Act 1
Start of a Study Case
Chapter 10
Tip of the Iceberg
Saya didn't let go of Kiri.
Honestly, she didn't know how long she was like that. The passage of time didn't register to her at all, not while she was holding on to her precious one.
Even after her friend said it was time for them to start catching up with each other's affairs, Saya only let out a small 'un' and mumbled her room's number.
Kiri laughed again, a rich and melodious sound to their ears. Saya took that as a permission to stay latched like a koala.
"I'll take my time walking there, then."
Was whispered to her ears, and Saya shivered – for more reasons than one. She didn't want to think on why, so she kept her eyes shut and focused all her other senses to Kiri.
She felt a surprising warmth from the body pressed against hers.
She felt a smooth texture from skin of an exposed neck with her cheek.
She felt a firm, filled sensation from body muscles with her arms and legs.
She felt a tickling cold from strands of hair whenever one brushed her face.
Saya didn't want to let go. It felt as good as sleeping. Probably.
Thinking like that, sleeping with Kiri would definitely be better.
They should sleep together again, just like old times.
It would be... it would be...
It would be nice...
...
...
"Fufu..."
...
...
"To think–"
...
...
"–you would fall asleep so easily–"
...
...
"–don't be mad when I wake you up later~"
...
No, I am not sleeping...
"I am both disappointed and pleased, Saya."
Saya felt her eyes snapped open at Kiri's loud voice. Her vision was somewhat blurry, but it didn't stop her from recognizing the place she woke up in every morning.
Why... are we in my room already? Did I... fall asleep?
Her Genestellar eyes didn't need more than a blink to adjust, and in a flash, it was indeed her room. Kiri had just entered through her room's window.
"Your window isn't locked, as usual. And your room is no different from my new one."
Ah, right. I never did lock windows.
Those words had a not-so-well hidden tone of scolding. But even half-awake, Saya could tell Kiri was smiling with the obvious amusement in her face.
Kiri moved to the desk placed at the right side of the room, placing a pair of Lux handguns. Saya felt her brain boot up; those were... those were the guns she had dropped earlier.
I don't even remember them...
When did Kiri pick it up? Still as attentive as ever... seems some things just never–
"Seems some things just never change. I wonder why I had expectations?"
Saya blinked. Twice. Then she stared at Kiri's eyes, a few inches away from her own.
Did you just... predict my thoughts?
Or perhaps coincidence? They did grow up together, sharing a few thought processes were not too surprising. The notion sobered Saya up, at least.
Enough for her to say her true thoughts. "This isn't home," Saya said softly, "and I don't want to make it a home."
Saya believed Kiri would still share that sentiment, even after all these years. Home wasn't a word they would easily give to just any place.
Kiri hummed, much to Saya's joy, clearly conveying her agreement.
"That would be a good topic to start with." Kiri glanced at her in return, large blue irises reflecting her own red pair from the closeness. "Do you want to stay like this?"
Yes, Saya honestly wanted to say. But if hugging Kiri for what she assumed was a few minutes were enough to reduce her to a sleeping state...
Then waking up once wasn't going to stop her from falling asleep a second time. That would be rude, even if Kiri would not mind.
It's also possible Kiri will just let me sleep, moving our talk to tomorrow...
That wouldn't do. Not after how frustrating today was.
Thus, with great reluctance... Saya shook her head, loosened her body and her hold, and let herself drop from Kiri's height to the floor. Luckily, she was awake enough her legs could support her standing straight just fine.
As soon as they were separated though, Saya already felt herself missing the warmth – but with sheer willpower, she resisted the urge to hug again. With a quick movement, she moved to the left side of her bed, turned around, and hopped on the soft spring bed to sit.
With a pat to the space to her left, Saya glanced back at Kiri. "Sit with me."
She moved to close the window, before turning with a smile. "With pleasure."
A blur, and in the next split-second Kiri had also hopped on the spot next to her. Saya found herself bouncing up from her seat slightly as the sudden weight slammed the bed.
"Now then," Kiri breathed audibly, "Shall I begin? Or shall you?"
"Me," Saya replied without missing a beat, "why did you dye your hair?"
Deep purple hair was probably Kiri's most recognizable physical characteristic, even compared to her pale skin or her big blue eyes. Haru-nee used to compare it with periwinkle flowers, which couldn't be more apt.
Common sense would say dyeing your hair require no particular reason. But Kiri didn't follow common sense – Saya could still remember how vocal she was about natural beauty, dyeing just didn't fit her character.
Kiri didn't reply immediately. Instead, her right hand brushed through the snow-white strands around her face, as if to attract Saya's attention.
Demurely, her mouth opened. "Disappear, [Boreal Phantom]."
Saya recognized it immediately. Magic, Kiri just dispelled a magical technique...
In an instant, a wave of prana was released from Kiri's head, and Saya saw the exact instant the pure white flaked away like snow being blown away by the wind, revealing familiar purple strands underneath–
"...Huh?"
Even after the magic was dispelled, Kiri's waist-down purple hair still had very noticeable strands of white all over, seemlessly interwoven among the purple as if someone knitted a wrong color to a fabric of cloth. It stood out, in a way unnatural even for Genestellars.
As soon as Saya processed that, her mind kicked into analysis – it's a case of magic-induced mutation, unique to Dantes and Stregas, from magic overuse.
However, that should only occur on magic users who forcefully used magic under stressful physical conditions... which meant Kiri had–!
"Kiri, what happened to you?"
Saya couldn't stop the concern from leaking out into her voice.
Magic-induced mutation could happen overnight or over long periods of time, depending on the circumstances. Saya could not tell from a glance which one had happened, but either way it didn't bode well for the Genestellar suffering it.
A small smile plastered on Kiri's lips. "A preface, Saya. In the last six years, I went through many things, more than my past self could have imagined, after you moved away. Almost certainly more eventful than your life has been."
Those words did little to ease Saya's concern. If anything, they only gave her a sense of foreboding.
On hindsight, it was obvious; the Kiri whom Saya remembered would never dye her hair without good reason, so it only made sense she had a legitimate reason. Saya simply didn't think the reason could be a stressful past – potentially present – situation.
Kiri continued. "It will take a lot of time explaining it all. I want us to at least be aware of each other's general situation before I share about my tale. Is that alright?"
That... was kinda difficult to accept. Not when Saya was itching to know more, especially if Kiri had unwanted conditions which might contribute to her hair whitening.
A compromise, then. "On one condition." Saya made sure to lock on Kiri's eyes. "Kiri, please, tell me if you are not alright."
"Oh, you." Kiri returned her stare with unmistakable affection. "I don't like the thought of myself being sick any more than you do. If I ever end up sick, I will never lie or hide it."
That much, Saya had to admit, was relieving. Then whatever had happened, it was not plaguing Kiri to this day.
"Very well," Saya let out a sigh, calming herself, "I think I have an idea what you want to know."
"Don't sound so unsure." Kiri said cheekily, her smile widening. "I have changed. You have, too. But I like to think, I still know you the best in this world."
Impossible. It was impossible to keep a straight face against those words and that face. Saya didn't know what kind of expression she was making, so she looked away.
"The feeling," Saya breathed, "is mutual."
"Then," Kiri chuckled, "go on. Tell me what I want to hear."
Saya closed her eyes. She recalled her days, her weeks, her months, her years – before this day – all the way back to that day.
Ever since the day Kiri sent that one video message, Saya had made up her mind not to contact her best friend. Not through messages, not through calls.
At most, on days Saya could not suppress her loneliness or her curiosity, she would ask Dad or Mom to ask Haru-nee about the youngest Amagiri. Kiri had also asked about her in this indirect manner, as well.
It would stay that way, until the day they could reunite, properly.
What Kiri wants to know... is what do I think about my life, in these years we are separated.
It's not an easy thing to answer. But Saya could answer it.
Opening her eyes, Saya's red met Kiri's blue once more.
"Home is the same as ever," She began, "Dad is still a mad scientist. Mom is still his only anchor to normal human life. I love them both for that and more."
Both Kiri and Haru-nee often described Dad as a 'mad scientist', and to be entirely honest, Saya would not disagree. He was a Meteoric Arts tech-engineer – technology related to mana and manadytes – which meant half of his job was to design weapons.
Dad's obsession with weapons is second only to his love for Mom and for me.
The thought made Saya smile a little, and noticing that, Kiri's eyes sparkled – literally, as prana made her pale blue eyes even brighter than usual – before a giggle escaped her lips.
"They haven't changed much, I see." Kiri said lightly. Saya nodded, before she continued.
"School is much the same. You know I never liked school. A middle school in Berlin didn't change that, though I did make a few friends."
Nobody could ever be like you though, was left unsaid. Saya didn't need to, Kiri probably knew as well.
Somehow, Kiri looked even more pleased. "You did? Color me surprised. I want to meet them one day."
Saya let her smile became a smirk. "Did you think I would be friendless for all of my middle school?"
Kiri returned the smug expression. "No comment."
Playing hard to get? Saya felt her mischievous side acting up.
"Kiri," she said in a mock-stern tone, "don't make me use my wish ticket to force an answer out of you."
For a second, Kiri looked confused – a rarity, which Saya made sure to commit to memory – but as expected, clarity came to her eyes not long after.
"Ah..." Kiri smiled fondly, "I remember. You still have one of those when you moved away."
Wish ticket – it was something valid only to the both of them. Similar to a help ticket, its purpose was to 'make the other party listen to the owner's wish'. This was what Saya and Kiri had wagered whenever they had any kind of contest before their separation.
Whenever either of them lost during a game, a spar or anything really, the winner would get one ticket. They could be used for anything, as long as it was not something either of them really hated to do or to cancel off wishes used by previous tickets.
Childish? Certainly. But to Saya... playing for and with these tickets were her childhood. And the last ticket in her possession had become something like a lucky charm and a keepsake – after all, each of their tickets was hand-written, 'wish ticket' by the loser.
Saya's win-loss record with Kiri was 307-324. Despite competing in so many things so many times however, Kiri had lost all her tickets, and Saya only had one left.
Both of us have a bad habit of using up our tickets as soon as we got them...
It was an amusing thought. "So? Must I use this last ticket to make you spill?"
Another chuckle. "Of course not, keep it for when it truly counts." Kiri's face became thoughtful.
"To be entirely honest, I am surprised. I don't think you would go out of your way to make friends, so I assume those friends must be the ones who approached you and kept you close. Am I right?"
Delight and marvel filled Saya's chest at the familiar, almost-always-on-the-mark analysis. "Sharp as ever. You are right, they are weird."
Kiri snorted in amusement. "If they are weird for keeping you, what does that make me?"
Saya consciously tried not to laugh. "Exotic. One of a kind. Unique species."
"Is that a compliment?"
"It is what it is."
Both of them stared at each other for a moment.
Then Kiri broke into a fit of giggles, and Saya couldn't help but grin as well.
You are right. We have changed.
But moments like these... I wonder if six years truly did pass between us.
Saya wanted to say that out loud. It felt appropriate, it was truly what she felt.
A glance at Kiri's hair halted that thought, however.
I still have to know what you went through.
To that end, Saya must deal with the rest of Kiri's curiosities.
"German is really different from Japan." Saya bit her lip, this answer might not satisfy Kiri. "I'm not sure I can entirely explain."
"That is fine." Kiri interjected. "It's not Berlin, but I have been in German speaking countries, Saya."
Saya felt her attention snapped at those words. "Really?"
Not for the first time, Saya wanted to curse her monotonous voice for failing to convey her surprise. She guessed her face wasn't much different.
"Yes, really." Kiri continued without missing a beat. "Specifically, I have been to Lieseltania a few times."
Lieseltania? That sounded familiar. Saya felt her head tilt, as she tried to rack her brain to recall exactly which nation that name referred to.
"Aha." Kiri sneered, though it wasn't quite mocking. "You look like you are trying to recall something you forget. Still quite apathetic to your surroundings, I see."
That made Saya raise a brow. "I'm supposed to know?"
Kiri giggled. "Julis is the first princess to Lieseltania's royal family."
Oh.
To be honest, Saya could vaguely recall Riessfeld being a princess of some sort; her classmates constantly called the redhead by that derogatory nickname. Still, it was unexpected...
Why did Kiri visit Lieseltania, multiple times at that, was a big question mark. But Saya figured it would be answered later.
For now, Saya was more curious about something else. "Is that how you know her?"
"In a sense." A shrug. "I know of her, but I didn't know her before I met her yesterday."
Saya knew how different those two notions were, but it was just like Kiri to emphasize them like that, even if it was unnecessary. "Your interests haven't changed."
Kiri raised her chin, a gesture of challenge. "And yours have?"
A shake of the head would be enough of an answer, but Saya voiced it out anyway. "Nein. I don't think they will."
Sleeping, shooting, and trying to make the experience of either even better; Saya didn't really find passion in doing anything else, and she didn't think she needed any other.
"Before I moved here, Dad was teaching me more about weapon designing and manufacture, while Mom was trying harder than ever to..." Saya frowned in distaste, "...break my so-called bad habit."
It's blasphemous for anyone to claim 'sleeping in = bad habit', even Mom. With that in mind, Saya puffed her chest proudly. "As you can see, it didn't work."
Another laugh, this one more amused than before. "But it did delay our reunion by one day, Saya."
The reminder made Saya unable to resist her urge to pout. "Don't remind me."
"Don't pout," Kiri said cheekily, "that only makes me want to tease you more."
Saya looked away, ignoring the remark; that exchange was clearly in Kiri's favor. It would be better if she simply continued to answer Kiri's inquiry.
I have covered home, family, social life, cultural experience, hobby and interests...
Ah... Now just the serious stuffs.
Closing her eyes, Saya inhaled a deep breath to prepare herself. It was no exaggeration to say Kiri had been most anticipating of these.
"About why I am here, in Asterisk..." Saya opened her eyes. "To be honest, half of it is because Dad wants me to."
A snort from Kiri indicated her lack of surprise. "To spread the word of his creations? The other half is your own reason, then."
Saya felt her mouth shut at those words. Right, Kiri likely had guessed... still, it was only appropriate for her to affirm it.
You. I want to meet you.
But, now that Saya was thinking about it... it felt embarrassing to put into words. To admit your longing in front of the one person to whom it concerned, the thought brought warmth to her cheeks.
"My other reason," Saya tried to keep her voice level, "is to meet you again."
Kiri stared at her. More specifically, Kiri looked into her eyes, big blue eyes conveying nothing but unrestrained fondness.
"Because our hometown isn't too far away from Asterisk?" Kiri asked, but it was clearly a rhetorical question.
"Yes," And honestly Saya didn't need any other reason, "it's why I tried asking the school if I may leave Asterisk City every now and then."
A frown marred Kiri's smile. "You joined a trimester ago, but you didn't receive any permission?"
Did Kiri take offense on her behalf? That was a touching thought, but Saya didn't need it. "It is what it is."
Fact of the matter was, while combat academies were supposed to assist students who wanted to step out of Asterisk City and into the Kanto region surrounding it... unless the student requesting had achievements to their name, such requests were more likely to be ignored.
Saya certainly had the ability to rack up achievements, but she couldn't be bothered to stand out that way – even if it would boost the rep for Dad's weapons. It was family tradition; she would acquire reps by her own way.
In the end, Saya just shrugged. "Asterisk City is worse than Haru-nee described."
Then it happened.
In Kiri's eyes, pain twisted her gaze – only for a fraction of a second – and then it's gone like it was an illusion.
Saya blinked. What was that...? Her mouth was about to ask just that, before–
"To be honest," Kiri sighed with a tone Saya noted as resigned, "I have a different opinion. It's not as bad as she said."
Huh? That was not something Saya had expected. She guessed Kiri would wholeheartedly agree with her assessment.
Could it be...?
Integrated Enterprise Foundation and the Asterisk City were among the few things Haru-nee truly hated, and that hatred was passed on to Kiri. Saya didn't entirely understand the matter back then, but living for 4 months in the city had explained it more than words could.
Kiri was a new student who transferred into Seidoukan just yesterday. No matter what, Saya didn't believe it was possible for Kiri to shift opinion on Asterisk in such a short timeframe. In turn, this could only mean...
Even before Kiri transferred in... she was already in this city.
That conclusion begged more questions; for how long, and why? Saya felt her curiosity began to itch, and her patience thinning.
As if sensing Saya's thoughts, Kiri nodded at her.
"It's as you are probably thinking. The reason I have been in this city for six months is related to the mess my life became ever since you moved away, Saya."
A mess. A mess, Kiri said.
The choice of word was a stark contrast to how calmly it was spoken. The confusion they caused was a maddening feeling; Saya could barely restrain herself from asking Kiri to elaborate more.
But... not yet... after all, I, too...
Saya was not done sharing her situation either. Luckily, she didn't have much left to say... even if thislastone would be quite serious to talk about.
"Overall." Saya summed up. "Life has been mostly uneventful. But, it would be a lie if I say nothing major has happened."
Kiri perked with attention, just as Saya knew she would. "More good than bad, or more bad than good?"
For a moment, Saya thought on how she would bring it up. However, 5 seconds didn't even pass before her mind concluded there was simply no way to lighten this topic – that being the case...
I'll just do it the usual way.
As bluntly as possible–
"A while ago, Dad lost a great portion of his body in an accident at the institute he was working."
Saya witnessed the exact moment Kiri tensed, her blue eyes widening by a centimeter or two. Another rare moment of surprise, but unfortunately Saya couldn't fully enjoy this one.
"Fortunately, his brain was safe." Saya felt oddly fascinated seeing how Kiri relaxed just a bit with that. "He used the compensation money from the accident to build a workshop in the house, and connected its central unit with his brain and vertebrae."
"That's..." Kiri began, a slight hesitation in her face and voice, "...Both amazing and concerning."
"I know." Saya affirmed, continuing. "By his words, after getting used to it, he is plenty satisfied since he can make more precise movements than with his actual body."
As soon as those words were said, Saya could almost see the gears of mind behind Kiri's eyes turning. That was not normally possible – only when Kiri had completely dropped her facade on purpose – and her eyes went through several emotions before settling on one.
Determination.
Kiri's right hand, which had been on the lap since earlier, left its resting spot and moved at a distractingly slow pace – before it reached for Saya's left hand pressed on the bed.
Saya felt her own eyes widening as soon she registered Kiri's bigger hand on top of hers, long and callused fingers giving a firm, but gentle squeeze.
Kiri, you...
Any word Saya was about to say simply vanished as soon as her eyes met Kiri's, the strong determination had given way to pure sincerety.
"Saya," Kiri said her name in a way which made her want to hear it again, "I am sorry to hear that."
The condolences were heartfelt, achingly so. But it also sobered Saya up, thankfully.
"I," Saya caught herself from stuttering, "I have come to terms with it."
It was the truth. Even if part of Saya felt just a bit lonely, whenever she thought she could not hold on to Dad's hands again... wait.
Did Kiri just...?
"Don't be silly." Kiri scolded, but it was not chiding at all. The tone was motherly, the same one Haru-nee often used. "It's your father. I believe you, I really do, but I also know you are not completely okay with that."
...Saya didn't know what she was supposed to feel at that. Many emotions surged through her prana, she almost couldn't make sense of them all.
Surprise, loneliness, happiness, and gratitude, after a moment of thought. They came in such rapid succession, and so strongly, it's overwhelming.
Feels like my heart grows bigger and wants to boom my chest...
Saya wanted to reply, but at the rate prana was stirring within her, she couldn't even speak.
No... this can't go on.
First, calm down, calm down.
Close the eyes. Then slowly, breathe in, breathe out.
By the time of her 3rd exhalation, 31 seconds had passed – though it honestly felt far longer. Saya then opened her eyes again.
"You are right," Saya admitted, "but it's also true I don't feel miserable about it. I just want to tell you what you want to hear, everything I could say about my life in the past six years."
Kiri smiled, her eyes and her lips both. "You did better than I thought you would. I thought you don't like talking much, Saya."
Saya felt her own lips smirking. "I've grown in many ways."
"Is that so?" Kiri made a thoughtful expression, and her eyes looked Saya up and down.
Oh no. Saya realized she had screwed up. Kiri would definitely bring up–
It was Kiri's turn to smirk. "Your height certainly didn't change much."
I knew it!
"Wrong." Saya felt a touch defensive about that. "It's you who grew up too much. You are taller now than Haru-nee was when she was our age, six years ago."
An amused hum escaped Kiri's mouth. "You say that like it is a bad thing."
That statement reminded Saya of how easily Kiri picked up and carried her around. Part of it was definitely Genestellar strength being disproportionate to their weight, but it was definitely also because she was awfully short for her age.
I don't know if I am supposed to be delighted, or annoyed about that...
Saya shook her head. That conundrum wasn't important, not for now anyways. Everything that needed saying had already been said; now it was Kiri's turn.
With that in mind, Saya nudged Kiri's hand holding hers.
"Your turn, Kiri."
"My turn, indeed."
Kirika pulled her hand from Saya's, resting it back to her own lap.
To be honest, she didn't really want to let go. However, it was a necessary precaution – for her friend and for herself.
Even after all her training, she didn't have absolute confidence in reigning her emotions. To begin with, Kirika could barely call herself unemotional; certain emotions were difficult for her to feel or gasp, but she could express herself just fine for feelings she was used to.
After all, there was no denying the fact intense emotions often induced involuntary actions in her. Body tensing, teeth clenching, eyes narrowing, hands clenching–
If I gripped too hard, it will hurt.
Kirika didn't want that sort of avoidable interruptions to interfere with their conversation, not even for a few seconds.
With that in mind, Kirika shut her eyes. Finally, she got to this point. At last, she could share her story with one of the precious few who should know.
It's unfortunate I may not share everything... but I will manage.
Saya still had that persistence and stubbornness Kirika knew by heart. Knowing that, the little gremlin would come to uncover everything... eventually, later in the future.
Now, to begin...
Of course, it all begins with dear sister.
Like always.
"A week after I sent that video to you, Haruka left our hometown, and disappeared."
Saya's large, doll-like scarlet red eyes widened a fraction, surprise clearly written on her usually blank face. Kirika wished she could enjoy the sight more, with a better topic.
Kirika closed her eyes, vividly recalling every moment of that day. The memory was more than familiar to her, given she had repeated it over and over again like a broken record.
"That day," Her mouth muttered softly, "was supposed to be another lesson in the dojo. Haruka should be teaching me another one of the most advanced techniques of [Amagiri Shinmeiryuu]."
"Instead, she hugged me."
Saya let out a noise of discomfort. It seemed even she knew she wouldn't like where this was going.
I couldn't agree more.
Even so, Kirika continued. Saya needed to know at least this much, if they were to catch up about each other.
"It was not like her usual hugs. She held me so tightly, it hurt. As if I would disappear if she let go."
Which is ironic...
After all, who disappeared? Who left who? It's painful to think about. And that was just the beginning.
"Haruka thanked me, four times, and then apologized."
Each was spoken with more love and anguish than the last. Kirika could still recall each and every syllable, with painful clarity.
"Thank you, Kiri. For being my sister."
"Thank you, for seeing me for who I am."
"Thank you for the happiness you have brought me."
"Thank you."
"...I am sorry, Kiri."
The apology was quieter than the gratitude before it. Kirika didn't want to think about why... No, it would be more accurate to say she didn't want to think about any of it.
After all,
"She then used her [binding chains] on me."
"What?"
The loud interruption prompted Kirika to open her eyes. Her blue met with Saya's red again, utter shock and confusion were reflected on the red.
Haruka's personal ability as a Strega was to create semi-material chains which could bind all of creation. Matter or energy, it didn't matter; if she was given time to prepare, she could bind any specific target.
It's powerful even by Strega standards. And Haruka despised it – for it represented a part of her which she believed was unsightly – of a controlling individual, who wanted every little thing in her life to be under certain codes and rules. Saya knew these facts.
Being told Haruka had seriously used the chains she hated was already difficult to believe, but on her little sister of all people... It was absolutely unthinkable for Saya who knew Haruka almost as well as Kirika did.
I don't blame you. I felt the same back then.
Kirika wanted to say something, anything really, to assuage Saya's confusion. But unfortunately, the answers for 'why' were known to Haruka alone.
"I was afraid." Kirika said instead. "I didn't know why Haruka used her chains on me. My magic reacted then, I froze and shattered her chains."
Saya's lips twitched. Kirika knew why; neutralizing Haruka's chains with raw magic alone was a nigh-impossible feat. If it was in any other circumstance, Saya might have given praise, and Kirika would have accepted it.
But now, Kirika'd rather continue. "Haruka didn't expect me to shatter her chains, so she tried it again."
The look Saya sent her was equal parts disbelief and horror. Again, Kirika understood.
"Once I froze it again, I couldn't take it anymore. I was afraid, and I didn't understand why Haru-nee was trying to place a seal on me."
Haru-nee. A slip of the tongue. Kirika had intentionally refrained from saying that specific nickname – for a long while – but she slipped now. Force of habit? Or was it the memory?
"All of it didn't feel real. I could only ask, 'why?' and nothing else."
Not for the first time, Kirika wished she could have done something back then. To do something more than just stand there in shock and ask a baffled question.
"Haruka didn't answer me. Instead, she flashed a proud, beautific smile. Then she said, 'you really have grown' before she turned to leave."
But the younger Amagiri Kirika couldn't have done anything. She was strong, very strong for her age. But she was still a 10 years old child who loved her older sister very much.
"I couldn't follow her. I froze Haruka's chains, but her actions froze me with anxiety and fear."
That day, Haruka had scared Kirika out of her wits; she was too afraid to follow her sister. She was afraid of being attacked again, and her thoughts became a swirling mess trying to understand why.
I was too young.
The realization was as frustrating as it was painful, haunting and mocking like a late epiphany. It became her regret and motivation.
And still, that wasn't even the end of it.
"Before she left, she said one more thing."
Words which stabbed deep into her heart and her memories.
"さようなら, 霧花. 愛してる."
"Goodbye, Kirika. I love you."
Words of affection had never felt so painful until that day.
Kirika couldn't help but notice how Saya shuddered upon hearing those exact words, big crimson eyes filled with emotions which simply could not be described. It was not a glare, not really, but it was powerful nonetheless.
"Kiri..." It was soft, even more so than Saya usually was. "...Why didn't you tell me?"
There was no accusation in that tone, only concern – so strong that even Saya's normally monotonous voice was warped by it – Kirika loved that about her.
4 months after Saya moved away, Kirika sent a video about an agreement not to contact each other directly, but instead in a roundabout manner – asking their parents or guardians to contact the other party's family about each other instead of calling directly.
Certainly. Haruka's disappearance was important enough a matter to warrant sharing, even indirectly. But to be honest–
"Because," Kirika met Saya's intense stare head on, "I don't want to hasten our reunion. We promised to meet each other once we both are ready, didn't we?"
Saya narrowed her eyes. Internal conflict could be gleaned in them. Kirika could guess what it was about; whether to agree or disagree.
Ultimately, Saya sighed. Despite herself, Kirika smiled. That meant it was a reluctant agreement.
"Right." Saya admitted in a tired tone. "I would have been deeply bothered in all our years apart if you had told me this before, and I might have tried all sorts of excuses to go back to Japan. Still..."
A pout. It was so cute, it felt inappropriate for their tense conversation. "It's frustrating. You have been hurting... and I didn't know anything about it."
Kirika felt her smile drop. Not because of Saya's words, but because she was... far from done, in sharing her tale.
"Unfortunately..." It was Kirika's turn to sigh. "It's just the beginning, Saya."
"Oh." Saya frowned. "That's just great."
The sarcasm was amusing to her ears, but it was not as enjoyable as usual. Kirika shook her head – the sooner she finished, the better.
"After Haruka disappeared," Kirika allowed herself to openly grimace, "everyone in our [dojo] was shocked."
"...?" Aconfused noise escaped Saya. "Isn't that a given? Haru-nee is important to everyone in your clan."
True. Saya already knew, so Kirika normally had no need to point it out.
The Amagiri (天霧) clan was a family of martial artists founded in the 1500s by warriors during the [Sengoku] period. They were renowned for their [Amagiri Shinmei Ryuu] school of martial arts, a comprehensive art meant for the constant warfare of that era.
Being about 500 years old at this point, the clan had branched into a number of bloodlines – many adopting different names – with most retaining their traditional culture and lifestyle. At present, each bloodline owned family dojos which taught aspects of their root's martial arts.
Kirika and Haruka were daughters of the so-called 'main branch' or the bloodline which had kept their surname. Haruka was the older daughter, so naturally she was to be the heiress and the next clan head. Her importance went without saying, not just to Kirika.
However, it was meant to emphasize what Kirika had to say next.
"Everyone," Kirika repeated, "everyone but my father, that is."
There was a moment of silence, of utter stillness, as the weight of that sentence sank in.
Then in just an instant – Saya's gaze became overwhelmingly cold.
"He knew." This time Kirika could hear the accusation in Saya's face. "He knew Haru-nee would leave."
Kirika knew exactly what thoughts were swirling in Saya's mind. After all, it was the exact same line of thoughts she had, 6 years ago.
A shocking conclusion led to disbelief, yet disbelief wouldn't stop confusion. Confusion led to dark, dark thoughts of denial and doubt; which would give birth to a seething, writhing emotion known as anger.
Recalling the emotions of that moment was so effortless, it was almost questionable that 6 years had passed since then. Still, Kirika had to admit her feelings now were nowhere as intense as in that day. Certainly less than Saya's, at this moment.
It's like the memory became a scar.
It was easy to remember how a scar was carved, sometimes to the degree of retroactive phantom pains. But in the end, memories were only past experiences, and it could never stimulate more than freshly gained experiences.
Even so, it was more than sufficient. Kirika merely wanted to feel things Saya was feeling in this shared time. No more, no less.
"I thought the same. Father didn't even bother trying to hide it. It's just like him."
It was both a compliment and a mockery for the man who gave Kirika half her blood. Though Saya might not understand in that angered state.
"But I wanted to trust him. It was merely a baseless assumption from a ten-year old child, after all. So when I confronted him, I only asked things I should ask."
And at that age, young Kirika only asked the things which truly mattered.
"I asked him if he had any idea where my sister, his daughter, could be going."
Haruka was closer to that man than Kirika ever was, after all.
"I asked him why did he not call the police to search for her whereabouts."
Even in that age Kirika already knew the so-called police force was useless in certain matters. Haruka made sure of it. But the question was intended as a test, for the father known as Amagiri Masatsugu.
"He didn't answer me. He only told me bluntly, that I wasn't ready for the truth."
"..."
Kirika could see the exact moment Saya's patience was up.
Saya forcefully closed her eyes while gritting teeth, prana leaking out from her very being. The smaller girl's hand gripped the bedcover so hard, it was a wonder it didn't tear apart. Her entire body was shaking, because the intensity of her rage was simply too much to contain.
Your fire burns brightest when it's for me...
It's truly a humbling feeling, when one became righteously furious on another's behalf.
...That part of you really don't change, I see.
Despite herself, Kirika couldn't help but feel slightly happy, like a small warmth in a cold, turbulent storm of emotions. Her precious one never did fail to make her feel better, even if just a little.
I hope I can do the same to you – to cool down that flame with my cold.
"So." Kirika began again, and Saya twitched – even trembling in anger like that, Saya was still listening. "Once I heard that. I disowned him."
Saya snapped her eyes open, pure shock managed to overwhelm fury, her expression morphed into what could only be described as incredulity.
"What?" It was not quite a yell, but for Saya, it might as well be one.
"I wasn't as blunt as him," Kirika admitted with a small smile, tinged with a sick sense of satisfaction, "but I basically said, it's a shame Haruka's father is not my father as well."
"Kiri, you..." Saya looked at her like she grew a 2nd head. "You are serious."
"I am." Kirika dropped her smile, so Saya could see how serious she was.
"I left our hometown with only my allowance. I threw away my old phone so that man could not locate me."
After all, that man probably only expected Haruka to leave. Kirika could still recall it – the grim, spiteful pleasure – with only a moment's reminiscence.
"But how–" Saya halted for a deep breath, clearly to calm herself down, before she began again with a half-surprised, half-angered face. "Were my Dad and Mom lying about how you were doing, this whole time?"
Hum. Kirika had expected that question to come a bit later, but it seemed Saya too, had become sharper in their years apart.
"Not at all. Neither of them is aware about Haruka or me leaving the Amagiri house," Kirika explained, "the things they heard, all came from me."
Saya's anger nearly faded completely into surprise. "You have been calling them?"
"While I am on the run, yes." Kirika said as casually as she could. "Our agreement didn't forbid me from simply contacting your parents, so I simply told them how I was doing, with omitted details, of course."
Annoyance marred Saya's features. "But they often said it was Haru-nee who called them."
Kirika felt a pang of guilt in her heart. Time to confess for her crime... "That's not Haruka. It's me, in disguise."
Annoyance gave way to incredulity on Saya's face, once again. "You have been tricking my Dad and Mom?"
"If you want to," Kirika offered placidly, "I could show you my Haruka disguise. It's not particularly hard."
"That's not the point." Saya's frown deepened. "I don't even have the words to... Kiri, give me time to think."
The request was expected, and thus easy to oblige. Kirika found herself staring at Saya, taking in every little detail as the bluenette thought hard, and it showed.
Contemplation turned into realization. Realization was followed by both rational logic, and irrational emotions. The rationale became acceptance, while the irrationale became a variety of emotions. All of that in just 30 seconds.
Kirika could roughly guess what Saya was about to say. But for the moment, she didn't really feel like analyzing them. Not when being judged.
"I'm sure," Saya began, staring pointedly, "you can tell. But contrary to my face, I am quite angry."
'At you', was left unsaid. But it was more than enough to amplify the guilt. Kirika could never get used to the feeling of having wronged someone she cared about.
"Don't apologize to me. I know how weird you are, and I understand." A demand, and a scolding. Saya rarely did either, but when she did, Kirika listened. "After all, I am not the one you should apologize to, Kiri."
The chiding tone actually shamed Kirika more than the anger directed at her. It broke her will to remain silent. "I know. As soon as I meet your parents in person, I promise."
"Good." Saya's intensity didn't lessen. "I am not going to say anything about you and your dad. But did you really have to leave your home?"
"Staying there," Kirika raised her voice a bit, because thatwas not something she would apologize for, "would not have helped me find Haruka."
"Kiri..." The way Saya called her name was soft, placating. "I'll take a shot in the dark. Tell me, are you... involved, legally or otherwise, with an organization while on the run?"
Bravo. Kirika had to resist the urge to say that, given how accurate Saya's conclusion was.
Instead, Kirika only nodded solemnly. "Yes. Multiple organizations, in fact."
A long, painfully drawled sigh escaped Saya. "Does that mean you have secrets to keep?"
The thought pained Kirika more than she had expected, when Saya expressed it so openly. "Unfortunately, yes. However..."
Despite herself, Kirika felt the beginnings of excitement stirring in her prana. Unlike the issues with Haruka's disappearance or Masatsugu, she was actually looking forward to this – about the encounters which had shaped her destiny in the last 6 years.
"I will not lie. I will tell you everything I am allowed to. Right now, I have secrets I may not share... but even that will change in the future, Saya."
Saya met her declaration with a silent, judging look. Once again, Kirika met it head on, because none of her words was a lie.
The silent judgment then shifted into a smile which reached the eyes – the shift took Kirika by surprise – before Saya opened her mouth.
"I trust you, Kiri." It was both nonchalant and full of confidence. "Tell me what you believe I should hear."
...What I believe you should hear?
Kirika had to admit; the amount of trust Saya was willing to give her even now made her feel very, very happy.
"Thank you," Kirika felt words alone were insufficient to convey her feelings, but she said it anyways, "I will not stain that trust."
And that's a promise.
For a moment, Kirika thought on the script in her head. The things she had to say, the things she might not say. Words to give, words to expect.
A nod to herself. "To be honest..."
"My fate probably changed since I met a certain man who broke the common sense of this world."
And... that's it! How do you think? To those curious, the last sentence Kirika said was indeed a confirmation there will be more OCs in this story.
Honestly, I don't feel like explaining why this is so late. I feel like whatever reasons I have would sound like excuses. So I am just going to sum it up as a combination of writer's block, insufficient time management skills, and laziness.
And with that said~ Merry Christmas, and Happy New Years!
Thank you for following the development of "Asterisk Winter"!