Chapter 4

When they were little, Kisara often protected Rentaro, who was bullied a lot by her older brothers at the Tendo house, but he didn’t like how she’d treated him as a servant ever since then. Even though he’d gotten strong enough to protect her now… “Oh? Ah well, let’s get back to the topic at hand,” said Sumire. “Do you know the distinguishing trait of a jumping spider?” “Its coloring, isn’t it?” said Rentaro. “And it’s famous for jumping to catch its prey.” Sumire pulled out her own Tastee Wheat from the microwave and suddenly thrust a spoonful into her mouth. Eww! Rentaro thought as he watched her. “That’s right,” she said. “You know, of course, that even if it became human size, the jumping spider, which uses its powerful jump to capture prey, would not be able to maintain the jumping distance of ten times its body size, right?” “Yeah—uh, wait, really?” “Hey now, get yourself together,” said Sumire. “They say that if a flea were human size, it would be able to jump as high as the Tokyo Tower, but if a flea were actually to become that big, never mind its jumping ability—it wouldn’t even be able to support its own body weight with those legs, and it wouldn’t be able to get enough oxygen through cutaneous respiration. It’s the same thing. Based on the law of gravity and the principle of scale, it’s pretty obvious that such a creature should not exist. But the Gastrea virus turns that idea on its head.” The woman in the white lab coat stopped talking for a moment and smiled enigmatically. Rentaro remained silent, urging her to go on. This wasn’t entomology anymore, it was physics. There was no place for the layman Rentaro to interrupt. “When a Gastrea transforms, the hardness of its exoskeleton and its body functions increase to match its size. That’s why the larger the Gastrea, the harder and stronger it is. The Gastrea virus, which redesigns living organisms, is a threat. In principle, it is very similar to the reverse transcription of a retrovirus, but it doesn’t just replicate copies of itself—after analyzing its host’s DNA, it reconstructs it into its most suitable form. “The problem is the speed at which this occurs. The corrosion speed of a Gastrea virus overwriting DNA is outside of the standard of all the living organisms on the Earth. Dawkins would probably piss his pants. If you told me that that it’s not from this planet, I’d believe you. “And once its corrosion exceeds fifty percent inside the host’s body, the host is no longer able to maintain human form, and goes through the process of shape collapse, resulting in the host becoming a Gastrea. Through that process, some individuals gain original abilities that should not exist. Get it? It’s an evolutionary leap through mutation.” Before Rentaro knew it, Sumire’s plate was empty. What in the world is wrong with her sense of taste? “That was a long tangent, but the missing source could possess some sort of new ability, you know,” she said. “Since we haven’t been able to find it, could it be some kind of optical camouflage?” Rentaro suggested. “It could be a simpler mimicry camouflage, like a chameleon. If it really had the ability to distort light, Tokyo Area could be annihilated by a Pandemic tomorrow, even.” “Don’t worry. Enju and I, as Initiator and Promoter, exist to prevent that from happening.” “Enju, huh?” “What is it?” “I find the Cursed Children especially creepy. Especially once I found out about their origins. Ten years ago, at almost exactly the same time the Gastrea virus first appeared in the world, children in the womb with Gastrea-controlling factors were born, as if to oppose them. At first, a big deal was made of them being a gift from God to control the Gastrea, but in the end, that was completely wrong.” Sumire looked like she was dreaming as she squinted in the air and let her gaze wander. “The only way for an ordinary person to contract the Gastrea virus and become a monster is through the blood. Aerosol, or airborne infection, is not believed to occur. There were also many experiments that confirmed that infection did not occur orally or through sexual intercourse. “However, when the virus entered orally, it did not die immediately, and if it happened to enter a pregnant woman’s mouth, then the child in her womb stored up the virus before it was born. “The Cursed Children had red eyes when they were born, but appeared normal otherwise. In other words, even though they were infected with the Gastrea virus, the progress of the disease was extremely slow. If we think about the fact that normal people who are infected with a large amount of Gastrea virus at once change shape almost immediately, the fact that these girls’ bodies don’t change shape for years is miraculous. It is extremely interesting. See? I explained it without using a lot of technical jargon. Even an idiot like you can understand the gist of it, right?” “Yeah, I wish you’d always talk like that…,” said Rentaro. She’d stuck in plenty of nasty asides, but he was able to understand the general concept, thanks to her. Mimicry camouflage, huh? No matter what you might say about her, she was pretty amazing. “Well, I’ll be going then, Doc.” Sumire smiled as she gave a light wave to see him off. “Come again, FBI Agent Starling.” “So we’re gender-bending now, Dr. Lecter?” “Rentaro, you are late!” When he returned to his dear apartment, the window of the second-floor bathroom suddenly opened, and out with the bath steam came Enju, leaning her upper body out of the frame. He was glad that she was welcoming him with her face wreathed with a smile, waving her hands, but he couldn’t condone her doing so while she was obviously naked and in the middle of taking a bath. “Hey, idiot, what if someone’s looking?” he shouted back to her. “Close the window.” “Don’t worry. My body belongs only to you!” “Will you please try to understand what I’m saying? I’m saying it’s embarrassing for me!” Rentaro ran up the stairs and thrust his key into the door of the corner room on the second floor. He flew into his eight-tatami, one-room home, and when he got to the changing room, he could hear the sound of the shower and see the silhouette of Enju’s slender body. It was a modest bodyline, but thin and supple and very beautiful. He was flustered for a moment, but when he noticed the piece of paper that said “You can peek if you want” in Enju’s messy handwriting taped to the bathroom door, his strength left him all at once and he sank to the floor. He could hear a voice from the bath. “You are late. Were you doing something naughty with Kisara?” Rentaro plunked down and crossed his arms. “Shut up. She beat me up and told me to get to work.” Enju laughed. “She would. That’s what I thought happened, as well.” “You’re an evil freeloader.” “Anyway, is dinner ready yet? My stomach feels like it’s caving in.” Okay, okay, he thought as he picked up the clothes Enju had shed with abandon and put them in the laundry hamper with his own dirty clothes, then took them to the coin laundry on the first floor. There didn’t seem to be anyone else around, so he decided to use the machine that worked the best, the newest one in the back. Rentaro thought that Enju wouldn’t want her clothes to be washed with his, but unexpectedly she had said, “Imagining you getting excited about wearing clothes that were washed with my underwear is fun,” and said it was fine. They were being washed with detergent, so there was nothing to get excited about, but it still meant he could wash them all in one load, so he let her believe what she wanted. Thinking there was no way anyone would steal their clothes, he went back to the room and opened the fridge. He lined up the ingredients they had, including the bean sprouts they had bought, and thought for a moment. Today, he would make egg-topped rice out of the eggs, braised burdock and carrot out of the burdock root and slightly old carrot, and fry the bean sprouts with the bit of cabbage that was left over. Once he figured out what to make, he knew the rest of the work would go quickly. He put a pink apron on over his school uniform and started cooking at lightning speed. Before he knew it, he was humming merrily away as he manipulated his long cooking chopsticks. There was one time when Enju pestered him into letting her cook, but the result tasted so bad that he’d wanted to spit it out, so he had firmly sworn that he would never let her in the kitchen again. Sumire’s cooking not only tasted bad, but she also used unknown ingredients that gave it an unearthly feel. When Kisara cooked, the kitchen went up in flames. Why did all the women around him completely lack cooking abilities? Just once, he wanted to meet a woman who could make a miso soup that tasted better than his. With those thoughts floating around in his mind, the sauce of the last dish, the braised burdock and carrot, turned golden. He turned off the heat, removed his apron, and looked at the clock. It was eight p.m. As he returned from getting the clothes downstairs, Enju had just finished her long bath. When she saw the kitchen, she said, “Ooh!” and jumped, reacting like the kid she was. “Wait, don’t eat yet,” said Rentaro. Enju turned to look at him like she was about to bite. “Why can’t I? When I came home, I gargled and washed my hands!” “That’s not it.” “I took the neighborhood circular next door like I was supposed to, and I didn’t doodle on it like last time.” “I said, that’s not it.” “I didn’t watch more than three hours of TV today!” “That’s not it, either.” “I’m not on trash duty today, am I?” “That’s not it, Enju. Please, just notice!” The small head couldn’t take it any longer and began to roar. “Just give me my food! Are you trying to starve me to death?!” Enju seemed to notice something at that point, and her face turned bright red as she looked at him with upturned eyes. “Don’t tell me you were thinking that an empty stomach would exacerbate my lust, and that this was a roundabout way to tell me you desired to have an ultimate fight with me?” Rentaro put both hands on Enju’s shoulders. “Just put on your underwear. We can start from there.” “Thanks for the food,” said Rentaro as he put his chopsticks down and bowed. “Thanks for the food!” said Enju, imitating him and giving thanks. “The food you cook is delicious, Rentaro. How is it that you can make such delicious food from such plain ingredients? You are like a magician.” Enju, who had changed into casual clothes, looked at him with her face bright. Rentaro thought with a wry smile that she was overreacting. But it didn’t feel bad to be praised. “Well, yes, being imaginative and creative is important in every endeavor, Watson.” “Who’s that? More importantly, will I be able to learn how to cook like you soon?” “Uh, well, um, yeah…I’m sure you’ll be able to…eventually,” Rentaro answered, not meeting her eyes. “Everyone has their own strengths.” “You said too much.” Rentaro poked her head gently, and she laughed with a “Tee-hee” and stuck out her tongue. That was when Rentaro noticed a small cardboard parcel next to Enju. “Enju… What’s that under your arm?” “Oh, it’s a new laptop computer! It just arrived.” “How much was it…?” “I found a cheap place, so the newest model was only 180,000 yen.” “O-o-one hundred and eighty thousand…” Rentaro got dizzy and had to prop himself up with his hands. Because Enju was also an employee of the Tendo Civil Security Agency, she received a salary that was way too much for a child’s allowance. To Rentaro, who was living hand to mouth, Enju cheekily buying expensive things and rubbing them in his face gave him stomachaches. Seeing the greedy expression on Rentaro’s face seemed to make Enju realize something, and a smirk unbecoming of a child crossed her face. “I will lend money to you any time you wish.” “Oh, you little devil. It’s your fault that I…” One time in their poverty, right before they were about to be evicted from their apartment, he went crying to Enju and borrowed money to pay the rent they were defaulting on. However, the next day, Enju spread the story after dramatizing it to make it more amusing. Because of that, the people around him gave Rentaro the blunt nickname of “Lolita-complex pervo living off of a ten-year-old girl” (which spread to residents of the apartment, as well). After that, he made do with his own salary even if it killed him. As he carried the dirty dishes to the sink, he glanced at the clock and remembered. From the dresser drawer, he took out a needle-less pressure syringe and flicked it open with his nail. “Enju, it’s time for your shot.” “Drat, is it that time already?” she said. He urged her to put her arm out. Enju hated shots, but she grudgingly stuck out her arm, her body stiff and eyes squeezed shut. Rentaro pressed the piston with a bitter smile. The girl’s frail body gave a twitch. The soft arm, thin as a small branch, sucked up the transparent blue liquid. Once a day, it was the duty of all Initiators to get a shot of corrosion-inhibiting medication. If she neglected to do so, the corrosion percentage in her body would increase, and in the end, she would turn into a Gastrea. The girls were born under special circumstances. Most mothers who gave birth to red-eyed children who were Gastrea factors went half-mad. For a time, there were a slew of infanticides where women would give birth to their children by a river and drown their babies in the water. Kids playing by the river could see the corpses of babies floating down the river. Rentaro also saw one once in the past, and it gave him a feeling of emptiness that was hard for him to describe as a child. Before he knew it, Rentaro was looking intently at Enju’s face, eyes closed tightly, bearing the pain of the shot. Laughing, crying, angry Enju. It had taken a whole year for her to show him this much emotion. He thought about how she was when they were first introduced a year ago, and his heart was pained. When he first met her through the mediation of the International Initiator Supervision Organization, or IISO, he’d been taken aback by her hostility and distrust of people, as well as her wild eyes. Rentaro had never felt such obstinate rejection in his life. But now, Rentaro loved her smiles and even how she sometimes seemed too mature for her age. Of course, he loved her as a much-younger sister—or even, if he were bragging, as his own daughter. “All done, Enju,” he said gently. The girl’s wet eyes opened slowly, and her rosy, glossy lips opened slowly as if cramped. For some reason, Rentaro felt guilty and looked down in a hurry. “What’s wrong, Rentaro?” she asked. “I-it’s nothing!” He would never say it out loud, but Enju had grown very pretty recently. If Kisara were a beauty with a dark side, then Enju was her complete opposite. “All right. We’re done with our work for the day. We’re done with dinner. Now that we’re full, there’s only one thing left to do.” Enju looked embarrassed for a second and looked downward, spreading her arms and smiling as if she would accept anything that was done to her. “Yup, good night.” Rentaro pulled the string of the light twice, pulled the blanket over himself, and lay down. After a while, he suffered a blow to the crown of his head that made his skull ring. “Owwwww!” he groaned. “Why are you ignoring me?!” shouted Enju. “When a lady makes a demand, it is a gentleman’s duty to quietly go along with what she wants.” “Don’t be ridiculous. What lady are you talking about? You’re a ten-year-old child! Save the sleep talking for when you’re actually asleep!” “Then let me ask you this: What part of me is not a lady?” Enju stuck her chest out as far as she could. “Hah, first of all, a lady is modest and prudent,” said Rentaro. “And your chest is completely flat.” “What?!” She turned red as she balled up her fists, shaking. “Th-they will keep growing!” “Enju, it’s important for a person to know when to give up.” “It’s Kisara’s fault. She stole the part of my boobs that were still getting ready to grow!” “Kisara has no such weird, goblinlike ability. I can guarantee that from when we used to bathe together as kids.” When he said that, he was surprised at his own perverted statement. “Argh! I shouldn’t have bought a computer! I should’ve saved up to pay for breast implants in the future.” Rentaro didn’t like the idea of an elementary school girl thinking about breast implants. Enju pushed herself up. “However! There are unfortunate men like Rentaro in this world who are unable to love adult women. ‘Big brother, pwease give me a shot of love!’ That’s the kind of stuff you like, isn’t it? Sumire told me, you pervert.” His head started to hurt, and he pressed his temples. “Please, don’t tempt me with your hellish sorcery. Anyway, where do you keep learning all those words?” Enju puffed out her chest haughtily. “I learned them from my friend, Gookle.” “That person’s evil! How many times do I have to tell you not to hang around with Gookle?!” “Who cares? Let’s just get married. Let’s get married today! I will accept all of your perverted desires!” On top of making him out to have a Lolita complex, she’d decided that he had perverted desires, and thumped around repeatedly, jumping so that it echoed into the apartment below them. Their downstairs neighbor, woken up by the noise, started to bang angrily on the ceiling with a bamboo stick, and the situation became extremely confused. Rentaro held his head. If it weren’t for this, she’d be cute. Tilting his head to look at the clock, he sighed and wondered what time he would get to sleep tonight. Enju blushed as she turned her head sharply in his direction. “That’s enough. I will take off my clothes.” “Leave. Them. On!” 3 Shrinking away from the noisily chirping sparrows outside, Rentaro looked in the mirror at the face of a young man who looked like he didn’t want to do anything. There were circles under his half-closed, twitching eyes from lack of sleep, and more than an unfortunate face, it looked like the face of a villain. Fixing the collar on the black suit that was his uniform, he tied his necktie. For some reason, his neck felt itchy. I don’t want to go to school, he thought from the bottom of his heart. The TV had been left on and was showing the day’s horoscope. Taurus had the worst luck with money, as usual. To make matters worse, Taurus had bad health today, too. Hopefully the horoscope was wrong. Turning off the shrilly whistling kettle, he poured hot water into his cup of instant coffee and let himself be enveloped in the aromatic fragrance of morning, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. Just then, the door to the entrance opened with a violent force. “Rentaro, the landlady said she’d lend us a bike!” said Enju, who flew in, her spirits high despite the early hour. Yesterday, he had abandoned his bike near the scene of the incident, so even though it was regrettable, he probably would have been excused for being late. But now his excuse to rest longer was going away. He had a contract with the student council president and couldn’t skip school without a good reason. He finished off his coffee and took the remote to look for a better channel. Just as he was about to turn off the TV, a reporter shouted, “Look at this!” and Rentaro and Enju turned their attention to the screen without thinking. The young reporter gripped the microphone firmly in excitement, standing in front of the grand palace of Tokyo’s First District. Anyone would have immediately recognized the distinctive paved road and beautifully pruned trees. Just then, the camera cut to a girl dressed in white on a balcony. Wearing layer upon layer of pure white fabric as thin as Japanese paper, her head was covered with a veil of the same material, making it seem like a wedding dress. Her clothes looked like a deep covering of heavy snowfall. Her skin, and even the hair on her head, was white. “Lady Seitenshi…” His own voice shook as if his soul were leaving his body with the words. Ten years ago, Japan had split into five areas. She was the ruler of one of those: Tokyo Area. She was the third Seitenshi, and had been installed in the position after the death of the previous Seitenshi. With her otherworldly beauty and shrewdness that was not just for show, this girl had far more support than the first and second famously bold and heroic Seitenshi. “Rentaro, look.” Enju was pointing at the stern-faced seventy-year-old man standing next to the smiling girl. With his tall, dignified body dressed in formal Japanese hakama, from his build, he could have been part of the Secret Service. “Damn, it’s the old man, huh?” said Rentaro. Kikunojo Tendo, the Seitenshi’s aide, managed all of her support. Because Seitenshi was a hereditary position, in Tokyo Area, after they lost the war, that aide position became the political post with the greatest authority. That old man had made the Tendo family what it was. Not really paying attention to what the reporter was so excitedly saying, Rentaro muttered absentmindedly, “No one has ever implemented a government where there’s no ruling class, huh?” “Oh, really? By the way, won’t you be late?” “Hmm? Oh!” When he looked at the clock on the top right-hand corner of the screen, the time it displayed gave him a start. As an ordinary student and regular civil security agency employee, he had nothing to do with the government types, and he didn’t like the guys in positions of power, anyway. He turned off the TV and urged Enju outside. “Let’s go!” he said to her. She grabbed onto Rentaro’s waist, stuck her legs out from the luggage seat and shouted energetically. It was the pose she called the “Roman Holiday seat.” The bike the landlady lent them was in pretty bad shape. The brakes hadn’t been oiled, and let out an ear-piercing sound every time he used them, and the spokes were so rusted that pieces of oxidation fell off as he pedaled. He wondered how many years this antique had been left unused in the shed. But those things were soon forgotten once he started pedaling. As he strained to put strength into his feet on the pedals, he pushed comfortably through the fresh morning air. Enju gave a cheerful greeting to the students and men in business suits they occasionally passed. If he looked hard enough, he could see the Monoliths in the distance, brightly reflecting the sun’s rays. Underneath the trees lining the street that were sparkling with morning dew, the sunlight filtering through the trees changed shape and blinked like a kaleidoscope. He felt strange. Ten years ago, material civilization was at the brink of being destroyed due to the invasion of the Gastrea, and a vast number of people were killed or turned into monsters. At that time, the only expressions on people’s faces had been despair and loathing that had no outlet. It had only been ten years. Even so, it had been ten years. Rentaro closed his eyes and breathed the scent of spring deeply into his lungs. Hearing the bell of a departing streetcar in the distance, emotions welled up from the bottom of his heart. Just as Enju was clumsily shouting, “Rome! By all means, Rome” as Princess Ann, Enju’s school, Magata Elementary School, came into view. “All right,” she said. “I will now be zealous in my studies. We must part for a while, but don’t cry while I’m gone.” Enju made her parting farewell with her hand stretched out gallantly. Looking at Magata High School two buildings down, Rentaro sighed in exasperation. “C’mon, Enju. We’re only going to be separated for a few hours. Don’t you think that’s a little too dramatic?” “If I had my way, we would be together twenty-four hours a day. Rentaro, won’t you transfer to my class? I mean, you are not that intelligent, right? You could take the opportunity to start over from elementary school.” “You say the craziest things out of the blue. Be kind to my pride.” “Hmph,” she sulked. “Then be held back and wait for me for six years until I become a second-year in high school. That is my final compromise. Take it or leave it.” “Being a twenty-three-year-old high school student is wrong in a lot of ways.” “I don’t see anything wrong with it.” “I do. Anyway, if I get held back that much, they’d kick me out.” “How dare they?! I want to be in the same class as Rentaro…!” Seeing the female students around giggling as they passed, Rentaro felt the heat go to his cheeks as he shrugged his shoulders. “F-fine, I get it. By the way, Enju, inside the school—” As if knowing what he was going to say next, Enju shook her head slightly and finished his sentence for him. “I know already. In order to hide the fact that I’m one of the Cursed Children, I must act with the utmost consideration inside the classroom.” Only when she was saying things like this did Enju show her dead, cold eyes. Rentaro uncomfortably shifted his gaze. “All right… That’s fine, then… Sorry.” “Oh, good morning, Enju!” A cheerful voice interrupted from the side. Rentaro saw a girl about Enju’s age with frizzy hair. “Good day to you, Mai. I’m glad you look in good health.” “You’re talking funny, as usual,” said the girl. “By the way, did you watch Tenchu Girls yesterday?” “Of course. Tenchu Black’s nihilism where one could not tell if she was friend or foe was excellent, as expected.” She was probably a classmate. Once the girls started talking about the cartoon, they didn’t spare another glance for Rentaro. Even though Enju’s attention was taken away from him in a second, and he was relegated to outside the mosquito net, watching the two talk, his face broke into an easy smile. He felt dumb for worrying even for a moment about her school life. “Well, I’m going now, Enju.” Before she could say anything, he turned his back and straddled the bike. He kept going until he reached the bike stand of Magata High School two buildings over. The bell signaling the start of school rang as he parked the bike and put on the U-shaped lock. Rentaro clicked his tongue. He was late. Looking up at the school with an unambitious expression on his face, he half-seriously considered going home. Instead, he hooked his bag on his back and rounded his shoulders, walking slowly into the school. It was the beginning of another boring day. He slept through Japanese class, and during math class, he was called on three times, but the teacher gave up after being ignored all three times. During break time, the rodentlike girl who was the class president approached him nervously trying to get a survey that had been completed by everyone but him, but he ignored her, too, and she left, looking like she was about to cry. Some meddlesome girl who looked like her protector came to say, “Hey, don’t you think you were a little mean?” but he ignored her, too. “Fine, do what you want, idiot!” she said, and went back to the circle of girls. Rentaro could hear someone saying, “Is that guy even trying? Why is he even here?” Rentaro looked out the window at the faraway Monoliths with a yawn. Right around when fourth period ended, the phone in his breast pocket started to vibrate. Who’s calling me at this time of day? he thought as he rubbed his sleepy eyes and looked at the screen. Looking wearily at the caller’s name, he waited another ten rings for the caller to hang up, but lost to the persistent ringing of the phone and pushed the TALK button. “What do you want at this time of day…President?” “Don’t call me President when we’re not working. Well, I’m calling you about work, though.” From the phone’s speaker, he could hear Kisara’s voice as clear as a bell. “Is it about the case from yesterday?” “Yeah, I’ll tell you more details in the car. Anyway, just come with me to the Ministry of Defense for now.” “Huh?” He thought he heard wrong. Wasn’t the Ministry of Defense responsible for Japan’s national defense? Huh? “H-hey, what’re you talking about…?” “Look out the window.” Hunching, he did as he was told and went over by the window. When he did, he saw a jet-black limousine parked in front of the school gates and his breath caught. “Damn it, all right, I’m going.” “Idiot. You’re late. I’m behind you.” “Huh…? Woah!” Taken aback, he let out a pathetic shout without thinking. Behind him was someone so beautiful it was bad for the heart when she appeared suddenly. He could tell that the other people in his class were also confused at the sudden appearance of someone from another school. “Come on, let’s go.” “B-but what about school?” Kisara put her hands on her hips and glared at him as if he was trying to sneak a peek from below. “I left Miwa Academy for this, too, you know. School or work, which is more important? This month, we’ve had zero income thanks to someone, remember? Good-for-nothing Satomi.” Rentaro shifted his gaze away from Kisara. “For some reason, I’ve come to love work a whole lot…” “Very good. Now, come.” He tried to find an opportunity to apologize for yesterday, but he completely missed his chance. Oh well, he thought, walking hunched over, two steps behind Kisara, who was slicing through the wind with her shoulders. Every one of the students who passed Kisara stopped, gaped, and looked back at her. “Isn’t that the uniform for Miwa Academy?” “No way, the same Miwa Academy that the Seitenshi attends?” “It’s a school for rich girls, isn’t it? Woah, look at how beautiful she is. Who in the world is she?” “No way, no way, no way!” “Hey, who do you think that is walking behind her?” “Who knows? A servant or something?” A guy from your class! At least remember my face! Rentaro silently replied to the voices as he followed behind Kisara. As they exited the school gate, Kisara got into the limousine—or at least pretended to as she turned back and passed it gallantly. “Hey, fake rich girl,” Rentaro called toward her. “Did you know, Satomi?” said Kisara. “You can call for a limousine on the phone.” “Then why aren’t you getting in?” “If I do, they’ll want to be paid.” “Did you prank call them?” “Don’t worry. I pinched my nose and gave them a fake name.” “No, no, that’s not the issue here.” “Oh, Satomi, look. It’s a stray Chihuahua.” “Listen to me!” Kisara broke into a run and started playing with the dog. When she leaned over to pat its head, the stray Chihuahua started licking her hand, and she laughed like it tickled. As Rentaro looked at the profile of her face, his heart started beating violently. “Satomi, do you have something I can feed him?” “Oh, huh?” he said, startled. “Hmm, oh yeah, I do have something. A lot of stray dogs come to our garden, and Enju likes to feed them. Here,” he said, pulling out a bag of beef jerky from his back pocket and holding it out to Kisara. Kisara’s stomach rumbled with emptiness. Kisara stared at the beef jerky for a while. Before he could react, she grabbed it out of his hand with the force of a purse snatcher, turned around with her back facing him, and then—of all things—she started eating it. Rentaro gaped, unable to move. The poor Chihuahua, its food stolen from it, started to tremble, looking up with big wet puppy dog eyes. Before long, Kisara, who was red up to her ears, turned just her neck to face Rentaro. “What? Do you have something to say?” “Kisara, that was for the dog.” “I was a dog in a past life!” She’d moved into the “unreasonable” phase of the argument. “Kisara, shake.” Kisara glared at him with a look that could kill, but before long, she bit her bottom lip and put her own hand on top of Rentaro’s palm, looking as red as a boiled lobster, and then turned her head away suddenly. If she found it so humiliating, why was she giving him her hand? “Turn around.” Kisara spun in circles. Somehow, it was starting to be fun. “Weenie.” “Pervert!” “Wait, was there a trick like that?” “You’re a pervert, Satomi!” “Joking aside, Kisara, are you really having that much trouble making ends meet?” Kisara looked down, embarrassed, and pulled out her wallet, opening it to show him. Looking inside, he suddenly felt the desire to cover his eyes with his hands. He didn’t realize she had fallen so low. “Hey, Kisara… You don’t have to purposefully pay a lot of money to go to a rich girl’s school. You could just go to a regular public school, can’t you?” “Attending Miwa Academy is all that’s left of my pride as a Tendo,” she said defiantly. “I’m allowed, aren’t I? It’s the money I made from properly managing the meager assets I have as stocks and exchanges.” “But Kisara, I thought you hated being called a Tendo?” “How other people see me is a different matter, isn’t it?” “Well, yeah…it is, but…,” said Rentaro. He tried a different tack. “Well then, how were you planning on getting to the Ministry of Defense with what’s left in your wallet?” Kisara smiled an extremely charming smile. “Satomi, you withdrew money from the ATM two days ago, didn’t you?” Rentaro looked away from Kisara. His boss was trying to bum off of him! “Satomi, you withdrew money from the ATM two days ago, didn’t you?” “I did, but…” His voice trailed off. “Satomi, you’re such a hard worker, and so strong, and reliable, too!” “I thought you called me ‘good-for-nothing’ and ‘weak’ and ‘unreliable.’” “That was ages ago. I’ve long since forgotten about that stuff.” “That was yesterday, wasn’t it?” “That was ages ago. I’ve long-since forgotten about that stuff.” “I’ll expense it.” “I’ll pay you back in my next life.” He was appalled to hear this coming from a company president. Rentaro sighed a heavy sigh. “All right, fine! Let’s just hurry up and get going.” As Rentaro started walking, Kisara grabbed hold of his sleeve and looked down. Seeing this, Rentaro got fed up. “What, was there something else?” “Um…,” she said. “Satomi, the beef jerky… Is there any left?” In the end, he gave Kisara the last two pieces of beef jerky, and she ate them then and there. The stray Chihuahua looked up at Kisara with a betrayed expression on its face. “It’s kind of late for this, but was it okay that we didn’t get Enju?” As the train’s departure bell sounded, the doors closed with a rush of air. They were the only ones in the car. Kisara pulled up her hair so that the nape of her neck was showing and looked at Rentaro. “It’s not like we’ll be fighting. It’s more like something that would just put Enju to sleep.” “Oh, I see.” Rentaro understood. So they were going to be asked something about the incident from before. But why wasn’t the usual report enough by itself? “I didn’t hear the details either, but I was just told to go. I hate bureaucrats. They’ve got the nerve to tell the civsec officers who protect the Tokyo Area that they should be grateful they are even getting jobs from them.” “Then you should’ve just refused them this time.” “No way. If they give even the slightest hint that they won’t give jobs to puny people like us, then we have no choice but to obey.” Rentaro sighed. “Even though we’re ‘civil’ officers, we’re still attached to the government by a thread, huh?” “They’re jealous. Theoretically, there is no limit to the abilities of the Initiators. A top-class Initiator is supposed to be strong enough to sway the balance of the world’s armies. That’s why the government generally wants to have all the civsec officers under control to manage them.” “They want to have their cake and eat it, too. But wait, then does that mean that we’re about to enter enemy territory, in a way?” Kisara lowered her long eyelashes and nodded slightly. “Oh dear, you just noticed? That’s why I went and got you, my bodyguard. You’re the only one I can depend on, so you need to be strong, okay?” Inside Rentaro’s head, only her last words continued to echo, and gradually, deep emotions began to well up. Just then, a soft weight fell gently on his shoulder, and he gave a start. Kisara was leaning her head against his shoulder. She blinked her heavy eyelids in annoyance. “Sorry… I’m a little sleepy. Let me borrow your shoulder. I’m always like this after I eat. I can’t sleep at school, either…” “You can’t sleep?” he asked. “Why not?” “I…am a Tendo… I’m supposed to be a model for everyone. I cannot show an unsightly side of myself.” She reached her limit. As the strength left her body, a weight fell on his shoulder. She seemed to have really fallen asleep. Clang, clang, went the train, rushing along with a pleasant rhythm. The sunlight streaming in through the window changed the shadows and shone on Kisara’s expression. Careful not to wake her up, Rentaro slowly turned his head toward her, and his eyes went to her bosom, where he would normally never look directly. Between her slender shoulder and the largely exposed area around her neck was the beautiful line of her collarbone. The soft swell that pushed up her school uniform slowly rose and fell at a distance that seemed almost close enough to touch. His gaze went from her eyes and the tip of her nose to her well-featured face, lips, and long hair. A sweet fragrance that wasn’t perfume or shampoo intoxicated him. Every time her soft breathing hit the back of Rentaro’s neck, he felt like he was being shocked. She’s beautiful, he thought. “Satomi…” He almost answered her until he realized that she was talking in her sleep. But the words she choked out next left his heart hurting. “Satomi…my revenge…help me…kill…Tendo…” He paused for a long time before saying, “I will.” Kisara knit her brows and curled up her body, starting to shake with fright. “Fa…ther… Mother…no…don’t die… Satomi…help me…” Rentaro put his arm around Kisara’s shoulder and hugged her tightly without a word. 4 The government building was deserted after lunch. When Rentaro and Kisara gave their names at the entrance, they were led into the government building and taken up in a pristine elevator. In front of a room marked MEETING ROOM 1 the staff member who was leading them bowed and left. Opening the door in Kisara’s stead, Rentaro raised his voice involuntarily. The room was far larger than the small door made it seem. In the middle was a long elliptical table, and the back wall was covered with electroluminescent panels. The problem was the people who were inside. “Kisara, this is…,” he started. “I didn’t think that we were the only ones to be called,” said Kisara, “but I didn’t expect that so many people in the same business would be invited.” People wearing well-tailored suits who looked to be civsec agency presidents were already sitting in their assigned seats, and behind them were people who obviously specialized in fighting, staying back. In their hands glittered black chrome Varanium alloy weapons. They were definitely Promoters like Rentaro. He also saw a number of Initiators about the same age as Enju next to them. What in the world is about to start here? The instant Rentaro stepped into the room, the idle talk that had filled it stopped, and bloodthirsty glares shot at him. “Woah, hold up. What’s the deal with the quality of civsec officers these days? Are kids playing at being civsec now? Maybe you’ve got the wrong room. If you’re here for a social studies field trip, you should just turn around right now.” One of the Promoters yelled loud enough for him to hear and headed in their direction. The Promoter’s intimidating, iron plate–like chest was obvious even through his tank top. His hair was spiked like flames, and his mouth was covered by a face scarf with a skull on it. The eyes assessing Rentaro’s worth were opened wide, with white showing between the iris and the lower eyelid. He held what could be called a bastard sword—a thick, long broadsword that looked like it weighed more than ten kilos. Of course, it was made of Varanium, so the blade was black. The slender Rentaro would have had a hard time swinging the giant sword. Just the fact that the Promoter was holding it lightly made it clear that he was no ordinary man. Rentaro mustered his courage and stood in front of Kisara to protect her, but apparently the man didn’t like that. “Yeah?” he said threateningly. “Who the hell are you?” said Rentaro. “If you’ve got business with me, tell me your name first.” “What do you mean, ‘Who the hell are you? If you’ve got business with me, tell me your name first,’ little boy? You’re obviously a weakling.” “Civsec officers’ true abilities can’t be determined by how they look.” “‘Civsec officers’ true abilities can’t be determined by how they look’? You’re getting on my nerves. I want to kill you. Seriously.” His sticky glare made Rentaro’s knees shake and beads of sweat appear on his forehead. Damn it, why is there a thug like this guy here? He didn’t want to pick a fight in a place like this. As he looked around wondering what agency the man belonged to, a sharp blow hit his face. Rentaro was blown back and stumbled backward. The next instant, he jumped up, pressing on his face with one hand. Being suddenly head-butted in the face he was more surprised than hurt. He stretched his hand out to the XD gun in his belt. “Idiot,” said the man contemptuously. “What’re ya gettin’ all worked up about? That was just a greeting.” Around them were sniggers that seemed to be making fun of him. That bastard! thought Rentaro. “Satomi, don’t get involved with the likes of him. Don’t forget what we’re here for.” “Hey, bitch, what did you say just now?” “Stop it, Shogen!” Their rescuer was a man sitting at the table who was probably the Promoter’s employer. “Aw, come on, Mr. Mikajima!” “Enough’s enough. If there is bloodshed in this building, we are the ones who would be in trouble. If you cannot follow my orders, then get out this instant!” The man called Shogen looked like he was thinking things over and was eerily silent for a moment. Then he left, with an insolent “Yessir” and a final sidelong glance at Rentaro. Rentaro relaxed his body and sighed deeply. When he did, this time it was the man’s employer approaching them, with his hands wide. He looked to be in his midthirties and had the air of the elite about him. He wore a Christian Dior suit and looked like an intellectual. “You there,” said the man. “Sorry about that. He’s terribly short-tempered.” “You can’t even properly discipline your pet dog?” said Rentaro. The man didn’t blink an eye at Rentaro’s snide remark. “I really do apologize.” “Yeah? Well, I’m used to it, so it’s fine.” That was the truth. Of the civsec Promoters, the hard truth of the matter was that while there were those who stuck to their philosophical beliefs, there were also many who just wanted a place to run wild, or who were criminals who used the position as a cover. The man turned to face Kisara. “It is a pleasure to meet someone so beautiful.” “My, aren’t you a sweet talker,” said Kisara. The man showed no sign of turning in Rentaro’s direction again. Even as he seemed calm and collected in his expensive suit, he also gave an air of nervousness. Kisara wrapped things up with a sociable smile, and she was moderately pleasant as she sat down in a tall-backed chair. “We’re in the lowest seat, huh?” said Rentaro. “There’s no helping it,” said Kisara. “In terms of strength, we’re the lowest in rank.” Looking around again, Rentaro saw those invited were all big names who practically oozed with capability. “Then why are weaklings like us even here?” Rentaro whispered quietly in her ear as he looked at the guys from before sitting across from them. “Also, who are those guys?” Kisara pulled out the business card she had exchanged with the man earlier, still facing forward. There was a watermark on the back that said in gold letters, MIKAJIMA ROYAL GUARD, REPRESENTATIVE DIRECTOR, KAGEMOCHI MIKAJIMA. Rentaro gave a small groan. Even among the major players, this was a huge name that even Rentaro had heard of. It was a large civsec agency that employed many capable pairs. “That means that Promoter is also extremely skilled, huh?” he said. “Someone said ‘Shogen’ earlier, so he’s probably Shogen Ikuma,” said Kisara. “His IP Rank is 1,584.” “He’s on the thousands board, huh?” IP Rankings, which were regulated and published by the International Initiator Supervision Organization, were rankings based on the number of Gastrea defeated and the battle results. There were problems with individual differences in compatibility, but the rank assigned by the IISO was basically thought of as the basis for measuring a pair’s strength. Rentaro wiped the sweat from his palms onto his pants. If that man had come at him in a rage earlier, Rentaro would have been knocked flat, no doubt about it. “By the way, Satomi, do you remember the IP Rank assigned to you and Enju?” said Kisara. “I don’t remember exactly, but…around 120,000 something, right?” said Rentaro. “I don’t remember the exact number either, but it’s about there.” Kisara peeked in Rentaro’s direction and sighed affectedly. “And that corporation employs pairs that are even stronger than him. I’d love a Promoter that strong in my office. Even though my Initiator is extremely gifted, my Promoter is a good-for-nothing idiot who’s ranked lower than me, and is hopelessly weak, at that.” Rentaro pretended he didn’t hear her, but inside his heart, he felt that Kisara’s words had hit the nail on the head. How well-known a company was was directly linked to the quality of its Initiators and Promoters. In other words, if a civsec agency was famous, it was because it employed a number of strong pairs. Enju was strong. With an adequate Promoter, she could probably make it into the thousands board. If she was stuck in the 120,000s middle zone, it was natural for her partner to be called incompetent. Just then, a bald man wearing a uniform entered the room. All at once, the company presidents in the room, including Kisara, stood up, but the man urged them to sit with a wave of his hand. He was too far away for Rentaro to make out his badge of rank, but he was probably a self-defense force staff officer. “The fact of the matter is that we have gathered you civil officers here today because we have a job for you. Feel free to assume the job comes from the government.” The bald man seemed to be waiting for something as he paused for a beat and scowled as he looked around. “Hmm, one absentee, I see.” Now that he looked, Rentaro could see that the only empty seat was six seats down from them with a triangular nameplate that said OSE FUTURE CORPORATION on it. He had met them once before on a job. The fat president had been accompanied by the lanky secretary who briskly took care of whatever the president needed. They seemed like a comedy duo, somehow. He wondered what had happened to them. “Before explaining the contents of the job, if there is anyone who does not wish to take on this job, please stand up and leave the room now. Once you’ve heard what the job is, you may no longer turn it down.” Rentaro sighed inwardly. What was the difference between a job you were forced to take and a task you were ordered to do? He looked around, but as expected, not a single person stood up. The elliptical table that was not quite round had over thirty people seated around it, including Kisara. Kisara, who had come straight from school and was still wearing her school uniform, stood out like a sore thumb, but she herself didn’t seem to care. And behind the company presidents were the Promoters. Their clothes were all over the place. There was a woman who was wearing all red, with a red bodysuit and even dyed-red hair, and a tall, gangly man with bandages on his face who brought to mind Giacometti’s statues. The thought that “I’m going to a government building, so I should wear formal clothes” didn’t seem to have crossed a single one of their minds. Shogen Ikuma stood by himself with his back to the wall. Huh? Rentaro noticed a girl standing close to Shogen. She wore a dull, long-sleeved dress with tights. She had large bright eyes, but there was a coldness to them. Shogen had left such a strong impression that Rentaro didn’t notice her until now, but she must have been his partner Initiator. At that moment, his eyes met the girl’s. Rentaro hurriedly shifted his gaze, but he could feel her staring at him. After a while, he moved only his eyes to look in her direction, but she was still looking at him. He didn’t know what she was thinking, but she pressed on her stomach with her hands and looked a little sadly in his direction. At first, he was worried that she might have a stomachache, but he soon realized that the subtle expression on her face meant “I’m hungry.” She was an interesting girl to be paired with the tough Shogen. “Very well, then may I assume that no one intends to refuse the job?” The bald man seemed to emphasize this point by looking at everyone in order. Then, he said, “You will receive the explanation from this personage,” and withdrew. Suddenly, on the large panels in the back of the room appeared the figure of a girl. “Good afternoon, everyone.” Kisara opened her eyes wide, and then stood up with force the next instant. At almost the same time, the other company presidents also stood hurriedly. Rentaro, too, looked at the panels with unbelieving eyes. With her pure white clothes that made it look like she was covered in snow and her silver hair—it was the Seitenshi, the ruler of Tokyo Area after Japan’s defeat in the war. At a distance not too far and not too close was Kikunojo Tendo, who accompanied her like a shadow. It looked like a live feed from a Western-style room somewhere. For just a moment, Kisara’s and Kikunojo’s eyes met, and sparks flew. Knowing the feud between them, Rentaro was scared. The Seitenshi sat comfortably in an art nouveau–inspired chair of delicate craftsmanship, and expensive-looking paintings and a canopied bed could be seen behind her. It was probably her private room in the Seitenshi’s palace. Rentaro started to feel a strange uneasiness at the sudden appearance of such a person of authority. He had a hunch that they had become involved in something dangerous. “Please be at ease, everyone,” said the Seitenshi. “I will now explain the circumstances.” Not a single person sat down. “That being said,” she continued, “the job itself is extremely simple. The job I have for all of you civil officers is the elimination of the source Gastrea who infiltrated Tokyo Area yesterday and infected one person. In addition, please safely recover the case thought to have been taken by said Gastrea.” Case? thought Rentaro. A separate window opened on the EL panel, and a photo of a duralumin silver case popped up. The number that appeared next to it was the reward money for completion of the job. Seeing that price, obvious bewilderment filled the air. Mikajima suddenly raised his hand. “May I ask a question? May we assume that the Gastrea either swallowed the case or the case became engulfed in it?” “That is correct,” said the Seitenshi. Being “engulfed” referred to a phenomenon that occurred when a victim became a Gastrea, and ripped clothes, skin, or anything the victim might have been wearing would be surrounded by the skin portion and thus adhere to the Gastrea. If that happened, the only way to remove them was to defeat the Gastrea first. “Does the government have any information on the Gastrea’s shape, type, or current location?” said Mikajima. “Unfortunately, those details are still unclear,” said the Seitenshi. Next, Kisara raised her hand. “May I ask what is inside the case that you would like us to retrieve?” In the commotion that followed, it became clear that the agency presidents around them were excited. Unexpectedly, it seemed that Kisara had asked what was on everyone’s minds. “Oh? And you are?” “My name is Kisara Tendo.” An expression of slight surprise crossed the Seitenshi’s face. “I have heard of you… Even so, that is a strange question, President Tendo. Because it concerns the privacy of the client, of course, I cannot answer.” “I cannot accept that. If, according to common sense, the source Gastrea is the same type as the infected person, then the source Gastrea is also a Model Spider. Something of that level could be defeated by my Promoter by himself.” After she finished addressing the Seitenshi, she turned toward Rentaro with a look of uncertainty in her eyes and added, “Probably…” What a rude president. Kisara continued. “The question is, why is such an easy job being presented in such an unprecedented way—and why ask all the top-class civil officers? That is what I do not understand. Isn’t it only natural, then, that I am left to assume that the danger that merits such compensation lies in what the case contains?” “There is no need for you to know that, is there?” said the Seitenshi. “Perhaps not. However, if you insist on keeping your cards hidden, then we will withdraw from this case.” “If you leave now, there will be a penalty involved.” “I am prepared for that. I will not expose my employees to danger with such an unsatisfactory explanation.” In the tense silence that followed, Rentaro thought about the unexpected outcome. On the train, Kisara had said that she could not refuse a job from the government, but— Just as he thought he should say something and opened his mouth, shrill laughter suddenly filled the room. “Who’s there?” asked the Seitenshi.