4

“All right, we’re off.”

“W-we’re off!”

“Yup, have a good ’un.” Niko waved a hand beside her face in response to Kuroyukihime and Haruyuki, then furrowed her eyebrows. “Hey. Isn’t this kinda weird?”

“Hmm? What?”

“Nah…When you ask, I can’t really…” Niko crossed her arms as she stood on the step of the entryway, deep in thought.

Kuroyukihime shrugged easily. “You’re a strange one. In any case, I’m leaving the particulars of today’s strategy to you. You won’t have any problems with specifying the position and time of Chrome Disaster’s appearance, yes?”

“N-no…Leave it to me.”

“Mmm. All right, we’re off.”

“Yup, have a good ’un.”

Closing the door with a clack, Kuroyukihime turned around and took a step down.

January 23, Friday, 7:30 AM.

It was time to begin that shifting of coordinates known as “going to school” that Haruyuki had executed countless times up to that point. The gray light shining into the shared hallway of the condo, the exhalations colored white by the cold air—all of it was the same as the day before.

However, one thing was different: a female student dressed neatly in the Umesato uniform walking alongside him. Her blue ribbon tied, school-designated bag in her right hand, and shopping bag in her left.

“Apparently, it’s going to be cloudy all day,” Kuroyukihime said to him casually after turning on her Neurolinker and running her gaze over empty space. “I hope it doesn’t rain. Well, shall we go?”

“R-right.” Dipping his head, Haruyuki started walking after her, assuming his home position behind her to the left and wondering vaguely. Huh…so is she like my big sister? And the other’s the little one?

No, forget that. That kind of setup would never exist in reality. Going to school with your big sister, this isn’t some ancient visual novel or something.

He shook his head fast like a wet dog and climbed into the empty elevator car arriving before them.

Normally, if this were a game, there’d never be just two girls, the big sister and the little sister. Right?

As he toyed with this idea in his head (which wouldn’t quite get up to speed, possibly due to a minor lack of sleep) the elevator stopped a mere two floors down, on the twenty-first floor. Haruyuki automatically took a step back, opening up a space for someone to get on.

As the door slid open, his gaze crashed into a girl wearing the same color uniform who jumped in with a spritely, bouncing movement—his childhood friend, Chiyuri Kurashima.

No…! he screamed in his heart.

Seeing him, Chiyuri blinked her large, catlike eyes rapidly before breaking into a broad grin. “Oh, Haru! Morning! What happened? You were superearly yester—What…wh-what?!”

Once she noticed the person to Haruyuki’s right, Chiyuri’s voice and expression evolved rapidly. From distracted, passing through stunned, and then arriving at the critical point: the calm before the storm.

“…Haru? What is this?” Chiyuri murmured, eye twitching.

“Oh, morning, Kurashima!” Rather than Haruyuki, who was frozen solid, it was Kuroyukihime who greeted his friend with a carefree salute.

“G-g-good morning.” Chiyuri lowered her head instinctively, then grabbed Haruyuki’s necktie and shouted, “What’s going on?!”

“I-it’s not what you think!” Shaking his head back and forth, Haruyuki launched his mail with a hand behind his back, seeking help from the only person with a chance of managing this situation; i.e., “Taku, in trouble. Help.”

“And how is it not what I think?!”

Just when it seemed like she was getting serious about grilling him, the elevator finally arrived at the first floor, and the door opened. Haruyuki grabbed Chiyuri’s shoulders and spun her halfway around saying, “C-come on. First, we gotta get to school! We’ll go to class first, then come home, and by the weekend, we’ll forget all about this.”

“Don’t try to weasel out of this!”

Shoving Chiyuri’s shoulders as she shrieked, he cut through the residents and their widened eyes in the lobby and managed to get her out into the courtyard when he heard the sound of his rescue from behind.

“M-morning, Chi! Morning, Haru! Mor…ning…” Here, Takumu pulled his glasses down slightly and stared questioningly at Kuroyukihime’s composed face. “Good morning, Master.”

His partner, somehow having read his mail and rushed down, muttered to Haruyuki, expelling large puffs of white breath in the chill morning air, “Haru. You sure like to live dangerously.”

“I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all,” he returned, before turning Chiyuri who was still shrieking, “Explain yourself!” toward Takumu and letting go.

And Takumu, being Takumu, took the bullet and calmly reassured her: “Chi, I was at Haru’s place yesterday, too.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Just had a little problem with that application.” Faced with the extremely doubtful look on the face of his childhood friend, Taku offered up smooth explanation. Haruyuki could never even hope to imitate his effortless eloquence. “We used Haru’s place as a meeting room. But it ended up running late, and if the social cameras caught some junior high kid out walking alone at that time of night, it’d turn into a whole big thing, so Kuroyukihime was basically forced to stay at Haru’s. Right?”

Fortunately, Kuroyukihime accepted the question lobbed at her and nodded obediently. “That’s essentially the case. No need for any strange suspicions, Kurashima.”

Chiyuri was silent for a few seconds, the expression on her face becoming complicated. “That again? Brain…Burst?” she asked finally in a hushed tone.

She puffed her cheeks up as she looked around at the three of them nodding in unison. “I am not okay with this! I mean, it’s just a game, right? So what is there that you need to spend hours talking about?”

“I-it is a game, but it’s not just a game.” Haruyuki glanced around the wide condo courtyard and confirmed that no one was around before continuing. “We talked about this before…It creates another world by accelerating your thoughts. So just like the real world, all kinds of problems happen—”

“Hmph!” Chiyuri pursed her lips and made a dissatisfied noise. “And I don’t believe a word of that. I mean, you say you ‘accelerate,’ but I don’t even know what that means…Okay, fine. If you show me, I’ll shut up about it.”

“Huh?”

“You can copy and install this game, right?” Chiyuri asked Haruyuki, eyes like saucers, as if it was no big deal. “I’ll load it up, too. And then I’ll be, what did you call it, a, uh…‘Burst Linker,’ too.”

“Wh-what?!” The shout came not just from Haruyuki but from the mouths of Takumu and Kuroyukihime as well.

All three immediately brought hands up in front of their faces, waving them fluidly back and forth.

“I-impossible, no way. Absolutely no way.” Haruyuki accidentally let his true feelings slip, and Chiyuri pinched his round cheek.

“What do you mean?! Just hand it over!”

“No, it’s just—You need an aptitude for the ga—”

“And if I don’t try, we won’t know, will we?!”

“But I mean, you’re…superslow and everything.” The moment the words left his mouth, Chiyuri’s cat-shaped eyes glinted.

“Oh ho! You’ve got some nerve. I get it, you just watch! I’ll practice and get so good I can beat you and Taku at video games!”

“Wh-what?!” Haruyuki’s jaw dropped, and he stared at the challenging glitter growing in her eyes. It was her “Once I say it, there’s no turning back” face, often seen when they used to play together way back in the day.

She yanked Haruyuki’s cheek out as far as it would go, like a sticky mochi rice cake. “And then you’re gonna copy that whatchamacallit Burst to me, too!!” Having said that, his childhood friend, this girl who was the same age as he was, dropped her hand, stuck out her tongue, and ran off at a blistering pace.

“‘Practice,’” Haruyuki muttered, rubbing his cheek. He turned again to Takumu beside him and bowed deeply. “Sorry, Taku. I made you lie to Chiyu.”

The explanation Takumu had given Chiyuri before was not 100 percent accurate. At the time Kuroyukihime declared that she was staying over, the meeting had already ended.

Takumu smiled and shook his head slowly. “It’s fine.” His expression was calm, but Haruyuki felt like it held something somehow self-deprecating, and he bit his lip.

“Takumu,” Kuroyukihime said, sounding concerned. “Perhaps I’m intruding by asking, but…are you and Kurashima still…well…”

“We’re a long ways from the way we were.” Shrugging his shoulders, Takumu turned his gaze to the tops of the trees lining the road, completely bereft of leaves. “Because of what I did. And it might be that we can never go back to boyfriend-girlfriend. But…if I can be with Chi in a way that makes her happy, then I feel like that’s enough for me.”

“Taku…” Haruyuki fumbled for what he should say, but his throat always got plugged up at the critical moments.

Kuroyukihime spoke softly instead. “If…you feel like it’s too much of a burden, or it’s interfering with your relationship with Kurashima, you can delete it, you know…Brain Burst.”

Takumu’s eyes flew open. But he was quick to shake his head firmly from side to side. “No. I still have to repay you for…and Haru, too.”

“Y-you don’t. There’s nothing to repay us for, Taku.” This time, Haruyuki managed to speak, albeit mechanically. “I’ve never thought you had anything to repay me for. And Kuroyukihime’s the same. That’s not why Brain Burst exists. That, that game…” But again, Haruyuki’s meager lexicon was exhausted.

“Don’t worry.” Takumu returned Haruyuki’s gaze with sad eyes and patted his shoulder. “I mean, I definitely have fun in duels. Anyway, Master, I wanted to talk to you about something.” Turning his entire body toward Kuroyukihime, he continued in a serious tone. “Do you really think there’s no possibility of Chi becoming a Burst Linker?”

Kuroyukihime tilted her head thoughtfully, her expression essentially unchanged as opposed to Haruyuki’s bug eyes. “To begin with, does she meet the first requirement?”

“Yes, she should,” Takumu assented immediately.

The first requirement for Burst Linkers was to have been wearing a Neurolinker since birth. Takumu met the requirement due to the educational policy of his overly enthusiastic parents; Haruyuki because his parents, who both worked, had used it as a remote monitor.

Chiyuri was raised by deeply loving and broad-minded parents, and they had placed a Neurolinker on her from the time she was a newborn for different reasons. Chiyuri’s father had once been treated for pharyngeal cancer, and it was difficult for him to speak naturally. Thus, Chiyuri had grown up listening to her father’s neuro voice via the network.

Takumu didn’t go so far as to explain all that, and Kuroyukihime didn’t ask.

“I see.” Nodding, she turned her gaze in the direction in which Chiyuri had run off. “The truth is, the second requirement…It’s not as though there are strict standards for cerebral reaction speed. Some people who are terrible at VR games have been able to install Brain Burst. However, I have to say, trying to make someone you’re not sure of into a Burst Linker is an enormous gamble.”

“G-gamble…?” Haruyuki asked in response, and Kuroyukihime shifted her gaze in a way that seemed meaningful and nodded.

“Currently, a Brain Burst copy license—that is, the right to make a ‘child’ of someone as a ‘guardian’—is limited to just one. That right is exercised even if the install fails and can never be recovered.”

“O-one time?!” Haruyuki stammered involuntarily and hurriedly clapped his mouth shut. He lowered his voice and continued, still flustered. “B-but that—the number of Burst Linkers basically isn’t gonna go up at all, then. I mean, the number of people losing all their points and leaving and the number of new people joining…They’ll just barely be balanced?”

“In other words, Haru,” Takumu said, pushing up his glasses, apparently already aware of this “one-time rule.” “I think that the mystery administrator who runs Brain Burst wants the current number of people—about a thousand—to be the upper limit. That means that’s probably the threshold for keeping the acceleration technology hidden.”

“O-okay, that’s probably true, but…but come on, even if it keeps going like this, at some point, the day is going to come when the secret gets out, right? I mean, Chiyu already knows pretty much everything and all. I-if this admin or developer or whoever is running this whole show with the understanding that the existence of Brain Burst will someday be revealed to the world, and when that happens, we won’t be be able to use our Neurolinkers to accelerate anymore, then…what’s this guy’s objective?”

Haruyuki spread out both hands and looked at Takumu and Kuroyukihime in turn. “It’s just, we…we haven’t paid the price of entry to play this game. And we never see any ads or anything.”

There were two general types of profit structures for the many net games in the world: either charge the gamer with a monthly fee or via item sales, or flood the user with in-game ads from contracting companies.

Brain Burst was definitely a net game, and more than that, it gave its users an extraordinary privilege with the acceleration technology. No matter how he looked at it, a price of zero didn’t make it worth anyone’s while.

Kuroyukihime listened to Haruyuki’s fundamental and very belated question, a faint and wry smile crossing her lips. “Think about that all you want, but there’s no answer to be had, Haruyuki. If you want to know, your only choice is to reach level ten and ask the developer yourself. But I can say just two things with certainty. The first is, as you said before, the Accelerated World likely can’t continue forever given the way things stand currently. The time will inevitably come when the curtain will be lifted and every last Burst Linker annihilated. And the second is…the day will also definitely come when we are made to pay a price in line with the privilege of acceleration. Or…” Her voice became uncertain, and her lips moved very slightly.

But Haruyuki felt like he could see the tiny letters in his exhaled breaths, colored white in the morning chill.

Or we’re already paying it.

“But I digress.” Kuroyukihime laughed briefly and looked at Takumu. “Back to Kurashima. I believe that the possibility of her becoming a Burst Linker is extremely low, but there is value in trying.”

“R-really, Master?”

Kuroyukihime nodded slowly at Takumu and his wide eyes. “Physically, her potential is certainly not low. That sprint of hers earlier was wonderfully quick.”

“Oh, that’s ’cos she’s on the track team,” Haruyuki interjected.

“Hmm. I see,” Kuroyukihime murmured. “In your brain, the circuits that move your physical body and those that move your virtual avatar are basically one and the same. Which is to say, in Kurashima’s case, it’s possible she meets the necessary conditions for the performance of those circuits. The problem is her affinity with the Neurolinker, although there’s nothing to do about that but jump right in and test it.”

“Oookay. But she can’t even neuro-speak.”

“You, on the other hand, are too specialized on the Neurolinker side. Move your real body a little more.”

Haruyuki was slammed into silence, and Kuroyukihime shifted her attention from him to Takumu.

“Takumu. If Kurashima is able to install Brain Burst successfully, a strong connection between the two of you will be created. That of guardian and child. But remember, that does not necessarily mean that there are only positives there.”

Haruyuki couldn’t understand the meaning of these words, uttered quietly and forcefully, right away.

Not positives…Negatives? Between a Burst Linker “guardian” and “child”? What could they be? The guardian leads, the child adores. There’s no dark side or anything there; that’s true, right? It’s different from parent-child relationships in the real world. Totally and completely different from my dad—who shook off weepy, clingy me and left us, and my mom—who doesn’t bother to even look at me, much less talk to me in any real kind of way. Between guardian and child in the Accelerated World—between Kuroyukihime and me—there’s definitely a strong bond.

A thrill ran through Haruyuki, and he stared into Kuroyukihime’s obsidian eyes as she stood next to him. They were filled with the same gentle glow as always.

No. Beyond that, though, something kind of sad. Or maybe it’s just my imagination. I thought I saw a flash of something like fear.

In an instant, a doubt he’d never once given thought to since becoming a Burst Linker under Kuroyukihime’s guidance flickered to life in the back of Haruyuki’s mind.

The question of who Kuroyukihime’s guardian was.

“…U-um.”

“Now we’ve done it,” Kuroyukihime said, as if cutting him off the moment he ever-so-timidly spoke up. “We got too caught up standing here talking. And now we’ll be late if we don’t hurry.”

“Huh…”

Quickly glancing up at the horizon, Haruyuki noted that the sky on the other side of the low clouds had grown much brighter.

“Whoa, you’re right! Maybe we should run a bit, Haru.”

“Ugh! Give me a break.”

Even as Takumu clapped him on the shoulder and he shook his head, Haruyuki couldn’t forget his unasked question. Chasing after Kuroyukihime, who had already started walking briskly, he tried again to pose it to that black back, but for some reason, the words wouldn’t come out.

They managed somehow to fly through the school gates just before the first morning bell rang. After checking that their Neurolinkers were connected to the Umesato local net and that they hadn’t been counted as tardy, Haruyuki split off from the other two.

But even during his morning classes, a single thought swirled persistently through his brain.

Why did Kuroyukihime say that stuff about negative aspects of the relationship between Burst Linker guardians and children? And why did she look a little sad? I want to know. I have to know.

As soon as the virtual blackboard disappeared from his field of view at the end of second period, Haruyuki brushed away his hesitation and launched his text. Keeping it short, he typed and sent, CAN WE TALK NOW? in a mere two seconds.

The reply arrived eight seconds later, a single line: LET’S MEET IN THE VIRTUAL SQUASH CORNER ON THE LOCAL NET. He settled deeper into his chair, closed his eyes, and called out the “direct link” command.

Since there were only fifteen minutes between second and third periods, the fairy-tale forest that made up the Umesato local net was deserted. The short legs of his avatar had barely touched the virtual ground before he was dashing toward a single, large tree towering on the outskirts.

The ringleader of the group of bullies who had forced Haruyuki to use this ridiculous pink pig avatar was no longer around, and his underlings were keeping to themselves, so Haruyuki could have changed to a cooler design anytime, but he missed the window of opportunity, dragging it out so that he was still using this one. This might also have been Kuroyukihime’s influence, telling him she liked it.

In this form, he bounded up the stairs cut into the trunk of the tree and leapt onto the squash court set up on the top floor, his eyes falling on a slender avatar standing quietly in the center of the court.

A jet-black dress with silver edging. A parasol of the same in her hand, the wings of a black spangled butterfly run through with deep crimson lines.

Kuroyukihime, disguised in this form as a fairy princess of darkness, turned her essentially colorless face toward Haruyuki and smiled slightly. “Hey. It’s been a while since I saw you in that form. I suppose because we’re always talking in the real world lately.”

“You almost never come to the local net. The fans of your avatar are sad,” he replied in a voice 30 percent smoother than in the real world.

Kuroyukihime’s smile grew wry, and she shrugged lightly. “Goodness. And here I was thinking I should go ahead and get a black pig avatar to match you. Anyway, what is it? You wanted to talk.”

“Oh…umm…um, well…” This time Haruyuki stammered as usual and fumbled for words.

If he thought about it, the number of personal questions he’d asked Kuroyukihime up to this point was essentially zero. So was it okay for him now to suddenly be acting like she owed him explanations?

For a while, Kuroyukihime looked down at him with a bemused smile, flustering him even though he was the one who had asked her here, but eventually, she rippled the wings on her back and lightly stepped away from him. The bells adorning her parasol rang clearly.

“Haruyuki. You want to hear about my ‘guardian,’ don’t you?” Kuroyukihime spoke softly in her silky tone, somehow even more mysterious than her real-world voice.

Haruyuki gasped and, without waiting for his response, the young woman lowered her long eyelashes. “Sorry. I can’t tell you that name just yet. Because I don’t want you to have any contact with that person, just in case. As a Legion Master…and as a girl. Perhaps it’s an ugly jealousy.”

Freezing and opening his eyes wide, Haruyuki was aware of several thoughts flashing through his mind.

From what she’d just said, he learned two things. First, Kuroyukihime’s “guardian” was still alive and well as a Burst Linker in the Accelerated World. And second, it was probably a girl.

Moving soundlessly along the squash court, Kuroyukihime continued, playing her voice as if plucking the low string on a harp. “That person was once…the person closest to me. I believed this Linker would shine brightly forever at the center of my world and keep all kinds of darkness and cold at bay.”

Almost the way you are for me, Haruyuki thought suddenly.

“However, one day…one incident, one instant, I realized that this was an ephemeral illusion. Now you could go so far as to say that, for me, this person is my archenemy. So much so that I could almost believe that this inexhaustible hatred existed inside me from the moment we first met.” Her voice was calm and controlled, but the passion of her words was incongruous with the usual Kuroyukihime.

As her downcast eyes briefly caressed Haruyuki’s stationary figure, the raven fairy princess brought a hollow smile to her lips.

“If it were possible, I would fight this person right now, this second. After a delightful match spent severing the avatar’s limbs with my sword and making the Linker crawl before me to beg pathetically for its life, I would offer no amnesty and lop off the avatar’s head. However, I will never realize that dream…Haruyuki. Do you understand where the relationship between Burst Linker guardian and child is fundamentally different from, say, the relationship between partners, or lovers, for instance?”

After a moment’s confusion, Haruyuki remembered the thing glittering in Kuroyukihime’s proffered hand that fateful day three months earlier. The silver direct cable. “It’s…Guardian and child know each other in the real, without exception.”

“Yes, exactly.” Nodding, Kuroyukihime tapped the court with the tip of her parasol. “Because to install Brain Burst, the two Neurolinkers must be directly connected. When that happens, guardian and child are most certainly looking at each other’s real faces and have a relationship such that directing is permitted. Because of this, the relationship between Burst Linker guardian and child is the strongest bond in the Accelerated World, having the potential to become its greatest curse at the same time.”

“C-curse?”

“Yes. Because if guardian and child were to part ways, when their relationship becomes acrimonious, that hatred is intensely amplified in the real world. I…I can’t fight my guardian, not with this much hatred. My guardian exerts overwhelming influence on me in the real world. The only proof of a Burst Linker’s existence is the duel, after all. We carry the duel avatars in our minds in order to fight each other. And yet only guardian and child cannot fight. If you don’t call that a curse, then what is it?”

“Kuroyukihime,” Haruyuki murmured, groping for something to follow that with. But he felt it was impossible to say anything; his voice would be too clogged by the emotions swirling around in his heart.

So he took one, then two steps forward and cradled Kuroyukihime’s limply hanging left hand tightly in his own plump hooves. Although their avatars should not have been different temperatures, her hand was as cold as ice.

“Haruyuki…” Her quiet voice echoed his.

Kuroyukihime probably still agonized over the fact that she had hunted the former Red King and chased him away forever. And to martyr herself for that act, she would push herself to turn her sword against any and all Burst Linkers. Even if, for instance, it was her own guardian—or her child.

Trying to bring her white hand to his mouth but in fact pressing it into his large nose, Haruyuki thought, This is the only thing I can say.

“I said this yesterday, too,” he murmured earnestly. “I absolutely will not fight you. I won’t become your enemy. If a time like that comes for some unavoidable reason…I will uninstall Brain Burst before I fight you.”

A long silence filled the space in the virtual sunlight, which drew a diagonal line interrupted by the treetops.

Finally, Kuroyukihime, a bit of her warmth returning, spoke as she tapped Haruyuki’s round head with the handle of her parasol. “Fool, I’d be the one to step down. You fight. You have much more fun with Brain Burst, with the duels, than I do; you should be the one to stay in the Accelerated World.”

“No. I definitely don’t want that!”

And then the parasol rolled onto the carpet of fallen green leaves, causing a soft rustling. Haruyuki was half carrying on like a spoiled child when a soft, smooth hand caressed his right cheek.

Raising his face, he met Kuroyukihime’s eyes, discovering she had dropped to her knees at some point. Her pale red lips, extremely close by, moved subtly.

“No matter what future comes for us, I will at least not regret choosing you.” As she spoke, her hands stretched out to embrace Haruyuki’s head tightly.

Despite the fact that he should have been in heaven right then and there, mingled amongst beautiful sensory signals that were almost too overwhelming to process, Haruyuki felt an indescribable sadness.

After school.

Kuroyukihime and Takumu had said they would come over after dropping stuff off at their respective places, so Haruyuki went home by himself.

Bracing himself to a certain extent, he opened the door but heard neither the sound of a game blaring nor an eager greeting today, and when he peeked in the living room after saying, “I’m home,” very quietly, he saw Niko from behind seated on the sofa.

It was so ridiculously quiet Haruyuki thought she might be sleeping, but her small hand soon waved briefly at him. Going around to face her, he saw that she was staring off into space with eyes wide-open. He supposed this meant she was taking in the virtual desktop visible only to her.

“I’m home.”

When he said it again, Niko responded with a curt “Hey” and flicked her gaze at him for an instant. “The other two?”

“They said they were going to stop at home and then come over. They’ll probably be here in twenty minutes or so.”

“Good. We should make it in time. Chrome Disaster’s not moving yet.”

Haruyuki blinked with surprise. Apparently, Niko was somehow monitoring the movements of Cherry Rook, the member of the Red Legion who had inherited by means unknown Chrome Disaster’s Enhanced Armament, the Armor of Catastrophe—but to do that, she would naturally have had to connect her Neurolinker to the external net.

“I-is it okay for you to connect to the global net? Even though you’re outside Red Legion Territory here?” he asked spontaneously, which elicited a bold smile from Niko.

“Well, I ran into just one foolish intrusion earlier. Knocked that kid flying in ten seconds, told her to tell everyone else not to bug me, so I’m prob’ly good now.”

“O-oh, I see…”

Within a Territory, members of the controlling Legion were given the right to refuse challenges by other Burst Linkers unless they had their settings otherwise.

Because of this, Haruyuki and his friends could now safely connect globally at home and around the school, but obviously, that right did not extend to Niko. But when he thought about it rationally, the only one who could win one-on-one against Niko, a King, was another King, and they had negotiated a mutual nonaggression pact, so there was no way any of them would suddenly provoke a fight. Presently, the traitor Kuroyukihime was the only King who absolutely had to terminate her global connection when leaving her territory.

Trailing his thoughts this far, Haruyuki realized with a start that the redheaded girl before him was also someone who could potentially vanquish Kuroyukihime. He decided to try to confirm this at least, taking the opportunity of it being just the two of them there.

He cleared his throat and opened his mouth. “U-um, Yuni—Niko. Can I ask you something?”

“Nope…or at least don’t start with a pointless intro that lets me just say ‘nope.’ What?”

As she glared at him, Haruyuki, still standing next to the sofa, asked as simply and straightforwardly as he could, “Y-you don’t hate Kuroyukihime?”

“Huh? Why?”

Seeing the look of genuine surprise on her face, Haruyuki, not to be outdone, was also dumbfounded.

“Why? Because she has the biggest bounty on her head. And not only that, it’s on her head because she took down the former Red King, i.e., the person who was the Prominence Legion Master before you.”

“Oh, that.” Sniffing slightly, Niko stretched the slim legs poking out of her cutoffs. Twirling a red pigtail with a finger, she let her eyes wander toward the window. “Yeah, well, he might have been the master. But I never spoke directly with my predecessor, with Red Rider.”

“R-really?” Haruyuki leaned forward unconsciously; he’d supposed Niko’s “guardian” might be this Red Rider.

“I mean, I became a Burst Linker two and a half years ago, and then my predecessor was retired a few months after that. I was still level three back then, or four maybe, and we hadn’t even dived in the same field or anything. When I heard the Master had been struck down in a surprise attack by Black Lotus and lost all his points, the only thing I thought was how tough level nine must be. And anyway…” Niko raised a single eyebrow deftly. “The main reason I could fly through the ranks all booster-powered and become the next king was because Lotus took out the old king, temporarily dismantling the Red Legion for me. Back then, it was a real ‘warring states’ kind of deal for Nakano and Nerima. Every day, new fight groups were being formed, so you just racked up the points. Doesn’t matter if I’m the strongest, if that hadn’t happened, it would have taken me another two years to get to level nine.”

A stiff smile broached Haruyuki’s face as Niko cackled. “O-okay. So then, you and the Red Legion aren’t interested in any kind of vengeance on the Black King?”

“Hmmmmm. Well, to be honest, there’re probably some old-timers who would be. But the ones burning up with a hate-on for Black Lotus transferred to other Legions pretty quick when Prominence disappeared back then. Honestly, doesn’t make any sense. The whole idea of picking up where the last guy left off makes me laugh, but if that’s where their heads are at, fighting to bring back Promi would’ve been the easiest way.”

She cut herself off there, stared up at Haruyuki, and muttered a threatening, “What?”

He shook his head hurriedly and turned away.

After a brief silence, Niko opened her mouth once again. “And—you totes can’t tell that girl this…”

“O-okay.”

“The truth is, I think she’s—Black Lotus is pretty amazing. Kinda motivates me.”

“Huh?! Th-that’s—what do you—”

“No telling. For reals, no telling.” After giving him a sharp glare, Niko kept going in a quiet voice that didn’t match her rough tone. “Because she’s the only one of all the Kings who said she was serious about getting to level ten. Meanwhile, the other Kings, me included, are running around playing at duels under the lukewarm pretext of the stupid territorial nonaggression pact. The worst part is that some of the other Kings secretly have their sights set on level ten, too. Small-minded bastards looking for a chance to get the jump on the others, all the while singing their little song of the status quo ‘for the continued existence of the Accelerated World.’”

“And you?” Haruyuki asked, reflexively, the moment Niko’s monologue was done. “Which are you, Niko?”

“Dunno.” Her response was short and contained the ring of truth.

The young King rolled her too-slender frame over onto the sofa with a thump and folded her arms behind her head. The toes of her bare feet, thrust nearly into Haruyuki’s face, tapped the air rhythmically.

“The other Kings—especially Purple and Yellow—are pushing this theory that the moment even one Burst Linker makes it to level ten, that’ll be the end of Brain Burst. There’ll be some doo-doo-doo trumpeting and fanfare, the developer’ll appear, say congratulations or something, and roll end credits. And then all the Burst Linkers get Brain Burst forcefully uninstalled.”

“Tha…”

That can’t be. There’s no way a net game would end for everyone all at once. He almost laughed, but then his mouth froze.

He remembered what had come up when he was talking with Kuroyukihime and Takumu that morning. At some point, there will come a day when the Accelerated World is no longer hidden, and the game is destroyed. Haruyuki himself had said it.

Niko nodded lightly, almost as if reading Haruyuki’s thoughts. “And I don’t think what they’re saying is totally impossible. To be honest, I don’t want to think about what it’d be like after Brain Burst’s gone. I mean, for me, that over there’s basically the real world. But…I wonder if it’s really okay for us to cling to it like this just ’cos of that. The Seven Kings—no, the Six Kings—and their nonaggression pact distort what the Accelerated World should be, and we’re paying the price for that all over the place now.”

“D-distort…?”

“Chrome Disaster, for example,” Niko muttered abruptly, closing her deep green eyes. “Cherry Rook gave in to the temptation of the Armor of Catastrophe because of his despair at the wall between him and the higher levels. I mean, prob’ly. Because of the pact now, the Accelerated World’s stagnating, and no matter how hard you fight in the Normal Duel Field, getting to level nine—no, even level eight—is crazy-hard. There’s no one to fight. I got to nine, like I said before, because I managed to sort of surf the total chaos Black Lotus caused. But that kinda thing’s not gonna happen again. So these days, if you’ve got your sights set on a high level, all you can do is take the risk and fight in the Unlimited Field. The thought of it tormented Cherry, and he reached for the Armor. And in a way, what pushed him to it was a single King, me…”

Niko suddenly blinked hard and clenched her teeth.

Haruyuki watched her flat chest heave twice, three times, and he held his breath and whispered unconsciously, “N-Niko…”

“Shut up! Don’t say anything! Don’t look at me! Go away!” she shrieked, still flopped atop the sofa, pumping her legs in the air, and rubbing her eyes hard with her right arm. Then they flew open abruptly, and she cried out as if surprised, “Anyway!!”

“Huh?”

“Anyway, why am I telling you all this stuff?! Just forget it, all of it!! All this now was lies!! If you don’t forget it right here and now, I will knock your face in!!” she ranted and raved only half audibly.

Haruyuki automatically reached out with both hands to stop her legs, which flailed as if trying to kick him down to the ground. Then he squeezed those tiny bare feet, almost clutching them to his chest.

“Aaah! Wh-what are you doing, you perv?!”

“Niko.” Not flinching at the blatant name-calling, Haruyuki put even more strength into his grip. What he really wanted was to hold her hand, but if he did that, it probably wouldn’t end just with her punching him.

“Niko, you’re not wrong.”

The moment Haruyuki gave voice to those words, Niko’s violent struggle to free her legs stopped. He stared right into her large eyes and continued earnestly.

“It’s totally natural that you wouldn’t want the game to stop, that you’d want to stay in that world forever. But…I’ve played a ton of net games now, so I get it. There’s nothing sadder and lonelier than the ‘end’ of a game with no ending. Net games that stop making money because the users get bored and move on to some other game, there’s a quiet announcement that it’s shutting down, and then the servers get turned off and no one really even says anything about it. I’ve experienced the ‘middle’ of that moment countless times. I’ve watched the familiar old man at the weapons shop or the girl at the inn ‘die,’ smiling forever, and after I’ve linked out, back in my own room, I’ve cried countless times. That kind of ending is wrong. It’s completely wrong.”

Not moving a muscle, feet still in the care of Haruyuki’s chest, Niko opened both eyes wide.

Feeling the thin skin on the palms of his hands and the blood flowing beneath it, Haruyuki continued speaking, his voice slightly hoarse. “If…if there is an ending to Brain Burst, we should be trying to get there. Even if, say, we lose the ability to accelerate because of that, compared with the world just fizzling out pathetically, it’s way, way…It’s the right way.”

Because that effort itself is probably the price we have to pay for all the things this game Brain Burst has given us. Because melancholy me being able to talk this long in my real-life voice with a girl I only recently met is probably thanks to the program.

Hiding only this last thought in his heart, Haruyuki closed his mouth.

Silence fell, and Niko stayed quiet for a long time, not moving a muscle.

Aah! Did I say something totally nuts again?

Just when Haruyuki was becoming utterly discouraged, the young King finally muttered grudgingly, “The right way, huh? So there actually are Burst Linkers who talk like that.”

Eyes turned straight up at Haruyuki, Niko flashed him a smile, a bit like the one she gave him in angel mode. “You’re a weird one. To be honest, I was really wondering why the one and only flying ability would go to a lazy pudgeball like you, but…I kinda feel like I maybe get it a bit. But, that said…” Here the look on her face turned stormy, and Haruyuki stood up straighter. “Exactly how long are you gonna fool around with my feet, you perv? I’ll kill you!!”

At the same time, her left foot shot out at the bridge of his nose, and Haruyuki fell helplessly backward.

The sound of the door chime danced cheerfully over the thud of his body.

“And then I ran into Master. Oh, here, treats. I nicked some we had at my place,” Takumu said, lifting what looked like a cake box, then tilting his head to the side after his gaze had made the return trip between Haruyuki sitting on the floor and rubbing his nose and Niko looking the other way on the sofa. “What are you doing?”

“Perhaps they were fighting. No matter, no matter!” Kuroyukihime smiled faintly, hand on her uniformed hip, and Niko sniffed derisively.

“Weeell. You know what they say, the more you fight, the closer you are.”

Haruyuki hurriedly inserted himself between the two, certain to send sparks flying if left to themselves. “W-welcome, both of you! Thanks for the treats, Taku! So okay, let’s eat! I get the one with a strawberry on top!!”

As he stood swiftly and headed toward the kitchen, two voices sounded off simultaneously behind him.

“The strawberry’s for me!”

“The strawberry’s mine!”

“…Right.” He dipped his head grimly and prepared plates and tea.

Fortunately, the box contained two pieces of strawberry shortcake and two of chocolate cake, so no further fighting was provoked—although there was the exchange: “You don’t have to have black cake, too?” “Chocolate isn’t black; it’s a burnt brown.” Once the four of them had concurrently taken their first bites of cake and sips of tea, the look on Kuroyukihime’s face changed.

“Are you able to track Chrome Disaster?”

At the question, Niko quickly ran her eyes over her virtual desktop and gave a slight nod. “Yeah. He should be moving pretty soon.”

This steady reply made Haruyuki feel slightly uncomfortable.

How was remote tracking of a Burst Linker even possible? You could tell a Burst Linker’s current position if the target started a duel and you dove into the field as a spectator, but Niko hadn’t had the look of accelerating. Or maybe the Legion Masters had some kind of crazy privileges that let them check in on the whereabouts of members in the real world?

He opened his mouth to casually inquire along these lines.

“There he is!” Niko shouted sharply, stabbing the almost circular strawberry she had set aside for last with a fork and tossing it in her mouth. “Cherry’s on a train on the Seibu Ikebukuro line. Given his pattern up to now, today’s hunting ground’s gonna be the Bukes.”

“Ikebukuro? Annoying.” Kuroyukihime clicked her tongue lightly. She placed her fork on her now-empty plate with a clatter. “How will we move? Are we going to use a train, too, or a cab in the real? Or shall we cut through inside?”

Unable to understand the meaning of her words, Haruyuki furrowed his brow.

“Inside,” which was to say the duel field, had the appearance of continuing endlessly, but movement limit lines were set up along the borders. Without them, it would’ve been possible, as a battle strategy, to run desperately in a straight line until time ran out after landing a blow.

So for example, diving from this place, from Haruyuki’s house into the field, the northern edge of Suginami Ward would be the farthest they could go; they definitely shouldn’t have been able to get all the way to Ikebukuro in Toshima Ward.

However, Niko answered readily after only a moment’s thought. “We’ll go from inside. With this setup, we shouldn’t get tripped up by any Enemies.”

“If we’re lucky,” Kuroyukihime assented, looking severe.

No longer knowing which way was even up, Haruyuki was caught by Kuroyukihime’s serious gaze head-on.

“Now, then. Haruyuki. I’ll teach you the command to dive into the true battlefield of the Burst Linkers. It will use ten of your burst points, but that’s not a problem, is it?”

“N-no, not if it’s only ten points. But more important…the true battlefield…?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. The true nature of what we call the Accelerated World is there. Shout the command after me, just like I say it. Here we go. Fifth Chrome Disaster Subjugation, mission start!”

There, she took a deep breath, straightened her back, and—

As she touched the button to connect her Neurolinker to the global net, the jet-black, beautiful princess shouted in a commanding voice, “Unlimited burst!”