Kuroyukihime’s Return

  “Because I put it far above friendship, above honor…becoming level ten. You could even say that alone is what I lived for. The system message also told us this. That Burst Linkers reaching level ten would have the chance to meet the program creator and would be told the true meaning behind the existence of Brain Burst, as well as its ultimate goal. I…I want to know. Whatever it takes, I have to know.” Propping her elbows up on the table and hiding her face in tightly clasped hands, Kuroyukihime whispered to Haruyuki, in neurospeak so leaden it was as if it were echoing up from an infinite abyss. “Accelerating your thinking, you can get money, grades, fame. Is this really the meaning behind our Duels? Is this the compensation we seek, the limit we can reach? Isn’t…isn’t there something beyond this? This…shell called a human being…outside…something more…”

  Aah.

  A little, honestly just a tiny bit…I get it. Like being on the ground, where it’s hard to hold on, and looking up at the distant sky.

  Almost as if even this fleeting thought had been communicated to her, Kuroyukihime slowly lifted her face and stared at Haruyuki with eyes glowing urgently.

  But that, too, was fleeting, and the beautiful senior, both arms flopped down on the table, smiled dryly and murmured, “So? Are you shocked? Or maybe you hate me, Haruyuki. Perhaps I’ll sacrifice even you at some point for my objective. It’s fine if you say you can’t help me anymore. I won’t try to stop you. I won’t try to take your Brain Burst.”

  After thinking for approximately two seconds, Haruyuki nervously reached his right hand out and stopped about a centimeter in front of Kuroyukihime’s fingertips. “Er, well…,” he said. “In any game, some people want to forget about seeing the ending, and they just roam around the map right before the end forever. They’re obviously idiots. It’s only natural to try for higher levels, if there are any. I mean, that’s why Brain Burst exists, right?”

  This wasn’t just a lie to suck up to Kuroyukihime. As a hardcore gamer from before he could remember, he sincerely believed this from the bottom of his heart.

  Kuroyukihime’s eyes widened in surprise, and then she laughed lightly and brilliantly a few seconds later. “Pft, ha-ha-ha! How did this happen? You’re already more of a Burst Linker than I am. I get it…Only natural to aim for it; that’s where we are, is it…”

  “I-it’s nothing to laugh at.” Slightly hurt, Haruyuki pursed his lips, and then sat up straighter before continuing. “A-anyway, that’s why I’ll keep helping you. I mean, I want to get there one day, too…to level ten.”

  Kuroyukihime’s left hand suddenly moved over the tabletop to grab Haruyuki’s right hand. “Thank you.” Her thought, free of the empty undertone it had held only recently, poured warmly into a flustered Haruyuki. “Thank you, Haruyuki. I knew…I knew I made the right decision. I’m so glad from the bottom of my heart that I chose you.”

  Here was where he should squeeze her hand back and meet her eyes. But there was absolutely no way Haruyuki could do anything like that.

  Instead, instinctively, he pulled his hand back, drew his shoulders in turtle-like, and mumbled in tight neurospeak, “N-no, it’s—You won’t really be able to get a lot of use out of me…A-anyway, to get to the main part of it, you…What am I supposed to do?”

  In the short silence that followed, was it pity that floated up in those still eyes regarding him?

  Finally, after a quiet sigh, Kuroyukihime uttered softly, “Right. The introductory bit ended up going long. But let’s get to the heart of it. I told you before I managed to survive these last two years, yes?”

  Haruyuki released the long breath he had been holding as he lifted his face and nodded with a gulp at Kuroyukihime, whose expression had returned to its normal complacency.

  “That doesn’t mean that I’ve won out in challenges from the blood-crazed kings themselves or assassins they’ve dispatched. Rather…these two years, I haven’t once connected my Neurolinker to the global net. If your name isn’t on the matching list, you won’t get any challenges, you see?”

  “Guh…a-are you serious?” he groaned unconsciously. For Haruyuki, taking in information from the global net was as necessary as drinking water and breathing air. This wasn’t just a metaphor; he had no doubt he would wither and die without it.

  “Very serious. With the fixed-panel terminal, you can still view sites and read your mail. Although the 2-D screen does make my eyes tired. You can get used to anything. But even if I’m cut off from the global net, there is just one net I absolutely must connect with every day, because of my position in society.”

  “Y-your position…? You mean, a rich girl—I mean, a princess?”

  “Idiot!”

  Shot down by that cool voice, he finally started to realize the person before him was just a junior high student like him. “O-oh, right. The Umesato Junior High local net. So, so, w-wait a minute. You can’t mean…”

  “I do mean.” Kuroyukihime drank down the last of her coffee and crushed the cup. “Two months ago, the very day summer vacation ended, I was challenged to a Duel through the in-school local net. By someone at Umesato, just like us.”

  The words that followed further baffled an already dumbfounded Haruyuki.

  “Then the worst thing…Back then, I changed my original duel avatar to a dummy spectator avatar.”

  “Dummy…There’s a function like that?”

  “Mm. There are many times when it’s preferable to hide who you really are and watch from the Gallery. Naturally, the dummy avatar has no battle capacity. However, that’s not the problem…When I think about it now, I realize I was extremely careless. I used my avatar for the local school net as my dummy as well. I certainly didn’t expect a Burst Linker to show up all of a sudden at our school.”

  After a moment’s confusion, Haruyuki jumped up lightly, sending his chair clattering back. “Huh? You mean that black swallowtail…?!” The bewitching avatar that popping up in the back of Haruyuki’s mind projected perfectly onto the graceful uniformed figure in front of him. “Your enemy saw it…on the school net? Which means…Then that’s…”

  “Good guess. That’s right, this person knows”—Kuroyukihime released the cup onto the tray and pressed her right hand firmly against her chest—“that the real me here is Black Lotus. A Burst Linker’s greatest taboo: outed in the real world. I was afraid of real attacks by assassins sent by the Six Kings.”

  Attacks…in the real world.

  Haruyuki had already guessed at the terror hidden in those words. If you could pinpoint someone’s identity in the real world, then at the extreme end of the spectrum, it was possible to kidnap, confine, beat, or threaten that person and steal every last point they had.

  Of course, this would be a serious crime. But even in “normal games,” problems between players had been known to develop into deadly incidents in the real world. And Brain Burst was not just a game.

  Haruyuki held his breath and waited for Kuroyukihime to continue. But…

  “That said, there haven’t been any, not one. Not even a vague sense of contact, much less an attack.”

  “What…?”

  “I was deeply perplexed, but—This is all I can think. My enemy…intends to monopolize me. With the good fortune of having discovered me, whoever it is wants to gradually run me down, big-game bounty that I am, and take every single one of my points for themselves, without telling the Legion they belong to.”

  “Run you down…?”

  Staring intently at Haruyuki tilting his head, Kuroyukihime coughed and began making a list as if it were obvious. “In the toilet. While I’m changing. In the shower. There are plenty of moments where I’m emotionally defenseless at school. If someone pinpointed these times and challenged me to a fight, I certainly wouldn’t be able to respond at the top of my game.”

  “In the…shower…” Unthinkingly, he imagined the whole scene, and betrayed by his voice, Haruyuki was once again the recipient of an icy glare. Fortunately, however, Kuroyukihime didn’t pre
ss any further and continued with a sigh. “The truth is, in these last two months, I’ve been attacked more than a dozen times. The timing has always been less than ideal, although I’ve managed to get away with draws so far.”

  “I—I get it. So basically, this guy’s, like, seriously greedy, then…but in a sense, that’s the silver lining, I guess…”

  “Well, better than an attack in the real world, anyway. But that being said, I can’t exactly trade in my dummy avatar for my original duel avatar and beat him down. My enemy might end up thinking his plan isn’t going to work and give up on my points, then strike a bargain to give my head to the Six Kings for some meager bounty.”

  “O-oh…right…uh-huh.” Haruyuki nodded unconsciously. This was basically the definition of cornered. “Okay, but what are you going to do? You can’t run, and you can’t even get them before they get you.”

  “This I know. There’s only one way to break free. I find out the player’s real identity. Just who is this unknown Burst Linker—what grade, what class?”

  Haruyuki was suddenly overcome with the urge to slap his knee. If they both knew the other’s identity, they would naturally be forced to a cease-fire to protect their own Brain Burst. “Right, of course. Then your enemy would be totally blocked. And, I mean, that’s fairly simple, right? Like at morning assembly or something, when all the students are together in the auditorium, you just accelerate and challenge whoever it is to a fight. You can figure out their class and student number from where they appear.”

  “Oh, aren’t you something? It took me a full day to come up with that idea.”

  “So…you’ve already tried that?”

  “I have. And…I was shocked. It’s been quite a while since I was that surprised.”

  “Wh-who was it?”

  “No one was there.” Kuroyukihime’s response was something Haruyuki had not expected. “My name was the only one on the matching list. Listen, we both know Umesato students are not allowed to disconnect from the school net for even a second while they’re at school, because attendance and the lessons themselves happen via the net. So if you were to disconnect, there would immediately be a school-wide warning broadcast. This is exactly the reason I can’t avoid my enemy’s attacks. And yet…whoever it is wasn’t on the list!”

  “M-maybe they were home sick or something.”

  Kuroyukihime stared at Haruyuki and sniffed lightly. “I checked. Everyone came to school that day. And moreover, once, immediately after I was attacked and barely managed a draw before escaping, my opponent’s name was not on the list. In other words…it’s hard to believe, but this player can block, by some means or other. They can challenge people to all the fights they want, but not a single Burst Linker can trespass on them. A tremendous privilege, and one that erases the great underlying principle of the accelerated world. Someone able to do that…You’d have to be a super hacker, so much so that you could change the Brain Burst program itself, a program which is supposedly impregnable, or—someone with some connection with the program creator…”

  Her only purpose in life was to meet the creator and learn the meaning of Brain Burst. That’s what she had said only moments ago. In which case, discovering the true identity of this mysterious opponent was for her more essential than protecting herself.

  Having guessed this, Haruyuki felt an inexplicable throbbing in his chest as he murmured softly, “So then…what you want me to do…You want me to help you find out the true identity of your enemy, right?”

  Not to protect the princess from evil.

  Well, it’s only natural. Don’t think such stupid things. I’m just a hunting dog chasing prey, a pig sniffing out mushrooms in the earth.

  “Hmm…well, that’s about it, yes.” Seemingly unaware of his momentary internal conflict, Kuroyukihime nodded slightly. “To be honest, I’ve obtained a fair bit of information already. To list everything I know now, let’s see…First, my enemy’s name. The duel avatar is called Cyan Pile. Level four.”

  “Cyan…Pile…”

  That’s kind of…cool. And sounds strong. No, but Kuroyukihime also said that level four is the first barrier. Which meant Cyan Pile was strong.

  “Affiliation is a fairly pure close-range blue. I’ve seen this Linker punch right through the thin walls of the stage several times. Conversely, he or she doesn’t seem to have any flying equipment. Which is why I’ve been able to escape somehow up to now, but…to be honest, I’m coming up against my limit. My powers of concentration are essentially shot.”

  They must have been. Not knowing when you would be attacked from the moment you came to school until the second you left. Haruyuki probably wouldn’t have been able to make it three days. However, Kuroyukihime continued speaking in clear thoughts without a hint of exhaustion. “And, this is at best a guess, but…it’s not just me. Whoever it is, he or she is backed into a corner, too. I get that feeling somehow.”

  “What? By what?”

  “The fear of losing acceleration. Most likely, from being on the verge of running out of burst points. People with points to spare normally try to have more fun with the Duels as fights. Like that Ash Roller you fought.”

  “O-oh, yeah. He was definitely having a seriously great time.”

  “However, my assailant doesn’t have a drop of wiggle room. Silent, not giving a thought to appearance, Cyan Pile comes at me half insane. That feeling, that’s the sign of a Burst Linker afraid of losing everything. So afraid that the stingy prize the kings have put up for me isn’t enough. All the points I’ve accumulated is the goal. But just understanding this desperation doesn’t get me anywhere.”

  “I…guess not. I mean, we can’t make all the students get a psychological checkup or anything. Is that all you know?” Haruyuki asked casually, but he got the impression that Kuroyukihime’s thoughts abruptly froze.

  Huh, he thought.

  Before he could voice the question, Kuroyukihime shook her head and said, “No. I have one other important piece of information…the guide cursor.”

  “Huh? That blue arrow?”

  “Exactly. It points in the direction of your enemy from the moment the Duel starts. So even if I can’t see the exact moment when Cyan Pile appears, as long as I remember the direction the cursor is pointing when the fight starts, the real body of my enemy must be somewhere along that straight-line trajectory. That’s my theory.”

  “Oh…oh! Right, of course. The stages are the real world landscape as is, so you can at least see which direction in the school Cyan Pile is hiding!”

  “Exactly. I’ve memorized the direction of the guide cursor each of the dozens of times I’ve been attacked up to now, made a list of the students in those parts of the real-world Umesato, and pulled out the duplicate names. As a result, I’ve reached a conclusion about which student is most likely to be Cyan Pile. But I have absolutely no solid proof. A single straight line in a place so densely packed with people is simply not enough. There are always dozens of students on any given trajectory. Haruyuki, I want you to watch the next attack on me and memorize the direction of the cursor pointing out Cyan Pile to the Gallery.”

  “If there are…two cursors, then…” Haruyuki mumbled, dazed, and Kuroyukihime nodded, the expression on her face hardening.

  “Exactly. If we have two, then the intersection will give us a single point. And then, the student in that place…I can settle this once and for all. The true identity of Cyan Pile.” Pursing her lips tightly, Kuroyukihime traced a nimble finger in the air, manipulating the virtual desktop only she could see. Just as she was about to slide the file she had called up toward Haruyuki, her finger stopped abruptly.

  “What’s wrong? Who is it, this suspect of yours?” Haruyuki leaned forward, swallowing hard to wet his throat, dry despite the fact that he had just finished drinking that enormous frappe, because he was worked up.

  Kuroyukihime still seemed to be hesitating, but finally, muttering as if making excuses, she flicked the file and sent it over. “
Listen. I prepared this file a week before I found the third acceleration-compatible person I was looking for at Umesato—which is to say, you—in that game corner.”

  Not understanding at all why she would tack on such a disclaimer, Haruyuki accepted the file, brow knitted. He didn’t hesitate to stab the icon displayed on his virtual desktop with the tip of his finger.

  Which opened into a single image. A portrait from the neck up, probably taken from the school register.

  “…Huh…? This…? Why…?”

  The fiercely short hair. The blue hairpin. The big eyes, somehow catlike. It wasn’t just a face he had seen before. It was the only face in this world he had seen more of than his mother’s.

  “Ch-Chiyuri? She’s…a Burst Linker…?” After a full five seconds of muttering and wondering, Haruyuki turned toward Kuroyukihime again, perplexed. “No…that’s not possible! She’s super terrible at games and stuff. Doesn’t matter what kind, she’s just bad, bad…There’s no way she’d be Burst Linker material. She’s so slow…and everything shows up on her face…She can’t be the person who’s targeting you with such relentless focus.”

  “You know her pretty well, hm?” Kuroyukihime said without meeting his eyes, her voice the slightest bit harder.

  “That’s…I mean, we’ve been friends since we were kids…”

  “When she came up to us at the gates before, inside, I was surprised. If she is Cyan Pile, she should obviously know I’m Black Lotus. I suspected it was some kind of strategy.”

  “Um, but that—she doesn’t have that kind of skill; she’s not that kind of person. I mean, she’s super awkward. Everything she’s thinking shows on her face and in her attitude.”

  The more Haruyuki protested, the sharper the angle Kuroyukihime’s eyebrows formed, and she returned in an even chillier voice, “Don’t you think in that case it’s even more natural to think she is Cyan Pile? You saw the obvious hostility she—Kurashima—has toward me.”