Chivalry of a Failed Knight Vol. 3

“You’re going to ask me that?”

“Eep!”

The look in Shizuku’s eyes sent another shiver down Stella’s spine, even more unsettling than the last. Her voice was quiet, and her face was as placid as ever, but her eyes harbored a chilling glimmer so full of rage that it numbed Stella’s whole body.

“Are you completely ignorant of why my brother is playing along with this farce? He had the option to ignore the inquiry completely and remain silent, because it’s really just an inquisition dressed up as a serious investigation—a farce, designed to lead to a predetermined result. No matter what he says, they won’t listen. The whole reason he’s telling his side of the story is because he couldn’t stomach how they defiled your relationship with their obscene ideas. That’s how much he cares about you. If you even think of betraying my brother because you can’t understand that much, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Shizuku’s icy passion was more than enough to make Stella realize the mistake she’d made.

“…Sorry. It was stupid of me to say that.”

Stella earnestly bowed in apology to Shizuku.

I can’t believe I said something so shameful.

She still didn’t consider their relationship to be a mistake, and Ikki was behind enemy lines, proving that he was still proud of their relationship.

The enemy’s purpose was to cast doubts on Ikki’s sense of responsibility, stripping him of his status as an adult and a knight. Therefore, if Ikki had ever said that dating Stella was thoughtless or a mistake, they would have been sure to publicize it immediately, because it was proof that Ikki was admitting to being an irresponsible fool.

“I love you, and I wish I could tell the entire world.”

He was putting those words into practice even in such an awful situation. That was how strongly his love for Stella burned. But what was she to do? How could she respond to Ikki’s passion?

Something only I can do. Something I have to do.

That was…

“Good Lord. You all sure are comfortable with destroying my school.” A voice, mixed with a sigh, called out to Stella and Shizuku. That hoarse voice came from Kurono Shinguuji, weaving her way through the commotion. “Put yourselves in my shoes. You know I have to fix this, right?”

Grumbling as she stepped outside through the hole Shizuku had put in the wall, she snapped her fingers. In doing so, the debris rose into the air and filled the hole that Stella had flown through. It was like watching a video tape rewinding; in a matter of seconds, the hole had been cleanly refilled.

“That should do it.” Nodding with satisfaction at a job well done, she turned her attention to Stella, who was still sitting. “Vermillion, I need to talk to you about the issue with Kurogane. Could you come with me to my office?”

Stella accompanied Kurono to her place of work.

◆◇◆◇◆

Kurono walked Stella to her office, which reeked of cigarettes, and had her sit on the visitors’ sofa. She then lowered herself into a chair opposite her, with a table between them, and sighed as wrinkles of frustration lined her forehead.

“Well, this has all turned into quite the annoyance.”

Stella imagined that Kurono’s visible fatigue was a result of her being dragged into the issue as the one responsible for putting them in the same dorm room. She could hardly sympathize, though, as she still took issue with the coed system.

Oh, yeah…

Figuring she might as well preempt Kurono, Stella asked about something that was bothering her.

“Director, what’s going to happen to Ikki’s selection battles? Surely he won’t be penalized for not being able to fight.”

“On my honor, I won’t let that happen. Kurogane’s opponents will be sent to the Federation’s mock battlefield over at the Japanese Branch office. And of course, we’ll have a teacher from this school present to oversee it. No telling what would happen if we let those idiots judge the fights, after all.”

“Can I go cheer him on?”

“No, that won’t happen. He’s forbidden any meetings until the inquiry ends.”

“So he’s in complete confinement…”

At the very least, it was reassuring that Kurono promised he wouldn’t lose by default; treating his confinement as an absence would be going too far. With one worry assuaged, Stella sighed in relief and pressed Kurono to speak this time.

“So, what did you want me to come here for?”

Kurono started talking business right away.

“Mm, I’d like to know what your parents think about all this.”

Stella had to wonder why she of all people would be worried about something like that, but at the same time, she had no reason to hide it. She told Kurono how her parents had reacted when she’d called them after Ikki was abducted.

“My mother said she understood my decision, but as for my father, he’s a complete no-go. He’s so mad. ‘How dare he lay a hand on my daughter without permission?!’ was his response.”

“Your father really loves you.”

“He needs to learn to let me be already. Turns out that he’s so pissed he’s gonna storm over here soon.”

“When?”

“Probably three weeks from now?”

“That’s around the time selection battles will end. And that’s exactly what our goal is.”

“Your goal?”

Stella was confused by that statement; what exactly did Kurono mean by it?

“Once Emperor Vermillion herself comes for a visit,” Kurono explained, “the red-suits of the Ethics Committee will absolutely not refuse him a face-to-face with Kurogane. And once everyone related to this incident—you included—can have a discussion, this will finally come to an end. Their claims of Kurogane’s ‘misconduct’ are pure conjecture, only being entertained by the public because this discussion hasn’t happened yet. If Emperor Vermillion himself accepts Kurogane, they’ll be left without a leg to stand on. That’s when I’ll get my chance to chase them down.”

“Are you going to fight back?”

“Absolutely. They falsely accused my student on my turf. When I’m done with them, they’ll wish they were dead.”

Scary. The look on Kurono’s face and the words coming out of her mouth had Stella cowering; just being near her was terrifying. Though she may have retired from being a knight, the immense pressure that Kurono—once the third-strongest Mage-Knight in the world—exuded had never faded. But I guess that’s the point.

The red-suits of the Ethics Committee claimed that Ikki’s actions were so rash that he could cause an international incident. However, if Stella’s father, the head of the Vermillion Empire, accepted him, then all would be well. The only problem was whether or not he would accept Stella’s boyfriend.

“Ugh, I’m not too sure about that. He’s seriously unreasonable when it comes to me.”

That man, when she went on a middle school camping trip in the mountains, had put on a bear suit and watched her from the forest. Everyone had mistaken him for a real bear, and he’d almost ended up dead, though she had considered killing him anyway once she’d realized the bear was her dad. That was just who he was, so Stella didn’t see him being very welcoming toward Ikki.

“It’ll be okay,” Kurono said, smiling gently while showing her rare motherly side to the sullen Stella. “If he could raise a smart, upright girl like you, then I’m sure he’ll come to understand that Kurogane’s a good kid.”

There was no real basis for her logic, but surprisingly, Kurono’s words made Stella’s fear vanish. She was right; he wasn’t a bad father at all. In fact, he loved his daughter deeply. Coming to that realization, Stella wished only for him to come to like the man she loved.

“That would be really nice.”

“But still, you should help with the Vermillion side of the encounter. Take some advice from a married woman: before you two cut the cake, meeting each other’s parents is one of the biggest team challenges you’ll have to face. Don’t make the man do all the work, because what your parents are paying attention to is how willing you are to protect him.”

“I-I’ll do what I can.”

“Heheh. Yeah, damn right you will. I figured you’d be more depressed when I found you, but I’m glad you seem to be doing well.”

“I guess I just needed an icy little girl to light a fire under me.”

Rubbing her right arm, Stella smiled a little as determination smoldered in her heart. It wasn’t right for good women to leave everything to the men. The time had come for Stella to fight too.

“I love you, and I wish I could tell the entire world.”

Ikki’s words rung truer than ever. Taking them to heart, Stella steeled her resolve.

I have to keep my promise too.

◆◇◆◇◆

The tenth underground floor of the International Mage-Knight Federation’s Japanese Branch. In a room there, Ikki remained confined.

“Food’s on the table. Questioning starts at six tomorrow, so get to bed.”

A sallow, red-suited man spat inhospitably as he set an electronic lock on the door and left. The room’s only furnishings were a stained bed and a table and chair that seemed ready to collapse at any moment, but after being made to stand all day during the questioning, Ikki appreciated those meager comforts.

He sighed deeply, as if exhaling all of his exhaustion, and sat in the shabby chair. The inquiry had started at 6:00 a.m. and ended at 11:00 p.m. The Ethics Committee had chairs, and they rotated members four times a day. They weren’t fatigued in the slightest, but their victim was far worse for wear. After a week of that, even Ikki’s trained body was beginning to falter, though it wasn’t the only reason his fatigue continued to build.

“Man, I really miss rice right about now.”

He glanced over at his dinner, disappointed. It was just two small nutrition bars. He checked the nutritional information on the back and saw that together, they did add up to one meal’s worth of calories and nutrition, but for a growing teenager and warrior like Ikki, it was far from enough. Having so little for his daily meal left him chronically suffering from hunger pangs.

“And nothing to drink, as usual.”

Even worse, his hydration was also restricted. Somehow, the water that was supposed to come with his meal would apparently be “lost” along the way. The room Ikki was shoved into had been cut off from the water supply for weeks as well, so he couldn’t even wash his hands. It was yet another of their plain but spiteful acts.

Of course, he didn’t receive water during the inquiries either. He was forced to use his shower time and the time spent going between his room and the inquiries to fill up on as much water as he could by using the bathroom. Such a way of living would only keep becoming more and more exhausting.

Surrounded by enemies and forsaken by the world. His was a solitary struggle.

Not that it matters.

He was used to it. He’d always made his way alone, relying on nobody, learning from nobody. It wasn’t his first time fighting such a battle.

When he closed his eyes, he could still remember hiding in the hills behind his house, silently swinging his sword over and over. The majority of his life had felt no different; he didn’t have to try any harder than usual to endure it. Both solitude and hostility were normal conditions for him, so no matter how much Akaza and his goons tried to force Ikki to say that he was mistaken, they wouldn’t be able to crush his hardened spirit.

If they keep this up, I can still take it. If he did that, he would likely meet with Emperor Vermillion soon enough—Stella’s father wouldn’t just ignore the central figure in a crisis that involved his daughter. In that case, Ikki’s main objective was to keep standing firm in the face of the fussy third parties until Akaza lost his right to intervene. That’ll be the real moment of truth for me.

He had to get Stella’s father to accept him; it would be the most important event in his life. The very thought of it made him so nervous that his heartbeat intensified, but he couldn’t run away. Not from something so important.

The moment Ikki Kurogane fell in love with Stella Vermillion, that they would meet became a foregone conclusion. To prepare for the inevitable, Ikki spent all his time thinking how he should make the best first impression. Should he wear a suit to their meeting? And for his hair, perhaps he should… part it to the side? He tried to imagine how that would look.

Whoa. Not into that.

The image of Ikki as a businessman made him chuckle.

More than his appearance, however, the thing that mattered most was communicating his sincerity. Cheap visual tricks wouldn’t work; in fact, they would have the opposite effect. There was no other way than to wholeheartedly look the emperor in the eye and appeal to him as earnestly as possible.

I’ve got the time, so I might as well practice.

While tricks weren’t going to work, it didn’t mean he would go in unprepared. He had to rehearse, so he closed his eyes and focused his mind.

Behind his eyelids, he pictured Stella’s father, Emperor Vermillion. Stella had shown him a picture once, so he knew the emperor’s face. He had the same fire-red hair as Stella and stood nearly six and a half feet tall. His beard connected to his sideburns, bringing to mind a courageous lion’s mane.

Ikki opened his eyes, attempting to bring the vision to life. It was almost as if the man himself was standing before him. Of course, he wasn’t actually there, but Ikki’s well-honed ability to concentrate created a shadow of the man.

Once he had materialized the image of the man in his mind, he began to spar with it. It was a basic martial arts technique being put it into practice, but for an expert like Ikki, the shadow was more than just a shadow; it had a gaze, heartbeat, and bodily warmth. It was so realistic that it even had an audible pulse. Even the man who had created it couldn’t help but shudder.

The lion-like Emperor Vermillion stood with an intense look, saying nothing and standing perfectly still as his eyes, ruby-red like his daughter’s, pierced Ikki. He felt as if his skin would crack under the weight of that gaze. His body broke out in sweat and his throat dried up, but if he couldn’t handle a fake, there was no way he would be able to stand firm in front of the real deal.

Ikki inhaled deeply and stared right back at Emperor Vermillion. Then he got down on his knees, pressed his forehead against the floor, and expelled all the air in his lungs with a shout.

“Please let me have your daughter!”

“I will not.”

His rejection fell on Ikki like lead, shaking his eardrums. Was he not earnest enough?

…Wait a second. No, no, no, no, no. Stop. Hold up.

No matter how insanely intimidating the shadow was, a fake image of a man was still just a fake image. He shouldn’t have been able to respond. To find out whose voice that was, Ikki looked up.

“Why would I give you Shizuku?”

Standing before him, he found his own father, Itsuki Kurogane, looking down at him with his cold, ash-gray eyes.

“D-D-D-D-Daaaaad?!”

◆◇◆◇◆

Another chair was brought into the room, into which Itsuki sat down looked at Ikki from across the table. They stared at each other for a full five minutes without exchanging a single word.

Th-This is awkward. Ikki felt beads of cold sweat rolling down his back. No surprise there; their reunion had started off on the wrong foot, but to make matters worse, Ikki hadn’t seen his father even once since his fifth birthday. He’d never had the slightest idea what to say or what expression to wear were they to be reunited. That aside, what in the world could this man want with me at this point? Why would he come all the way here to meet me?

While Ikki was busy trying to read his father’s mind, Itsuki broke the silence.

“Ikki.”

“Y-Yes?” Ikki answered, his voice shrill.

More beads of sweat formed. His heart started beating erratically. What could Itsuki possibly have to say?

He’s been so distant from me for my whole life. I have no idea—

“Do you have some sort of sexual interest in Shizuku?”

“Bah!”

“Incest is wrong. Ethically, of course, but you should also think of your future children’s immunity to disease—”

“H-Hey, hang on! I was just trying to rehearse for when I meet Stella’s parents, I swear! I love Shizuku, but not like that! She’s my sister!”

“Really? Good.”

That was far too close. Ikki was about to be branded as a very dangerous person. If he had waited any longer, he would’ve been lectured hard.

Well, I guess I can’t blame him, if that’s how he walked in on me.

Thanks to his outburst, though, a bit of the awkwardness went away. Ikki used the opportunity to ask his question first.

“S-So, uh, what are you here for, Dad?”

“My own son is only an elevator away from me. Maybe I decided to come see you on a whim.”

“…Oh. All right.”

Ikki didn’t know if he was serious. Itsuki had always had such a severe look on his face, and his gray eyes showed no emotion whatsoever. Even if Ikki didn’t know his father’s true thoughts, he definitely felt his heart screaming, accompanied by a strange twinge spreading through his cheeks.

What is this feeling? Am I… happy?

He was having trouble analyzing the emotions he was feeling at their ten-year reunion.

“You seem to be doing quite well,” Itsuki said without an ounce of visible tension in his expression.

“H-How so?”

“I mean your results in Hagun’s new selection battle system. I hear you’re at an undefeated sixteen wins.”

“Oh, well, uh… After my battle today, that actually makes seventeen.”

“And you’ve been up against more than just some weaklings. That’s quite the accomplishment.”

“…Huh?”

What was that? Did Ikki’s father compliment him?

What do I do now? I’m actually really happy.

It didn’t take long for Ikki to be sure that he was actually happy to be able to meet his father again, to be able to hear his voice again. Indeed, Ikki Kurogane still loved Itsuki Kurogane. That was why he had answered Stella’s question in the cabin the way he did. After all, Itsuki was his one and only father.

However poorly he was treated, however much he was deprived of simple acceptance, Ikki couldn’t come to hate his parents. Even if his parents could hate him, he could only continue to love. He knew that his father was involved in his investigation and imprisonment, yet despite that, his father was watching him, speaking to him. That alone made him helplessly elated.

Maybe…

He was different from who he used to be, so maybe his father would accept him.

“You’re worthless, so you should remain worthless.”

Maybe he would give Ikki a different answer. With that hope in mind, Ikki spoke.

“S-So, hey, Dad?”

“What?”

“I’m, um… I-I’m trying really hard. My rank is still F, but I’ve won against some really strong people, and I don’t plan on losing anytime soon. I’m different from the boy who couldn’t do anything. I’ve trained so hard—hard enough that I won’t be a disgrace to the family name anymore. S-So… So, please…” His throat quivering from nervousness, Ikki panted as he breathed in. He mustered up all the courage he could to plead to his father, Itsuki. “If I win the finals at the Seven Stars, will you… Will you accept me?”

In response, Itsuki gazed at his son wordlessly for a moment.

“…I see,” he replied, closing his eyes. “I never quite understood why you left us, but now I see. You were under the impression that I didn’t accept you because you were weak. Correct?”

“Yeah…”

Ikki nodded. That wasn’t the entire reason Ikki had left his home, but there was no doubt that that was part of it.

If that’s the case, though, now that I’m stronger—

“If so, that was a grave misunderstanding. Know that I have always accepted you as my son.”

“Huh?”

Ikki’s eyes opened wide as his body stiffened at the unexpected statement. What did he just say? He accepted Ikki?

“Y-You’re lying!”

“I’m not. If I were, would I have come down to see you?”

“B-But… You never did anything for me. You never taught me how to use my Blazer abilities, you never let me train in martial arts like the branch family kids, you never let me do anything.” Ikki remembered just how stifling his family life had been. Itsuki had excluded Ikki from everything, and when other family members saw that the head of the family hated him, they would oppress him just the same. The pain, distress, and loneliness still made his heart throb with pain. “If you accepted me, then why didn’t you treat me the same as everyone else?!”

Itsuki’s expression didn’t change in the slightest.

“I had no need to teach you, so I did not. Nothing more. Teaching a student with no talent to learn half-baked sword tricks would be a fruitless endeavor for both teacher and student,” he replied, almost as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He then stopped and corrected himself. “No, fruitlessness in itself is not a problem. The worst result would have been you as you are now: a half-baked swordsman with half-baked powers, producing half-baked results.”

“Wh-What does that mean?”

Unable to understand what he had just heard, Ikki could only respond with a question. In response, Itsuki closed his eyes again and, speaking matter-of-factly, explained the truth behind his words.

“Ever since the time when Mage-Knights were still called samurai, the Kurogane family has been distinguished among Blazers. We have a responsibility to lead all of the knights in this country. Uniting every knight under one organization is no easy feat, however, as every knight is a superhuman with powers far beyond the ordinary. Because we all have such power in our grasp, we cannot be treated like normal humans.

“To fit everyone into the box that is this organization, we need a sort of pecking order. This pecking order is established in a tangible, public way through the use of a ranking system based on individuals’ abilities. Through it, people become aware of their own roles in society, preserving harmony.

“This is a very important thing—an organization must have every cog, large or small, performing the duty allotted to it for the whole to function properly. There are roles at both the top and bottom of the ladder, and someone at the bottom will never look to someone at the top and think, ‘I’m better than them’, and deviate from their role.

“As you can see, Ikki, you are the greatest evil facing this organization. Someone worthless like you cannot try to gain worth, else others at the bottom will also become unproductive. They too will become prideful and think that they have worth, thus deviating from their own roles. They bring about decreased productivity and increased wastefulness, harming both themselves and the organization.

“Even if ranking is not a flawless system, its failures are exceptionally rare, therefore we must try to avoid waste wherever possible. That is why I told you: you’re worthless, so you should remain worthless.”

Ikki finally understood the man known as Itsuki Kurogane. The Kurogane family was carrying out the duty it had passed down for generations, and for that purpose, they had imposed hard and fast rules on both themselves and others—the order they lived by. That was the basic principle that guided people like Itsuki, who strove to control others. It was exactly the sort of man Ikki’s father, the Mage-Knight known as Iron Blood, strove to be.

“Wait… a second…” If he truly believed that, it would mean… “Then the reason you told me not to do anything wasn’t because I would bring shame to the family?”

“Of course not. Family is unimportant; the role of the Kurogane lineage is to uphold harmony among all the knights of this nation. As such, those who are unable to do anything must fill their roles and do nothing. Ikki, you want me to accept you? Then give up being a knight right now.”

“Gh!”

“Because you’re worthless, you should simply do nothing. That’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted from you.”

That made it clear to Ikki that his father was speaking honestly. Still, it was still an incredibly bitter pill to swallow.

Then what am I to this man? His father didn’t actually hate him, but given the alternative, Ikki would have preferred that he hated him for not having talent. If Itsuki hated him for that, it would have meant he at least expected something of Ikki. Unfortunately, the truth was that Itsuki had no wishes or feelings for Ikki. That’s just… too much.

Itsuki’s feelings weren’t even in the dimension of love or hate. To him, Ikki was nothing but a rock on the side of the road; to love or hate something so trifling would be silly. The knowledge of that fact caused the cold sorrow within Ikki to overflow.

“Ah…!”

“Hm? What? Why are you crying?”

Itsuki knitted his eyebrows in confusion. That reaction was enough to make Ikki realize that somewhere deep in his heart, all he wanted was some sort of connection with his one and only father. He wished and wished for the day when they would come to understand each other, but the way things were, his own father couldn’t even understand the reason he wept.

I guess that’s it. The two of us are just too far apart.

In that moment, something in Ikki’s heart—something vital to him—came crashing down. In that moment, the precision machine known as Ikki Kurogane began to crumble.

◆◇◆◇◆

After Ikki broke out into tears, he gave no response other than quiet sobs. It got bad enough that Itsuki merely gave up on him and left the room, taking the elevator back up to his top-floor office. There, a red-suited man with a body shaped like a keg waited for him.

“Hello-hello, head of the family. Good day to you. Or should I say good evening by now?”

“Akaza?”

“So? What was he like?”

“As usual, I don’t understand him. Though he’s not as bad as his brother Ouma, at least.”

“I don’t mean his personality. Did he seem to be deteriorating at all?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Mhmhm. I may have played with his food a little bit. He’s been eating a drug that destroys both his body and mind simultaneously.”

“One of those truth serums from the military police era? That’s quite the direct method.”

“Just as you know me so well, I also know his stubbornness very well. I don’t expect him to break from questioning alone—that is merely pretext to isolate him. Things are moving along exactly as we calculated; all we have to do is wait for Emperor Vermillion’s visit—”

“You don’t have to explain it. I can imagine, I’m sure.” Itsuki silenced Akaza, who had begun giving a full presentation. “I’m leaving this to your discretion. Do whatever you need to do; I don’t care. However, I will not permit failure. You will have Ikki banned.”

“Yes, of course. I understand. Mhmhm. Well, you just watch,” Akaza said, exiting the room.

Alone in his office, Itsuki turned to face the portraits of the Japanese Branch directors that had come before him, the majority of whom were Kuroganes.

Each picture bore the weight of responsibility that they had all inherited. Itsuki himself was one of them, so he was resolved to bring about the greatest good for the greatest majority that he envisioned.

My life of toeing the line, not overstepping my bounds, is the best way of life for the majority of people. There weren’t many people like Ikki, who could shed their powerlessness. Pointless hopes and consigned self-confidence could only lead to loss for both the person in question and the greater organization. Thus, they were less than useless—they were a burden on the organization he managed. I’ll do whatever it takes to dispose of them. That’s my duty.

For the sake of the ironclad hierarchy, he would show no mercy, even to his own child. That was the only righteousness for “Iron Blood” Itsuki Kurogane.

◆◇◆◇◆

Ten days after Ikki was taken away by the Ethics Committee, the Federation’s Japanese Branch held his eighteenth selection battle against a nameless Rank E, accompanied by Yuuri Oreki, who judged the battle. Shizuku had learned of Ms. Oreki’s role beforehand from Kagami, and went with Alice to wait for her at the Federation’s front gate.

Just as the sun was beginning to set, she exited alone. Shizuku and Alice immediately ran over to her and asked for the results of the match.

“Ms. Oreki, what happened with my brother? Did he win?”

“Huh? Um… Yes. He got his eighteenth victory.”

“Is something the matter?” Alice was quick to follow up to her halfhearted answer.

Ms. Oreki looked as if she was considering whether to tell them something, but considering that Shizuku was Ikki’s blood relative, she decided not to hide the truth.

“The thing is, Kurogane doesn’t look too good.”

“What’s wrong with my brother?”

“Well, he was pale, and his breathing was very ragged and pained. But the fact that he won so handily despite that is amazing,” she added.

“Did he catch Stella’s cold?” Alice asked after exchanging a glance with Shizuku.

“It’s not impossible.”

Even if he hadn’t caught her cold, they had heard that Ikki had gotten soaked at Okutama. With the added fatigue of the inquiry, it wouldn’t have been surprising to the pair if he’d caught one of his own.

“No, that’s probably not it.”

Ms. Oreki, who was well-acquainted with illness, realized that Ikki’s condition wasn’t a result of simply being unwell.

“Ms. Oreki?”

“Oh, sorry. It’s nothing. I’m off to see the director now.”

She withdrew her words and left, doubting that she should be saying such a thing to students; it would only serve to make Shizuku worry unnecessarily. Even so, they saw right past it.

“Ms. Oreki wanted to say something there.”

“She does know a lot about sickness. Maybe she noticed something about Ikki’s symptoms.”

“That something being that it isn’t just any old cold?”

“Most likely. They might be doing something to him in there.”

Shizuku felt a chill run down her spine. She knew that nothing was off the table for her father and his goons. To them, the end justified any means.

“Big Brother… Please be safe.”

It was all happening deep underground, far beyond her reach. Impatient and enraged as she may have been, Shizuku could do nothing but pray.

◆◇◆◇◆

“Hey! Why are you just standing there blankly?!” Ikki opened his eyes wide at the water the Committee threw in his face, accompanied by a hoarse shout. “Napping during an inquiry?! Is there no end to your irresponsibility?!”

A middle-aged man with thin-rimmed glasses in front of his bangs screamed into Ikki’s ear. His jeers echoed loudly through the tiny room, but even then, the voice seemed so distant to Ikki.

Oh. Guess I fell asleep again.

Two weeks after the interrogation began, Ikki’s fatigue was reaching its peak. Long-term confinement, the same questions and answers repeated dozens of times, his assertions continuing to go unheard. That was more than enough to chip away the sanity from any human.

On top of all that, Ikki had spent the past few days suffering from a sudden high fever and a cough. No matter how he tried to suck in air, pain would rush through him, making it almost impossible for him to breathe; it was as if his lungs were failing. The chronic lack of oxygen led to his consciousness fading in and out.

At best, he had pneumonia, but for all he knew, it may have been developing into something even worse. It was enough to require an immediate hospital visit, but of course, the Ethics Committee wouldn’t allow it.

“Hmph. Things go bad for you, so you feign illness. How childish.” Maybe they had been waiting for the moment Ikki was at his weakest to corner him. He didn’t get a second—let alone a minute—of rest. “Now, let’s continue talking about your secret agreement with Director Shinguuji. Under the old director’s system, you were deemed unfit and forced to repeat a year, but this secret deal makes light of that, and we believe that there is a clear ethical problem—”

His line of questioning had already been covered over and over. Ikki’s response: The old director’s decision to make him repeat a year was a result of him being barred from taking classes because of an arbitrary requirement. It was invalid.

The Ethics Committee should have known as much without being told; they were the very ones who had instructed the previous director to do so. However, the red-suits refused to listen. They lobbed questions and assailed him with doubt, yet they ignored his answers while prattling on about him giving a bad impression or being rebellious.

“Ack! Gah! Gahah!”

Ikki had been surprisingly patient despite the vain effort, but when he opened his mouth to argue, he began to cough violently and fell to the floor.

“Damn you, nobody told you to sit down! You’ve got no grit!”

“Ngh…!”

The man with glasses stomped onto the back of Ikki’s head, smashing his face into the floor. The smell of metal filled his nostrils, and drops of blood fell from his nose.

Pitiful.

Caught up in his own helplessness, Ikki could do nothing but smirk. He had a vague idea that his condition was something man-made, probably the result of some sort of drug. Normally, Ikki would have gotten worse bit by bit, but he had fallen apart in one fell swoop.

The killing blow was having met his father, Itsuki. Ikki had always believed that no matter how distant or cold he was, somewhere, there was still a connection between them. That belief had lay somewhere deep in his heart for a very long time, but it proved to be a mistake. It was cut to pieces in the worst possible way, destroying his mental stability.

An unstable mind could do nothing to save a body beset by disease. There was no stopping his descent. The condition of Ikki’s body and mind were crumbling at an alarming rate.

“I think you’ll have to be satisfied with that.” Suddenly, Akaza stood and commanded the man to step back. He twisted his lips into a vulgar grin as he crouched down next to Ikki. “Mhmhm. You’re in some pain, aren’t you?”

“…”

“I understand, considering how long you’ve been in questioning. But understand my point of view: I’m doing my very best to prove that you’re a fine, upstanding knight. However, we’re just not making any progress this way. So I thought about it for a while, and I found an incredible way to make everyone doubting you eat their words. So, do you want to hear it? You want to hear it, right?”

“What is it…? Ack! Gah!”

Coughs punctuating his question, Ikki asked not because he was interested, but because it was the only thing he could do to move forward.

“Mhmhm.” Akaza nodded in satisfaction. “Well, it’s nothing special, you see. You should be aware that it is the knight’s way to cut his own path through fate. So, why don’t we put that into practice?”

“Put that into practice”? How?

“Sooo, we’ll settle this dispute between you and your naysayers based on the result of your selection battle tomorrow.”

“Based on the result”.

That was enough for Ikki to understand what Akaza was saying without him actually saying it.

“You mean a duel against a designated fighter?”

“Yes. Decisions based on duels are absolute to us knights; it’s a rule that, while unwritten, is never to be disobeyed. No matter how illogical or ridiculous the decision, a decision made by a duel is bound by tradition. The Federation operates the same way. If you agree to this duel, and if you can find the strength to come out on top, no one will question you and your qualifications as a knight any longer. Ikki, this could be your miraculous chance to save yourself. It’s your only choice, right? Riiight?”

“So if I win tomorrow, you’ll let me go?”

“Yes, yes, of course. But as it stands, your opponent for tomorrow is a third-year Rank E. Frankly, defeating someone as weak as him wouldn’t contribute much to proving your strength—it won’t convince everyone. For this fight, we need to prepare a suitable actor.”

“Ack… Who’s… your ‘actor’?” Ikki asked, having already assumed they intended for him to fight someone strong.

“The Ethics Committee plans to choose the student council president, Touka Toudou.”

Akaza’s grin broadened more than ever as he named the assassin. An opponent who Ikki would have to fight desperately against, even if he was in perfect health. The top-ranking student in the school and a semifinalist at the previous year’s Seven Stars Battle Festival. Seeing as Ikki was so weak he could barely crawl on his hands and knees, she would be too much for him.

He didn’t need to accept the challenge; at some point, his meeting with Stella’s father would be held. If he could hold out until then, everything would reach its end in a place where Akaza and his goons had no influence. In addition, it would be an insult to Touka for her to be roped into such a one-sided fight. Ikki had no reason to accept it.

“Oh, by the way, we’ve already run this by Emperor Vermillion. Or should I say, a tiny little slip-up on our end has the emperor convinced that you’ve already agreed to the duel. Dear me, I am so sorry. And let me just say, he is so deeply interested in the fight. I believe he said something like, ‘A man who can’t overcome this trial will never have my daughter!’ If you don’t agree to the fight, well, I don’t know that he’ll be very impressed with you.”

So that’s it. They were always planning for it to come to this.

Akaza had skillfully blocked Ikki’s one point of escape, making him realize that the inquiry was just an excuse to isolate him from Hagun. Akaza had never thought simple mental torture would be enough to make Ikki admit defeat; it was all meant to coerce Ikki to agree to an unwinnable battle. That was their scheme.

“You’ll stand and fight like a man, I assume?”

Whenever the word “duel” was uttered, logic and justice were thrown out the window—everything rode on the results of the fight. That had been a tradition among knights since the dawn of time. Ikki had done nothing wrong, yet losing his duel with Touka would put him in the wrong. That would mean losing everything.

It was an unfair, awful idea; he had much to lose, and absolutely nothing to gain. He would just be given back the freedom that he was meant to have from the start. It was so, so unfair.

“…Okay. I’ll do it,” Ikki finally answered, his face dripping with bitterness. With all routes of escape cut off, doing so was his only option.

“Heh. Haha! Hehahaha! Wonderful, wonderful! Imagine if you had said no! Mhmhm! This is what boys are all about! Did you hear what he just said, everyone?! The result of our inquiry rides on his performance in tomorrow’s duel! We make dealings with our swords, just like the knights of old! That way, nobody can object to the noble decision that is reached! I declare this inquiry complete!”

The Worst One, in duress, was made to cast himself into a more hopeless battle than ever before. His opponent was Raikiri, whose undefeated close-range prowess may have surpassed even his own.

Against an opponent who was both powerful and in perfect health, Ikki would drag his own worn-down body into a battle that would decide his very future. He remembered what Utakata had said to him:

“The two of you simply carry different weights.”

It was true. Someone like him could never begin to imagine the sheer weight of the hopes and dreams Touka’s delicate shoulders supported. It didn’t stop with the kids from the orphanage, either; she had earned the admiration of countless people with her previous Seven Stars performance.

Could Ikki really win against someone who had so much to be proud of? Could his sword, guided by naught but a worthless, hollow boy who didn’t even have the trust of his father, overcome her?