“What’s this all about? Why am I not allowed inside?! The patient is seriously injured!”
Doctors and patients’ relatives had been jostling in front of the hospital rooms for a while now.
An Aso Miyaji hospital. Miike Haruya had been carried into one of the rooms there. He’d been injured in the explosion of Hokage’s power. He had entrusted the affair’s resolution to Chiaki and had been brought here by ambulance.
Even before receiving first aid, Haruya had hurriedly instructed his uncle Tatsuya and others to shut out all non-blood relations from the hospital room. Even the doctors and nurses were locked out, resulting in a great commotion. Young Celebrants barricaded the corridors.
In the hospital room were his uncle Tatsuya and his uncle’s sons, Haruya’s cousins Norihiko and Tokihiko. Haruya was sitting up in bed, staring at a small altar installed on the floor.
A flame burned in a furnace cordoned off by a warding rope. A round mirror had been placed in front of him—the one formerly enshrined in the main hall of Frost Shrine
. The flame had been lit from the head house’s sacred fire.
The well-polished mirror reflected the beautiful crimson flame. Haruya and the others stared fixedly at it.
“—Unbelievable...” Tatsuya muttered in a voice that was half sorrowful sigh.
The sacred fire responded to Kihachi and Asara. Just as Chiaki had seen at Bonfire Hall, the mirror showed Haruya what Kihachi and Asara saw. The devastation in Kumamoto was being broadcast to them as if they were watching television. The other two men stared at the mirror in disbelief.
Haruya watched with his brows furrowed deeply with regret.
(Ikeda Katsuya...)
He had met him only once at the funeral. Haruya couldn’t even clearly recall what he looked like.
(Founder of the Himuka cult.)
“I...Onii-san. I think I’d like to ask Uncle Katsuya to look after Tetsuya.”
The last phone call he had ever received from his younger brother had come a week before his death.
“I don’t want Tetsuya to inherit Miike as a dead house. Miike’s mixed blood came from both Himuka and Yamato, and I think there is something we must do; I think we must have a more important role to play.”
At the time, since Haruya had not known anything about the Spirit-Protector’s mission or Asara, he hadn’t had any inkling of what his brother had been trying to say.
“Miike will continue to be a bridge between Himuka and Yamato.”
After brooding over his path, his younger brother seemed to have arrived at Himuka-no-Takeru.
Asara and Mikenu-no-mikoto’s son, Himuka-no-Takeru. He chose to live for his mother—for his mother’s revenge against his father. But to do so was an admission that his birth was an abomination.
Takeru wanted to be loved by his mother.
With his wholehearted yearning to be loved, he decided to live for his mother’s vengeance. That he had been born against his mother’s will made him want to be loved all the more.
But didn’t living thus injure Takeru himself?
Blood, once mixed, could never be separated.
That was why, rather than renouncing his own birth and living for his mother’s hatred, he lived for his future. As the first child of mixed blood, hadn’t Himuka-no-Takeru’s true desire been to live a life in which he could find value in his birth?
(I think it was, Hideya.)
Now he understood what his brother had meant.
“A bridge between two bloods.”
To live for his future, rather than for a past that denied him.
Haruya thought of Hokage and Tetsuya.
“For the future...”
Haruya closed his eyes against the burning city of Kumamoto seared into his retinas. Then he called his uncle’s name.
“Please gather the family at Frost Shrine. All the Miike Celebrants.”
His uncle and cousins looked at him in astonishment.
“Spirit-Protector, what do you intend to do?”
“The time has come for the Miike to truly work.” Haruya felt a calm that was strange even to himself. “I’m issuing an order to all the Celebrants to assemble. Inform everyone immediately.”
The faces of the three men tensed, and they nodded and immediately left the hospital room.
Left behind, Haruya looked again at the sacred mirror. Hokage’s innocent smile appeared within the red of the flames.
(Your futures over the past...)
He closed his eyes as if to harden his resolve. At that moment. A sudden wind blew in the hospital room where no windows were open, and the flames in the furnace swayed wildly from side to side. The wind caressed his cheeks, and Haruya’s eyes popped open.
He caught his breath.
A dim human-shaped shadow was standing in front of the fire. It slowly turned.
It was Enoki Masamichi.
His ghost had appeared before Haruya.
Of course Haruya didn’t know Enoki. Enoki bowed slowly and deeply to Haruya. Haruya’s eyes widened again when he realized that the person in front of him was ‘no longer a person at all.’
“You’re...”
Kiyomasa and Tetsuya were being pursued.
It was already too late when they realized that Ootomo had set up a checkpoint at Tateno, the entrance to Aso. Asara and the others had entered Aso from the air, so it hadn’t caught them, but that didn’t apply to Kiyomasa and Tetsuya on the ground.
Ootomo had erected a barricade near Tateno Shrine on National Highway 57, blocking traffic for ordinary people. The moment Kiyomasa and Tetsuya tried to break through, they became intruders. They were immediately pursued, and a relentless high-speed chase drama began.
They made it to the Akamizu area, but were unable to plow through, and soon found themselves in a street battle.
“Shit! We have no time for this!”
Their pursuers were onryou. Some were on horseback, others flying through the air after them. Kiyomasa, riding the motorcycle like a maniac, swung his single-sided sickle spear in a one-handed grip to fend off the onryou swarm.
“Fuck off, Ootomo!”
Ootomo had been moving in Aso even as the battle had unfolded in the city. Mitsuhide tried to mobilize his Aso-stationed troops, but received no response at all. Perhaps they had been attacked when a large-scale advance toward the city had left the rest vulnerable. If Tateno was seized, Ootomo as good as held Aso.
(What the hell is Ootomo up to...?!)
The swarm around them mushroomed, preventing maneuvering, and Kiyomasa and Tetsuya were thrown onto the road.
“Guh!”
Kiyomasa managed to adopt a defensive posture, but Tetsuya’s back slammed into the concrete ditch.
The onryou attacked without mercy. He immediately unsheathed the sacred sword and swung it about.
“I don’t have time to play around with you! ...Guh!”
Five or six spirits threw themselves at him mercilessly. Tetsuya was sent flying; the attack was so ferocious that he was left at the mercy of the onryou without chance for counterattack. Kiyomasa had his hands full protecting himself, and he had no breath to spare for helping Tetsuya.
Tetsuya felt so pathetic for not being able to hold his own that he sobbed.
(I’m just a liability.)
“Uwaugh!”
“Tetsuya!”
A spirit’s ramming blow sent Tetsuya’s sword flying out of his hand. An onryou on horseback swung a large spear directly down at Tetsuya, now unarmed...!
“Eeek!”
He was going to be killed! He covered his face.
There came a strange war-cry from behind him.
(What...?!)
A large mass of black fur sailed over Tetsuya’s head and landed right in front of him. At first he thought it was a large cat. But it was too big to be a cat. What had appeared was a large beast. A beast of prey. Its black fur glowed silver in the light. —Tetsuya inadvertently caught his breath.
(Isn’t that...a panther?)
A flesh-and-blood panther. What was it doing here?!
Hearing screams, Kiyomasa also turned.
(That’s...!)
As if rousing its fighting spirit, the panther roared loudly once more.
Tetsuya gasped. He recalled that he’d seen one at the city zoo once as a little boy when his parents had taken him. It had probably escaped due to the chaos in the city, he was thinking, when the supple muscles of the beast stretched like rubber. It attacked the onryou swarming against Tetsuya ferociously and without hesitation. The onryou screamed.
(Is he protecting me?)
“Interesting, I didn’t know there were panthers in Aso!” Kiyomasa said as his loudly-humming spear mowed down the onryou around him. Mitsuhide turned back to protect Kiyomasa and Tetsuya. The panther was a real panther. But it was no mere animal, and its fangs most certainly made the onryou its prey. That panther was—
(Possessed.)
By whom? Kiyomasa wondered, but he had no room to investigate. After a fierce battle, Kiyomasa and Mitsuhide managed to eliminate the Ootomo onryou. The black panther crushed the last with its jaws and approached as if to say that it was on their side.
“The shikigami is gone,” Mitsuhide tsked. —Their means of tracking Asara was gone. “Let’s split up. There’s something else that worries me.”
“All right. But why did this panther...? Mm?”
He noticed Tetsuya’s silence. Tetsuya seemed to have sunk into self-loathing.
“What’s up, oi. What happened to your earlier spirit?”
Tetsuya limply lowered his sword and sighed feebly. He seemed ashamed of his inability to fight.
“Get a grip, this was nothing! Keep your head up, damn it!”
“Easy for you to say.”
“You need to keep up your fighting spirit! You can’t save your sister like that!”
(If I can at least stand on the same level as Ougi and Nezu...)
Then maybe he could save Hokage.
Tetsuya gnashed his teeth. The black panther suddenly growled again and stared ahead. What’s going on? Tetsuya wondered. The panther looked over his shoulder and let out a peculiar cry, as if to say, “Follow me.” Then it kicked off the ground and broke into a run.
“Maybe it’s found Hokage!”
“We need to go after it immediately! I’ll leave the rest to you, Akechi-dono!”
Kiyomasa rushed to his motorcycle, pulled it upright, quickly mounted it, and started chasing after the panther with Tetsuya in tow.
Meanwhile, elsewhere—
As instructed by Haruya, Aso-based Miike Celebrants steadily assembled at Frost Shrine in Yakuin Field, which was not a large space by any means. There were about 50 to 60 of them. It looked exactly as if they were gathering for the bonfire ritual. Upon receiving the news, the Takachiho Celebrants rushed to make the trip as well. Among them was the son of the ‘Tomb-Protector’—she who had concealed Hokage.
A fire was kindled on the grounds under Haruya’s direction. The sacred fire from the festival was used.
The doors of the shrine were thrown open and an altar installed, as during the festival.
What’s happening? The crowd muttered uneasily. The shrine grounds was filled with a strange tension as the leadership, called Gatherers, frantically scurried about. And no wonder: The Spirit-Protector only issued the order to assemble in the event of a major emergency. Such a thing had not happened for centuries.
“Miike Celebrants must wholeheartedly support the head house for their entire lives and put their lives on the line if needed.”
That was what Tetsuya’s grandmother had told him. This was the Celebrant spirit that had been handed down from parent to child and from child to grandchild through the generations. That was the spirit in which everyone was raised from infancy.
The congregation had come in the white haori they wore during festivals. They lined up neatly in order of proximity to the head house lineage to wait for the Spirit-Protector to arrive.
Haruya arrived shortly thereafter. He was in no condition to be discharged from the hospital, but he had forced his way out.
“Can you walk, Haruya?”
When Tatsuya helped him out of the car, Haruya was dressed in the Shinto priest robes he wore for the bonfire ritual.
“I’m fine. I can walk on my own.”
He calmly brushed off Tatsuya’s hand and began to walk through the Celebrants toward the shrine. Everyone watched him with bated breath. They had all heard of the incident at Bonfire Hall. Tension rose. Haruya slowly went up the shrine steps and cast his gaze over the assemblage.
Beside him, flames rose high into the winter sky.
“Thank you for coming, everyone,” Haruya quietly said. “I called for this gathering because an incident which has grave implications for the Miike family has occurred. I am going to tell you everything about what has happened. I would like you to listen carefully to what I am about to say.”
The gathering held their breaths as they stared at Haruya and listened, there in the cold wind.
“Celebrants, once you have heard what I have to say, I hope you will lend me your power,” Haruya said urgently. “What I am about to tell you concerns the survival of our family. It is no longer something I can decide alone. If any of you has objections, please say so. I want all of you to make a choice. But I can’t give you much time to consider. ...I want you to choose the path that is right for our family.”
His uncles looked at Haruya with grim resolve.
“I would like to share my thoughts with you.”
There was not a whisper from those assembled. The Celebrants had lived their lives in obedience to the Spirit-Protector. Haruya looked at each of their faces and began to talk about everything that had happened, as well as the Spirit-Protector’s mission and all it entailed.
As he spoke, Haruya thought back to his encounter with a certain spirit earlier—the spirit of Enoki Masamichi.
Enoki had expressed his willingness to help if Haruya required it. If the family needed the power of the secret magicks of Himuka, he would perform them immediately. Perhaps it would allow him to atonement for his sins. After telling him of Yasuo’s betrayal, Enoki had left it up to the Miike clan to decide.
“I believe we should rise up,” Spirit-Protector Miike Haruya pronounced. “My strength will probably run out before the end, but I still want to try. I am the Spirit-Protector. If anything should happen, I must make provisions. Therefore I would like to name the next Spirit-Protector.”
“The next Spirit-Protector...!”
There was a stir on the shrine grounds for the first time. His uncles looked at Haruya with surprise.
“You mean your successor, Haruya? Who?”
Haruya quietly cast his eyes downward.
The time for choosing came to a end. The decision was soon made.
The sacred fire was used to light the furnace installed at the center of the shrine altar. Himuka magic used the ‘power of fire’.
Strange words spilled out of Haruya’s mouth as he sat in front of the altar. It was a foreign language, the meaning of which could not be grasped in Japanese. It was the language of the people of Himuka, now lost. However, this secret spell could not be cast at a moment’s notice, even by the Spirit-Protector. A certain man had possessed Haruya and was now performing the ritual.
The torches wavered.
The secret spell had begun.
Meanwhile, Yasuo and the other bird-people had finally managed to evade Oda’s helicopter squadron and had found a cave-like hollow in the bluffs of the outer rim.
“Faith-Protector, we can hide in there!”
“Damn it...!”
They plunged straight inside. They were on the verge of total exhaustion and couldn’t fly any further. They had reached the limit of their stamina.
The bird-people gasped for breath. They had been flying all day, and there had been the mid-air fight on top of that. All their reserves were spent, and with the exception of Yasuo, they collapsed as soon as they landed in the cave. Besides Yasuo, Tokuyama and Harada were the only ones left. Osamu had crashed after being shot, and they didn’t know what had happened to him.
“They’ll probably come after us again. Harada, Tokuyama, guard the entrance,” Yasuo exhorted, then quickly unbuckled his belt and used it to tie their hostage Takaya’s hands behind his back. “Don’t use «power». If I see even the slightest sign, I’ll scorch your internal organs black on the spot.”
“...What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“You’re our precious ‘container’, and you will submit with good grace.”
Takaya’s eyes were cold. He didn’t particularly struggle.
He looked at his left hand, which was tied behind his back. The injuries sustained in his fight with Nobunaga had bled a surprising amount; was it because of the blood loss that he felt so cold? The more he regained consciousness, the more the pain from his wounds tightened his heart. Takaya had no choice but to endure. At least his wounds had stopped bleeding thanks to the luminous flame stone. It didn’t seem like he could move his blood-soaked left hand for the time being, though.
(I can’t form a ritual gesture.)
It was a death blow for a mantra-user, Takaya thought. He couldn’t perform «exorcisms» if he couldn’t form the ritual gesture. Nobunaga must have targeted his hand with this in mind.
Heaving for breath, Yasuo sat in front of Takaya hugging his legs. He buried his face against his knees. His face was pale as ashes, his eyes dazed. He wouldn’t be able to move unless he rested for a while. That was the impression he gave.
Yasuo gnashed his teeth.
“Damn it. If I had just a little more power—just that little bit more...” He slammed his fist several times against bare rock. “As soon as I can fly, I’ll go looking for Asara. Immediately.”
He’d been able to save Kihachi’s head, but Asara was essential. Without her, there was no point. Was she safe? Was she alive? He wanted to fly out immediately, but his body couldn’t keep pace with his impatience.
“It’ll be fine. Asara is more powerful than us.”
“That’s right. She’ll be okay, Faith-Protector.”
Tokuyama and Harada’s baseless platitudes didn’t convince Yasuo. Asara had finally appeared—for her to die because of something like this would be unbelievable. Something so stupid couldn’t be possible. Yasuo glared at Takaya as if looking for a place to vent his anger.
“Do you know who that man in the helicopter was?”
Takaya didn’t know Shiba, but he had seen the face of the boy-pilot in passing: unmistakably Mori Ranmaru.
“Lord Nobunaga intends to obtain Kihachi’s head.”
Takaya knew—there was no way he didn’t know—the enemy he had fought for so long. He’d seen the eyes of the red-haired man who had dived from the helicopter for only an instant, but that had been enough. As far as he knew, there existed only one man in the world with such arrogant eyes.
(Is that what Nobunaga looks like in this life?)
“You were the one who pushed Onpachi-sama’s head out of the enemy’s hands just now, wasn’t it, Ougi Takaya? I suppose that red-haired man is no friend of yours, but is he an enemy? Is he an onshou?”
“Who knows...I didn’t recognize him.”
“Don’t play dumb with me! He’s one of Motoharu Kikkawa’s allies, isn’t he! He was trying to steal the head!”
Takaya asked quizzically, “—Why do you think that?”
“They’re the only ones who know about Kihachi’s head besides us.”
“I thought you and Motoharu were allies.”
Yasuo suddenly began to choose his words very carefully, as if he had something to hide. With increasing suspicion Takaya surveyed the three men again.
“I don’t see your leader—Enoki or something. Where’d he go?”
“Enoki-san...is dead.”
“What?”
“He was dropped for being an unfit Faith-Protector. I’m the new leader. The Himuka cult has been reborn as the true Himuka cult.”
Takaya frowned a little, his eyes still cold. Yasuo’s rather pompous attitude caught his attention.
“Did you—kill him?”
“He was too close to Yamato and was not worthy to be our leader.”
He seemed to have no sense of guilt. Yasuo’s eyes looked inhuman.
“You don’t seem to know, so let me tell you. The Kihachi tribe has excelled in the field of spiritual science since ancient times. We possess various divine skills that transcend material civilization, such as the method of flight and the crystallization of the spiritual power of the volcano. In other words, we are a people close to the gods. The Kihachi tribe, who had little taste for war, were subjugated by the barbarism of the Yamato race.”
Yasuo’s narrative became more heated.
“The ethnic value of the Himuka race is much higher. In other words, our blood is better than yours. It’s a blood that has value. Which is why we had to keep our blood pure. But inferior Yamato blood has muddied it. The less mud there is in someone’s veins, the higher their class. It is only natural that those who are closer to pure blood should stand above those with inferior blood. That man had more Yamato blood than us. He was not worthy. That’s why we dropped him. It was only natural.”
For a moment Takaya’s eyes remained wide with surprise—then they turned frightening.
(Is this the idea of being a chosen people?)
“That’s absurd—...”
“Absurd? You’re the stupid ones, aren’t you, Yamato? You were trying to push us to the margins of society because you felt threatened by our blood, weren’t you? You were afraid of our strong blood.”
“...What the hell are you talking about?”
“In other words, the Yamatos of the world were unconsciously picking up our scent—the scent of the strong. The mediocre used their strength in numbers to eliminate a handful of geniuses because they want to feel secure. They don’t want to feel intimidated. Because Yamato is afraid of the superior blood of Himuka!”
Dry-eyed, Takaya listened to Yasuo’s passionate speech.
“To prevent the blood of Himuka from being muddied any further, the Himuka will build a Himuka nation and prevent the blood of other peoples from being mixed in! The Himuka will establish our own independent country in Kyuushuu!”
Drunk on his own words, his eyes feverishly wet, Yasuo smiled audaciously.
“To produce a strong nation, it is important to cleanse the blood. We must cull the blood of Yamato and restore the purity of our race!”
Takaya listened cynically, emotions unstirred by the feverish arguments of Yasuo and the others, which, rather than sounding convincing, had the contrary effect of distancing him.
“What are you going to do about it? Are you going to use Kihachi to destroy those you consider to be Yamato?”
“If they resist, we will destroy them. We will gather Onpachi-sama and other people with strong blood and restore the kingdom of Himuka.”
“And you’ll gain independence from Japan? You may have the power to fly, but that doesn’t make you fit to be a minister. At best you’ll be a pretend-king, like a bunch of kids playing make-believe.”
“Th-the people of Himuka will conquer Yamato! Japan will belong to Himuka!”
“Don’t talk about conquest when you don’t even really know what it means.” Takaya shoved the words at him. “You seem to be laboring under a misconception, so I’ll tell you one thing: an onryou is a mass of resentment and hatred. They are nothing but emotion. They cannot create, they cannot build—and certainly not a nation. They only destroy. All they do is to hate. You would be a fool to rely on their power.”
“What...?!”
“Here’s some friendly advice: discard your childish pure-blood delusions now or you’ll regret it. Onryou aren’t looking for groupies. What happens in reality is just unplanned destruction. There will be no revolution. Once it starts, you’ll be caught up in the destruction, and you can forget about your life and the lives of your comrades. I say this for your own good.”
Yasuo’s face flushed. His voice shook as if Takaya were ridiculing him; his complex had been roused by Takaya’s attempt to point out his ignorance.
“D-don’t talk like you know anything. If an onryou is given a body!”
“—And you mean to use mine? This body with its strong Yamato blood?” Takaya’s sneer made Yasuo choke. “What is your criterion for Yamato? If it’s blood density, then from the viewpoint of someone with stronger blood than yours, you’re Yamato—those who, according to your logic, should be subjugated; who must bow down. You are not Kihachi’s friend, but Kihachi’s enemy: the hated enemy. Is that not true?”
“That’s nonsense!” Yasuo retorted angrily. “If you can’t fly, you’re Yamato!”
“Then there’s hardly any of the Kihachi tribe left in this world, is there?” Takaya said without changing his expression. “You still don’t get it, do you? You just want to escape from reality, so you keep inflating your delusion. No matter how persuasive and realistic you make it in your mind, it has no elasticity or weight. The closer your force it to reality, the bigger your tab. When you are driven to the edge, you will sink into the despair of your own weakness.”
Trembling all over, Yasuo glared at Takaya. Takaya frowned as he felt the words he had thrown at Yasuo tightening around the dark place in his own chest.
Chiaki’s cry struck his ears. —No matter how much you say, there is no easy way for words to reach someone whose mind is held so tightly shut.
(Who close their eyes and plug their ears for dear life.)
He gaze became more forceful as he attempted to bear the heaviness of the words of condemnation now directed at himself.
“...That’s right. You can drunkenly try to create your pretend-kingdom as much as you like. You won’t realize until you’re scarred by it. But...” Takaya raised his eyes sharply, “you can’t live in the kind of system that existed in ancient times. You’re people of the modern age to the bone. It will only make you realize how immersed you’ve been in this society even while you’ve complained about your pent-up resentments!”
How dare you!"
“...!”
A shock struck his heart as if he had been pierced by a bolt of lightning. Takaya curled into himself protectively. Heat was again bursting from the luminous flame stone. Takaya’s face contorted as he endured the pain of flames directly searing his heart.
“Does it hurt? That’s what happens when you talk big to us.”
Yasuo stood. He looked coldly down at Takaya, who was panting and moaning. He clenched his fists.
“I’m not running away. I’m going to change things. I’m going to start a revolution. I will revolutionize this country with the power of Onpachi-sama’s head!”
“—Stop...” With sweat beading on his forehead, Takaya wrung out, “What you’re doing isn’t...revolution.... You’re just...murderers.”
“It is revolution! This country will be changed root and branch! By Onpachi-sama’s power!”
“It won’t change... In any case, Kihachi’s onryou...can’t be...what you want it to be...”
“I’ll prove it to you!” Yasuo shouted with bloodshot eyes, feverishly excited. “Don’t underestimate me, Yamato. I have this head in my hands! I don’t take orders from you. You’re a pushover. Even without Asara, this head makes me invincible!”
“!”
Takaya’s eyes widened. Tokuyama and Harada also spun. Yasuo was triumphantly holding the head.
“Fai... Faith-Protector! What are you doing?!”
“P-please calm down, Faith-Protector!”
Seeing Kihachi’s head begin to glow faintly in Yasuo’s hands, Takaya said in a strangled voice, “Stop. It’s too much for you to handle.”
“It’s not too much. I have seen how powerful this is. Now it’s my turn to master it!”
“That is not something you can master. Even Mikuriya couldn’t control it. Do you want to end up like her?”
“I’m not incompetent!” Yasuo’s eyes glittered. “I’ll show everyone...!”
“Please stop, Faith-Protector!”
Tokuyama and Harada tried to hold fast to Yasuo. Suddenly, Yasuo felt an electric current rushing from his hands to his shoulders.
(What...?!)
Bright white sparks filled the cave with a buzz of electricity, and Tokuyama and Harada screamed and tumbled to the ground, surprising Yasuo. They toppled over, pressing their hands against their faces.
“O-oi....Harada! Tokuyama! Get a grip on yourselves...” He reached out to shake them. “Eeek!”
Yasuo unthinkingly jumped back. The two men looked at him out of horribly disfigured faces covered in blood. They writhed in pain.
“Gyaaaa—! It hurts it hurts it hurts!”
“Help... Help meeee—!”
Takaya paled, his eyes widening at the abruptness of what had occurred.
Yasuo said fearfully, “Hya...aaaah.... Hold on, hold on! Harada... Toku...!”
Ignoring Yasuo’s will, something like an electric current rushed up his spine again. Harada and Tokuyama instantly moaned again. Both men convulsed violently and fell to the ground, motionless. Yasuo’s breath caught.
“Ha-Harada? Tokuyama? No...no! They’re dead...!” His hands shook around the head as if around a live wire. A deranged scream burst out of Yasuo’s throat: “Nooooo! Why?! ...Why did it—?!”
“Let go of Kihachi’s head!” Takaya shouted. “It’s your half-assed leakage of power! You can’t control it, it’s going out of control!”
“No! I’ll never give it to you! Get away from me! I won’t hand it over to any of youuuuu—!”
It looked as if plasma twined around the deranged Yasuo’s hand—then Kihachi’s head flashed again with white-hot light.
“!”
Takaya cast a «goshinha» in the nick of time. The cave was filled with the crash of a lightning strike. His body unable to support the torrent of energy, Yasuo was blown out of the cave. With a roar, the entrance collapsed...!
“Uwaaaugh!”
He somehow managed to squeeze out some strength and righted himself in mid-air. The cave collapsed in a cloud of dust. The violence of it astonished Yasuo. Kihachi’s head crackled and emitted some lingering sparks in his hand. Yasuo trembled like a child holding a tool he couldn’t operate.
“Hyaa... hyaa...—...”
Tears welling up in his eyes, Yasuo was about to flee when a shadowy figure appeared to block his path.
“!”
Yasuo’s eyes widened.
“You’re not going anywhere, Yasuo.”
It was a woman’s voice. A young woman in a pink pantsuit descended slowly through the air with the same resolute posture as if she were standing on the ground.
It was Saeki Ryouko.
She had apparently followed the luminous flame stone embedded in Takaya as if it were a transmitter. Looking at her face, Yasuo’s changed color. She was the only one among the bird-people who was of higher ability than Yasuo, both in the creation of luminous flame stone and flying. Among the bird-people, Ryouko was the one who was said to be the closest to Asara. Yasuo was no match for her.
“Ryo... Ryouko-san...”
“The ‘Method of Bird-Flight’ is a type of magic that works only for those who have a factor of the ‘shrine maiden of fire’ in their blood,” Ryouko told Yasuo expressionlessly, blocking his way. She must have been watching the whole thing. “It draws out the ability from those with the aptitude and amplifies it. In other words, it is not a spell that works for all Himuka. Not all Himuka could fly.”
Yasuo’s face stiffened.
“On the contrary, even the Yamato can fly so long as they have the right factors.”
“...That...can’t be...”
“You can fly only because you are descended from Asara. Whether or not you can fly is not proof of whether or not you are Himuka. The Himuka people merely had a technique that allowed people to fly. It doesn’t mean that their blood is more valuable than other people’s.”
“That’s a lie, Ryouko-san! You are a member of a dominant race! What did that Yamato man put in your head?!”
Ryouko’s gaze intensified.
“You are a fine Himuka! Your blood is closer to Asara than anyone else’s. You are one of us!”
“I’m not, Yasuo. We’re not the same.” Arms crossed, Ryouko looked at him with hatred concealed in her eyes. She told him in a low voice, “You’re wrong. Stop doing what you’re doing.”
“You’re the one who’s wrong. Are you taking Yamato’s side? In that case, Ryouko-san, you’re Kihachi’s enemy! You’re my enemy!”
“We’re not on the same side, Yasuo.”
Ryoko slowly raised her hands above her head. Her ice-cold eyes glared straight at Yasuo.
“Tell them again...Ikeda Faith-Protector’s teachings...”
“I’m sorry, Enoki-san... But I can’t forgive them for murdering you.”
A bright red luminous flame stone formed in Ryouko’s hands, growing in the blink of an eye like a mountain of crystal in her palm.
“P-please stop, Ryouko-san! We’re on the same side, we’re comrades! Let’s restore Onpachi-sama and the kingdom of Himuka together!”
“You deserve what’s coming to you.” A tear slid down Ryouko’s cheek. “Enoki-san’s murderer has no right to talk about the restoration of the kingdom!”
“Eeek!”
Ryouko hurled the luminous flame stone with all her heart. It struck Yasuo squarely like a huge spearhead, and he fell to the ground far below, spurting blood all over his body.
No mercy.
Hovering in the strong wind that tore at her cheeks, Ryouko watched him fall.
Only her tears were hot.
“Enoki...san.”
The cold wind blowing through Ryouko’s chest never stopped.