It was Arisu and Keiko who had leveled up. Keiko had told us just a few moments before that she needed experience equivalent to forty-nine orcs to level up…
“So, that monster was at least level 49…”
“Yeah. And I believe it, based on how strong it was—but it feels like it’s not just a simple matter of levels,” Mia said.
I agreed. There was something about the Flying Jellyfish that felt different from our previous encounters. It wasn’t just its strength…
“It had a cosmic feel to it.”
“Mia, it pains me to agree with you,” I told her, “but I think so, too.”
“Um, Kazu-san, what does ‘cosmic’ mean?” Tamaki asked.
I wasn’t quite sure how to succinctly explain “cosmic”—not that I needed to give a fancy explanation right then. “It seemed resistant to physical attacks, but weak to magic.”
“Yeah, Rushia’s attack might have been overkill.”
“I just wanted to finish it in one shot this time. Next time—if there is a next time—we can try different approaches.”
“I mean, I hope we don’t meet it again.” Keiko laughed.
I wholeheartedly agreed. “By the way, Rushia, are you feeling okay?” I asked.
Beads of sweat stood out on Rushia’s forehead; other than that, she seemed fine. The strain of her spell was diminishing with time. Today she’d only used a single tenfold power release, which wasn’t nearly as bad as the double release yesterday.
“I’m good,” she responded. “I think I could handle three in a row today.”
“That’s good to hear, but seriously, don’t overdo it. Keep me updated on how you’re feeling.”
“Okay, Kazu. I’ll refrain from doing anything that might worry you.”
“Really?” I looked closely at Rushia’s surprised face. “Seems like you’re really okay…”
“Kazu is so suspicious…”
“Hey, hey, are you really saying that after you pushed yourself so hard yesterday?” Mia teased Rushia in a strange tone.
The elven princess gave a slight nod. “Now I understand how much trouble I can cause my comrades.”
“Ah, you’re such a good girl,” Mia remarked, trying to pat Rushia’s head. When she came up a bit short in height, Rushia stooped down accommodatingly.
“That’s a good attitude to have,” I said approvingly. “While you’re at it, let her touch your ears, too.”
“Okay!”
“Ah-ha-ha, you’re getting along well,” Keiko said.
I understood that Mia sometimes subtly acted as a lubricant in our group dynamics. She was quick-witted and observant, always keeping an eye on those around her. I didn’t praise her outright, though; I didn’t want her to get carried away.
“Is this the right spot? Here?”
“Ah, wait, Mia.”
“How about this, Kazu, right here, is this good?”
“Hey, don’t go crazy.” I grabbed Mia by the scruff of her neck and pulled her away. Rushia was blushing fiercely and panting.
“Nyaaan,” Mia only said in reply.
✦ ✦ ✦
“Don’t try to distract me with the same trick twice,” I said.
“Just a bit of playful banter between ladies. It’s all lilies and roses here!”
Keiko exclaimed, “Oh my, oh my!” as I tossed the flailing Mia toward her.
“Could you give her a little ninja punishment, please?”
“Me? I wouldn’t do such a thing.”
Damn, I thought maybe Keiko-san’s “punishment” might make Mia think twice. Instead, Mia was using Keiko as a shield, sticking her tongue out at me.
“Are you a child?” I asked her.
“I was—until about six months ago.”
“All right, all right. Mia, I do appreciate you playing the fool for us.”
“Whoa, Kazu’s being sweet! Everyone, Kazu’s being sweet!”
“That’s why our relationship doesn’t go anywhere, because you react like that to everything I say.”
“Now I’ve really taken a hit,” Mia cried, clutching her chest and collapsing to her knees. Keiko, caught in the crossfire, also ended up face down on the floor.
“Ugh, this is just like how I always goof off when it matters most with Yuu-kun…” Suddenly Mia was crying heartily.
“Hey, how did things get like this?” I complained, dismayed.
“Kazu, making a woman cry is not a good habit,” Tamaki scolded me.
“That’s right,” Arisu agreed. “You should be kinder to everyone, Kazu-san.”
“Damn it, Mia,” I muttered, but I still apologized profusely.
“No, Kazu! That’s a bit of unjust blame,” Tamaki insisted, indignant.
“I know!” Mia looked up at me with a deadpan expression, giving a thumbs up. “It’s because Kazu won’t go on a date with me; this is karma.”
“I haven’t had the time…” I said in my defense. “Except maybe here in the White Room.”
“Spending time here only leaves us with memories,” Mia said, nodding sagely.
Yeah, I understand what she’s getting at. The White Room is a kind of fictional existence. Being here feels like a dream. We could hide here forever, free from the threat of monsters, living in peace, but that’s nothing more than an escapist fantasy…
“So, Kazu, I’m not asking for the impossible, just a promise.”
“What is it?”
“Just a little bit of time, the next chance we get. Just the two of us, alone.”
I looked at Arisu, Tamaki, and even Rushia, who were all nodding.
She had already talked to them about this…
“You’re cunning, getting everyone on your side.”
“Call it good communication skills. What do you say?”
“All right, I’ll try to find some time after this mission.”
Mia’s face retained its usual lack of expression, but she nodded contentedly.
“Promise?”
“Yeah, yeah, I promise.”
✦ ✦ ✦
After letting the atmosphere relax, I steered the conversation back to the main issue. I asked the group the crucial question: how should we act in this bizarre space, since we still hadn’t gathered much information?
“Maybe someone should disable their Isolation?” Keiko suggested.
“That’s one option,” I nodded.
Those streets in Shibuya obviously disappeared because I reapplied Isolation, which completely blocked everyone’s thoughts. If we lifted that shield on someone, would the enemy recreate the city…?
But the real question is…
“Is it really an enemy?”
“Uh… what do you mean, Kazu-san?”
“Well, I’m just wondering. Whatever it is that created that fake Shibuya, is it really an enemy to us?”
If their intentions had been hostile, we likely would have been attacked much sooner.
Essentially, we’re in the belly of the beast right now. They have the power of life and death over us.
“Wait a minute, Kazu-san. Then why did they make a replica of the streets of Shibuya?”
“I… have no idea. Mia, throw out any hypothesis, no matter how wild.”
“If an unidentified alien does something we don’t understand, it’s usually their way of trying to communicate.”
I nodded. She’d actually provided a plausible hypothesis on the spot, but I expected no less of this media fanatic well versed in story patterns.
“It’s not entirely impossible,” Keiko said, touching her chin and tilting her head slightly. “But probably, it’s something slightly different.”
“Oh, do tell, big-sister-in-law. What do you think?”
“It’s just a hunch.”
Wow, a hunch, huh?
But this is Keiko-san’s intuition we’re talking about. Honestly, I’m more inclined to trust her sixth sense over any logical argument, especially in a situation like this.