He had strained his powers of concentration very close to their limit, but the digital clock display in the corner of his vision changed numbers slowly, so slowly it was as if the display were laughing at him.
Thirty-five minutes. Forty minutes.
Kuroyukihime probably still wasn’t out of the woods yet. Of the twelve hours the doctor had cited, more than ten had already passed.
Hurry and wake up. And then cut off the brain monitoring, Haruyuki prayed with all his heart.
One more time. Once more. He wanted to meet her in the accelerated world, just the two of them.
And this time he would tell her how he felt. He would hold nothing back.
Eight forty-five.
Haruyuki finally saw the first familiar face appear in his alert eyes. He caught his breath for an instant, and then expelled it in a long sigh.
It wasn’t just familiar. It was one of the two faces he knew best in this world. The tall, slender form was packaged in a grown-up velour jacket and chino pants. The airy hair shone brown, catching the morning light.
You came…
Haruyuki relaxed his shoulders, and his face split into a smile. “Heeey, Taku! Over here!”
The moment Haruyuki’s salutation, a little too loud for inside a hospital, reached the entrance from the hallway, Takumu—Takumu Mayuzumi—froze in midstep. He didn’t seem to have spotted Haruyuki. Scanning left to right, he finally turned straight toward the hallway farthest from the entrance, leading to the emergency room.
Haruyuki got up from the bench and waved again. Meeting his eyes, Takumu tilted his head slightly and blinked rapidly several times before his usual relaxed and bright smile spread out across his face. After tossing his navy-blue-jacketed right arm up in a wave, he poked at his blue Neurolinker with a fingertip.
Haruyuki quickly understood that he had to wait until he was authenticated on the hospital net and smiled slightly wryly at Takumu’s usual methodical style.
Regardless of whether you were at the hospital for a checkup or to visit someone, to go past the entrance, the common rule at all hospitals across the country was to either sign in to the hospital net with your Neurolinker or to show your ID at the reception desk to get a visitor’s pass.
However, it didn’t really matter if you stood and waited in the entrance for the mere thirty seconds it took for the strict authentication or moved while it was authenticating to save time. When Haruyuki had come last night, he’d run straight to the ER without stopping for even a second, so the authentication had finished after Kuroyukihime had disappeared onto the other side of those doors.
However, Takumu was apparently not interested in committing even this trivial violation of the rules. He turned his eyes toward Haruyuki, and with an irritated look on his face, he stood in the middle of the entrance hall and waited for the sign-in to be complete. Then, suddenly, as if noticing something, Takumu turned to the side. His eyes ran off in the direction of the automatic doors, and he brought his left hand to his mouth, the way you do when you call out to someone in a loud voice.
Haruyuki wondered if maybe Chiyuri had come and tried to see beyond the front entrance himself.
The moment his eyes left Takumu, it hit him: a faint sense of wrongness.
Would the irreproachable (unlike Haruyuki) Takumu shout in a hospital?
Cupping his mouth like a megaphone. Almost as if he were trying to hide from Haruyuki the words being uttered.
In an instant, his feeling of wrongness turned to shivers, and an arrow of ice pierced Haruyuki’s spinal cord. Opening his eyes, standing stiff as a board, several thoughts flashed simultaneously through his brain.
I—Why did I assume Cyan Pile had to be someone at Umesato?
Obviously because Chiyuri’s Neurolinker was infected with that virus. Because someone was using Chiyuri as a stepping-stone to attack Kuroyukihime from somewhere in the school net like a ghost.
But. If that back door was made for access from the global net? In that case, the suspect didn’t have to be at Umesato Junior High; he or she could be anywhere in the country.
As his brain worked in overdrive, his thoughts were overlaid with a new filter to narrow things down.
Why Chiyuri? Because she was easy to contact.
Someone outside school, closer to Chiyuri than anyone else. Someone with her, so close they could direct. Only one person met these conditions. And he was standing a mere twenty meters away from Haruyuki at this very moment.
The instant his thoughts reached this point, Haruyuki’s mouth moved automatically and the command surged out.
“Burst link!!”
The boy who was Chiyuri’s childhood friend and boyfriend. Takumu.
Boooom!
The cold, dry thunder froze the world. The Takumu before his eyes was frozen in blue, left hand still raised to his mouth.
But he wasn’t frozen, in fact. Takumu had shouted the command into that hand at the same time. And his consciousness was accelerated in a different frozen space from Haruyuki’s.
You. It was you. I can’t believe it. No way. Why? Why?
Confused screams echoing in the back of Haruyuki’s mind, the right arm of his avatar began flashing over his virtual desktop as fast as possible.
Right now, Takumu would be doing the exact same thing. Launching the Brain Burst console, waiting for the matching list to update. And then clicking on the name Black Lotus when it drops down in the results and requesting a Duel.
Haruyuki had to get Cyan Pile into a Duel before that.
He clenched his teeth, opened his eyes wide, and stared at the matching list search display.
Pop! His own name at the top of the list. Silver Crow.
Then the person he loved, the person he had to protect. Black Lotus.
And finally, the name of the enemy he had to defeat appeared before Haruyuki’s eyes for the first time. Cyan Pile.
Be in time!!
Screaming with every fiber of his being, Haruyuki clicked on the name impossibly quickly and hit the “duel” command in the window that popped up.
8
Skree! Skree! Skree! Skree!
The world shook unnaturally for a moment, innumerable masses of metals grating against one another.
The fresh morning light that had been shining in from the entrance became an unsettling yellow. Rusty, metallic, slimy gills grew up like some monstrous creature from Haruyuki’s feet to cover the floor and walls around him. The pillars twisted and became ridged like the stomach of an insect, while several protrusions resembling strange eyeballs popped out from the ceiling. In seconds, the interior of the cutting-edge hospital, which had been so clean, was enveloped in an organic, metallic pollution, the nightmare of an old Cyberpunk author.
As Haruyuki held his breath, standing stock-still, shining silver armor reached down from the tips of his limbs to encase his body, which stretched out and narrowed like wire. Hips to stomach, and then up to his chest, he was transformed into smooth silver, and then finally, his head was sealed in a rounded helmet.
Almost simultaneous with the change from pink pig to Silver Crow duel avatar, two health gauges snapped out to the sides in the top of his vision. Between the gauges, the number 1800. Finally, in the center, flames rose up, and the word FIGHT! appeared within the flames, flaring bright red before bursting and scattering.
Glancing at the counter as it started its countdown, Haruyuki breathed a sigh of relief; he had made it. He looked over to where Takumu had been at the end of the slimy hall. Incredibly, standing in the same place, facing the side, was the unexpected form of Takumu’s duel avatar.
That’s…Takumu?! That’s Cyan Pile?!
Unconsciously, Haruyuki pulled his right leg back a half step in shock.
He was enormous. No, he wasn’t as tall as that. The avatar was just another five centimeters taller than Takumu, who was already 175 centimeters in seventh grade. But from Silver Crow’s perspective at barely 155 centimeters, it was enough for him to have
to look up.
However, the most overwhelming thing was the sheer immense girth of Cyan Pile’s body. Which wasn’t to say he was fat. Four limbs and a trunk with muscles bulging like a pro wrestler’s, wrapped in close-fitting, metallic blue, bodysuit-type armor. On his feet, rugged dark blue boots. On his left hand, an enormous glove in the same color. He looked like the macho hero from some American comic, a full one hundred eighty degrees from slim, lithe Takumu.
Awestruck, Haruyuki was rooted in place.
Cyan Pile slowly turned to the left and stared down at Haruyuki. His head was covered by a stylish teardrop mask. Several thin slit-shaped gaps opened up horizontally on his face, with a single brace piercing them vertically in the center. Depending on how you looked at it, it was almost reminiscent of a kendo mask.
Behind one of the slits, two bluish-white eyes sparkled in a sharp shape with a sudden snap. The left foot came up slowly and fell to the floor heavily. The slime that had built up there whizzed to both sides.
As Haruyuki pulled his left leg back to take another step, his eyes were drawn to Cyan Pile’s bare right arm. What was that?!
Not a glove like on his left hand. A thick pipe connected at his elbow. The pipe was probably fifteen centimeters around and a meter long. The tip of the metal pole apparently equipped inside protruded from the opening and emitted a dangerous, dazzling radiance.
From the color of the armor covering his entire body, Cyan Pile’s attribute was close-range blue. But it was infinitesimally close to the pure blue Kuroyukihime had told him about. In which case, that sharp pole shouldn’t have been a flying weapon.
Even as he had this thought, Haruyuki felt compelled to take another step back.
As if to torment the slender, motionless Silver Crow, Cyan Pile took one slow step, then another, down the organic metal hallway. Then he stopped abruptly.
The mask with its lines of slits turned to survey the environment. Coming out of the mask was…It was twisted gloomily, but it was still definitely the clear voice of his good friend Takumu he had heard so much over so many years.
“Huh. So we got a Purgatory stage. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen one of these. What were the attributes again?”
As the carefree voice spoke, Haruyuki unconsciously opened his mouth. “T-Taku…”
Skkkkrrrk!
Suddenly, the iron rod, driven by Cyan Pile’s right arm, bit into the metal wall of the hallway, tearing it open horribly. Slime and pieces of steel were sent flying and tiny, crushed, peculiar insects he didn’t know the names for dropped to the floor.
Haruyuki swallowed his words and flinched, cowering.
Glancing at him, Cyan Pile continued in an even more cheerful voice, “It’s definitely solid. Might be a little hard to destroy this stage.”
Thud. He started walking again, and the large blue frame drew near, as if bending over. “Haru…Haru. You always were fast on the virtual desktop. I was literally about to push the duel button, but right before I could, you sucked me in.”
“Ta…kumu…”
Is it really you? Why? Since when?
Since when are you a Burst Linker?
Before Haruyuki could voice the questions swirling around in his heart, Cyan Pile made a further utterance. “Honestly, you being a Burst Linker…I have to say I’m surprised. You have no idea how hard it was to keep my calm yesterday. I mean, betrayed by my best friend like that, huh, Haru?”
“T-Takumu…It’s not like that. It’s…” The words Haruyuki blurted hoarsely were drowned out by the iron rod slamming into the wall again.
“How’d it feel, Haru? Directing on Chi’s bed? How’d it feel to be held by her? Did you enjoy Chi’s body, touching her while you thought about me?”
You’re not Takumu! Haruyuki screamed voicelessly. This isn’t the Taku I know. Taku would never say things like that. He’s always cheerful and bright and absolutely never negative. That’s the real Takumu. Cyan Pile is someone else. He probably built a back door in Takumu’s Neurolinker, too, and is connecting from someplace far off.
Haruyuki tried desperately to make himself believe this.
But there was the aura he had felt then.
Haruyuki was keenly conscious of the fact that the exact same aura he had felt when he was directing with Chiyuri and discovered the virus in her Neurolinker—that shadow of someone hiding back there, eyes and ears wide open—was radiating off the blue duel avatar in front of him.
And maybe it was the same shadow he had felt since way back when, since the three of them were kids, when Takumu would sometimes turn glancingly at Haruyuki and Chiyuri when they were fooling around.
“Taku…is this you?” The words Haruyuki uttered from under his silver mask echoed so sharply and clearly that they surprised even himself. “You infected Chiyu’s Neurolinker with that virus? You hid from Chiyu and connected to her, making her senses your own private peep show?!”
“I’d rather you didn’t call it a virus.”
The enormous avatar, stopping a mere five meters away, opened up its left hand nimbly, a smart gesture that alone was like Takumu. “Chi’s my girlfriend. So of course I direct with her. And directing means offering up your Neurolinker to your partner. It means circumventing password authentication, laying bare the depths of your local memory, and accepting whatever happens, whether it’s some file getting looked at or some program getting installed. Am I wrong? Haru, I mean, you…” Inside the slits cutting across Cyan Pile’s mask, Haruyuki could feel a sneer sliding across the face he couldn’t see. “You directed with Chi and dug through her memory without her knowing, right? And you’re not even her boyfriend or anything. Aren’t you the one who took advantage of Chi’s kindness to do something dirty?”
“Th-that—”
“You’ve always been like that, Haru.” As Cyan Pile spoke in a calm voice, a large, strangely shaped metal insect scuttled by on the wall to his right. He casually raised the enormous needle in his right hand and lightly pierced the insect’s back. Pinned to the wall and squealing, the insect moved its countless legs frantically, trying to get away. “Ever since forever, with Chi, you’ve been all, Poor me. Pathetic me. Be nice to sad little me. Hang out with me more. That’s all you’ve ever said to her. Not in words, but with your attitude, the look in your eyes—with your entire existence, actually.”
The rod sank deeper into the insect’s carapace, making a wet sound. Green liquid splashed out, and the virtual insect began to writhe even more frantically.
“Girls, they don’t get it. Chi always looks like she had so much more fun dragging you along by the hand, complaining the whole time, than she does when I’m the one holding her hand. Ever since we were kids, she looks so happy watching out for you, taking care of you. Did you know? Wherever she goes, Chi always brings a big handkerchief. For sweaty you.”
Clang!!
With a terrifying noise, the insect was pulverized, and the dark green shell and limbs shot out with the slime from the wall.
Half bewildered, Haruyuki asked Cyan Pile, insect fluids still dripping from the needle, “So that’s why…? That’s why you told Chiyu you liked her two years ago? Like that…like you were in a hurry?”
“Not like I was in a hurry. I was hurrying. I was sure if things kept up like that, Chi’d try to spend the rest of her life watching out for you. Like those ancient manga you keep an archive of. She’d end up all, You can’t live without me, so I’ll marry you. Ooh, or maybe your strategy was to lead Chi there? Ha-ha-ha!” Cyan Pile laughed brightly, but with a distorted echo that made a shiver run down Haruyuki’s spine.
No. No.
Takumu, you’re wrong. Chiyuri definitely did not have fun looking after sad-sack me. She’s been seriously worried. She doesn’t know what to do about me.
But Haruyuki didn’t know how to say these things so that they would reach Takumu. Because on a superficial level, there was a certain truth in what Takumu was saying.
Turning to Haruyuki still standing
there, Cyan Pile took another step. “I was pretty happy two years ago when Chi picked me. I thought she finally understood that she was better off being happy with me than working so hard to look out for you. I suppose…it was a practical decision?”
“Practical?”
“ ‘We can’t be little kids forever,’ right?”
The words Haruyuki had said to Chiyuri the day before.
Cyan Pile raised the tip of the metal needle, dyed green, up into the air as if seeking agreement. “I mean, Chi’s a girl—well, a woman. She’ll realize someday that she’ll be way happier with a boyfriend she can brag to her friends about, a nice marriage, a satisfying life. So I tried my best. I studied so much it nearly killed me and got into the school I’m at now. I run every day to train my body while you play your dumb video games and sleep like a little baby, Haru.”
“A-are you serious?” Haruyuki shouted almost mechanically, unable to collect his thoughts. “Do you really think Chiyu chose you because of some calculating self-interest?!”
“I don’t like that phrase, calculating self-interest. It’s just a fair way of looking at things.” Cyan Pile laughed again. “Chi has the right to be happy. The right to date me—best student in my grade, kendo champion—and be happy.”
Haruyuki inhaled sharply.
This isn’t Takumu.
He couldn’t believe that this was Takumu’s true self. He didn’t want to believe it. Something had warped Takumu.
Part of it was probably Haruyuki and Chiyuri’s relationship. Chiyuri continued to care about Haruyuki while dating Takumu. He probably felt driven to the wall by that in a way. But more than that, what had changed Takumu was probably…
“This isn’t you, Taku.” Haruyuki raised his silver mask and stared directly into Cyan Pile’s sharp eyes. “Being the best in your grade, the championship, that’s not you. It’s Brain Burst; it’s the acceleration. When? When did you become a Burst Linker?”
For a moment, the Purgatory stage was shrouded in silence.