The Twelfth Zodiac War was on.
When Boar landed on the floor below amid the cascade of debris, the other fighters had already scattered. Only she had chosen to land with as much poise as possible; the others seemed to have prioritized using the chaos to leave the scene undetected.
How so very smart of them, Boar thought.
As long as there was a time limit, the fighters couldn’t stay concealed forever, but neither would anyone who qualified for this prestigious battle be pressured into acting rashly.
I don’t know who broke apart the floor, but whoever it is, I’d better be on my guard. Either they have some superhuman power, or they arrived early to set a trap.
Whatever the case, collapsing the floor was a big move that stopped Team Monkey before it could form. That a team held an advantage was an obvious truth—it was a simple numbers game—but to someone like Boar the concept of pacifism was so alien that even the idea of such a team was repellent. And if that sword-wielding man, clearly no pacifist himself, joined forces with Monkey and the drowsy boy, who knew what they would do?
Boar sensed that her first priority should be to kill Monkey before the alliance could reassemble and put into motion some plot. When she imagined what it would feel like to finally rid herself of that woman, Boar felt as if a load had lifted from her shoulders—and when she pictured herself tearing open Monkey’s stomach, she even felt a carnal thrill.
But these thoughts were interrupted by the sense of another presence—not that sensing it was any great feat. The presence emanated such strong waves of pure evil that the nearby rubble and debris would probably roll right off the building in an attempt to escape, had they the ability to do so.
Boar turned to find the sword-wielding man standing there. He hadn’t been there before—whether he had been under the rubble or if he had left and come back, she didn’t know.
“I could have started with anyone, you know,” the man said theatrically. “Wouldn’t matter to me. But you falsely accused me, you see. So I figured I ought to settle this grudge. Going into a battle with a clouded head is no way to win, don’t you think? The mental game is as important as anything, yeah? And you—you’re a bad person, leveling accusations when you don’t have no proof. Where’s your humanity?”
Boar was speechless. Judging by his incoherent rambling, Boar doubted any hope remained for his mental game. But she didn’t doubt his sincerity—it really could have been anyone he chose. The man came for her not out of any strategy, but because she had happened to leave an impression on him.
By informing her decision to arrive last, Boar’s pursuit of gentility had made her his first target. Perhaps it would have been better for Boar had Team Monkey gotten off the ground, as this man would surely have turned his blades on Monkey instead. That was how flighty his targeting was.
I so wish it didn’t have to be this way. To think I have to fight in Monkey’s place. Even worse, it’s almost like I’m protecting her.
As one part of Boar’s mind thought along those lines, the rest turned an analytical eye to her opponent and sized him up. He was hardly the type of man she enjoyed observing in detail, but she wasn’t about to go blindly into a fight just because her foe creeped her out.
Hmm … He’s so peculiar, it’s hard to get a good read on him, but I can tell he can fight. “Aura” is perhaps a word I prefer to reserve for those of a higher class, but he carries an air about him. Of all the fighters, only Ox and myself would stand a chance against him.
Whether she stood a chance or not, she wished she didn’t have to fight him. She had hoped to let her stronger adversaries battle it out among themselves. But she had never left much to hoping. Luxury was to be made, not asked for—such was her philosophy. This was the time to rise to action—to graceful action.
I truly wish I didn’t have to fight you so soon, but now you’ve chosen your death.
“I am Inōnoshishi, the Fighter of the Boar. I kill in abundance.”
“I am Usagi, the Fighter of the Rabbit. I kill with distinction.”
So he knew enough manners to properly introduce himself.
Boar readied her two machine guns, Aishū and Inochigoi, to fill her enemy with holes. If she were to believe Duodecuple, no matter how many holes her bullets punched through him, the gem would remain unharmed and intact. She could take her time sifting through the blood and meat to find it.
The sword-wielding man—Rabbit, apparently—raised his giant weapons and rushed at her in a bounding charge, but any way you looked at it, her bullets would be faster. Though the woman greatly admired the determination behind his unflinching attack in the face of her twin barrels, a blind charge was perhaps the worst move anyone could make against her.
Just as her fingers squeezed the triggers, someone was grabbing her arms from behind, pinning them to her back. She managed to fire, but her machine guns had been thrown off target. Not one bullet even grazed Rabbit.
But his swords did not miss.
The two blades skewered her and went right on through to whoever had seized her from behind.
For a moment, she wondered if he had gone for her heart. But no, it was her esophagus. This hadn’t been some blind attack, but rather a precise incision to remove her gem. He had claimed her life with a familiar and methodical ease, as if he were merely opening the perforated plastic wrap of a pack of pocket tissues.
And he even stabbed his ally too …
In that brief moment he had disappeared after the floor’s collapse, Rabbit had formed an alliance and staged an attack on Boar. She never would have imagined him to be so persuasive or sociable to pull it off, but what other explanation could there be?
And who was it? Who was so sneaky and so underhanded as to get behind me without my noticing and pin my arms?
Using all of her remaining strength, she twisted her neck to look over her shoulder. What she saw shocked her even more than the blades that had penetrated her esophagus. But it wasn’t the face of the figure that surprised her. It couldn’t have, because there was no face. There was no head at all.
What had grabbed her was a headless corpse—a corpse that until moments earlier had been on the floor. Sure enough, it would have come down with the rest of the rubble.
“You—you,” Boar said as blood flooded the edges of her eyes. She turned her head forward. No more time to choose the most elegant words. “You’re a necromancer!”
“No, a necromanticist,” Rabbit said, pulling his blades free of the woman and the corpse. “I can make friends with people I’ve killed.”
No wonder she hadn’t sensed the thing creeping up behind her. He was already dead.
“That’s the Fighter of the Snake, by the way,” Rabbit said, entirely amicable. “I’m sorry I lied about not killing him. It was just a precaution. You see, I thought you might be aware of my abilities. I didn’t want you to think I’d brought him to my side.”
He hadn’t fooled her, of course. Not that she had any breath left to say so.
I can’t believe this is my end.
The proud woman brought to total disgrace, Boar slumped lifelessly to the floor. The last words she heard, before that thing within that defined her as her drifted away, drove the fallen warrior not to shame but to despair.
“Please forgive me, all right? Because from now on, you’ll be my friend too.”
And with that, only moments after the start of the Zodiac War, the representative for the previous contest’s winning sign met with defeat—and Rabbit’s corpse alliance was born.
Rabbit vs. Boar
End of the 1st Battle