Chapter Seven

Ayame Kusanagi

Rubbing his nose, Shin-ju wondered whether it was the draft in the Literature Clubroom or the dust that caused him to sneeze. He didn't let it bother him too much, and bent over his work again.

It was ten minutes after four in the afternoon, and as the second member of the Prontera Academy's schoolpaper Visor, it was his job to proofread the next issue's articles. The boy found the task tedious, but found small comfort in correcting other people's mistakes. It made him think that, even with all the peer pressure, choosing the road to Acolytehood was the right move for him.

"You done with the layouts yet?"

Shin-ju looked up at the sound of the female voice.

"Uh, yeah, Chief," Shin-ju answered, seeing the black-haired girl walk into the room. "They're on your table when you're ready."

The girl had been moving in and out of the Literature Clubroom for the past week, conducting interviews and covering Training Ground events for news items to put in the Visor. She'd come into the Literary Club Room, check on Shin-ju, leave some work for him, then go out to do more fieldwork. She never gave him her name, and she never asked him for his. As a formality, Shin-ju addressed her as "Chief"—a shortened term for "Editor-In-Chief," the position she held in the Visor.

The girl strutted to a table and threw her handbag carelessly over a pile of old articles. Then she walked to a wall-hung mirror to fix her hair and apply more of her thick black eyeliner.

"Good," she said, without looking at Shin-ju. "That puts us on schedule. I still have a few more prospective interviews today, so don't mind if I just leave you the raw material."

Shin-ju nodded absently, his attention more focused on the article he was correcting. It wasn't like she did much else besides leave more work for him to do every other day.

"Have you met Architect Angelo?" she asked while fixing her makeup. "I can't believe his attitude. I came into his office to ask for an interview, and you know what he said? He yelled at me, 'What! An interview? Don't you already know who I am?' I mean, that was okay, like, he is a rich bastard, but then he asked me, 'Who are you, anyway?' I mean, what the hell? I used to study Architecture for eighteen months under him, and he didn't have the gall to even remember who I was? Fuck!"

Shin-ju smiled. She always seemed to have something to complain about, and he was already beginning to get used to hearing an occasional swear word from the girl.

"So, like, I kept my cool and told him who I was. He was like, 'Oh, dear me, I meet so many people... Such is the life of a Master Architect, you'll never do without a Secretary or two…' I mean, fuck—I have half a mind to write a smear article about him. The Visor is, after all, about truth, right?"

She twisted her body in front of the mirror, looking at it from every angle and making sure her curves were obvious enough. "Everybody knows he doesn't even get commissions anymore. His designs are just plain faggoty. Why do you think he's teaching? For sure it isn't because he's 'doing it as his noble duty to society' as he says so. Who the hell is he trying to fool? Damn, I hate him so much… he's probably the main reason why I shifted to a Literature major."

"Oookay," Shin-ju muttered, still trying to concentrate on his work.

"Anyway," she snapped while pulling her shirt down, "I probably won't be back 'til tomorrow, so don't wait up if you're planning to. I got a few more potential interviews, like I said. Will you be okay on your own?"

He nodded, glancing at her briefly. "Sure," he answered.

"Aight. Here," she said, snatching a few sheets of paper from her handbag and walking over to Shin-ju's table. "Turn these into articles, aight? Nothing fancy, just the usual thing you do. Need 'em tomorrow."

"Got it, Chief."

At that, the girl turned on her heels and walked briskly towards the door, snatching her handbag without missing a step.

"By the way," she piped up as she passed through the doorway. "You're from Cape Izlude, right?"

"Uh… no," a puzzled Shin-ju called. But she was already outside the room when he answered.

She peeked inside for a second. "Well, did you just come in from a vacation there? You got a real sexy tan going," she winked smilingly at him before withdrawing her head from the doorway.

Amused, the boy looked over his shoulder at the door. "Uh, I didn't either, but thanks," he mused.

"Oh, okay," her voice came from outside the room. "Say, what's your name, by the way?"

"Uh…" he began, turning back to his work. "…it's Shin-ju."

Silence. Shin-ju thought she must have already left.

A few seconds later he heard the door creak open, and the girl stood in the doorway, looking at him. The boy looked over his shoulder, and their eyes met for a moment.

"Shin-ju?" she repeated, stressing the syllables in his name.

He smiled and nodded in reply, his eyes closed. Then he bent over his work again.

•••

Several minutes later Shin-ju sat up, looking down at the article he was correcting. A particular sentence in the item stumped him. He wasn't exactly sure whether to correct it, to leave it as it was, or to delete it entirely. His pencil lay between the fingers of his right hand, hanging in midair as he pondered.

It was a tough decision to make. He soon found himself wondering what he'd do if he were faced with such a choice in real life…

•••

"Hi," a tender female whisper came from behind him. The pencil fell from Shin-ju's fingers as the girl's arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders in an affectionate embrace.

Shin-ju sat on his stool frozen, a doltish look plastered on his face. He had no idea that the girl was standing right behind him for the past several minutes, and now had him trapped in a hug from behind. The girl rested her head on Shin-ju's shoulder as her arms snaked towards his chest, slowly tightening the embrace.

Shin-ju felt the girl's ample chest pressing against his back—he swallowed and quickly opened his mouth to speak.

"Uh… Chief," he asked quietly, turning his eyes upward stupidly. "'Severything okay?"

The girl laughed softly and withdrew, lifting her head from his shoulder and sliding her arms off his shoulders. She took a nearby stool and sat on it, legs apart. She grasped the front rim of the stool between her thighs and leaned forward, favoring Shin-ju with her exquisite Payonese stare.

"I'm sorry," the girl confessed, smiling apologetically. "I didn't recognize you."

"Huh?" Shin-ju stammered.

"Your face changed a bit, that's why," she continued, reaching up to touch the tip of Shin-ju's nose with her finger. "Back then, it was still soft and round-ish… now it's a little more angular. And your voice broke pretty nicely, too."

He stared at her twinkling brown eyes, trying to make sense out of what she was saying.

"Sorry, but… I don't think I'm following," he apologized, eliciting another fond giggle from the girl.

"Shin-ju, don't you remember me?" The girl leaned closer to Shin-ju and moved her head to the side, trying to look as though she was talking from underneath him.

Shin-ju swallowed again, trying to keep his eyes from the drooping neckline of her shirt.

"You don't, do you," she said quietly. "Two years ago? West Water Channel? You saved us when the bridge fell. You even yelled at me to run and get help."

Recognition came over Shin-ju's countenance. She was the group's leader, the girl he yelled at to get help from the Constabulary. It was no wonder why he thought the girl's hairstyle, clipped to form a plume behind her head, looked so familiar.

"Hey, yeah," Shin-ju answered, his mouth slowly forming a smile. "Now I remember. Your hair was longer back then."

The girl nodded.

"Sorry I never got your name, though…" the boy apologized.

She laughed. "Naw, 'sokay. I never told you, anyway. I feel like so retarded… I mean, here you were, right in front of me, and I never took a good look at you until now. And it's been, like, a week since you signed up… Anyway, my name is Ayame Kusanagi... and I can't begin to tell you how great it is to see you again."

•••

Over the next hour, Shin-ju and Ayame talked about themselves over some coffee and white chocolate. They shared their class sections, their schedules, and their boarding addresses. As they chatted, Shin-ju noticed that Ayame laughed and edged closer to him with every little thing he said about himself. He didn't know what he was saying that made her so flirty.

"So," Shin-ju said, trying to change the subject, "about your interview with Architect Angelo today…"

"Augh," Ayame groaned, rolling her eyes. "I don't think I'm gonna put it in the next issue. I've always hated the guy, so I guess I'll just replace his spot in the paper with an article about the Training Grounds plumbing system."

Shin-ju nodded, chewing on a square of white chocolate. "Y'know, I hope you don't mind me saying so, but you seem to hate a lot of things."

She laughed easily, placing her elbow on the edge of Shin-ju's table. "Yeah, I guess I do," she admitted, resting her cheek on her hand. "I guess I just don't know why everything has to be so fucking complicated in life."

"Like what?"

"Everything," she answered, glancing out the window. "School, the Visor, my social life... I mean, just now, the interview with Architect Angelo just rubbed me in such a bad way. He told me he didn't have a minute to spare for an interview, and then he took fifteen minutes telling me just why he didn't have a minute. It's so… just fucking retarded, if you know what I mean."

Shin-ju's smile faded while he listened. He nodded when she finished.

"But, hey, how about you, Shin-ju?" Ayame piped up, eyeing the boy with another one of her sweet Payonese grins. "You look pretty sober."

Shin-ju raised an eyebrow. "I do?"

"Yeah," she said, moving her stool closer to him. "I mean, if you're wallowing in deep shit like I am, you sure don't show it."

Shin-ju smiled and straightened, trying to find the right words. "Well… I dunno," he answered. "I just try to live a life of no regrets, I guess. I mean, we all gotta deal with these things every now and then anyway, so… for my part, I just try to make the right choices all the time. It's a given that things almost never turn out the way we want them to."

Ayame narrowed her eyes mockingly. "Hm," she sniffed. "You mean, like, just make the right choices, and to hell with the outcome?"

"Yeah, pretty much. But even then, things still don't turn out the way I want them to. I just feel better inside."

"Sounds pretty retarded."

Shin-ju laughed. "I wonder what isn't, for you."

Ayame laughed again. Then she raised her arms over her head and stretched while Shin-ju glanced out the window.

"What time is it?" Shin-ju asked, noticing the fading color of the sky.

Ayame yawned. "It's a little past five, I guess."

"Already? Geez, I must've lost track of time."

The girl watched as Shin-ju tidied up his desk and began shoving his belongings into his backpack.

"Oh, hey," Ayame said suddenly. "You, uh, going somewhere?"

"Yeah, the football fields," Shin-ju said, putting on a sweater. "I'm supposed to meet someone there. We were gonna compare notes."

She looked on blankly while he slung his backpack over his shoulder.

"So, uh… I'll see you around?" Shin-ju asked.

Ayame nodded distractedly, mouthing a soundless "yeah."

Shin-ju returned the nod, a goofy smile on his face. This was a really awkward goodbye.

"Bye," Shin-ju said, trying to sound as genial as possible. Then he made his way to the door.

Ayame bit her lip as she watched him leave. Then, at the last moment, scampered off her seat and grabbed her handbag from the table.

"Ah, hey, wait up," she called, causing Shin-ju to stop at the doorway and look at her.

An inapt moment of silence followed.

"Do you, uh," she stammered, motioning clumsily with her hand. "I mean, would you mind if I, uh… tagged along?"

Shin-ju stood at the doorway, blinking.

•••

"…I like WordTwist 'cause it's so much easier to understand, as opposed to Physics. It also feels more rewarding after solving a WordTwist puzzle, 'cause in Physics, you get a solution that you hardly understand. So can we make a deal, like, I teach you WordTwist, and you teach me Physics? That way, we'd be…"

Joanne shook her head. "No," she laughed quietly in self-depreciation. "That's too goofy."

Joanne sat alone on a wooden picnic tabletop, facing the football fields. While other Novices played ball games in the grassy fields and walked past in the stone pathwalk behind her, she took a deep breath and tried to practice her lines again.

"WordTwist is a really fun game to play, 'cause in the end you get to figure things out. I thought that maybe you'd like to try it, 'cause you seem to be the kind of guy who likes taking challenges and solving problems. I mean, who knows, right? In the end, we might be able to figure each other out and…"

"Ack! No, no, no! Now that's just waaay too creepy!" Joanne squealed, unknowingly causing a few passing Novices in the pathwalk to glance in her direction curiously.

Sighing heavily, she placed her hands behind her on the table surface and leaned back. Feeling the mild Midsummer wind blowing through her short blonde hair, she closed her eyes. She sniffed the soothing scent of pine that the breeze brought with it. It calmed her senses enough for her to try again—this time, without hiding behind the guise of a WordTwist puzzle book.

"I've been a loner all my life. Since my parents divorced, I've never really had anyone to talk to. I don't really mind, I mean, a little solitude can be good for you sometimes. I just can't ignore the fact that there's a big empty hole in my life, and every day I'm reminded that I'm alone in this world. But these days I've seen a glimmer of hope, a ray of light that fills me up and moves me forward. I've realized that I should stop being invisible and open up to a special someone, and I think that someone is… you, Shin-ju. I want you to know how much I like you, and what my feelings are for you, but… I'm just scared about how you'd react…"

"Scared about who'd react to what?"

Joanne half-jumped out of her skin at the sound of Shin-ju's boyish voice behind her. Fumbling the WordTwist book in her hands, she stumbled off the picnic tabletop and stood on the bench, a panicky look on her face as she turned to face him.

"Shin-ju!" she stammered, smiling down stupidly at the boy. "Wow, hey! I didn't know you were there! You, uh… you sure know the best time to show up!"

Shin-ju returned the smile, secretly trying to figure out what exactly Joanne meant with her last line.

"Er, yeah," the boy said. "Sorry I'm late though. I ran into, er… something retarded. OW!"

Joanne stiffened at Shin-ju's high-pitched yelp. She looked on, bewildered, as a black-haired girl in a trench coat stepped out from behind him.

"That's not what I told you to say!" the black-haired girl admonished, knuckling Shin-ju in the arm.

Shin-ju grinned apologetically, rubbing the tender spot in his behind. "I couldn't help myself! But why pinch me so hard?"

Joanne's eyes widened as she recognized the girl.

"Yami?" she whispered.

At that, Ayame turned to her old friend and grinned. "Hi, Joie, how've you been!"

"Oh my gosh! Yami!" Joanne squealed, jumping over the tabletop and running towards the pathwalk. "It's been so long!"

Shin-ju watched with amusement as Joanne and Ayame hugged each other. He remembered the day he first saw the two girls. Back then, both were hanging on for dear life when the rusty bridge fell into the West Water Channel. He wondered if this moment, with the two friends squealing and hugging each other, would still have come to pass if he wasn't there to help them.

The three spent the next two hours together at the picnic table, chatting and catching up. Shin-ju learned that the two other girls in the group had likewise moved on from Architecture to other careers after their near-fatal episode at the West Water Channel. One had moved on to take up Chivalry in Cape Izlude, and the other had decided to become an Acolyte in Juno. Ayame, for her part, shifted to a Literature course, while Joanne stubbornly stayed in Architecture to one last try at cracking the tough major.

As happy as Joanne was at seeing Ayame again after so long, she was also a bit disappointed at another missed chance. She had wanted to talk to Shin-ju alone today. She had hoped that today would be the day that she could tell the boy about how she felt, but sadly, it was not to be.

Still, she knew that with Ayame in the picture, she'd have more opportunities for that in the future.

•••

Shin-ju burped.

"'Scuse me," he uttered to no one in particular as he stepped into his Dormitory's empty lobby. He had just come from a diner near the football fields, where his two new friends had treated him to a hefty dinner. He was grateful for the girls' friendly gesture, but he had never really gotten used to eating so much at one time before. He clutched his stomach mournfully as he made for the stairs.

As he passed by the Dormitory mailboxes, something caught his eye. In one of the pigeonholes, a mailing envelope stuck out. He took a closer look, and—could he believe his eyes—it was addressed to him.

Shin-ju swallowed. There was only one person in Midgard who ever wrote to him, and she was someone he had wanted to desperately to forget…

Listlessly, he reached for the envelope and drew it out.

•••

In his Dorm room, Shin-ju heaved a sigh of relief. The letter's sender was Mikieru Makimachi. He read the contents under the light of an oil lantern on his study desk.

Greetings, Shin-ju.

As of your reading this letter, I am still in Juno. I had managed to reach it after five days of riding, and the Eternal City is magnificent. God willing, I will take you here one day to see the sights yourself. I am sure you will like what you see.

I have already spoken to my Master about the Stones. We both believe that, while Al de Baran is now safe and times are silent throughout Midgard, there are certain things about these Stones that cannot be ignored. That is why I have decided to stay in Juno for a while longer.

I mentioned at my leaving that I would be gone for three weeks. Now, it looks more like three months. It is quite likely that I will not be able to see you again until after your first semester of classes have finished.

I am going to continue my training in the Holy Arts under my Master for the next three months. I know this news will not be geared towards your liking, but please trust me on this decision. It is for the best. It is for you.

I will not be able to send you the money you need for your schooling expenses for now. I am sorry to tell you this, but you will have to find some way of earning a little for your food and school supplies. You can ask Sister Murakami for a few zenny every now and then—just tell her that I will pay her back the moment I return.

I will write to you again when I can. In the meantime, do well in your studies and do not cause any trouble for Lara. I am looking forward to taking you in as an Acolyte as soon as my own training here in Juno is done.

Godspeed,

"Senpai"

Shin-ju put the letter down and raised his eyes. A part of him wondered what the heck it was that Mikieru still hadn't learned about the Holy Arts, being as proficient as he already was as a Cleric. But the even more pressing worry was that he wouldn't have any financial support for the next three months.

For the next several moments, Shin-ju tried to figure out what to do. Outside, the sky slowly turned to darkness, giving way to a deep blue night sky filled with winking stars.

•••

Juno. The silence in St. Capitolina square was about to be broken.

A young female Acolyte ran through the East Wing of St. Capitolina Square's, earning looks both awed and stunned from the Acolytes and Priests who took notice of her breathless form.

This particular Acolyte was gifted in the True Seeing skills—that is, Holy Arts that focused on the use of the eyes. Even at the young age of fifteen, her Ruwach spell was already not only powerful enough to dispel the darkness and see the unseen, but it also enabled her to see into great distances without the aid of a spyglass or telescope.

She had been at the top level of one of St. Capitolina Square's spires only moments before, using her special Ruwach skill to study the rising moonscape. It wasn't long before she turned her eyes downward to rest them for a while—and, looking into the desert landscape that sprawled at Juno's northeastern portions, saw an incredible sight that sent shivers down her spine.

Aspiring Brave Acolytes, both young and old, instantly shot to their feet when they heard the words that the gifted Acolyte was now yelling through the halls.

"The Lionheart is fighting the Kitsune!

"The Lionheart is fighting the Kitsune!

"THE LIONHEART IS FIGHTING THE KITSUNE!"

•••

Only moments before, Mikieru stood alone in a rock-walled, hollowed-out crevice in the Junotopian Desert. He was in full-battle gear—black Cleric's coat, steel-toed boots, knuckled gloves—and naturally, the Redeemer. He had spent the past hour here, wondering how a sprawling sandy desert and a lush green forest could co-exist in a city. Then again, he knew that he was in Juno—anything had to be possible here.

He looked over his shoulder when he heard footsteps in the sand. His Master had arrived.

Mikieru eyed Rubalkabara curiously. The old man still wore his plated armor, gauntlets and greaves, but now he had a kite shield and iron mace slung over his back.

The Cleric eyed the mace on Rubalkabara's back.

"Interesting," Mikieru commented, turning to face his large Master. "A standard-issue iron mace. You are not using your famed Holy Weapon on this battle?"

Rubalkabara snorted, taking a position across the sandy crevice. "You hardly deserve to see it in action," the High Exorcist claimed. "I am sure even a standard-issue would be more than you can handle… if wielded by me."

Mikieru narrowed his eyes at this mocking challenge. His lips curled into a wry smile.

"So this is it, then?" the Cleric retorted. "The ultimate Holy Art begins with a lesson in hand-to-hand combat?"

"As it will," Rubalkabara replied. "There is a reason why Acolytes are schooled in the Arts, Sciences, and Combat basics before being taught any actual Holy Art."

Rubalkabara raised a gauntleted hand as he elucidated. "Take the Blessing trance, for instance," the old man explained. "What would the Blessing be worth if you had no strength of mind and muscle to begin with? Simple math, Mikieru. Zero, multiplied by any number no matter how large, is still zero."

Mikieru said nothing at this.

"I never taught you this," Rubalkabara said, lowering his hand. "But then again, you never asked. You were content in absorbing all my lessons no matter how poorly you understood them. This proved to be your greatest strength, Mikieru, but it has also made you weak as you are right now."

Rubalkabara took the iron mace from back and pointed it at Mikieru.

"Zero multiplied by any number is still zero," the old man drawled. "I will show you how this simple mace will be more than a match for your vaunted Redeemer."

"Your words are nothing," Mikieru said.

Rubalkabara raised an eyebrow. "Unh?"

Mikieru slowly took the Redeemer into his hands.

"You assume dangerously much, Father Rubalkabara," Mikieru said, pointing one end of the long quarterstaff-mace at the old man. "You presume that I am weak, that I had learned nothing over the past ten years. Out of respect for my former Master, I will tell you this much. You are dead wrong. And tonight, I will show you precisely why."

Mikieru shot an intense stare into Rubalkabara's eyes. The old man returned the stare, taking note of Mikieru's mysterious green Elf-eye.

Then, after a moment, Rubalkabara guffawed openly.

"Foolish Apprentice," the High Exorcist laughed darkly, taking the kite shield into his left hand. "The apologies will be mine tonight. Prepare yourself."

They faced off. The wind blew Rubalkabara's cape and Mikieru's black coat about, while the rising moon reflected off the menacing weapons they held in their hands.

•••

Above them, hiding behind the large rocks that lined the mouth of the crevice, a handful of Brave Acolytes stared at the two legendary Clerics. The gifted Acolyte, who had audaciously led her peers to this spot against the orders of their Priest-Instructors, looked at her companions in eager anticipation.

"Place your bets," she whispered excitedly.

•••

End of Chapter Seven