The people of Friedland were afraid of a murderer who couldn’t be seen. But they had seen the killer. By wearing familiar faces, the criminal was able to walk unmolested through town. Yukinari was starting to connect the dots.
He considered hiding his suspicions about his sister, telling the townspeople only of the possibility that an angel was involved. But that was no good, either. That would only deepen the spirit of suspicion. And the first person they would suspect was likely to be Yukinari himself. Plus—
I have to wonder... Is Hatsune still... Hatsune?
Angels required a soul in order to “activate” them. However much a homunculus might look like a human being, that wasn’t enough for it to function like one, or so Jirina had explained to him. Hence a ritual was performed to capture a soul from another world that had been separated from its body—in other words, the spirit of a dead person. The soul was channeled into a vessel in this world; i.e., a homunculus, and then sealed inside to give it life.
But this was only the beginning. As tools of the Church, it was better that the angels have no sense of self. Free will would only get in the way. So once it was confirmed that a homunculus was working properly, the information inside its brain was wiped clean. Then, it was given the ability to carry out only the most basic orders, so it could be controlled like a puppet.
When Jirina had brought Yukinari to this world, however, she hadn’t done that. Yukinari had been born here with his original personality and memories completely intact. It was probably a first in the history of the Church’s creation of the angels, and it was certainly the worst thing that could have happened for them.
Yukinari didn’t know why Jirina had done what she did. Perhaps she had hoped to use him as a weapon to help her and Dasa escape captivity. Whatever the case, Jirina was considered a rebel against the Church and was killed. It spoke to how serious a crime the Church leaders considered it to create an angel with self-awareness.
Suppose, then, that the Church decided to create a new angel. And suppose the soul they captured to activate it was that of Amano Hatsune. What would they do then?
Normally, they would wipe the angel’s memories, get rid of its personality, and turn it into a puppet. But if they had done that to Hatsune, she would never have been able to leave Yukinari’s name at the crime scenes. Or perhaps they had left her only the knowledge of his name and gotten rid of everything else?
No. They wouldn’t do that. The Church alchemists didn’t know that people in Yukinari and Hatsune’s world used kanji. They had no way of knowing, so it wouldn’t occur to them to leave only part of her knowledge like that.
Chances were, Hatsune still had her memories of their previous world. She was an exception to the angelic rule, just like Yukinari. That made the most sense.
But in that case, what was her objective? It was fairly obvious that the Church wanted Yukinari dead. To that end, they’d produced another angel with the same qualities as him. It was logical. The average mindless angel stood no chance against Yukinari. If one were put into battle against him, it would have to receive its orders, absorb them, and then act, in that order. It would be incapable of acting on its own, and that would make it fatally slower than Yukinari. In a straight fight, Yukinari could hardly fail to defeat it.
Now, if the angel were to ambush him, he might not have the same advantage—but this was no ambush. Someone was deliberately killing innocent people and leaving kanji characters at the scenes of the crimes as if begging Yukinari to notice them. That was not the way to set up a surprise attack.
Why, then? Assuming Hatsune had been allowed self-awareness by the Church, why was she acting this way?
She was always so kind...
Amano Hatsune had indeed always been kind. And Yukinari—Yukinari had loved her. And so...
“...Yukinari.”
A voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked around, blinking. Yukinari and his usual friends had come to the plaza in the center of town. Streets radiated away from the circular area. The plaza was surrounded by relatively tall buildings, so it almost gave the sense of being at the bottom of a hole. Admittedly, a very wide and shallow one.
“Is this about right?” Fiona was pointing to a sign set up in the very center of the public plaza. It was just a board stuck to a post. It had been put up by the community watch at Fiona’s behest, but it was Yukinari who had prepared the sign itself.
“Yeah, that’s perfect.”
The location at the very center of the plaza meant this sign was in the most conspicuous place in town. It didn’t have much written on it. Just four characters:
Amano Hatsune.
Nothing more. It wasn’t even a full sentence.
“What kind of charm is this?” asked Hans, who was accompanying them. “I’ve seen similar—letters? Or patterns?—at the crime scenes we’ve investigated.”
“Are they letters?” Fiona asked.
Yukinari was silent for a moment, trying to decide how to explain this.
“Dasa?” Fiona turned to the young woman.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Yuki won’t tell... me.” She sounded a little annoyed.
“Sorry,” Yukinari said, mussing her hair. She blinked and looked up at him, but he said, “I just... can’t say anything yet. I’m sorry about that.”
“...Mn.” Dasa blushed a little.
“If you say so, who am I to contradict you?” Fiona sighed.
He was telling the truth: he couldn’t say it. Until he was absolutely sure it was his sister, he didn’t want to speak his awful suspicions aloud. It was almost as if saying it would make it true.
Regardless, his friends didn’t press the matter. In fact, they were helping him. For that, Yukinari was deeply grateful.