The Seven-Thousand-Year Prayer
“Ah!” Haruyuki cried out.
The Black King turned a gentle smile on him. “Just over two minutes. A new record.”
“…Kuroyukihime.” He reached out his right hand once more and wrapped it around the half-broken jet-black sword. Even though he had so much he wanted to say, so much he had to say, the words were obstructed by the enormous vortex of emotion welling up in his chest.
Everything was over—even though in actuality, it wasn’t. Although the curse that produced the Armor of Catastrophe, the Disaster, had been broken and the Armor had disappeared superficially, it still existed in some form or another system-wise somewhere in the data that made up Silver Crow. Until it was separated from him as an item through purification, the current mission was not over. And he still couldn’t see the big picture strategy of the Acceleration Research Society, who he assumed were the source of the ISS kits.
Pushing back once more the impulse to clutch the battered and bruised Kuroyukihime to his chest with all his might, Haruyuki slid his hovering body a little to the northeast. His eyes caught the majestic Midtown Tower, soaring higher even than Mori had been, about five hundred meters ahead.
“Can you see it, Kuroyukihime? The transparent Enemy lurking at the top of Midtown there.”
A few seconds later, Kuroyukihime assented quietly. “Mm-hmm.”
At first glance in the fiery light of the setting sun, it appeared that there was nothing around the tip of the massive tower. But squinting hard, he noticed the presence of an enormous something bending the rays of sunlight slightly.
“Iron Pound from GW said it was the Legend-class Enemy Archangel Metatron. He said someone tamed it and moved it from the bottom of the Dungeon up over there.”
“So Metatron has left the Cathedral? Then that means…that that tower is basically unapproachable outside the Hell stage, which has an extremely low appearance rate.”
“That’s exactly it. The huge explosion you guys saw in the south during the last dive was when Metatron there reacted to Pound’s rocket punch and shot off an incredibly powerful laser.”
“I see…The scope of that explosion makes sense now. And this means that Midtown Tower is itself…” Kuroyukihime trailed off.
“Yes,” Haruyuki said. “That’s the location of the ISS kit main body—the headquarters of the Acceleration Research Society.”
With sharp eyes turned toward the massive spire in the distance, Kuroyukihime maintained the silence for a few seconds, then relaxed slightly and murmured, “I dearly want to go and raid it right now, but…Fuko and the others would be angry if we went ahead without them. Let’s leave this Castle attack for later enjoyment.”
At this extremely bold line, Haruyuki couldn’t stop his mouth from softening beneath his helmet. Perhaps sensing this, Kuroyukihime smiled slightly before continuing in a different tone, “Now then, it’s about time for us to be getting home. The nearest portal is…”
“Oh! Oh, no. It would have been inside the tower. If the building was totally blown away, then…”
“Ha-ha-ha!” Kuroyukihime laughed at Haruyuki’s panicking. “It’s fine. No matter what sort of attack they come under, the leave-point portals cannot be destroyed. Their coordinates are completely fixed, so even if the tower was destroyed, it should still be floating in the place where it normally is.”
He sent his gaze racing around. The blue circular form was indeed floating in space several dozen meters diagonally below them. There was no mistake that the shimmering he saw there, so like the surface of still water, was a one-way door to the real world.
Haruyuki gently cradled Kuroyukihime’s injured body in his arms and spread the silver wings on his back—now restored to their former sheen—to start a gentle glide through the air. Before his eyes, the portal hanging in empty space grew larger, welcoming them with a gently pulsating light.
On the verge of plunging into the surface of the blue water, he flipped himself around and took in the eternal evening of the Twilight stage spreading out around them. Beyond the neighborhoods of Roppongi and Shirokane and past Shinagawa, he could see Tokyo Bay, reflecting the orange light of the setting sun and glittering brightly. For some reason, the sight called up a bittersweetness in Haruyuki so strong that he wanted to cry.
The instant they slipped through the ring of blue light and returned to the real world from the Unlimited Neutral Field, something elastic was pressed tiiiiightly up against his face, completely closing off his view. Unable to immediately recall where he had dived from and in what position, Haruyuki frantically flapped his hands.
And then from his fingertips came an incredibly soft sensation like silk thread—although, of course, he had never actually touched real silk—and he unconsciously caressed it. The delightfully smooth texture was something so…right. It was really similar to the feel of Kuroyukihime’s long hair when she had directed with him in an audacious posture on top of him in bed in the nurse’s room at Umesato after he was carried there when he collapsed during the basketball game. Or maybe it was exactly the same thing?
“You really did so well, Haruyuki,” a voice murmured abruptly in his ear.
In an instant, Haruyuki finally remembered where he was. The living room of a stylish town house in one corner of the URB Asagaya residences in southern Suginami Ward, on top of a large beanbag chair by the window. And the person holding his head with all her might was none other than the master of this house, Haruyuki’s parent, head of the Legion Nega Nebulus/vice president of the Umesato Junior High School student council, the Black King, Black Lotus, aka Kuroyukihime.
Kuroyukihime invited me to her house for the first time…We sat together on an enormous beanbag and directed…We used the “unlimited burst” command and dove into the Unlimited Neutral Field together…and then…
When his brain finally caught up, a fierce shudder ran through him. His voice spilled out as he moved his lips slightly, unawares. “K-kuro…yukihime…I—I hurt you…so, so much—”
“That’s enough!” A sharp voice cut off Haruyuki’s river of self-reproach. Gently pulling away from his head, which she held cradled to her chest, Kuroyukihime looked into his eyes from extremely close-up. “There is not a single thing you need to apologize for,” she said, her tone easing. “You fought wonderfully and accomplished what needed to be done. That’s all. If anyone here is to be reproached, it’s me for failing to consider even the possibility of an ambush.”
“Th-that’s— I mean, I, I should have been watching out. I knew the place we’d appear after diving was really close to their headquarters.”
“Even if you had very seriously warned me, it’s doubtful whether or not I would have been able to respond to the surprise attack by that annoying panel avatar. In that sense…I suppose we could say that we both put up a good fight. After all, we’re here like this now, talking, the same people we were before the dive.”
Her endlessly smooth and silky voice gently soothed Haruyuki’s exhausted senses. As the sensation of the hand gently stroking his scalp sank in, his mind threatened to wander far off, but right before it did, he remembered something and opened his eyes once more.
“Oh, that reminds me, Kuroyukihime. You said something right before we dove, didn’t you?”
“Mmm. Did I, then?”
“Umm. Something about if we both come back safe or something?” He turned a puzzled gaze on her.
For some reason, the porcelain of Kuroyukihime’s skin was dyed a cherry pink. She jerked her head back, but perhaps the movement was too sudden, and she lost her balance on the beanbag chair.
Haruyuki stretched out a hand, but to no avail. Her bottom hit the floor with a wonderful thump. Two seconds later, the black-clad beauty stood up with a look on her face like nothing had happened and cleared her throat deliberately before continuing.
“Ahem. D-did I say something like that? Let’s see. That was, then, if we both returned safely, I would whip up some of my excellent cooking in celebration.”
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nbsp; Although he felt that both her tone and facial expression had a fleeting awkwardness to them, the majority of Haruyuki’s thoughts were carried away by the word cooking. The last time he’d eaten was the enormous plate of sushi around six thirty, shared among the six Legion members—well, seven if he counted Rin Kusakabe. He hadn’t moved much physically, but so many things had happened that weighed heavy on his mental capabilities. Just roughly listing them, he had…
June 20, 2047. Seven PM: Haru dove with Utai Shinomiya/Ardor Maiden into the Castle inner sanctuary in the Unlimited Neutral Field. He gained the assistance of the mysterious young samurai avatar Trilead Tetroxide aka Lead, and defeated the guardian Enemy while escaping from the Castle.
Immediately following that event: Haru made contact with the Super-class Enemy, the God Suzaku, on the large bridge outside the southern gates of the Castle. After bringing Maiden to safety, he used the Incarnate flying technique Light Speed to fly vertically upward outside the atmosphere while rescuing Kuroyukihime and Fuko, who were acting as bait. When Suzaku lost the divine protection of flames, it was crushed by Kuroyukihime’s superdreadnought Incarnate attack, Starburst Stream.
Continuing from there: The escape into the Unlimited Neutral Field from the southern bridge was completed. They carried out the mission to rescue Ardor Maiden, but Haruyuki set out alone to find Ash Roller, who was supposed to join them.
After that: Haru discovered Ash Roller under attack by a group of six ISS kit users on Meiji Street in the Shibuya Ward. He lost his composure and summoned the Armor of Catastrophe from its seed state. With his power as the sixth Chrome Disaster, he instantly slaughtered the kit users and then fled the scene.
Thereupon: He met the Green King Green Grandé and his escort Iron Pound on the roof of Mori Tower in the Roppongi area. Haruyuki crushed Pound after a fierce battle and exchanged a single blow with the Green King before bursting out through the emergency disconnection safety activated in the real world.
Seven twenty PM: Haruyuki fled, after locking his friends from his Legion within his home. But in the shopping mall on the first floor, he was captured by Fuko’s child, Ash Roller/Rin Kusakabe. They moved to a car in the underground parking area and, after talking, entered a direct duel.
Seven forty PM: He was recaptured by Fuko, Chiyuri, and Kuroyukihime. He promised not to run off by himself, and at eight PM, they dispersed. He then quietly did his homework in his room.
Nine PM: He exited the house once more, leaving a note to his mother that he would be on a sleepover that night. However, he was recaptured by Kuroyukihime in the garden in front of the condo building. He was put into a taxi and taken to Kuroyukihime’s home in Minami Asagaya. After talking for a long time, the two of them dove back into the Unlimited Neutral Field.
Ten fifteen PM: The battle with the vice president of the Acceleration Research Society, Black Vise, on the rooftop skydeck of Roppongi Hills Mori Tower. Although an evil trick plunged him into an unprecedented state of wildness, he happened to meet Chrome Falcon, the first Chrome Disaster, in the deepest depths of the imagination circuit. He suddenly understood the secret of the two Enhanced Armaments that made up the Armor of Catastrophe and finally succeeded at removing the curse.
All of these too-numerous incidents had happened one after the other in just over a mere three hours. But by his own reckoning, the mental energy Haruyuki had burned was up to 2,500 kilocalories, and thus, it was inevitable that the incredible appeal of Kuroyukihime’s cooking would steal away with his thoughts.
He tumbled out of the beanbag chair with a thud himself and trotted after Kuroyukihime as she headed toward the kitchen.
The kitchen space off the living room was fairly large for a one-person dwelling, but the sink and the induction cooktop sparkled; the sense that it wasn’t used much was not that different from the Arita house. On top of that, he couldn’t spot anything in the nature of a pot. But he interpreted this as something along the lines of a masterful housewife is also good at cleaning up.
“Uh, um, I’ll help,” he called to Kuroyukihime, as she turned toward the refrigerator. “I’m not actually so good at cooking, but I can peel potatoes or something at least.”
“Oh-ho, impressive! Teach me the trick to it next time. When I peel them, they strangely lose mass.”
“O-okay. Anytime. Wait. Huh?” Haruyuki blinked quickly, surprised at the admission. He’d assumed she was an excellent chef.
She yanked open the door of the fairly large refrigerator-freezer. The inside was stuffed not with vegetables or meat or fish or fruit, but countless white square packages piled up neatly.
“Haruyuki, jwestchiitaspagerfren, which do you prefer?”
This question posed to him with a serious face, he thought a moment. Jwestchi was “Japanese, Western, Chinese,” so then if ita was “Italian,” the rest were “Spanish, German, and French”…right? In that case, a single artless question came to mind.
“Uh, um, how is Western different from itaspagerfren?”
“Mmm. It’s obvious, isn’t it? ‘Western’ is a Western-style meal. And I’ll just say this. Western is traditional Japanese cooking, you know. I like beef stew and macaroni gratin.”
“R-right…Th-then I’d like ‘Western’ beef stew.”
“Understood. In that case, perhaps I’ll have the gratin.” With practiced ease, Kuroyukihime pulled two packages from the tall white towers, put them into the high-powered microwave next to the fridge, and pushed a button. “Dinner will be ready in five minutes. Go wait at the table.”
He felt it was a bit hazy as to whether or not this could actually be called cooking, but at the very least, the finger of Kuroyukihime herself had pushed the HEAT button. As he tried to convince himself, Haruyuki slid back into the living room.
The steaming beef stew was transferred from the package to a ceramic plate, and regardless of its origin, it was incredibly delicious. While the flavor was a fair bit blander than the mass-produced frozen dishes, it had a solid savor to it, and there were plenty of root vegetables. Considering the fact that the packaging was extremely simple, it was probably the private label product of some famed restaurant. A salad was also included, so there didn’t seem to be any problems at all on the nutritional front, but as he intently moved his spoon, Haruyuki couldn’t help picking out the lone commonality with the frozen pizza that was his own daily fare. And that was, in other words…
“Let’s trade, Haruyuki. C’mon, aaah!”
Together with these sudden words, a fork was thrust in the direction of his mouth, so Haruyuki reflexively opened it. The large-ish bite of macaroni covered with plenty of velvety béchamel sauce had a firm al dente texture despite the fact that it was a frozen meal, and he chewed it in delight.
Turning a gentle smile on this ecstatic Haruyuki, Kuroyukihime dropped her gaze to the table. “So then, in exchange, that enormous carrot there…”
“Oh! Sure…”
“The super-enormous piece of beef next to it.”
“Oh! Sure— Hey, wait! You can’t! I’ve been taking good care of this little one until now.”
“You accepted a trade without asking the conditions. That was your error. Now, ‘aaah’!” she continued, and closed her eyes as she opened her mouth wide, leaving him no choice but to weepingly offer up the little meat baby he had kept aside to enjoy last.
Enveloped in sadness, but still just a little excited somehow, Haruyuki brought the meat to the other side of the table with his spoon, and after she had disposed of it mercilessly with a chomp and some chewing, Kuroyukihime raised her eyelids and laughed cheerfully.
“Food really does taste better when you eat it with someone else, hmm?”
This hit exactly on the thought struggling in the back of his brain earlier. No matter how good a cook she was or wasn’t, Kuroyukihime was sitting at this table by herself every night. Eating alone was sad. Before the question of flavor or nutrition…just sad. Haruyuki knew that only too well.
“Um, Kuro
yukihime?” Forgetting the pain of having his chunk of beef stolen, Haruyuki opened his mouth, heart full of emotion welling up.
“Hmm? You can ask me to give it back, but it’s too late, you know?”
“N-no, it’s not about the meat. It’s, um…” He clutched the spoon tightly in his hand like a protective charm, and stared intently into the jet-black eyes eighty centimeters ahead of him. “Um, I know we can’t right away, but…I was thinking it’d be kinda nice if someday…we could eat dinner together like this every day.”
There had to be a way—even if every day was more a figure of speech than literal truth—some means of increasing the number of suppers where Kuroyukihime wasn’t alone, by having her stop by his house on the way home from school or somehow getting past the mandatory departure time at school and staying with her in the student council office or something.
This was Haruyuki’s intention in saying this, but…
Kuroyukihime’s reaction was rather unexpected. She dropped the fork in her left hand onto the plate of gratin and dipped her fingertips in the fiery hot sauce when she went to pick it up. Crying out “Ah!” she reached out for her glass of ice water and even knocked that over as well.
Fortunately, it was basically empty, and Haruyuki hurried to catch the glass as it fell. Standing it upright again, he looked with puzzlement across the table.
Kuroyukihime had frozen solid, right hand clutched to her chest in her left. There was an excessively strong red element to her coloring, but he couldn’t manage to read the look on her face. She seemed surprised, but also like she was ruled by a different emotion entirely.
After a few seconds, she finally relaxed her shoulders a little. “Again? Again, really?” she said briefly.
“Huh? A-again? What is—? Did we talk about dinner before?”
“No…This trick is a first, but…this is the second time you’ve done something to trouble my circulatory system.” She followed up this fairly incomprehensible statement by letting out a long sigh. Catching the eyes of a dumbfounded Haruyuki again, the gentlest of all faint smiles—one he had seen somewhere before—spread across her lips.