Chapter IV: True Heart
As the blinding light began to fade, Hajime realized he was alone.
“So we got separated, huh? Well, I figured we would.”
Of course, predicting this outcome didn’t make Hajime any happier about it. Furrowing his brows, he examined his surroundings.
“Looks like it’s a straight path.”
The corridor in front of him was two meters wide, two meters tall, and made entirely of the same reflective ice the maze had been. There was nowhere to retreat. The gate he’d arrived through faded away, turning into a normal ice wall. Upon turning around, all Hajime saw was himself. He returned his gaze forward and started walking down the narrow corridor. It was clearly meant for only one person to pass through.
All around him, reflections of himself walked in cadence with his gait. His footfalls echoed loudly through the corridor. Naturally, Hajime was a master of moving silently, but he saw no point in doing so at the moment. Each of his steps felt as though they were causing ripples in the ice. Not regular ripples of sound, either. No, odd as it seemed, Hajime felt as though those ripples were the sound of his heart. Each step seemed to be urging him to doubt himself, to question whether he really belonged anywhere.
It felt as though his heart was beating loudly and softly at the same time. He accepted this strange new sensation and continued walking. The corridor didn’t turn or fork at all, and after a few minutes, Hajime found himself standing in front of a massive pillar of ice. It stood in the center of a large open room, connecting the heavens and earth. Its upper and lower sections were wider than the rest, making it look like a tree of ice had taken root. There were even little branches and leaves splitting off from the upper end.
“This is still the only path, huh?”
Muttering to himself, Hajime strode over to the giant ice tree. Like everything else in the labyrinth, the ice tree was perfectly reflective. Because of how wide it was, it reflected Hajime perfectly, without any warping or distortion. As he drew closer the reflection grew more and more vivid. It was as if another Hajime lived inside the polished mirror of ice.
Once he was close enough to touch the tree, Hajime stopped and stared at his reflection. It had white hair, wore an eyepatch, and a long black coat, and had an artificial arm. Hajime’s appearance was about as edgy as it got. Seeing his fashion choices thrust in front of him like this brought Hajime to his knees.
“Shit... Now that I’m seeing it again, I realize how cringy this outfit is. How could I pick this...”
In truth, Hajime rarely ever examined himself in a mirror. Fixing his bed head was one of Yue’s favorite pastimes, so he had little reason to. And until now, he’d been focused on the enemies in front of him, so he hadn’t paid much attention to his reflection. It was only now that he was alone, with no enemies nearby, that he had time to stop and properly examine his appearance. And what he saw brought back buried memories of his dark past. It was little wonder he was so shocked.
But dyeing his hair was time he didn’t want to spend, and without his eyepatch, his Demon Eye glowed this eerie pale blue, so he had no choice but to wear it. As for his coat, Yue had sewn it for him herself, so naturally, he loved it. He needed his prosthetic arm too, since he’d lost his real one. At least, these were the excuses he told himself to justify his fashion sense. In a way, among all the things he’d faced in the labyrinth, it was this that had hurt him the most.
Had Kouki and the others seen him like this, kneeling on all fours, their jaws would have dropped open. That was how rare it was to see Hajime shaken.
“You know what, maybe the voice is right. Maybe I don’t have a place to return to in Japan.”
At least not looking like this. If he walked around Tokyo dressed like this, he’d definitely draw the wrong kind of attention. Though it was likely that wasn’t what the whispers were trying to insinuate. Hajime seemed to have misunderstood their intent. In order to correct him, the same voice he’d grown used to hearing these past few hours spoke up.
“That’s not what I meant, fool.”
“You finally showed up, huh?”
Hajime narrowed his eyes and looked up. His reflection glared down at him. Though the real Hajime was on all fours, his reflection was still standing inside the ice tree.
“I should have known that wouldn’t spook you. Or should I say, spook me?”
“Of course not. I’ve already figured out what the theme of this labyrinth is. That, plus what Amanogawa said earlier gave me all the clues I needed to figure out this was what was coming next.”
Though he was talking to his own reflection, Hajime was unfazed. The Hajime in the mirror grinned and asked, “And what theme would that be?”
“You’re me, aren’t you? You shouldn’t even need to ask.”
“Oh no. I might be you, but I’m not all of you. But you figured that out too, didn’t you?”
“Well, yeah,” Hajime said with a nod.
The Hajime within the mirror was a fictional Hajime. He’d already experienced something similar in the Haltina Woods. Of course, back there it had been monsters pretending to be Yue and the others, but he already knew labyrinths read the data of those who challenged them and were capable of creating copies.
The fake’s earlier assertion that he wasn’t all of Hajime just supported his hypothesis. Namely that the fake was another one of the labyrinth’s trials. Meaning that even if he was speaking with a carbon copy of himself, Hajime still needed to answer to advance further. Hajime got to his feet and said in annoyance, “The theme of this labyrinth is ‘conquering oneself.’ It’s a test to see whether you can overcome a version of yourself made of all the parts of yourself that you hate, of all the dark emotions you try to repress, of all the things you try to tell yourself aren’t true... Am I right?”
Hajime glanced upward. The ceiling spread out above him, but he was looking far past that, to the world that existed beyond these caverns.
“It doesn’t matter how strong you are physically if your heart’s weak. This is a trial to make sure the gods won’t find a way to manipulate you.”
“Nice going, me. One hundred points.”
Hajime’s reflection clapped in an exaggerated manner.
“God, you piss me off,” Hajime muttered. But of course, he’d just admitted that his reflection was a part of his own personality, so he was effectively saying his own arrogance pissed him off.
A moment later, though, Hajime’s reflection suddenly transformed. It stopped clapping, and its eyes started glowing red while its hair turned black. Its black coat and artificial arm, on the other hand, turned white. Its skin also darkened, resembling the swarthy pigmentation of demons.
Its colors were the exact opposite of Hajime’s. Wary of the sudden change, Hajime took a few steps back. A second later, there were two loud bangs. Both Hajime and his reflection had fired at each other. They’d moved so fast that it had been impossible to tell when they’d drawn their revolvers, or where they were about to aim.
Hajime’s black Donner shot out a crimson bullet at his reflection. Meanwhile, the reflection’s white Donner shot out a dark black bullet at Hajime. Surrounded in pitch black sparks, the bullet streaked through the ice and headed straight for Hajime’s forehead. But obviously, Hajime’s bullet had been fired with pinpoint accuracy too, and it met his reflection’s in midair. The two collided and shattered. Such an unbelievable clash was only possible because the reflection had inherited Hajime’s movements and spirit.
While Hajime may have taken a step backward, and thus retreated, he’d still been trying to kill his opponent as he ran. He hadn’t hesitated at all. These movements had been ingrained into him on a subconscious level, and he naturally radiated a silent aura of bloodlust when faced with an enemy.
“Haha, I should have known I’d predict that shot. After all, I know best what timing to fire, what thoughts go through my head when I’m fighting, and how I prefer to slaughter my enemies.”
Hajime’s reflection flashed him an irritating grin and stepped outside of the ice tree. The tree’s bark rippled as the reflection entered the real world and turned into a proper fake instead of just a reflection.
It drew a white Schlag with its white prosthetic arm and took a stance with both revolvers. Its right foot was held slightly back, and its center of gravity was low. In its right hand was Donner, held close to its chest. In its left was Schlag, held perpendicular to its body with its artificial elbow thrust forward. Donner and the shotgun loaded inside its elbow were aimed forward, while Schlag was held in reserve to cover its rear.
It was the very same Gun Kata style that Hajime had developed.
Wordlessly, Hajime took the same stance.
The two Hajime’s clashed in reality for the first time. The air in the room shook violently as they fought each other. The bloodlust radiating from each of them was strong enough to exert a physical force.
As Hajime had expected, the labyrinth had done a stellar job of copying him. He had no idea what magic was at work here, but his copy was every bit as skilled as he was. Everything from his aura to his artifacts had been recreated perfectly.
In this surreal situation, Hajime’s copy smiled derisively and said, “Now then, Hajime Nagumo. Can you defeat yourself?”
A tremendous roar split the air. Both of them had leaped forward, summoned two Cross Bits to give supporting fire, and feinted shooting their revolvers while actually pivoting into a roundhouse kick against each other.
The reason Hajime had opted for a roundhouse kick was because doing so would simultaneously let him dodge the fake’s Cross Bit barrage. Thanks to his Riftwalk-enhanced perception, Hajime was able to see the copy’s bombardment pass by him in slow motion. But of course, his opponent had done the exact same thing, for the exact same reason. Neither of them hit each other.
Their feet clashed, and they were both blown backward. In response, they both transmuted spikes out of the soles of their shoes to anchor them in place. Hajime instantly went back on the offensive. By using the spikes as a pivot, he was able to convert the force used to knock him back to rotational energy and he turned around and brandished Donner.
There was a loud clang of metal hitting metal. Hajime’s copy had done the same thing, but rotated in the opposite direction. The two gun barrels clashed against each other.
It was like Hajime was fighting a mirror. Even their exclamations were the same.
“Die.”
“Die.”
Both parties fired without hesitation, and another loud bang echoed through the room. At the same time, both Donner’s were blown backward. Like before, a pair of crushed bullets fell to the ground with a clink.
Neither of them registered the sound though; they’d both aimed Schlags at each other under their armpits. Again, they fired simultaneously. Their bullets clashed in the space perfectly in between them, and the shockwaves rattled the nearby atmosphere.
Both Hajime and the copy utilized the shockwaves to rotate their bodies yet again and fire off another roundhouse kick. The sound of their legs colliding was so loud it was hard to imagine it was two flesh and blood appendages that had just hit each other. The moment they clashed they both backed off and launched lower-angled kicks.
Again, the sound of two impossibly hard objects colliding reverberated through the room. This time though, the copy grinned. As if signaling the warm-up was over. And in truth, the time for the mirror matchup was over.
Hajime pointed Donner at the copy’s head and pulled the trigger. But the copy knocked Donner aside with its own Schalg, fouling Hajime’s aim. Hajime’s bullet only grazed the copy’s temple, and this time it was the copy who aimed Donner at Hajime’s head and fired. But Hajime had been expecting that, and he tilted his head sideways to avoid the shot. Without even bothering to look at the black streak that passed inches from his face, he aimed Schlag at the copy’s foot.
Dodging backward, the copy kicked Hajime’s Schlag away, then fired Donner at his heart. But Hajime thrust out his artificial arm and deflected the black streak of death. At such close distance, it seemed as though the two were fighting using martial arts, not guns.
They continued dodging or deflecting each other’s shots by a paper-thin margin. Both sides were accelerating their movements, trying to find an opening to rain death onto each other, but their black and crimson streaks were unable to reach their respective targets. They both used Cross Bits to try and hit each other’s blind spots, but as expected they continued to miss or clash against each other.
After a few minutes of fierce fighting, the copy finally opened its mouth.
“Damn, you’re tough. Really tough. That’s not the kind of strength a human can have. Am I right?”
“Huh?”
Hajime and the copy both cast Gale Claw onto their Donners and sliced each other’s cheeks. Drops of blood danced through the air, and the copy grinned.
“Monstrous strength, hands drenched in blood, a heart that feels nothing when killing others... What would our family think if they saw us now?”
“What’re you trying to say?”
Hajime and his copy quickly reloaded their revolvers. In the half-second it took him to spin his barrel and fill it with bullets, Hajime tried to get his copy off-balance by transmuting the ground underneath it. But the copy had been expecting that, and Hajime’s crimson sparks were met by the copy’s black ones.
“We want to go home. That’s our greatest desire, but... will that place really be home for us still?”
“......”
“Earth, and Japan especially, don’t look kindly on murderers. Who would ever accept a monster like us? Mom? Dad? What would they think if they found out their son had turned into a murderer and a monster while he was missing? They’d probably be horrified, wouldn’t they? Start wondering if we really even are their son.”
Since bullets weren’t working, the copy had decided to use words instead. But those words were more malicious and destructive than any bullet might be.
Hajime had no way of deflecting them and was forced to silently take them. Despite his internal conflict though, he continued moving with the same mechanical efficiency. He pulled a large number of hand grenades out of his Treasure Trove and primed them all with Lightning Field.
He dumped the payload at his feet, and the copy smiled. Hajime wreathed himself in crimson sparks. The copy wreathed itself in black sparks. Both had activated Diamond Skin simultaneously.
A second later, an explosion so massive it tore apart the very air rocked the room. Dazzling pillars of fire lit up the cavern, and there was a massive crater where Hajime had dropped the grenades. With a loud whoosh, two figures shot through the flames in opposite directions. They both shouldered Orkans as they slid across the ground, and fired all twelve rockets.
The area in between them turned into a sea of heat and flame. The explosions caused by the missiles colliding created massive shockwaves. Cracks ran through the floor, the walls, and even the ceiling. Because missiles weren’t as precise as bullets, some of them slipped past each other. But of course, Hajime and his copy shot those down with pinpoint revolver shots.
A second later, the copy called out as if nothing had happened, “You’re scared, aren’t you? Scared that the home you want so badly to return to vanished long ago! Scared that your family might reject you! Admit it!”
“You sure talk a lot.”
The copy spread its arms wide, one hand holding Orkan, the other Donner. He looked like an actor playing out the role of a villain. It was clear from the glee in his voice that he was enjoying revealing the fears Hajime had locked away in his heart. The copy’s voice grew even sharper and its words more caustic. Frowning, Hajime withdrew his chakrams from the Treasure Trove and launched them toward the copy.
“That’s why you couldn’t ignore Aiko Hatayama’s words. When she told you the way you live your life wouldn’t work back on Earth, you were shaken! The reason you respect her so much is because she at least tried to give you an answer to the dilemma you couldn’t solve on your own. I’m right, aren’t I!?”
“......” Hajime’s silence was proof he agreed. Sneering, the copy pulled out its own chakrams and let them loose. Though it looked like he’d thrown them haphazardly, the copy’s chakrams countered all of Hajime’s.
Hajime shot a bullet through the portal of one of the chakrams he’d kept close by. He was able to keep his aim perfect, even when he had to deal with jumps in space. His bullet popped out of one of the far portals and headed straight for the copy’s heart. But as expected, the copy wasn’t alarmed. As always, it had fired its own bullet through one of its portals to neutralize Hajime’s.
Everything Hajime did was countered perfectly. The copy continued its verbal barrage, completely unfazed by Hajime’s attacks.
“But you know, even if you’ve stopped living a lonely life, that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a monster whose hands are stained with blood. Your world, your family, they won’t accept you!”
“......”
“You told everyone you didn’t feel anything the first time you killed a person. But we both know that’s a lie! Even if you didn’t feel guilty, you definitely were afraid! Maybe you didn’t realize it at the time, but you were afraid that you were no longer the Hajime Nagumo your parents knew!”
Hajime furrowed his brows, and his reaction time slipped by a fraction of a second. In that instant, another black streak shot through the copy’s chakram and grazed Hajime’s shoulder. It was a small cut, barely worth paying attention to. But it was the first time since the battle had started that only Hajime had come out of a clash wounded.
Seeing Hajime’s hesitation, the copy continued firing off more barbed words. It planned to riddle Hajime’s heart with holes using these invisible bullets it knew were effective.
“Thank god Yue was there for you, huh? As long as you’ve got her, you can continue clinging to her even if the rest of the world rejects you.”
Ignoring the wound on his shoulder, Hajime glared coldly at his copy. Was his expressionless, ice-cold gaze his way of showing his anger? Or was it a mask to hide the fact that his ironclad resolve was finally crumbling? At least to the copy, it seemed to be the latter.
It prepared its next words, intent on destroying the largest pillar supporting Hajime’s mental state, Yue. As the pair resumed their close-combat struggle it said, “You say you love Yue, but do you really mean that from the bottom of your heart? No, you don’t.”
Disdain dripped from the copy’s voice. It continued pounding invisible bullets into Hajime’s heart.
“You’re just clinging to her.”
Fresh blood flew through the air. The copy’s bullet had grazed Hajime’s neck this time. Had the wound been even a few millimeters deeper, it would have been fatal. Hajime had survived by the skin of his teeth, but even then his expression didn’t change. However, his focus was clearly lacking. His movements were sluggish, lacking their usual sharpness. He was beginning to just barely lag behind his copy.
The copy sneered, thoroughly disappointed in Hajime.
“She only exists to protect our fragile little heart. Those feelings we’ve deluded ourselves into thinking are love are mostly just relief. We cling to her because she makes us feel safe, that’s all.”
Hajime swung Donner at his copy, but it knocked the gun upward. It then thrust Schlag into Hajime’s unguarded chest.
Having destroyed the two pillars that supported Hajime’s iron will, his love for Yue and his desire to return home, the copy was ready to deliver the final blow. If Hajime couldn’t even overcome himself, then he deserved to be buried here in this labyrinth of malice.
There was a click as the trigger was pulled. But it was Hajime who’d pulled it, not the copy.
“Ah!?”
A red streak shot forward like a meteorite. It pierced through the copy’s artificial arm, forcing it to drop Schlag. When Donner had been knocked upward Hajime had used his pinky finger as a fulcrum and flicked his wrist to flip it around and point it back down at the copy.
The copy hadn’t expected such a maneuver, and it could only gaze blankly at its own damaged arm. Naturally, Hajime had no intention of giving his copy time to recover.
He recovered his stance almost instantly, making it obvious that he’d made himself appear vulnerable earlier on purpose. Then, he kicked off the ground with such force that he left a small crater where his foot had been. He launched a decisive elbow into his copy’s stomach, knocking the air out of its lungs. And that wasn’t all.
“Gah!?”
An explosive slug shot out of his elbow, blowing the copy away. As it slammed into the ice tree behind it, it coughed up a lungful of blood. Hajime tapped his shoulder with Donner and walked slowly over to his copy. For the first time this fight, his face was showing emotion. His eyes were narrow slits, and displeasure radiated from every pore in his body.
“I get this is part of the trial and all, but... you talk way too much during a fight. If you’ve got time to spout crap, then you should spend that time thinking of ways to kill your enemy faster. For someone who’s supposed to be my copy, you sure don’t act like me.”
What had really angered Hajime was that his own fighting style had so many flaws in it. Confused, the copy unsteadily got to its feet. Its legs were wobbling, and it was clearly hurt. While it had managed to lessen the impact of Hajime’s elbow with Diamond Skin, its internal organs had still taken significant damage. Worse, its artificial arm had lost part of its functionality.
“My words come from your own heart. They’re not lies. These are things you yourself should be fearing. So how come you don’t look bothered by them at all!? You should be a broken mess right now!”
“Well, yeah, it hurts to hear. Having all my biggest fears and the darkest parts of me laid bare like this feels as bad as if someone had read aloud a chronicle of my chuuni years to a live audience.”
Hajime smiled faintly, and his copy grew even more confused.
“Then how can you smile like that!?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I knew all that without you having to tell me.”
He paused there for a second, confirming his own feelings. Then quietly continued, “You’re right that somewhere in the bottom of my heart, I’m terrified of going back home. It’s also true that while Sensei’s words saved me, they weren’t enough to erase that fear. And I know I’ve thought once or twice that... even if Japan rejects me, I’ll always have Yue.”
“Then why aren’t you shaken!? Humans can’t bear to look at their own ugliness. That’s the kind of creature they are! The more they’re forced to confront their own disgusting nature, the more they try to plug their ears, close their eyes, and pretend it doesn’t exist! And if they’re forced to face them even after trying to run from them, they break! That’s just what humans are!”
Hearing that, Hajime chuckled.
“Now where have I heard that before? Never thought someone who’s supposed to be me would take that shit so seriously.”
“......”
Of course, while the copy was a part of Hajime, it was also one of the labyrinth’s trials. And it took its job seriously. It gave Hajime a strong glare, and Hajime shrugged.
“If that’s what the definition of human is, then yeah, I guess I’m not human anymore. Maybe I really am a monster who was born in the abyss.”
“A monster, huh? But—”
The copy trailed off when it saw Hajime’s eyes. They were glowing with a radiant light, yet at the same time were as calm and still as the surface of a lake. His tone matched the look in his eyes and he said quietly but assuredly, “Sure, I might be rejected when I get home. I may not have anywhere to return to now. But even so, I’m going to keep moving forward.”
“By deceiving yourself?”
“You really think this road was such an easy one that I could have traveled this far by deceiving myself?”
Hajime casually dismissed his copy’s argument. Since his copy had Hajime’s memories, it, of course, knew Hajime was right, so it had no choice but to fall silent.
“This is how it’s always been. The opponents I’ve faced haven’t been kind enough to wait for me to solve my problems. No matter what doubts or fears I’ve had, my only choice was to turn my resolve into a weapon and push my way forward.”
That was just the kind of person Hajime Nagumo was. He’d been forced to throw away the part of him that was willing to face his own doubts and fears head-on back in the abyss. But in return, he’d forged a will of iron and gained the ability to set his own feelings aside to focus on overcoming the obstacle at hand.
One could say that was just pure stubbornness on his end. It was by no means a praiseworthy trait. However, it was what had made Hajime strong. And it was that strength that had brought Hajime this far.
The numerous obstacles he’d overcome so far gave him that strength, and that strength bore down on the copy like some invisible force. Gulping, the copy took a step backward.
“Besides,” Hajime added with a smile, “It’s laughable to think the very labyrinths that shaped me are trying to deceive me with words now.”
Hajime drew his weapons, signaling an end to the conversation. Smiling derisively at himself, the copy shook off Hajime’s intimidating aura and said, “Do you really think a monster like you will be able to live a normal life?”
“At the very least, I know there’s plenty of weirdos who like this monster.”
So I’ll be just fine... Hajime knew that if after all his struggles, he was once again forced to face that question, those weirdos would be there to help him.
“Oh yeah, there is one thing you’re wrong about.”
Hajime thought of the first weirdo who’d accepted him, and his glare turned murderous.
“It’s not most. At best it’s .1%.”
“What?”
“You said most of my feelings for Yue stem from my dependence on her. But you’re wrong, only .1% of them do. The remaining 99.9% is all love.” This, too, was just a display of Hajime’s stubbornness. But Hajime had decided to accept his feelings. Never would he feel guilty about what he thought of Yue. In fact, if the day ever came that his fear of being rejected overwhelmed him, he was confident he could tell Yue to her face that he wanted to cling to her for safety. He knew better than anyone that he was far from perfect. But he also knew that he could always rely on his beloved partner to make up for the things he lacked and to help him overcome the worst parts of himself. Because he trusted Yue completely, he could ask her for anything.
The copy could feel the love and trust contained within Hajime’s words and knew they were no lie.
“At least say it’s 10%, you show-off.”
The copy sighed. Since it had Hajime’s personality, it should have been acting more or less like him. But it was also one of the labyrinth’s trials, and that fact colored its thoughts and actions occasionally. Hajime ignored the shift in his copy’s mental state and rushed forward. Once again, both fighters started firing Donner and Schlag at each other from point-blank range.
Like always, they were evenly matched and their attacks canceled each other out. However, slowly but surely, the balance began to shift. Hajime’s bullets, kicks, Cross Bits, chakrams, and elbows were starting to connect more often than his copy’s. He was proving here and now that that elbow from earlier had been no fluke.
“Gah, you’ve surpassed me? Impossible, I didn’t feel myself getting any weaker.”
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“This is a trial about overcoming yourself. Every time you overcome your own negative emotions, your copy is supposed to get weaker. But if you avert your gaze from them, they get stronger.”
“Huh, so that’s how this works?”
As they talked, Hajime knocked his copy’s Schlag out of its hands with Donner. It fell to the ground and spun away. Hajime took advantage of the opening and shot Schlag into his copy’s side. Unable to withstand the impact, it staggered backward.
“But you haven’t conquered your emotions. You’ve just stubbornly delayed thinking about them! I would know, since otherwise, I’d be getting weaker! Our combat strength should be equal, so why is it you’re surpassing me!? I’m supposed to be you!”
The copy found it impossible to believe that someone who hadn’t overcome their issues was capable of beating it in combat. Hajime was denying the very theme of the labyrinth itself, and that fact shook the copy to its core. Hajime replied casually, “Technically you’re me from before we started fighting, right?”
“What... gah... do you mean!?”
This time Hajime crushed the copy’s right arm, and Donner along with it. It tried to counter with a shotgun blast from its elbow, but Hajime dodged easily and shot a few more bullets through the copy’s arm, destroying it completely. The fight had turned one-sided. Even though they had the same moves, the same speed, and the same thought processes, Hajime was starting to slowly outpace his copy.
The copy leaped backward and put some distance between them. The two Hajimes faced each other, but they no longer looked identical. The copy was bleeding all over, and its artificial arm no longer functioned.
“You don’t get it? You were created from the data this labyrinth took of me. It probably took that data the moment I entered the maze, or a few minutes before I came to this room. In other words, you’re me from half an hour ago, which means all I had to do was get stronger. That’s all.”
“No way... That’s impossible!”
As impossible as it seemed, that was reality.
“You know, I’m grateful. Thanks to you, I was able to get a good look at my fighting style. I never thought I still had this many bad tics and wasted movements.”
“You mean you fixed all that in the middle of combat!? Impossible!”
The copy understood what Hajime was saying. But it found it unfathomable that anyone could actually do that. It trembled in fear and looked at Hajime as though he were a monster. On the other hand, Hajime just looked disappointed.
“You’re me, so you really shouldn’t deny yourself. Finding a path to survival through the jaws of death is how we’ve always come out alive. If I can just move a little bit faster, draw out a little bit more mana, hit with a little more force, predict even half a move more, then I’ll surpass my enemy. That’s the mindset we’ve always fought with, isn’t it?”
The copy stayed frozen in place for a few seconds, then drooped its shoulders. It then smiled bitterly and surrounded itself with its Cross Bits. It was preparing to fight bare-handed.
“Sheesh. I never thought I’d see the day someone powers their way through this trial with stubbornness alone. If you’d at least tried to deny your feelings, I would have grown strong enough to stand a chance.”
“Don’t be stupid. No matter what you did you wouldn’t have stood a chance. After all, you’re just a fake. I’m going to smash that annoying face of yours to bits.”
“What are you, a masochist?”
Finally, the final round began. The battle was decided in an instant. There was another loud bang, but only one person was blown backward. The copy slumped against the far wall, its lower half blown clean off. Defeated, it started to grow translucent, like a mirage. It no longer had the strength to speak, but it smiled in satisfaction.
With a deep sigh, Hajime finally dropped his stance. But for good measure, he fired another three bullets into the head of the disappearing copy. It spasmed in pain, but before it could protest it turned into particles of light and vanished. Still, Hajime felt as though he heard the words “Learn to read the mood, you monster,” echo through the room.
Holstering Donner and Schlag, Hajime sighed again. Finding nothing else in the room, he walked back over to the ice tree.
“......”
Hajime looked at his reflection, reminded once again of how different he was from the person who’d been summoned away from Japan. He reached out his hand and saw his callused palm reflected back at him. This was the palm that had slaughtered everyone who’d stood in his path. He stared at his face and palm for a few seconds, then balled his fingers into a fist.
“No matter what future’s waiting for me, I won’t stop struggling.”
I can worry about whether I made the right choices or not later... Hajime smiled his usual fearless smile. Suddenly, one part of the ice wall melted away, inviting Hajime to head even deeper into the labyrinth. He turned on his heel and strode forward. Not once did he look back.
The blinding light around Shizuku faded. She quickly glanced around at her surroundings.
“Kaori?”
Kaori had been close enough to touch when they’d entered the gate of light, but she was nowhere to be seen now. Neither was anyone else. Shizuku was alone, at the entrance to a single corridor of ice. We’ll always be alone.
“Ah!”
Chills ran down Shizuku’s spine. She glanced about, searching for the source of the voice. But no matter where she looked, all she saw was herself. She felt her heart squeeze up. How weak can you get? Freaking out the moment you end up alone?
“Nagumo-kun...”
Still, she ended up unconsciously calling out Hajime’s name. That ended up surprising her even more than the fact that she’d gotten so weak. Panicking, she kept telling herself it was just a slip of the tongue and didn’t mean anything.
There was no one else to protect her here. Besides, Shizuku Yaegashi herself was meant to be protecting others, not being protected. That was how it had been all this time. And that was how it would continue to be.
“So I’m fine.”
Shizuku squeezed her eyes shut and slapped her cheeks. She was perhaps a bit too enthusiastic in trying to pep herself up, as her slap echoed loudly down the hallway. Rubbing her swelling cheeks, Shizuku walked down the corridor. Her back was straight, and she was looking aloof and dignified.
I’m fine. I’ll be fine... She told herself that over and over as she gripped the hilt of her katana to calm herself.
“Wait, that’s...”
Finally, she spotted a faint light at the end of the corridor. As she got closer she realized she was looking at a large room with a giant ice tree glowing at its center. At the base of the tree trunk, she spotted a humanoid figure. Thinking it was one of her comrades, Shizuku smiled in relief and sprinted forward. But it wasn’t.
“Welcome, me.”
“Wh-What...”
A shiver ran down her spine, and Shizuku ground to a halt. It wasn’t one of her comrades waiting for her. But it wasn’t a stranger either. It was someone who shouldn’t have existed.
“Why are you here? You’re just supposed to be—”
“A dream?”
The figure grinned at Shizuku, and it felt as though a bucket of cold water had just been poured over her head. Standing in front of her was the “White Shizuku” she’d only seen in her dreams. Her ponytail was pure white, as was her porcelain skin. Even the katana at her waist and the clothes she wore were white. Only her eyes were gleaming a dark crimson.
Shizuku’s nightmare had come to life. Unable to comprehend the reality in front of her, Shizuku took a step back. White Shizuku, which was the copy made by the labyrinth, took a step forward in return. It drew its white katana in one smooth, elegant motion.
“Get it together, me. If you don’t, you’ll be dead before you know it.”
With light steps, the copy dashed forward. It used a combination of No Tempo and Supersonic Step to make its movements unpredictable. To Shizuku, it looked as though it had disappeared.
“Ah!”
Despite her surprise, Shizuku knew to trust in her instincts and experience. Faster than she could think, she grabbed her katana in her left hand and swung it to the right. There was a sharp metallic clang as the two swords collided.
“I see now... This is a trial. A trial to see if I can overcome myself.”
“You need to be faster than that.”
The copy was referring both to Shizuku’s speed of thought, and her movements. As if to prove her point, while Shizuku was focused on pushing her copy’s sword back, it swung at Shizuku with its sheath. However, Shizuku had been prepared for that. After all, purposely diverting an opponent’s attention with the sword while attacking with the sheath was one of her own Yaegashi-style techniques, Swallow’s Gambit. Shizuku pushed off her copy’s blade and backstepped away from the sheath. However—
“Shock Slugger.”
“Gah!”
“I said you needed to be faster,” the copy said with a smile. Shizuku had predicted the attack, but the copy had known she would, and so had added a follow-up attack to that as well. The shockwaves hit Shizuku’s side, and she was launched like a pinball. She hit the ground with a painful thud and rolled across it like a dead fish.
“That’s enough pleasantries. Stop daydreaming.”
Shizuku’s copy sneered. Gritting her teeth, Shizuku got back to her feet and turned to face her copy.
“This is reality. We are both real. Now fight your way past us. Prove that our sharpened blade can overcome even ourselves. If not, we will perish here!”
Once again, the copy used No Tempo and Supersonic Step to close the distance between them. The erratic movements brought on by No Tempo combined with the speed of Supersonic Step made it impossible for most people to follow with the naked eye.
Ignoring the throbbing of her sides, Shizuku activated the same two skills and joined her copy in the world of extreme speed. Sparks danced in the air as the two clashed. The two Shizukus then appeared with their backs facing each other before turning instantly.
“Gale!”
“Hah!”
Shouting simultaneously, they brought their katanas down on each other. Both put everything they had into their swings, trying to find an opening.
After a brief flurry, they once again vanished, then reappeared elsewhere. The process repeated itself over and over, and the air in the room was filled with sparks. Those sparks were reflected a dozen times over by the ceiling, floor, and walls, giving the room the appearance of a world dyed in orange.
Supersonic Step only allowed the user to dash in a straight line, so in order to add even more complexity to their movements, Shizuku and her copy activated Supersonic Step within Supersonic Step. By layering multiple Supersonic Steps on top of each other, they were able to freely change direction and accelerate even faster as well.
The sounds of their clashes and the sparks they created were the only proof that they existed at all; that was how fast they were moving.
The copy slashed diagonally downward, and Shizuku dodged by a hair’s breadth. But an instant later the copy switched grips and swung sideways with her sheath instead. This was another one of the Yaegashi-style techniques, Mountain Tempest. Shizuku blocked that attack with her katana, then stepped forward and aimed an elbow at her copy’s blind spot.
This too was a Yaegashi-style technique, Thunderclap. The moment Shizuku’s elbow sunk into her copy’s stomach, her copy used it as a pivot point to rotate all the way around and launch another lightning-fast sword slash at Shizuku.
That was yet another Yaegashi-style technique, Slipstream. Shizuku dodged her copy’s attack by letting her own momentum carry her forward and adding a jump to speed up. Then she instantly cast multiple Supersonic Steps to get behind her copy and redrew the sword she’s sheathed mid-flight. There was a sharp snick as it cleared the scabbard. Shizuku’s drawing skill was so impressive that her katana moved faster than the eye could follow. It didn’t even leave an afterimage behind. But of course, her copy was just as skilled. It unsheathed its own katana at the same timing and speed as Shizuku’s and the two blades clashed. There was a metallic screech and the shock of the impact ran down the arms of both combatants.
Unfortunately, Shizuku was the one pushed back. Her copy had also had the power of centrifugal force behind her draw, which had been enough to overpower Shizuku. Eyes wild, Shizuku’s copy smiled menacingly and put a hand to its mouth. It then leaped forward with its katana held high. With its spare hand, it pressed its sheath against the back of its blade, forming a cross.
This was one of the Yaegashi-style finishing moves, Helm Splitter. By driving one’s blade into the opponents’ helmet, then following that up by pounding the sheath down on the blade, the user was able to cut through helmet and head in one clean stroke. It was one of the few power techniques in the Yaegashi arsenal. Furthermore, the magic of this fantasy world had given Shizuku the tools needed to bring her gruesome finishing move to the next level.
“Flash Blitz!”
“Ngh... Flash Blitz!”
Only a spatial-magic imbued skill could block another spatial-magic imbued skill. However, Shizuku was off-balance, and she knew better than anyone the power Helm Splitter had even without magic. Even if her Flash Blitz canceled out the spatial magic component of her copy’s Flash Blitz, she’d still get her head split open.
That was why Shizuku unleashed another one of her techniques while fighting back her panic. As their blades clashed, Shizuku desperately deflected the brunt of the attack and quickly reversed the grip on her blade. She then angled her katana to slide her copy’s white katana away from her and slashed upward using her backhanded grip.
This was the Yaegashi-style technique, Blade Reversal. It was meant to be a counter, and Shizuku executed it perfectly. However, her copy was as familiar with her moves as she was and casually dodged the slice by a paper-thin margin. Then, with movements so fluid they pissed Shizuku off, it backflipped away from her.
Shizuku wasted no time in launching a follow-up attack. Watching someone who looked exactly like her fight using her moves annoyed her to no end. She wanted to get this trial over with as soon as possible.
“Oh, are you planning on averting your eyes from the truth again?”
“What’re you—”
That was enough to rattle Shizuku. Her concentration slipped for a moment, and her copy took advantage of that. It slipped underneath Shizuku’s guard and grabbed her arm, then twirled around and executed a perfect Aikido throw.
As her field of vision flipped upside down, Shizuku instinctively crossed her katana and sheath together to guard her head. Her timing was perfect, and she managed to block the copy’s follow-up kick.
That was another one of the Yaegashi-style techniques, Mirror Bolt. First, the user threw the opponent using Aikido, then attacked them while they were trapped mid-air. But even though she blocked the kick, the impact of the blow made Shizuku black out for a second. She barely managed to take a defensive stance as she sailed through the air and rolled across the ground. Vision blurry, she realized the attack had hurt less than the words her copy had hurled at her.
“Pathetic,” her copy scoffed. That one word was as sharp as her katana. Shizuku desperately wanted to argue back, but she was at a loss for words. And she didn’t have the time to find any. Because she was once again thrust in the world of supersonic slices and deadly thrusts. Flashes of white and black clashed over and over, cutting through the air.
When it came to pure swordsmanship skill, no one in the world could match those two. They continued unleashing high-level techniques one after another, struggling to land a deathblow.
But both sides were evenly matched. Or so it seemed at first glance. However, as time passed, an ugly truth reared its head. Every time Shizuku saw her copy’s piercing eyes, memories of the past bubbled up. It was just like the daydream she’d seen in Haltina’s labyrinth. Every one of the memories that surfaced was something she’d locked away deep inside her heart. She thought she’d kept them contained, but now they began to ooze out and pierce her heart like stakes.
Each time she felt the pain of her own memories, it was accompanied by a physical pain as well. Her movements slowed with each stake pierced through her heart, giving her copy openings to cut her. In minutes, Shizuku was covered in small cuts. Her copy was outmaneuvering and overpowering her.
“Haaaaaaaah!” Shizuku was slowly being driven into a corner. Impatience began to dull her movements. She shouted in an attempt to clear her mind and launched a series of hyper-fast attacks, but it wasn’t enough.
“My, you’re getting sloppy.”
Even though she unleashed multiple strikes in less than a second, the copy dodged them all. Not a single one so much as grazed her. To top it off, she even had time to launch a counter after Shizuku messed up one of her attacks. The copy’s figure blurred, and a second later its katana was heading straight for Shizuku’s forehead.
“Ah!?”
Her copy leaned back even as it stepped forward, messing with Shizuku’s sense of perspective. Caught up in the technique, Shizuku hurriedly shook her head and tried to backstep out of the way. She couldn’t dodge the attack completely though, and her copy’s katana scraped her temple.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t be relieved with just that. Her copy had used another Yaegashi-style technique, Mist Piercer. And Shizuku knew it wasn’t over yet.
The reaper’s scythe was still at her throat. Because her panicked dodge had broken her balance, she was in no position to dodge the second and third thrusts that were still to come. So instead—
“Shock Slugger!”
Despite feeling as though her heart had been frozen over, Shizuku slammed the ground with her sheath and activated Shock Slugger before her copy’s second thrust reached her. Pulverized shards of ice shot toward it, serving as a makeshift buckshot. The copy used its momentum to execute a turn, and danced past Shizuku. Its white ponytail fluttered elegantly in the breeze as it passed.
At the same time, Shizuku stepped away, putting some distance between her and her copy. It nonchalantly returned its katana to its sheath and sneered at Shizuku.
“Thank god you have that gift he gave you. If not for that, you would have died seven times over.”
“Haaah... Haaah...” Shizuku didn’t rise to her copy’s taunt. Panting heavily, she observed her opponent in silence. However, her expression was clearly pained. Were her injuries finally getting to her? Or was she frustrated her sword couldn’t reach her opponent? Or was she in pain because her copy’s words were cutting her to ribbons?
The copy’s sneer grew wider, to the point where it was hard to imagine the real Shizuku ever making a face like that. It thrust Shizuku’s shortcomings and negative emotions before her, its words dripping with venom.
“Hey, does it hurt? Are you scared? Do you feel like crying? Go ahead, no need to hide it. I’m you, so I already know everything about you. Everything.”
Only fifteen minutes had passed since the start of the fight. That had been all it had taken for Shizuku to end up a bloody, sweaty mess. Blood dripped from her temple, down her cheek, and onto the floor, a symbol of just how badly Shizuku was faring.
On the other hand, her copy was completely unhurt. There wasn’t even a speck of dust or ice on its clothes. The beautiful, all-knowing copy of Shizuku hurled more painful truths at her.
“You never even wanted to learn swordsmanship, did you? You loved frilly western dresses a lot more than stiff Japanese clothes. You never wanted a practice sword. All you wanted were cute dolls and pretty accessories!”
“Shut up.”
Shizuku had been four when her grandfather had put a wooden sword in her hands. He had been the head of the Yaegashi dojo at the time, and he’d really just done it as a joke. But even at the tender age of four, Shizuku’s talent with the sword had been noticeable.
“That’s amazing, Shizuku! You might just be a genius!”
That was the only time Shizuku could remember her grandfather had smiled. Even now, Shizuku remembered the way he’d beamed and ruffled her hair.
That was why she’d taken up the sword. She made kendo and swordsmanship a part of her life. Her grandfather, father, and all the other people in the dojo praised her to no end. But even as a child, she knew they were placing their expectations on her, so she gave it her all. She trained hard, without once complaining. But in truth—
“When Kouki first came to your dojo, you thought a prince had come to sweep you off your feet, didn’t you? What did he say back then? Oh yeah, ‘I’ll protect you, Shizuku-chan!’ When he said that, you thought he was like a knight out of some fairy tale. You were so sure he’d treat you like the girl you wanted to be. He’d protect you. He’d take care of you. That was what you believed. But well, you know what happened.”
“Shut up.”
Gritting her teeth, Shizuku shot forward and drew her katana. She lashed out with a lightning-fast Flash Blitz, intent on cutting her copy in half. But naturally, her copy countered with the same move, and their blades clashed once more.
Unwilling to give up, Shizuku pushed forward with a series of cuts. Overhand, diagonal, backhanded, underhand, horizontal, she used every technique in her arsenal. But every single one was sidestepped, parried, or blocked. And the moment she showed even the slightest opening, her copy nicked her again. Shizuku backed off, dripping with blood. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes.
“But in the end, all Kouki brought us was jealousy. Since elementary school, he’s been kind and always done what’s right. All the girls loved him. So of course they couldn’t stand it when he chose to hang out with us instead. We had short hair, wore plain clothes, and the only topic we could talk about was swordsmanship. There wasn’t a single girly thing about us.”
Even though she was in the middle of a life-or-death struggle, the only thing Shizuku could think about was those memories from elementary school. Back then, she’d kept her hair short and only worn boring clothes. Sure, she was still pretty, but nothing about her could have been called girly.
Naturally, the other girls weren’t going to stay quiet when Kouki decided to hang out with someone like her, and it was precisely because they were kids that they could be cruel. Reliving those bitter memories caused Shizuku to slip up again, and her copy got another cut on her. The pain of that cut dredged up yet another painful memory.
“That’s right. You still remember those words, don’t you? Those words that girl who loved Kouki told you.”
Stop it! But Shizuku’s copy was an expression of her own heart, and it wasn’t done tormenting her yet.
“You were a girl?”
“That was a real shock, wasn’t it?”
“Not another word!”
Shizuku would never forget those words. Despite how she looked and acted, Shizuku was still a girl. She’d been unbelievably hurt when she’d heard those words. Even though she’d wanted so bad to make other female friends, she hadn’t been able to.
That had been the first time she’d wished someone else would protect her. That was how shocking those words had been. And so she’d turned to Kouki, the one boy who’d promised to protect her. But all Kouki had said was, “I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm. They’re all good girls, so we can work things out if we just talk to them.”
By that time, Kouki had already convinced himself that all people were fundamentally good. Understanding the subtleties of a girl’s fragile heart was beyond him.
Naturally, the ally of justice Kouki had gone to settle things with the girls. And naturally, that had only made things worse for Shizuku. The only thing that had changed was the other girls started being more crafty to keep Kouki from catching on. After that, no matter how many times Shizuku went to Kouki for help, to him it was already a settled matter. He would just give her a troubled smile, and over time Shizuku came to stop relying on Kouki.
She kept going like that for a few years. Had she not met Kaori in fourth grade, she shuddered to think what might have become of her. It was quite possible she would have given up on living if not for Kaori.
“You never really wanted to do swordsmanship, but you were afraid of betraying your family’s expectations, so you couldn’t give it up. Kouki was the reason for all of your suffering, but you couldn’t bring yourself to push away your oblivious childhood friend... At the end of the day, you’re just an indecisive, half-assed girl.”
“That’s not... Ah!?”
By the time Shizuku realized it, it was too late. Her copy’s white katana had cut through the tether of gravity holding her to the floor. As she was assailed by weightlessness, her copy swung its sheath at her. It was planning to hit her with another Shock Slugger.
Shockwaves of white mana radiated out from the sheath, and the copy hit Shizuku so hard she nearly lost consciousness. The attack blew her away, sending her bouncing across the ground. She slid another few meters after that before coming to a stop.
“Cough... Cough...” Shizuku coughed up droplets of blood. Her ribs were on fire. At least two or three of them had been broken from that attack. Her internal organs weren’t in great shape either.
Tears blurring her vision, Shizuku desperately tried to keep herself from drifting off into unconsciousness. She didn’t even have the strength to stand, and could only listen helplessly as her copy’s footsteps drew close.
Sensing her impending death, Shizuku struggled to get up. But her stamina was drained, and she could barely move.
The copy leaned close to Shizuku and grinned devilishly. In a kind voice, it whispered, “You don’t have to get back up, you know? If you just give up here, I’ll let you live. You don’t have to always be the one working hard. Let someone else handle things for a change. They’ll manage. Now sleep.”
“What do you...”
“It’s a simple choice. Give up and sleep. Or keep struggling and die a painful death.”
The copy was confident Shizuku would never beat it. And if Shizuku refused to surrender, it wouldn’t hesitate to cut her to pieces. As if to prove its point, the copy grinned evilly and thrust its katana toward Shizuku. Shizuku’s blood was still dripping from its edge, reminding her that the white katana in front of her really might be what kills her. The red of her blood contrasted starkly with the pure white of her copy’s blade.
With each drop that fell to the ice below, Shizuku could feel more of her own life slowly bleeding away. Still doubled over in pain, Shizuku paled. But in the next instant, she glared at her copy and struggled to get up. Despite the fact that she was coughing up blood, she somehow managed to rise to her knees.
“Gaaaaaaaah!”
“Yes, of course. We would get back up.”
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