face was illuminated white. He was smiling. It was a quiet smile, as if he had gently lifted the corners of his mouth. His appearance seemed almost mystical, and I held my breath quietly.

 

"Let's run away," Hikaru said, holding out his hand.

 

I think there's probably a right word to say in a situation like this, and saying that word would be the best thing for both him and me. But I didn't know that word.

 

"It's August. And you're eighteen, right? It's perfect for running away."

 

So all I could do was take his hand.

Sei Shōnagon said that summer is night, but I think summer is morning.

I love the morning hours of summer. The air, slightly heated, burns my skin, and the scent of fresh greenery rushes straight into my nostrils. The white light that pours down on the entire outdoor space feels cool somehow, even though the temperature is hot. It's always this air that I miss when August ends and autumn arrives.

Skipping the opening ceremony, I grabbed Hikaru's shoulder as he pedaled his bicycle, watching the scenery drift by.

 

"This is my first time riding a bike with someone."

"You don't have any friends, huh?"

"That's rude. I have a few."

"Just Misaki-chan, right? Who else?"

 

I felt like I was experiencing the expression "cutting through the wind" anew. The bicycle that a tall guy was pedaling seemed to have a different horsepower than ordinary people, and it was going at a speed that didn't seem possible for a mamachari (a slang term literally means "mom's bike"). The lukewarm air touched my nose, and I sneezed. "That's gross," he snapped, so I gave his back a light punch.

We used a bicycle that was left unlocked at the edge of the bicycle parking lot without permission. Hikaru and I both commuted to school by train, and we didn't want to cause trouble by using someone else's bicycle without permission.

The bicycle, which hadn't been used by anyone for a long time, wasn't very comfortable to ride.

Following his advice that we would stand out in our uniforms, we first stopped at a clothing store and bought a complete set of clothes.

 

"Sorry for making you pay. I'll pay it back later."

"Don't worry about it, I'm the one who dragged you with me after all."

 

Hikaru paid for me since I only had enough money for a juice. Apparently, he had taken a credit card from his mother's wallet.

Besides the wallet, Hikaru was also dressed neatly today. His hair was styled, his clothes were simple, and he had that "clean" look that girls talk about. I guessed that he had left the house this morning in a reasonably calm manner.

We got on our bikes again and continued west. Buildings gradually decreased, and the greenery of trees increased.

We didn't know our destination. In fact, a runaway doesn't need a destination.

 

"What kind of novels do you like, Rin?" Hikaru asked loudly.

"I think I've told you many times," I replied, also raising my voice more than usual.

"I want to hear it again."

"Dark boy-meets-girl stories. It's even better if they involve death, crime, or something gloomy."

 

I had told him this many times since we started chatting on LINE. I remembered clearly how angry I felt when he said I had bad taste, but at the same time, I was happy because it felt like a compliment. For a person with gloomy tastes, "bad taste" can sometimes be classified as a compliment.

Why is he asking me that now?

 

"What else?"

"Stories that start and end without anyone knowing."

"What else?"

"Those with summer as the setting."

 

As I answered, I realized his intention. I felt a little resentful and my voice volume lowered.

 

"A summer escape," I blurted out, almost defeated.

 

I could somehow tell that Hikaru was smirking.

That's right, the situation I'm in now is just like the stories I love.

Hikaru, a boy who killed someone. And Rin, a girl who has a strange relationship with Hikaru. I had written a novel with a combination like this in the past.

However, there's one crucial difference from novels, and that's that "I'm not Hikaru's accomplice."

"Let's run away," Hikaru said. It wasn't "Since we're running away, just follow me." In the latter case, I am an accomplice, but in the former case, I am a mere girl who got caught up in it.

I'm neither Hikaru's accomplice nor anything else, I'm just a girl who got caught up in it. I'm not Kaito.

 

I understand why Hikaru wants to run away. I can kind of imagine who would chase him: the police, Hikaru's relatives, teachers, and so on. —What am I running away from, then?

Hikaru called it a runaway. It's a youthful escape story, like the ones I've seen countless times in movies and novels.

 

"Does Hikaru want something from me?"

 

In novels and movies, this escape would probably be depicted as an opaque, adolescent, yet somehow exhilarating tale of a summer between a boy who has committed a crime and a girl who, for some reason, accompanies him.

 

They would be alone together, sometimes clashing, and running away from "the enemy." Gradually, the boy develops special feelings for the girl, but at the end of the story, the "real reason" why the girl accompanied him on his escape would be revealed—I could imagine such a template.

 

But reality isn't that wonderful. I'm only here because I was invited by Hikaru, and I don't have any "real reason." Even when he says, "Let's run away," I have no reason to run because I don't have any "enemies."

We're just people who have similar interests, more than acquaintances but less than lovers, though a bit different from friends. That's us. I think it perfectly reasonable to assume that the reason he took the trouble to bring me along was because he wanted something from me. Of course, it's not impossible to think that he just wanted to play out a novel, but neither Hikaru nor I are that childish.

What does he want from me? For example, one thing that came to mind―to help dispose of the body.

 

"I don't need anything," Hikaru said casually.

"Huh? ... So you just wanted to play getaway?"

"That's not it either."

 

As we reached a downhill slope, Hikaru stopped pedaling. The bike accelerated according to the laws of nature.

 

"You'll find out the reason later anyway, so let's talk about something else now."

"...But there are so many questions I'd like to ask."

 

My brain is full of questions. Why did he kill his mother? Even if there were many reasons and conflicts, what was the final trigger that led him to commit murder? How did he kill her? What does he plan to do from now on? — I could go on and on.

In the end, I didn't ask anything. Those questions weren't meant to blame or comfort Hikaru. They were born out of my petty curiosity and suspicion, and I hesitated to provoke his nerves for such self-satisfaction.

Murder. It's something that high school students who live peaceful lives are unfamiliar with.

The boy who said he killed his mother looked no different than usual. Can people who have committed murder look so composed? When I first met him this morning, I did feel that he looked a little worn out, but his words and actions since then have been no different from when he was playing games at my house or complaining about my novels. I think he must have had his own struggles and determination, but even so, he's so casual about it.

It reminded me of a case I saw on the news two years ago.

A girl who had been abused by her mother for a long time had killed her mother. Her sister's testimony reported that "the girl seemed calm throughout the incident,"' but in Hikaru's case, the phrase "calm" does not even begin to cover it. He was just like his usual self. It's as if he considered killing his mother and eating breakfast to be on the same level. Even after killing his mother, he seemed to remain within the framework of everyday life.

Well, there are probably things I don't understand because I've never killed anyone. Thinking so, I stared intently at my hand resting on Hikaru's waist.

I knew that something terrible had happened. Murder isn't something that should happen very often.

Even so, it's true that I'm excited about this extraordinary event that has come along just before the start of a dreary second semester.

The bicycle continued towards the cumulus clouds at the end of the country road. Gazing at the boundary between the blue sky and the clouds, I muttered to myself, "It's like a movie."

 

Well...

Honestly, I think I shouldn't be looking for a narrative in reality. Just because I like novels about juvenile crime stories and youthful escapes doesn't mean that when I think about doing the same thing in real life, I'm not concerned about the danger and feasibility more than the thrill. So, if I were asked if I wanted to experience it myself, I would definitely hesitate. I can tell the difference between fiction and reality.

That's why I was thinking, maybe I should enjoy the thrill of the escape to a certain extent and then gently suggest that we turn ourselves in. I don't know if that's cowardly or brave.

However, my naive thoughts were soon shattered.

He hadn't taken me along with such a casual attitude as I thought.

 

The bike kept moving forward, but the clouds were still far away. The wind blowing on my cheeks was still lukewarm. The sunlight was getting stronger and sweat was beading on Hikaru's neck.

 

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[WN] God Slumbers : Volume 4 Chapter 2 Part 3

Volume 4

Chapter 2 Part 3

Days Continue, Like a Buried Fire 3

Translator : PolterGlast

The day after the Hyakki Yagyo, despite the casualties among the mobilized guardian candidates, everyday life maintained its calm on the surface.

 

Not to mention the garrison. Even for the protectors and guardians with a low mortality rate, defiled beasts remained a threat. The loss of an unfamiliar schoolmate did not seem to affect the ongoing daily routine.

 

With a brief condolences, the dead were simply left behind in the past. Everyone knew, even without saying it, that it was the duty of the living to give priority to daily life.

 

However, the shadow of the Hyakki Yagyo could not be wiped away, and the undeniable reality creaked in various parts of everyday life.

 

The tranquil afternoons in the central building had become a thing of the past. Yotsurugi Akira and Rindō Saki found themselves facing such a reality.

 

"This is my last uniform..."

"You don't have any spares?"

"I received three uniforms when I was promoted to protector.

Since it's not easy to sew them, they've been worn out like this."

 

It was torn open from the shoulder, and countless small tears were scattered everywhere.

...Somehow. It was as if being forced, or rather, it was barely hanging on to the body.

 

Witnessing the fate of the uniform that had survived the fierce battle, Saki couldn't help but hold her head.

Since her own uniform was almost the same, she had nothing to say.

 

In her case, she had a Tenryō Academy uniform, and she had plenty of spares prepared. The fact that she hadn't ended up in the same situation was simply because her original position was different.

 

The cost of temporarily replacing Akira's uniform with a similar garrison uniform. The disastrous situation, where repairs couldn't keep up, was the result of running out of spare uniforms.

 

—Or rather, it was Akira's combat record that was abnormal.

Starting with the battle against the Vansuir, and the first battle against the Nurarihyon in Karen. In the Central Capital, he had been involved in everything from the extermination of the Jorōgumo to the end of the Hyakki Yagyo by the divine pillar, Ravana.

 

Even if one were to consider his promotion as a protector, it was only about three months. Compared to ordinary guardians, the quality and quantity of his battles were on an abnormally extraordinary scale.

One uniform for each battle. Considering that, it was a reasonable outcome.

 

"Major battles are one thing, but you weren't unscathed during your daily missions either. How did you deal with it?"

"...We trainee soldiers have weak vertical connections, but our horizontal ones are surprisingly strong.

The people that Kansuke has a connection with are willing to repair our uniforms for a low price."

 

Trainee soldiers are basically commoners' children gathered from the countryside. Without connections and wealth, they rely on each other who are in the same circumstances.

 

The many trades that these boys often apprenticed into were far more varied than one might imagine. Kansuke, who was an apprentice at a cloth merchant, had many acquaintances in a similar line of work.

 

"There should be sewing workshops everywhere, right?"

"Even in Karen, specializing in Western dressmaking means dealing with nobles, so the threshold is too high.

Besides, the uniforms are sturdy. I heard them complain that even the tailor's needles and sewing machines were about to break."

"Of course, they're designed to withstand normal combat and miasma to some extent.

But isn't this too sloppy? It seems like a quick fix."

 

Saki casually extended her fingertips toward Akira, who was in a sorry state. She traced the large tear in the shoulder seam.

—She felt the strong thread on her fingertips.

 

"It's a pretty stiff thread. Is it cheap?"

"—The shop that Akira-san asked probably doesn't have experience handling protector's uniforms."

"Tsuguho-sama!"

 

They might be sturdy, but they are not flexible, making them vulnerable.

Saki's honest opinion, which she had inadvertently uttered, was met with a voice from behind her.

 

Straightening their backs to the familiar voice, Saki and Akira turned to see Kihōin Tsuguho and her attendant.

 

"It's a shop I've been dealing with since I was a trainee.

And the shopkeeper' has great skills, even if it's cheap."

"A protector's uniform is not just clothing.

Although it may seem like the same fabric to the touch, the materials are different."

 

Akira looked dissatisfied with the harsh criticism of the shop he had relied on. Tsuguho responded that she she didn't doubt that part, and took a glance at the state of the uniform

 

"Isn't it the sturdier, the better?"

"Only if it is combat, sure. However, there are too many differences in terms of magnitude and limits.

Perhaps the thread is the strongest one that can be obtained in the market.

The tailor probably did their best with Akira's request."

 

It would be difficult to notice this flaw because they look and feel the same. The treatment applied to a protector's uniform is like tying an iron plate with a rough rope.

 

The armor with iron plates tied to it is impervious to blades and arrows, and can easily survive a single battle.

—But what would happen if it were to be used twice or thrice?

 

The extreme difference in strength would tilt the wear and tear in one direction. Even if the strength was sufficient, the durability of the object would come to an abrupt end as a result.

 

"I was aware of the number of battles Akira-san has been participating in, but I guess I underestimated it.

As a temporary measure, here's a new uniform."

"...Thank you. Umm, about the cost..."

 

Akira was speechless as a familiar-looking uniform was handed to him. Uniforms are initially provided, but their maintenance is the individual's responsibility. Normally, reissues are not granted unless there is a very good reason.

 

"Please rest assured. Akira-san's expenses will be covered entirely by the Kuhoin family."

 

Akira's slight worry melted away at Tsuguho's smile. Saki peered at the uniform he was receiving with relief.

 

"I see that you still don't have uniforms from Tenryo Gakuin.

—Would you like me to send you one from my family?"

"I heard that the orders for next year are already full, so even if we started sewing now, it wouldn't be finished in time."

 

Tsuguho shook her head with a wry smile at the suggestion.

 

Although the design of the Tenryō Academy uniform was similar, the materials used were not the same as those used for regular clothes. If what Tsuguho said was true, it would be much easier to prepare a protector uniform instead.

 

If she were referring only to the time and effort required, then Saki's assumption was correct. However, the Tenryō Academy uniform was difficult to obtain due to another reason.

 

Steam-powered sewing machines, which enabled the standardized quality required for uniforms, and the skilled workers who could operate them were very few in number, partly due to the low number of orders.

 

Currently, the production of Tenryō Academy uniforms is full until next year's orders. It was not due to a lack of money, but a severe shortage of equipment and technology.

 

"No, it's not that."

Saki chuckled in response to this point of view.

She gave a proud smile as if she had taken a step ahead as a woman.

"My brother, Rindou Yuunosuke's uniform is just sitting there in the back of the dresser.

It might need some adjustment, but it should be just right for Akira-kun."

"Oh, a used one? I didn't expect that."

 

Tsuguho laughed involuntarily at being pointed out that it was about used clothing.

 

The Kihōin family, which is part of the Three Imperial Families and Four Sovereigns, does not have the mindset of passing used things down to others. The idea of a commoner reusing things was far from Tsuguho's mind.

 

"Is that okay, Akira-kun?

My brother is a little strict, so it always ends up looking worn."

"I don't mind. Sorry, I have to trouble you."

 

Even though Akira had started receiving a monthly salary as a protector, his wallet remained empty due to his continuous expenses. He breathed a sigh of relief at the kind offer.

 

"Excuse me for interrupting your conversation.

—She has arrived."

 

The peaceful conversation, a rare occurrence, was abruptly ended by Tsuguho's attendant, Niikawa Natsu. The tension she couldn't hide was evident in her tone.

 

If the attendant of Tsuguho Kihōin was so reverent, then the visitor must be one of the few in the academy. As she was respectfully welcomed in, a girl stepped quietly into the conference room.

 

Her family background was unparalleled. The sight of her standing beside Tsuguho was praised as two lilies in the Tenryō Academy.

 

"Thank you for giving me this opportunity. —Tsuguho Kihōin-sama."

"No, it was nothing.

—Would you like us to leave?"

"No, it's okay. By all means, please join us."

 

While the atmosphere remained calm, the underlying tone of their words was almost a provocation. After a formal exchange, the girl with nostalgic recollections turned to Akira.

 

In the past, when he was in Kokuten Province, there was only one place besides his grandmother's where he could feel at ease. A part of the Giōin mansion in Nanatsuo.

 

Not even a single noise could reach him, let alone Ugetsu Tenzan

—A peaceful day, left to flow.

 

Three years. It wasn't a short period, but for Akira and the others who were growing up, there was an even greater gap between them. The girl, one year older, had the same gentle features as before but also possessed an incomparable elegance.

 

"It's been a  while, Shizumi-sama."

"……Yes. I'm glad you're safe, Akira-san."

 

Shizumi Giōin, who had once been engaged to Akira, bowed her head, leaving a faint sound of her clothes rustling.

 

They sat across from each other at a desk in the center of the conference room. The atmosphere in the room was more akin to tension.

 

For a while, neither Akira nor Shizumi could formulate any words, and a silence fell between them. They were both aware.

 

—It's scary.

If they put their feelings into words, they felt like something would break, and they wouldn't be able to take it back.

 

Still, Shizumi could not waste this time that she had finally managed to connect with him.

With a short, forceful exhale, she resolutely raised her eyes.

 

"Let's start with the practical matters first.

—Is that alright with you, Akira-san?"

"Yes, please."

 

With Akira's agreement, one of Shizumi's attendants, who was standing behind her, stepped forward. Whether or not anyone other than Tsuguho and Saki, who were acquaintances, realized that this person was the heir of the Dōgyō family, one of the Eight Families, was unknown.

 

Sonomi then opened her mouth.

 

"The main topic is the measures related to the aftermath of the Hyakki Yagyo.

Given the current situation where we cannot predict the movements of the other Four Sovereigns, we propose that the Giōin and Kihōin families join forces."

"—We need to fill the gaps we exposed during the Hyakki Yagyo before the Central Capital nobility can take advantage of it."

 

Shizumi continued, following Sonomi's words.

That matter would also be beneficial to the Kihōin family. Without a moment's hesitation, Tsuguho nodded in agreement.

 

"As expected, the merits and demerits be discussed at the Kannamesai Festival, huh?"

"Yes. Aya-sama of the Utanomiya hinted at the schedule in a casual conversation. If we calculate backwards, it seems that it will be summarized during the middle of the Kannamesai Festival, in the presence of the Three Imperial Families.

—It seems that the current Utanomiya is quite flexible in their approach."

"I don't know her personally, but she seems to have an unusual temperament."

 

Flexibility also means change.

However, fundamentally, the Three Imperial Families have a tendency to dislike change. Tsuguho, who knew this temperament well, was surprised by Shizumi's comment.

 

The role of the Three Imperial Families and Four Sovereigns, half-god and half-human, is to act as a wedge to hold together the Age of the Gods (a substitute for the Kanna-no-Mikura). The Age of the Gods is the past, and in extreme terms, it is an existence that goes against the modern age, which is changing towards the future.

 

It is rare to see the Three Imperial Families welcome changes. The only other person Tsuguho knew who was fond of new things was her mother, Kihōin Shion.

 

"I had hoped she would understand my concerns, but her refusal to give any details, major and minor, is troubling.

Although she is not much older than us, she must have something hidden."

"……Do you think she might make some demands of the Four Sovereigns?"

"No. Her attention was not directed towards the Four Sovereigns in particular.

Rather, she was quite curious about which individuals would be chosen to represent the various provinces in the upcoming Tenran Tournament."

 

If one were to listen only to the surface, she would seem to be a noble who simply enjoys martial arts competitions.

However, the timing is too convenient.

 

Tsuguho could not see what she was aiming for with every word she said. How relieved Tsuguho would be if she was simply thinking nothing and was merely interested.

 

"……We, the Kihōin family, are also aware that the existence of Kanna-no-Mikura has been exposed."

"They contacted me when I went to Mount Shōrō, so it's a foregone conclusion."

 

Tsuguho, who had been informed beforehand, and Shizumi nodded without surprise at Akira's testimony.

Otherwise, the overlapping circumstances that could not be explained would not make sense.

 

"She may be interested in Kanna-no-Mikura, but you don't need to worry about that.

The Three Imperial Families, or rather, Her Eminence Takamikura, have declared that they will not interfere with Kanna-no-Mikura.

So, instead, we need to quickly determine how far the other party's actions would be influencing us."

 

Shizumi expressed her greatest concern about this matter.

 

To obtain maximum output from the Five Elemental Barrier, it is necessary to perform Arawakamioroshi at the Cornerstone Mountains corresponding to the Three Imperial Families and the Four Sovereigns.

Shizumi and Tsuguho were convinced that even though three of the Four Sovereigns were enrolled at Tenryo Academy in the Central Capital, their entry to the Cornerstone Mountains had been intentionally delayed.

 

Just because things went well doesn't mean there are no complaints. Since they don't know the extent to which the other party's decisions were involved, there's a possibility that unnecessary damage would be caused as a result.

 

In particular, both the Kihōin and Giōin families have suffered not only numerous casualties but also failures. Making up for these losses was something they urgently needed to do.

 

"The Kihōin family had their fire divine spirit stolen and the Kanoe Shrine, their rear base, fell."

"The Giōin family arrived in the capital several hours later.

—It was confirmed that Ravana had invaded through Chinowa, perhaps exploiting a gap in the delay in response. Furthermore, the barrier on our Cornerstone Mountain has been breached, allowing the invasion of Kankyō Dōji ."

 

After listing the circumstances, everyone sitting there let out a weary sigh.

Compared to the Hariin and Jinrōin families, their failures were clearly lopsided.

 

It was clear that a higher-ranking decision had intervened in the matter.

 

"It would be so much easier if we could just pursue the responsibility of the Imperial Families."

"……It would be difficult. Even if we were able to prove it, we would have to face the possibility of having our arguments dismissed."

"I suppose so."

 

Tsuguho offered consolation to Shizumi's grumbling complaint.

Although the damage was widespread, it was also true that the enemy offensive was drastically thwarted.

 

Although the Kanoe Shrine had fallen, the only other family stationed at the Cornerstone Mountains at that time was Jinrōin Kagura. The backlash from the collapse of the spiritual path of Soukoku and was almost entirely absorbed by Shuka before even reaching Tsukishiro.

 

On the other hand, on the Giōin family's side, Ravana was forced to disperse her forces. Even if it was the largest-scale Hyakki Yagyo, dividing it into five parts would have reduced it to a scale that even inexperienced guardians could handle.

 

Shizumi, who arrived late, did not have enough time to perform the Arawakamioroshi, and as a result, Akira was able to perform the Arawakamioroshi first. Even if the Imperial Families admitted responsibility, it would be difficult to complain openly, since both Tsuguho and Shizumi benefitted from it.

 

"On the contrary, the Imperial Families is in a position where they can't openly claim any achievements."

Akira interjected from beside Tsuguho, who was at a loss as to what to do.

"In other words, unless someone brings it up, our failures won't be pursued.

Unless something extraordinary happens, this matter will probably be swept under the rug."

"I hope so, but the parties that might pursue this matter are all of the nobles participating in the Three Imperial Families' audience.

If someone were to carelessly demand responsibility, we would have to respond accordingly."

 

Tsuguho's fears were justified. After fully understanding the situation, Akira turned his gaze to the girl sitting next to him.

 

"It doesn't matter if they do.

Since I, who is kept secret under oral tradition, was at the core of the plan, the Imperial Families is bound to do everything in their power to silence any nobles who interfere."

"……I see. So, if things go as planned, the focus will inevitably be on you, Akira-kun.

I mistakenly thought that everything would calm down after we got past the previous unveiling."

 

Saki voiced her agreement with Akira's statement. She had mistakenly believed that it would be impossible to continue hiding Akira's talent.

 

"There seems to be no problem. Then, next,

...about the treatment of Ugetsu."

 

Sonomi hesitated before uttering the name.

—At that moment, everyone seemed to hear the sound of the air freezing.

 

"I know you don't want to hear it now, but we decided that the disposal of them should be left to you, Akira-san. We are prepared to respond to any questions you may have about the current situation as best we can.

If you need some time to think, then..."

"—No, that's fine."

 

Interrupting Shizumi, who was about to continue, Akira squeezed out the words.

He had been thinking about it for a long time.

 

His hatred and expectations had long since dried up.

He had even become too lazy to think about what he wanted to do with them.

 

Just like the uniform he wore.

It was worn out and on the verge of becoming rags, clinging to Akira's past like a parasite.

 

Nevertheless, he needed to make a decision.

Expressing his gratitude for being given this opportunity, Akira uttered the resolution he had made in his childhood when he was banished.

 

"I..."

 

♢

 

"—Akira-san"

"Yes"

 

The short time that felt so long, filled with emotions, was finally coming to an end. Just as Akira was about to stand up and take his leave, a nostalgic voice called out to him, stopping him in his tracks. In the direction of the gaze that held him back, there was Shizumi's hesitant smile.

 

"Do you mind staying with me for a little longer?"

"――――I don't mind."

 

Akira was currently affiliated with Shumon Province. Out of consideration, he glanced at Tsuguho, but the smiling girl simply nodded in agreement.

 

Following Akira's lead, Shizumi sat down as well.

 

"I don't mean to make a big deal out of it.

—But I really want to hear about what Akira-san has seen and done over the past three years."

"……It's just trivial, everyday stories though."

"Yes, I know. But for some reason, I desperately want to know every bit of it."

 

It was really nothing but three years of trivial things.

He was tormented and frustrated. ―When he fled, he was saved by a grandma.

Dawdled and laughed with his fellow trainee soldiers.

 

He was just a helpless little boy, swept away by reality.

—But those were irreplaceable, golden days.

 

Shizumi listened happily, and Akira wove stories about whatever he had experienced in the past, exaggerating them a little.

—Eventually, as the two of them became engrossed in their conversation, Tsuguho and the others quietly left the room.

 

In that time, when nostalgia overlooked them, the endless topics made even the approaching end seem too much to bear.

 

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