PART ONE, CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: "SPARK"

-THE GOLDEN BOY & THE INNER CITY-

By the time I had gotten on the train home, the sky had turned dim, the sun having begun its slow descent towards the distant horizon to the west. As per usual, I stood alone in the middle of the train aisle. Crowded as my surroundings were, none dared linger in the one meter gulf around me—this had always been the case, no matter how the exalted Satou S. Shibuya presented himself. Thus, peculiar as it were, I had long since grown used to having ample space during public transit. Today I used the opportunity as a moment's respite to consider what came next.

It was within my best interest, I reasoned, to head to the Gekko District as soon as possible. There were a number of foes I sought to face. Though I had bought a respectable two month's worth of time to find this so-called Junko Shiranui, the Principal's terms had more than placed a dent in the amount I had to spare. This meant that my chief priority would be budgeting my time. Far from the most troublesome issue, especially for a natural genius such as myself. No, the two issues I considered proved vastly more troublesome than any conflict of scheduling.

The first, the nature of my current weakness: backlash. A surface diagnostic of my ability's current condition gave insight into the status of its four aspects. Reinforcement—offline. Optimization—offline. Reversion—emergency standby, but effectively offline. The sole aspect I could call upon was Alteration, having booted in an incomplete state without Reinforcement to maintain and Optimization to correct. Without this triangle of functions, Reversion, a sub-branch of Alteration, could not achieve full boot.

Optimization will surely come online next. Next, Reinforcement will follow. Then finally, Reversion. But how long will that take, I wonder?

My recovery felt slower than usual. El-ahrairah had gone into slumber, no doubt the result of forcing itself to maximum output during our earlier bout. Ironic as it was, I tended to shorten the process through slow, constant reversion. This was the source of Satou S. Shibuya's regenerative abilities, but such proved... troublesome this time. Though I loathed to admit it, this was undeniably the weakest state I had ever found myself in. This issue sat in direct relation to the second.

"Sister dearest will be absolutely furious," I murmured. Just the thought made me shiver.

After the train pulled into station, I started on my way home. There was an unfamiliar chill to the air. It had always been there, my ability simply mitigated the harshness. It was for this reason my eyes darted to the various stores on the usual trek to and from home, considering perhaps any excuse to briefly step in and warm up my hands. Perserverence fought off the cold until two blocks away from my home, when the warmth radiating off of a brightly lit establishment managed to sway me.

There, to my left, stood a building the size of a convenience store. Below a green and white-striped awning that overlooked the entrance, nestled close to the display window, I spotted a tall rack of assorted pastries and other baked goods. These were no doubt meant to seduce the stomachs of passerbys. Next to them, a taped-on flyer that advertised a discount on delectables to be eaten on the go. It featured a rather poor drawing of a boy and a girl in a school uniform, and included such 'goodies' as pretzels, muffins, and an assortment of different buns.

Far from my first choice, but no matter.

I placed a hand on the chilly metal handle and pulled the door open. Warmth carrying the scent of butter, vanilla, and all manner of baking neccessities greeted me. Though my exalted self's taste in confections tended towards chocolate-dipped fruits and coffee-flavoured treats, there was indeed something to be said about the mouthwatering atmosphere a half-decent bakery presented. In this sense, I gave the business full marks.

The second matter which greeted me was a golden-haired woman behind the counter, who acknowledged my entrance with a cursory glance, a quirk of the brow, followed by a disinterested welcome. Literally. "Welcome," she said.

What immense pressure!

Store clerks were surely among the most powerful warriors in the world, for the mere thought of interacting with them was enough to raise tensions. Unwilling to turn down the challenge, I approached the front desk. Straight posture, clear speech, unbroken eye contact- these were the basic tenets of human interaction, especially when engaging with a worthy foe such as this.

"I am interested in purchasing something," I stated.

As if in response to this act of defiance, the woman seemed to train her eyes on me. In that singular instant, I felt all of the pressure in the universe bearing down from above. The world seemed to slow as I traced the movements of my opponent. The customer service smile that spread across their face, the straightening of their back; any lesser existence would have passed out in an instant. A bead of cool sweat rolled down the back of my neck as I awaited their response.

"What would you like?" she asked.

"Two pieces of tiramisu."

"Will that be all?"

Those words alone sent a chill down my spine, but I would not be defeated so easily. I nodded, and when prompted about payment, retrieved a glossy, black card from the wallet in my uniform blazer's leftmost inner pocket. It was but an instant, but it felt as if eons had passed in the span of a second. Once the card went through, the woman turned to retrieve that which I was owed from a display case at her back. That slow, lumbering movement, as if preparing to strike, I dared not underestimate it. But despite my best efforts, things would not go smoothly.

It became immediately clear that all was not in order, for the woman briefly looked over the glass display's contents. She closed its lid without retrieving anything from within. Such an immediate shift in power saw me retreat, but only a single step. I could not be bested. The woman turned to face me once more, her hands clasped in destructive gesture of apology. "Sorry, just a second."

The woman disappeared into the back, granting me a moment of much needed respite. Store clerks, cashiers, and the like had all proved worthy foes, yet this one in particular seemed far more potent that the others. I surmised this to be the result of my weakened state. I assuredly would not lose, but it would be a close battle if it dragged on any longer. I steeled my heart. When she returned, I would end this foolish bout once and for all. That was what it meant to be the strongest.

And yet, how long had it been? I felt my fatigue build as I watched, waited for my foe's surprise attack. This was the tactic they had chosen, to pray that I would run out of stamina before they did. A logical decision. As powerful as my foe was, they must have recognized the definitive gap in power between us. If I was nearing my limit, then my opponent had long since reached theirs. Yes, of course. It had all been a clever ruse to conserve strength while I wasted my own. What splended tactical prowess.

Even still, my victory is assured.

Several moments passed before my enemy returned to the room... no, this foe was different?! The haste of their movements, the thunderous boom of their steps- I conceded that this enemy's brilliance far surpassed my expectations. To use oneself to wear down the divine might of my exalted self, who reigned unchallenged in heaven and earth, in hopes of weakening my assault for those who would follow. A selfless tactic, but a wise one all the same.

"Apologies, this is among our most popular items," spoke the new arrival.

They placed a small, white, paper box down on the countertop. Within I spotted that which I was due: a pair of small, dark brown confections topped with a thick layer of white cream and shaved chocolate. Victory lay beyond the horizon. I turned my full attention across the divide, where the menacing visage of my newest foe loomed in the warm light. That person's name was...

"Y-Yoshida Yamashina?!" I yelped.

"Hm?"

There stood the golden girl in her natural habitat, plastic bag in one hand and receipt in the other. Shocked as I was, the scene struck me as remarkably fitting. She hastily bagged both receipt and paper box before she finally glanced in my direction. Her expression cycled through surprise, then confusion, but she quickly regained her composure. She wordlessly slid the bag with my purchase across the counter. In the same way that I was assessing her, she was perhaps doing the same to me.

In stark contrast to the Yoshida Yamashina I saw at school, from top to bottom, this one presented itself as far more casual. She wore a neat, seafoam green apron above a baggy, dark-red T-shirt that fell over a pair of gray track pants she had rolled up at the ankles. Her usual golden hair, pulled back and kept in place by the checkered scrunchie she so often wore, formed a messy tail at the nape. This, of course, revealed one crucial detail that I had somehow never taken into consideration.

What a shiny forehead!

The two of us stood silent for several seconds. She slowly glanced over my shoulder, and in some odd gesture whose origin I could not place, I retrieved the receipt from my bag and pretended to read it.

"I suppose you're on your way home?" Yamashina was first to speak.

If my presence fazed her, she hid it well. It was only natural to stand strong in one's own abode. Furthermore, I had a battle to finish. The last person I intended to lose to was a stupid lightning dog.

"P-perhaps," I murmured.

"I'd assumed you lived somewhere in the area, but the last place I expected to see you was in our family patisserie. You seemed to imply that our shop wasn't good enough for you."

I puffed out my chest. "As if I, the illustrious and immaculate Satou S. Shibuya, would have any interest in baked goods of a stupid—"

"Wh—no, no, no!" Yamashina stood bolt upright in an odd show of panic. She fell silent for a moment, as if listening for something, then cleared her throat. "S-Shibuya, my family is... very exciteable, and we Raiju enjoy vastly better hearing than even the average superhuman. I would ask that you avoid saying anything that could be taken as inflammatory on these premises." She paused. "Please."

"W-well now, that's very presumptuous of you! I speak only the truth, no matter how harsh it may be! And besides, you have no idea how I intended to finish that sentence."

Yamashina squinted. "Oh. My apologies, please continue."

My mind raced to come up with, no, to remember the kind sentiments that I'd so clearly intended to put forth, at least until this average lightning dog of hardworking yet otherwise unexceptional lineage had so rudely interrupted. From the depths of this deep, almost meditative trance, I watched as the look of skepticism on the golden girl's face grew more and more deep-set.

"As I was saying, I have no interest in the baked goods of a stu- stup-" I gagged, but nevertheless continued. "A stupendous establishment such as this, with a ripe history of service on Niflheim. This indoor environment will more than satisfy my, in retrospect, woefully naive desire to spare my hands from the frigid winds that rolled in as I just so happened to find myself in front of this kind, sufficiently hospitable locale."

She did not seem impressed. "I'm not surprised it took you so much effort to spin together even a compliment as backhanded as that, Shibuya."

I snorted. "As if one such as yourself could ever hope to grasp the the full scope of my kindness. A specific, time-limited brand of kindness that hinges on the questionable curation of my words. Besides, there are far worthier aspects of the day that I could mock. For instance, a certain, unnamed fool lacking the presence of mind to use batteries for their intended purpose."

"T-the purpose of a battery is to supply energy to a wide variety of electronic devices. It's true that this isn't a conventional use," Yamashina opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, atop which nestled a triple-A battery. I held back a disgusted wince at the display, but neverthess observed with mild curiousity until the girl closed her mouth. "But to us Raiju, it is their primary use."

Reluctant as I was to admit it, my interest was somewhat piqued. Not in Yoshida Yamashina, but rather the intricacies of what it meant to lead a sad and unmemorable existence as a stupid lightning dog. "And I'm sure that, regardless of my interest, you will continue to explain. Rejoice, for my exalted self has decided to humour you."

"I... hadn't meant to explain, but if you're interested..."

"Don't put words in my mouth. I never said I was interested, I merely suggested that if you were to speak on the matter, I would grant you but the smallest driblet of my attention." I used my thumb and index finger to demonstrate this, closing both until a half-inch separated them. "Thiiis much."

"Truly?" Yamashina tilted her head. For the briefest moment I thought I saw a smile, but I easily explained this as a trick of the light. "It isn't a very interesting topic, but very well. Do you remember what we touched on in class yesterday during fourth period?"

"Nonhuman characteristics, of course."

Our teacher had touched on the three categories of ability users: superhumans, psychics, and non-humans. As they had explained, superhumans and psychics- Homo dominus and Homo validus, respectively- represented branching paths in human evolution. Uniquely gifted as these species were, they safely remained within the boundaries of the Homo genus. The same could not be said of non-humans. The term itself functioned as an umbrella for all manner of denizenry that modern intellectuals struggled to place.

Yamashina followed along with this line of thought. "As you already know, we Raijuu fall under the category of non-human. Though you and I resemble one another in the most superficial of senses, our bodies vastly differ. To give an example of this, we Raijuu, if we should please, can sustain ourselves on an electrical diet for months before the effects of nutritional deprivation begin to manifest. In this sense, the electrical charge we draw from batteries is a more than sufficient dietary supplement."

"I'd more or less assumed it was something along those lines. Surely this doesn't neccesitate putting them in one's mouth though, does it?" I asked.

"That is simply not the case. It's true that physical contact is all that's technically required to begin draining electricity from a source, but it's very much the bare minimum." Yamashina lifted her right hand, allowing blue arcs to jump from finger to finger. "Our hide... skin, rather, is highly resistant to electricity, so charging through it is far from the most efficient method. We are taught from youth that the best way to charge is through our mouths, which are far less resistant."

"How very, very dog-like," I murmured. The explanation made logical sense, save for one aspect that did not strike me as consistent: their skin. "If, as you say, your skin's resistance is so high, how do you manage to discharge electricity through it? For instance, during your bout with Gen- Gekkouhara."

"Oh, the encounter on the school's roof?"

"Of course."

"That... is a lot simpler than you might think. Our skin is not one-hundred percent resistant, and by discharging a disproportionately large amount of voltage, a fraction of it- at least twenty-five percent- manages to escape the body, where I can direct it. This is because a Raijuu's hair is comprised chiefly of various conductive materials." This aspect she seemed the most interested in explaining, for her eyes seemed to light up. "Raijuu have two types of hairs: gold hairs that store electricity outside the body, and silver hairs that hold much stronger charges."

W-What a mundane explanation.

At the very least, this explained the mysterious golden hair attributed to Raijuu, but I could not help feeling cheated with how little fanfare she had revealed it. Regardless, I was keen to try and mimick these hairs when I found the opportunity. If a stupid mutt could conjure such vast electrical discharges, then it stood to reason that I, in all of my immaculate splendor, could do so far better.

"How foolish, the electrical powers of a Raijuu are nothing so complex as I initially suspected." I puffed out my chest. "In the end, you're nothing more than a battery that won't learn its place," I said.

Yamashina continued as if I hadn't spoke. "Yes, as I was saying, our silver hairs sustain damage far more easily if we don't care for them. They grow back quickly, so the worry mostly pertains to older hairs that linger past shedding season. As far as brushes are concerned, I believe the most reliable brand is-"

Wait, there's more?!

The golden girl's prattling covered a wider array of topics, many of which I cared very little for; the importance of exercise in maintaining a good complexion, shampooing agents that were optimal for preserving the strength of metallic compounds, and other worthless tidbits. It was as she began her lecture on preventing hair splinters that the door behind the counter swung open, and the initial golden-haired cashier returned from her earlier disappearance. She pocketed an expensive mobile phone then started to speak.

"Yoshida, I'll take over-" She paused, her eyes darting to the smaller golden girl, then to me, and finally to the space at my back. I peered over my shoulder, where a small line of three people greeted me. If I had any doubts as to the reason she clicked her tongue, they would have disappeared the instant she strutted over to shove the younger girl aside. The older Yamashina's eyes trained on me. "Excuse me, I need to serve the people behind you."

"V-very well." I was quick to make way for the clearly frustrated customers at my back.

"Oh," said Yoshida Yamashina.

The younger Yamashina turned a wary eye to her archetype. I heaved a sigh of relief at the thought that I might finally be free, but this proved naive. The golden girl stuck an arm into the corridor from whence her better had emerged and retrieved a familiar black and white cow-print blazer, which she slid on. She gestured for me to follow her, then stepped outside. Reluctant as I was to exit into the frigid winds outside, I had no intention of loitering. I scooped up my purchase in my arms and followed after her.

Outside, the sky had already started to darken. I had spent perhaps thirty minutes in the Yamashina establishment, though it'd already been late during my return home. This meant that compared to before, the air had gotten much colder. I crossed my arms, half a display of pride but primarily a means to keep my teeth from chittering. To my right, standing a little ways off from the front entrance, Yamashina hailed me once more.

"I should apologize for the scene," she said.

I triumphantly raised my nose at the girl. "Fear not, it's only natural that a stupid lightning dog would lose track of something as trivial as the customers in their own store."

Yamashina frowned. "That was faster than I expected."

"Whatever you expected was foolish. So? Why did you call me out here, mutt?"

"That... is a very good question, actually. I hadn't finished talking, so it made sense to continue elsewhere. I'm starting to see now, though, that you have no interest in continuing."

"Oh? I suppose those dog-like senses of yours have their uses every so often. Would you like a treat? Shall I scratch you behind the ears? Bark once for yes, twice for no."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know, get it all out of your system."

I gave a dismissive wave. "You seem to underestimate my restraint. I'm being quite merciful, you see. If I dared shower you with even a modicum of what I kept to myself, you would assuredly weep far more than you had earlier. Hmph."

This statement elicited no immediate response from the golden girl. She met my gaze for a moment, then glanced at the intersection down the street, where traffic had vastly thinned out compared to earlier in the day. There was a moment's silence before she leaned back against the patisserie's display window. An uncharacteristically soft sigh came from her lips.

"I put on a disgraceful display, didn't I," said Yamashina.

I felt a peculiar twinge in my chest, though I failed to place its origin. It did bring to mind a question I hadn't considered: why had she cried, anyway? Logic dictated that she did so because she had failed me, and thus, those tears had been to appease my wrath. This was the reasoning that made the most sense, but I felt a mild suspicion. As if I had... perhaps misread the gesture. Unlikely. I would even venture to say impossible. The question had no purpose. Thus, asking it was a waste of time.

"Yes, it was a disgrace. An absolute waste of the admittedly trace amounts of faith I had placed in your success. It was my mistake to assume that your odds of besting Gekkouhara had ever strayed from the zeroth percentile." I clicked my tongue at the thought. "Honestly, what a mistake!"

She wordlessly nodded.

"That said," I averted my gaze, "I highly doubt that you respect my authority enough to weep for it, mutt. If you intend to throw a childish tantrum in my presence, the minimum level of presentation you should afford me is explaining the nature of your stupid lightning dog turmoils."

I did not turn my head to see her response. I had no interest in doing so. Such paltry worries hardly warranted my attention, after all, so I afforded only the smallest amount of focus to what she said next.

"I... had wanted to showcase my strengths as the Zeta candidate, so I was initially quite interested in the exercise. My original intent had been to defeat you, to prove that your besting me in the Student Council Office had been a fluke. Though I know now that it was no such thing," she said.

"Of course."

"When it was revealed we would face another class with powerful fighters, I instead shifted my priorities towards Gekkouhara. The Beta seat is granted only to the most nimble of fighters. We Raijuu are fast, and I, a candidate for the Zeta, convinced myself that if I could even approach the Beta's speed, if I could simply strike him with sufficient voltage, that I would definitely be able to claim victory. That... was a very rude assumption, I think.

"I thought the results of my hard work would manifest against him. I psyched myself up, claiming that I had struck him once, and that all I needed was another blow. But after our final match, I realized that it wasn't just his speed. Strong, ruthless, but undeniably skilled. Genjou Gekkouhara... he has surely worked harder than me to claim the right to his seat.

"That I had not understood this until the very end, the fact that I had unknowingly underestimated him... I disgraced not just myself, but the brave heroes that came before us. I'm sure that they worked hard to become so strong. Harder than me, at least, to protect this world from demons." She gave a loud, exasperated sigh. "I was so arrogant, I wanted to punch myself!"

I snorted. "What a stupid reason."

"Perhaps, but it helped me realize that I have to work even harder. Power doesn't simply fall into a person's lap. It is the culmination of hard work and perserverence. Gekkouhara worked hard to become the Beta, and I'm sure that you worked just as hard in pursuit of the Alpha seat. It all fell into place in my head. There's no way I would be able to best you, the Golden King, in my current state."

At this statement, I tensed up. I turned to glance at the golden-haired girl, who had uttered my most precious secret so casually. I became a stuttering mess as I attempted to formulate a response to this accusation.

"I... I d-don't know what you're talking about. A, a normal, everyday student such as myself? The Golden King? A-as if such a thing could be true," I stammered.

"You and Gekkouhara, the Silver Knight, he called himself, were... particularly loud during your verbal spat on the roof. If you thought I hadn't heard, you're doing a disservice to the impeccable hearing of a Raijuu." She stated this with a hint of unprecedented smarm in her voice.

"S-surely you don't believe that snake."

"Truth or not, it doesn't change anything."

The golden girl turned to face me, and reluctantly, I to her. Her sharp, golden eyes swept up and down my form, as if assessing something. Not my true nature- she had already seen past my charade. Once she finished, she gave a small nod. Her eyes upward, to meet mine, and she retrieved her right hand from the pocket of her windbreaker. She stepped forward, her hand closed into a fist, and pressed it against my chest without consent.

"Certainly you're out of my league for now, Shibuya, but I'll catch up to you one day. Perhaps not this year, or even the next. In truth, we may have already passed the enlistment examination when that time comes. We might have grown into respectable adults, pledging our futures to protect this world like the courageous heroes that did so before us." The golden girl stated thus.

I scowled but did not retaliate. She scarcely knew my plans for the future. "If you believe we'll meet again after the enlistment examination, you're assuredly the biggest fool in all of the known universe."

"Perhaps so. But if that time comes, I'll have risen through the ranks and claimed the pinnacle for myself. I'll have defeated far more demons than you, or even Gekkouhara. And when that happens, Shibuya. When I've become stronger, you'll have to get over taking battlefield orders from a stupid lightning dog, you obnoxious megalomaniac."

How impertinent.

I wanted to avert my gaze, but I could not tear my eyes away from her. There was a cool glint in her eyes- nothing I said in this instant would get under her skin. I forced a sneer. Perhaps she misread this, but I assuredly saw it this time—a wide smile spread across Yoshida Yamashina's face. She underestimated the amount of 'effort' it would take to approach the pinnacle, to stand at the top as the strongest. Or perhaps she knew and simply did not care. Either answer served as a gross act of immodesty in the presence of one such as myself, the illustrious and immaculate Satou S. Shibuya. It was only natural that I respond in kind.

I grabbed the wrist of the fist that she pressed against my chest and brushed it aside. The mere thought of touching such a filthy hand drew an frustrated sigh from my lips. I stepped forward to meet my foe on similar terms. This made one crucial detail abundantly clear—she was shorter than me, almost a full head so. She was a stupid mutt and woefully outclassed. I would make sure she knew.

"I'll be sure to thoroughly crush that ambition of yours," I warned.

"Yes, I wouldn't have it any other way."

With this, the two of us parted ways. She returned to the warmth of her home. I continued on my way. The day had been complicated, and it only seemed to get more so. I clicked my tongue, uncomfortable with the heat that had taken root in my chest.