PART ONE, CHAPTER EIGHT: "SHIBUYA"

-THE GOLDEN BOY & THE INNER CITY- "Satou Shibuya."

The woman's voice demanded silence.

Behind her, Niflheim's dark cityscape streaked past the train's windows. A low whir, the whine of machinery, filled in the gaps. The train's infrequent rumble set the stage. I reclined in my faux leather seat, mottled and dirtied with the stains of public transit.

Between the woman and I, silence answered. She for reasons I couldn't place, myself out of anticipation. Her breathing slowed, mine followed suit. Both of us knew, I think. Our stalemate needed to end.

A mechanical voice killed the silence. "Next stop, Nakagawa Junction."

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Fran Fairchild. Just Fran is fine."

Fran Fairchild produced both cigarette and lighter. She brought the vice to her lips and, with a click, it lit up. Smoke escaped from between her rosy lips, then her red-pink eyes fell to me. The woman expected another question, and I readily obliged.

"How can I help you, Miss... Fran?"

"Aren't you a barrel of fun," said Fran. "Karatsuba sent me."

So it's like that.

Karatsuba were a PMC known for training Ace Demonslayers. Many Demonslayers sought their mark, a black shawl crested with a three-legged crow. Karatsuba's coat of arms, their black wings, represented talent. Shizuka too idolized Karatsuba, but for reasons I couldn't stand.

Fran shrugged. "That guy said you'd be bitter. Smile a little, huh?"

I hadn't noticed my scowl. Being strung up didn't suit my character, my archetype. I couldn't play my role like that. The show couldn't start without its leading actor, I knew this better than anyone. My face relaxed, a splendid return to form.

"Bitter? How foolish," I said.

Fran stifled a laugh. She peered out the adjacent window, caught her breath, then turned back to me. Fran resumed spinning a high heel on her toe. She stirred for momentum at the bottom, only relaxing as her shoe hit the top of its arc. A tic? No, a bad habit?

How interesting.

Fran smirked. "Jealous, boy? Anyone can do this much with free time and practice. Started out in a waiting room at the hospital. Was reading a magazine, don't know when my feet started moving. The Boss is always complaining about it, but—"

"Let's not get sidetracked," I said.

"Right, my bad. Where was I? Yeah, now I remember. Like I said, Karatsuba sent me. You're that guy's magnum opus, so he doesn't want you wasting away in a corporate office. That's why he sent a hound like me after a trickster like you."

I frowned. "A trickster? I'll assume you were briefed with such terminology. With that said, I won't atomize you. In any case, what does Karatsuba want? I think I know, but let's clarify just in case. Misunderstandings are the seed of chaos."

"We're recruiting, and we've got eyes on some promising talent. You, the Trickster. Your sister, the Sun. We've also got the Dragon, the Viper, the Crow, et cetera. Neat code names, right? The Boss came up with them on his coffee break, said he liked yours the most."

"How many of Niflheim's students are you eyeing?"

Fran crossed her arms and glanced towards the ceiling. She tapped a finger against her elbow. Once, twice, so on and so forth. Fran focused on me after ten or so seconds. She grinned.

"Including you," she said, "about thirty-three people. Niflheim is full of strong candidates. Besides, this year Karatsuba is proctoring the Demonslaying Examination alone. We don't have to share our toys with Eisenritter or Daisekidou, we can take anyone we want."

"Almost anyone. I'm not taking the examination."

"Oh?"

Ding. The train stopped. Its mechanical voice sounded.

"Nakagawa Junction. If this is your destination, proceed to the doors in an orderly fashion."

The train's doors opened to greet new passengers, but nobody boarded. Fran and I sat there in an awkward silence, neither of us breaking eye contact. I didn't have anything to say. At least, nothing that came to mind. Then, after thirty seconds, the doors closed.

We broke eye contact with a sigh. Our staring contest hadn't just unnerved me, it seemed. Fran cleared her throat. Her gaze jumped between me and the train's doors. Once, twice, thrice. When the train started moving again, she gave me her full attention.

I tilted my head. "Forgive my asking, but when's your stop?"

"Nakagawa Junction."

"Are you a fool?"

Perhaps unhappy with my question, Fran frowned. Until then, she'd properly maintained the visage of a cool adult. Now I saw that my words had an impact on her, a fact that allowed me to relax. Even so, I couldn't stand being near her. I wanted to move.

My eyes fell on another spot five seats away. I stood and began my trek over. Fran was quick to react, stepping in my path and motioning to where I'd sat moments ago. I clicked my tongue, but returned to my seat. Fran did the same.

"Listen," said Fran, "I wanted to persuade you. Hoped you'd help me with the next candidate, actually. Mai Gagetsu, a second year at Sakuragi Girls' School. Tall with a big scar on her face and right shoulder. Tanned. Has a huge rack, yams the size of my head. She's the Iron Queen of your little clique, right? Introduce me, aren't you two close?"

"Yams? Really?" A groan escaped my lips. "In any case, I refuse. Gagetsu can't stand me and the feeling is mutual. The exalted Satou S. Shibuya can't be bothered with your antics, not on a beautiful night like this."

"Man, you're a tough nut to crack."

I stood up. "Is that so? Don't you know about the old Golden King's reputation? What of the Silver Knight, the Pyrite Rook, or the Iron Queen? What of the Chrome Bishop? The Diamond Pawn? Tell me, do you know anything? Their presence serves as defamation for those in close proximity. If you understand, bother someone else."

Perhaps it came across as cruel, but I couldn't associate with the Golden King's Round Table. Being near Genjou pushed the envelope enough. An apology wouldn't suffice to my old companions, so I hadn't bothered.

Besides, we weren't friends.

A sad thought. Still, I turned towards a distant seat—

"Beneath the stars."

Foreign bloodlust turned my head. My body reacted faster than my brain.

Reiki reinforced flesh as I swiped at the space behind me. My arm recoiled, greeted by heaviness. I turned to find my forearm bent in a sickly crescent, connected by skin alone. Golden circuitry traced jagged lines along the limb's surface. It returned to form in an instant, no worse for wear.

"Nice reflexes," said Fran.

The woman stood with her left hand in her pocket. A ghostly visage overlayed her right- an arm wider than my own head. Patches of black fur barely hid the muscle beneath.

She attacked before I could blink, but not before my arms moved.

Crack! A bone snapped, but not mine. Fran jumped backwards, opening three meters between us. My reflexive handiwork soon became apparent. Her ghostly arm bent at a ninety-degree angle.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

Fran's apparition healed in an instant. "That guy said it'd be fine to test you."

"That guy? You mean—"

Fran didn't let me finish. She lunged forward, ghostly knuckle cocked. I retrieved a stapler from my school bag, but her knuckle came the moment I did. I stepped backwards, my bag catching part of her attack. It smashed through a window and disappeared into the night.

How many bags must I lose?!

I discarded my jacket and darted to the side. Fran's black knuckle swiped where I'd stood moments before. I refused to move back any further, my pride didn't allow it.

The train came to life with an aurum glow. Reiki scattered and flecks of industrial metal transmuted to solid gold. My ability's hungry growl saturated the atmosphere.

Fran snickered. "You're finally attacking?"

Low to the ground, I lunged forward. Raging winds passed overhead, the tell-tale sign of another punch. My right foot stomped the ground and crunched the metal beneath. Stapler in hand, I thrusted towards Fran's gut.

"One thousand foes," I chanted.

Reiki skewed the stationary's form. Reversion corrected the base matter, optimization created the proper frame. Alteration adjusted the material's properties, reinforcement heightened molecular stability. My sword, Bigwig, took form. Two meters in length, a foot in width. Even so—

"You're too obvious, boy."

—Fran stopped it. She'd formed another black knuckle, this one over her left arm. The apparition held my sword's blade, a mere foot from Fran herself. Oil-like blood dribbled to the ground.

Too obvious?

The spike in Bigwig's blade shot forward. It blasted through the apparition's palm, splattering black blood everywhere. Fran recoiled, I stepped forward. Bigwig traced a vertical arc.

"Still too obvious!"

Crack, she deflected it. I realized what happened and took a two-handed stance. My foe's technique couldn't be mistaken, I immediately recognized her. Karatsuba's rank seven, Bloodhound Fran. I couldn't show her my back.

Surpassing those supersonic fists became my priority. I continued my advance, swinging a mile a minute. Black hands always arrived first, a testament to my foe's speed.

What flawless form.

Fran recognized the danger of Bigwig's pile bunker, she didn't hide this. I pushed my advantage. With a shift in weight distribution, I twisted my waist and swung Bigwig like a baseball bat. Its weight ripped through the adjacent seats—

"Kh—?!" I gritted my teeth.

A blow slammed into my chest, I couldn't react. The wind pressure hit the wall behind me. Sickly, like the scream of crushed metal. Clumps of blood and flesh caught on my throat. Something exploded, something that shouldn't have.

My regalia fixed my wounds as I prepared to meet my foe's next attack. The phantom pain of crushed bone and ruptured flesh greeted me. Even so, Fran charged towards me—

—She's too fast.

No, she arrived in an instant. I steeled myself and raised Bigwig in front of my torso. Then, with a train-shaking impact, Fran slammed into my sword. My foundation crumbled, the air ripped from my lungs. I smashed into a wall, but the battle continued.

A black apparition overlapped with Fran. "Hunting the sun—"

"Tch!"

"—Devouring the moon!"

A black knuckle shot forward. Space bent like ripples on a liquid surface.

I dropped low to the ground, an ingrained reflex. I couldn't take that punch. My ad-hoc mountain cutter couldn't stop her. I couldn't dodge either, but why bother? I lunged forward.

It's coming.

Fwoom. Fran's punch passed overhead. All the train's windows exploded. Air pressure tore a hole in the ceiling. Falling snow sublimated to molten-hot steam.

Wind pressure assaulted me. My left arm snapped at the elbow, but didn't disturb my stance. Reiki-charged adrenaline fought off pain. I pressed onward, ignoring torn skin and muscle.

"▂▃▄▄▃▄▄▂▃▄▄▃▄▄▅▅!"

Roaring reiki gave form to a long-eared beast, the manifestation of my ability. Bigwig held in one hands, I thrusted at Fran's torso. Her apparition tried to catch it, but the blade opened like a stapler.

"Shit—"

Click. Bigwig's jaws slammed shut around Fran.

She barely protected herself, staving off broken arms with her apparition's savage strength. It didn't matter. Golden electricity arced between Bigwig's two fangs, turning the spike between red-hot.

A slow saunter, an unstoppable waltz, I pushed forward until Fran hit the wall behind her. My fingers clutched Bigwig's handle. They scorched black, a pain I'd long since gotten used to.

Fran panicked. "Oi, oi!"

"I've decided your fate—!"

I lifted my foe above my head. Bigwig crackled and sputtered. Sparks from above burned my cheek, but I paid this no mind. I sneered as I pulled the golden trigger.

"Shatter, just like the Moon."

Bigwig's spike sank to its maximum depth.

Moisture in the air became steam. The wrath of SHIBUYA's sky-killing legacy forced superheated gas in all directions. My surroundings turned red-hot, and everything that couldn't turned to ash. Leather seats, my clothing, everything disintegrated onto the winds.

Lightning pierced the heavens, melting every snowflake in the sky. Only the thump of a spike falling back into place sounded. Melted and malformed, like an unfinished sword. An empty shell casing ejected from Bigwig's side. It hit the ground and splattered into molten metal.

The aftermath of my attack came next, a thunderous boom that rolled across the horizon for all to hear. Its low rumble shook the atmosphere, shattering our surroundings. Bigwig's blade crumbled next, unable to withstand my full power. I clicked my tongue.

As per usual, the train remained. Beaten and broken, but still functional. Mostly functional, at least. Its mechanical voice came, saturated with stutters and static.

"Ne-Ne-Ne-Next stop, Ryugujo Station."

As the dust and steam cleared, I retreated back a step. Reversion replaced my clothes and corrected my wounds. I registered no problems, so I glanced upwards. There I found a rapidly expanding hole in the clouds. Pale light filtered down from above.

My eyes panned down to see how my foe had managed. Fran lay at the other end of the train, left hand clutching her wounded right arm. Sweat rolled down her brow, but she didn't take her red eyes off of me. I didn't have to ask how she'd staved off my attack.

What a durable mutt.

A jet black phantom loomed over Fran, no doubt the avatar of her ability. Its form, most reminiscent of a massive black hound, glared at me through feral eyes. Flesh melted off its frame, revealing charcoal-black bone. The entity fizzled away, unable to maintain its true form.

The woman peeled herself off the ground. Burns of varying shapes covered her otherwise pristine skin. All things considered, she'd come out of my attack fairly well. I'd been ready to heal her wounds too, so disappointment struck me.

Fran wheezed. "You're—"

"Satou Shibuya, former King of Gekko District. Born May eighth, blood type O negative. It's unfortunate, but I'm a very fickle person. My likes and dislikes are always in flux. Still, you don't care about that. You're only interested in the exalted Satou Shibuya's worth, the nature of his confidence."

"The answer?"

I pointed skyward. "Isn't it obvious?"

The Earth's fractured Moon, a scar from the first Demon invasion, shone for all to see. Its gentle glow filled the train car, unimpeded by Niflheim's usual clouds. The planet's debris ring stretched on for as far as the eye could see, a beautiful sight indeed.

Yes, none could question. To Niflheim's citizens, SHIBUYA's sky-killing legacy had to be part of day-to-day life. That's how it used to be. How long had passed since then? How many months, I wondered? That didn't matter, not in the slightest.

How pointless.

Akane might've cried if she saw this sorry scene. I lowered my arm and tossed Bigwig's hilt aside. It slid to a halt in front of Fran, who eyed the metallic object. She didn't understand what I wanted, I think.

"Fetch," I said.

She didn't respond.

"Never mind, keep it as a reminder of today. Forever remember your place beneath my feet. A mutt like you might otherwise forget. All you do is eat and defecate, completely ignorant to your surroundings. Foolish. Still, I wouldn't mind having a pet."

Dry laughter left Fran's lips. "...You're terrible."

"Am I?"

I retrieved my jacket from a nearby seat. Gashes and burns coated it, the result of my and Fran's small bout. I slipped my arms into the sleeves and, with a slight nod, activated my ability. Golden reiki corrected any faults in the material and returned the coat to its original state.

Next came cleaning. I touched a hand to the train's wall and ran my reversion process. Time seemed to rewind as metal and glass flew back into place. This mess posed no challenge, not for Satou Shibuya. Using the train as a conduit, I even healed Fran.

Fran grunted. "Gh—?!"

An obvious reaction. The feeling of reversion couldn't be described, not in a manner that did it justice. Having the skin peeled from your body felt terrible, but imagine experiencing it in reverse. It produced a weird "I'm not sure if this hurts" feeling. Still, I couldn't get sidetracked.

The white-haired woman dragged herself to a nearby seat. While she caught her breath, I moved to the train's doors. We didn't compliment each other and we didn't say goodbye. We'd meet again, I knew it. After my show of dominance, Karatsuba wouldn't leave without SHIBUYA.

Ding. The train stopped. Its mechanical voice sounded.

"Ryugujo Station. If this is your destination, proceed to the doors in an orderly fashion." -S0018-

It didn't take long to get home from Ryugujo Station.

From home, I turned right and continued down the street. I'd hit the tree where I first met Yamashina Yoshida, near my sister's favorite cafe and patisserie. If I kept walking, Ryugujo Station came up on my right. Reversing the steps brought me home.

The exalted Satou Shibuya wasn't a robot. The journey's monotony turned my eyes to the moon above. Due to Niflheim's weather, the moon always disappeared. Sometimes it took hours, sometimes it took days. Niflheim's clouds couldn't be defeated, not even by me.

I'm getting sidetracked.

My house came into view down the block. This alone made my day worthwhile. What could sister dearest be doing? Had she missed me? Thoughts like this psyched me up as I opened our front gate. After a small nod, I entered through the front door.

Kekekeke. A strange cackle greeted me.

Shizuka's nonchalant voice came from the living room. "You're not a criminal or anything, right? If you are, leave and I'll forgive you. Haven't seen your face yet. My little brother is scary, you know? You'll cry if he finds you. He'll eat you like caviar."

Kekekeke.

"I'm flattered by your faith. You should know, however, that I don't eat people. Have you been considering unsavory deeds? Deeds involving consumption? Fear not, your cute little brother won't fault you. I'll protect you until the end of time."

I heard a sigh. "Eh? Just Satou, huh?"

"You sound disappointed."

"Really?"

Kekekeke.

I couldn't hold back any longer. I'd tried to ignore the cackling, but I couldn't! An iron resolve brewed, one I vowed to see through. I wanted to figure out the source of that laughter. With a nod, I slipped my shoes off and walked into the living room.

Shizuka sat on a leather couch in the living room's center. I noticed what looked like an opened letter on the glass table in front of her. Also on our table, a glossy black box. Not large, but also not small. Ordinarily I wouldn't have dug any further—

Kekekeke.

—Except Shizuka was trying to force the box open.

I squinted. "Sister? Light of my life?"

She didn't look at me. "How did things go with the Student Council? Did you get a position? I doubt it. After all, we're talking about Satou. You wouldn't be able to handle another position of power. No offense, but you're too strict."

"I'm only strict with you, sister dearest, but let's put that aside. I'm curious about another matter. What are you doing? Actually, don't answer that. I have a better question, one that cuts right to the heart of this whole shebang. What is this black box?"

"I texted you, remember? Mom sent us a thingy. Another puzzle, I think. You press the buttons in the right order to make it open. If you put in the wrong input it does this creepy laugh. Here, like this. Listen closely, little brother!"

Kekekeke.

"Love," I frowned, "You were trying to break it open."

Shizuka gave a dismissive wave. "Go make dinner or something."

"Yes, yes."

Sister dearest couldn't handle puzzles. Eventually she'd toss her problem my way, like always. I stepped into the connected kitchen and checked the fridge's contents. Sports drinks filled up the bottom section, at least forty of them. Nothing abnormal, our fridge had always been this way. Shizuka and I burned through electrolytes abnormally fast due to our powerful abilities.

I scanned the fridge's top section. As I did—

"—Satou, er, um..."

Shizuka caved faster than I'd expected. I stepped into the living room and sat on the couch. The side opposite to Shizuka, of course. We'd done this song and dance many times before. Mother loved puzzles, a fact that heavily influenced our upbringing.

"Yes, Shizuka? My world-class older sister?" I asked.

Shizuka scowled. "Are you trying to pick a fight?"

"You want my help? It's a limited time offer."

Shizuka seemed to consider this, then gave a reluctant nod. Her defeated look made want to tease her. Not with impure feelings, of course. My routine sister pestering hadn't turned me into an unsavory individual like Genjou. At least, I hoped.

Let's not get sidetracked.

I glanced over the black box. Closer inspection revealed four buttons on one of its faces. Each button had dots on them. One button with five, one with thirteen, one with nine, and one with eleven. An interesting concept. Four buttons meant sixteen possible outcomes. A fair amount, but nothing a truly determined person couldn't solve. Shizuka couldn't have tried very hard.

"Satou, is something wrong?" asked Shizuka.

"That's an odd thing to ask."

"Eh? Really?"

I shrugged as I skimmed Mother's letter.

Sylvia Shibuya, your wondeful mom, takes the stage. I present another gift to my twin rabbits, Shizuka and Satou. Think of this as an early birthday present. Do with it what you will, but don't flaunt it. Now then, let's talk about puzzles.

The letter detailed a simple puzzle. Each button represented the age we'd been when certain events transpired. In this case, the events related to Shizuka's training. Shizuka's ability test, her first combat test, her anti-contamination test, and her second combat test. I'd taken all four too, but not at my own behest. That man's face came to mind.

Shizuka seemed concerned. "You're freaking me out, Satou. Did you get into a fight?"

My jaw relaxed. "What makes you say that?"

"Barring the fact that I looked out a window, you've been releasing bloodlust since you got home. I wasn't joking, Satou. I couldn't tell if you were a criminal, not until you spoke. It's not my business, but I wanna know. Why were you fighting? Did someone attack you again?"

"That man sent his dog after me," I said.

"That man? You mean Dad?"

A scowl formed on my face, one I noticed. Shizuka stated a fact I refused to accept: that man, Sougetsu Shibuya, was our father. He held the position of Karatsuba's rank one, hence why Shizuka idolized him. Even so, Sougetsu Shibuya and Satou Shibuya couldn't get along.

Shizuka sighed. "Listen, Satou—"

Ding! Cool mist seeped from the box's corners. I'd cracked the code. My sister had something to say, but I didn't want to hear it. I placed the box on the table and watched as it unfolded. Each side, click after click, flattened onto the table's glass surface. Inside—

"Another box, huh?" said Shizuka.

"It seems so."

—A single cardboard box. Mother often sent odd gifts with no purpose. Fossilized dragon teeth, heroic manuscripts, so on and so forth. Once in a blue moon, however, something truly splendid came in the mail. A house-cleaning tsukumogami, old world cookbooks, items of that sort.

I tried to open the cardboard box, but several layers of packaging tape kept it shut. I picked up Mother's letter and poured reiki into it. The paper stiffened and sharpened. Next I cut through the tape. Or rather, I started doing so.

Why is there so much tape?!

The exalted Satou Shibuya couldn't stand this sort of packaging. It only prolonged the unpackaging process. Furthermore, it made the package look increasingly suspicious. My movements turned frantic, an attempt to speed up the process—

"—Ow."

Blood dripped onto the table below.

I dropped my Mother's letter and turned my right hand over. A lengthy cut ran across the palm. Nothing serious, but the wound looked quite bad. Golden reiki gathered at my core. The bleeding stopped, but the cut itself didn't close. The King's regalia deemed my wound inconsequential.

"How annoying," I said.

Shizuka grabbed my wrist. "Hey, Satou!"

"I'm fine, fear not. It hurts, but this isn't a bad wound. Actually, can this be called a wound? Tis but a scratch, sister dearest. A Satou Shibuya without problem solving skills has no value. Give me a moment, I can easily fix damage of this variety—"

"I'll grab the first-aid kit."

Shizuka left the room before I could stop her With nothing left to do, I focused on the cardboard box. Curiousity overwhelmed me. Tape couldn't hold me back, I wanted to see Mother's gift.

I opened the box with my left hand. The object inside felt cool and metallic. I carefully retrieved the item. After all, Shizuka wouldn't be happy if she returned to a second wound on my other hand.

What have we here?

Mother's gift looked like part of a shattered blade. It might've been the lighting, but I swore it shone with a pale glow. I turned the metallic chunk until something caught my eye. Odd letters were etched onto the blade's side, a language I couldn't understand.

Shizuka returned to the room, first-aid kit in hand. "Okay, I'm back. Paw."

I held my hand out and Shizuka wrapped my cut. Her quick and precise movements put her experience on display. In the past, before I fully grasped my ability, Shizuka wrapped my wounds. Kei used to do the same. I doubted the latter remembered, but I didn't dwell on that.

"B-By the way," I said, "I have a question."

"Hit me. Not literally."

I frowned. "I wouldn't— no, I refuse to get sidetracked. I've unearthed Mother's gift from the bowels of tape and cardboard. This chunk of metal, it seems. There's an inscription on it, but I can't read it. You're cultured, what does this say?"

My sister leaned in close. Her gaze narrowed.

"Is it something weird?" I asked.

Shizuka nodded. She recited the inscription.

-S0019-

"Balmung," I repeated once more.

Shizuka said Balmung, a name we both knew. From the bathtub's warm confines, I better digested the information I'd acquired. Thinking in a warm bath felt like the easiest of tasks. So easy, in fact, that I'd already gotten sidetracked. A bad sign, which made me get back on topic.

Balmung- one of Dragonslayer Gram's many names. It fell under a dwindling list of weapons known as demonslayer tools. Holy Sword Excalibur, Mountain Wheel Caladbolg, so on and so forth. I didn't concern myself with these out of reach existences.

Only one demonslayer tool mattered to me: Crimson Muramasa.

I frowned. "Wait, Muramasa?"

Keiko Kusanagi... no, Kei's face came to mind, but I brushed it aside. Mother's gift felt infinitely more important. It couldn't possibly be a fragment of Dragonslayer Gram, which already had a wielder: that man. The nature of Mother's gift further escaped my grasp.

"It might be a replica," I said to myself. "My Bigwig mirrors Caladbolg, and Mother might've done the same with Gram. If that's the case, why send us a fragment? Is she showing off?"

More questions cropped up, nothing truly new. Still, I hugged my knees to my chest. Relaxation came fast within warm waters. New ideas would surface provided I sat there. Honestly, the wonders of bathing couldn't be understated.

That's how it should be, yet...

A strange feeling assailed me, one I couldn't place. No matter how I tried, I couldn't relax. I didn't feel an immediate threat, nor did I feel pressured. I thought about the matter and, after a moment, returned to the topic of Crimson Muramasa.

"Kei, is it?"

Her name escape my lips, but the person held no power over me. Her clan's profession lingered on my mind: demonslaying. Perhaps I couldn't get it out of my head because of Fran Fairchild. She sought to gather promising recruits for Karatsuba. An admirable cause indeed.

Many of the people I knew had relations to demonslaying. Kei, Shizuka, Genjou, that man... and one more person. I recalled the form of a certain flame-haired girl, much too spontaneous for her own good. A frustrated sigh left my mouth.

Akane Akasaka once more haunted me.

Satou Shibuya felt no affection towards Akane Akasaka. The mere thought of her drained the life out of me, yet I couldn't get her out of my head. I wasn't a fool, I already knew. We were two different people following two different paths. Akane Akasaka moved on.

And soon—

"I left your clothes in the basket." My sister's voice came through the bathroom door.

"E-Erm, thank you."

It took me a moment, but I slipped back into my normal persona. I reclined within the bathtub and the surrounding water overflowed onto the bathroom floor. Like this, things returned to normal. Like this, I wouldn't stress myself out.

"What's up? You sound unhappy," said Shizuka.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah."

I shrugged my shoulders, though Shizuka couldn't see it. "It's your imagination, sister dearest. The exalted Satou Shibuya is trying hard to fill his daily happiness quota, but it's fairly difficult. It conflicts with my established archetype. You understand, don't you?"

"What archetype do you even fit into? You might be the damsel-in-distress heroine archetype, you know? If you get kidnapped, I'll know what happened— oi, why the killing intent?!"

"I wonder, I wonder."

Still, a character archetype for myself? A difficult topic indeed. Being the closest person to the subject matter, I felt like my opinion might come across as biased. Perhaps Shizuka wouldn't mind? Either way, I threw my hat into the lot.

"I'm the powerful sort of character, I think."

I heard Shizuka's sigh. "What, is that your sole defining trait? That's no good, my cute little brother. Everyone needs a little something something. Jeez, you'll become one-dimensional at this rate. Mom'd throw a fit, you know?"

"Fear not, I'll develop by the end of the game."

"Oi, what game are you talking about?"

I shrugged. "I'll get a giant robot too."

"We're a mecha game?!"

And so, another day passed in the Shibuya household.