Gakusen Toshi Asterisk - Volume 10 - Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4 
CLAIRVOYANCE 
“Did we…win?” Julis murmured, falling to her knees in disbelief. 
When the protective gel surrounding the stage was deactivated, a deafening roar of cheers descended upon Ayato and the others, followed by the impassioned voices of the announcer and commentator. 
“Th-that’s it! What a conclusion! The winner is Seidoukan Academy’s Team Enfield!” 
“This certainly is an unexpected victory. To be perfectly honest, there should have been a significant difference in ability between Contestant Toudou and Contestant Wu, and yet…” 
“…Elder Brother…” Hufeng, standing across from Ayato, looked as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened. 
“…” 
Even so, judging by his expression, it was Xiaohui who was the most surprised of all. 
“I… I lost… I see…” 
Watching him murmur those brief words to himself, Ayato felt that he had seen Xiaohui exhibit something resembling honest emotion for the first time. It was a meager, fragmentary change, but there was unmistakably something different about him now compared to when he had first entered the stage. 
At that moment, Kirin staggered weakly and lost her balance. 
“Kirin!” Ayato rushed over to catch her just before she could hit the ground. 
She seemed to be completely sapped of energy, but even so, she gave him a brave smile. “Th-thank you, Ayato… Did we…? Did we win?” 
“Thanks to you!” Ayato beamed. “You were amazing, Kirin!” 
But then he noticed something was wrong. 
Her eyes were out of focus, her voice terribly weak. 
“I—I see… Thank…goodness… But still… Why is everything…so…bright?” 
“Kirin! Kirin!” 
Just as she lost consciousness— 
“Oh-ho, fret not.” 
The voice was by no means loud enough to bury the roar of the crowd. On the contrary, it was soft and childish, with a light, mellow ring. 
Ayato turned toward it reflexively, to see a void in the center of the stage, as if the air itself had been ripped open. From it emerged the figure of a girl. 
“Xinglou…!” 
“…Huh? Huh? Whaaat? Wh-what’s this? A child has appeared in the middle of the stage…!” 
“Oh… It’s the Ban’yuu Tenra…” Compared to Mico’s flustered voice, Hiiragi’s was a strange mix of resignation and curiosity. 
“Th-the Ban’yuu Tenra?! Now that you mention it, that girl does look like Jie Long’s number one, Xinglou Fan! Wh-why on earth could someone normally so reclusive enter the stage now…? No, no, before that—how did she enter the stage…?” Mico exclaimed, coming out with one question after another. 
A commotion was beginning to ferment among the spectators, too. 
Xinglou, however, paid them all no heed. 
“She has looked into the vein of life,” the girl—Xinglou—explained with a hint of admiration as she stared at Kirin’s motionless face. “The sight will have been burned into her eyes. She should return to normal within two or three days.” 
“The vein of life…?” Ayato repeated. 
“Clairvoyance—the ability to read one’s intentions, only discernible through their prana. She no doubt read Xiaohui’s every move,” Xinglou explained. 
Ayato didn’t understand. “You mean…like the Pan-Dora’s precognition?” 
“No.” Xinglou shook her head. “That Orga Lux reveals the future of the world. That is what makes it such a powerful weapon for gathering information. No, what she saw isn’t the future of the world, but just one’s intentions. You could think of it more like mind reading.” 
“So she knew what he was going to do because it’s what he wanted?” 
“Exactly. She knew how he wanted to act,” Xinglou said with a nod, her lips pursed. “It’s a formidable natural talent. To think that she can do this much without proper training… To be honest, not even I suspected she would come this far. If someone like me was to recklessly come into contact with someone like her, overflowing with talent polished through her own efforts, I could end up breaking her. I intended to leave her alone until she had fully ripened, but now that she’s here, I can hardly resist taking such a fragrant treat…” 
“…I think I can say on her behalf that she isn’t interested.” Ayato tightened his grip on Kirin, narrowing his eyes at the child. 
“I’m not fool enough to pluck a budding flower before it blooms.” 
“…More importantly, is she going to be okay?” 
Kirin hadn’t budged an inch since losing consciousness. Her breathing seemed to have come under control, but her complexion wasn’t good, and she seemed completely sapped. 
“Even with training, looking into the flow of life requires great exertion. This is what happens when you overdo it, as she did. Think of it like exhausting your prana. Her life isn’t in danger, but it’s no less serious than a physical injury. You should take her somewhere to recover.” 
“…Got it. Thank you, Xinglou.” 
In that case, it would be better to wait for the first-aid staff to come to them rather than try to move her himself. 
Saya, it seemed, had lost consciousness as well and was being seen to by Claudia. 
“…Master…” 
The five members of Team Yellow Dragon had assembled behind Xinglou and were kneeling reverently. 
“I’m truly sorry for this defeat,” Xiaohui said as the team’s representative, his head bowed. 
“Oh-ho, I don’t recall instructing you to win. What I wanted in exchange for teaching you was for you to satisfy me. You knew that.” 
“Even so…,” Xiaohui began, his voice and face stiff. 
Xinglou looked down at him with a joyful grin. “Oh-ho! Listen up, Xiaohui! This was my first time seeing that expression on you. Yes, it wasn’t victory I wanted… But that’s different from you not seeking victory.” With that, she narrowed her eyes, a cool chill entering her voice. “You have a brilliant mind, Xiaohui. Whether it’s martial arts or seisenjutsu, you absorb anything that comes your way. You’re faithful to my teachings, and you’ve never opposed me. Yes, you’re a truly excellent disciple. But unfortunately, I’ve no interest in doting on mere puppets.” 
“…” 
Xiaohui listened on in silence, his gaze directed at the ground. 
“Your techniques are mine—faithfully reproduced, yes, but not developed, not made your own. I suppose it’s clear by now that you’re not interested in moving beyond that point. You’re only trying to satisfy me, only trying to meet my expectations. You don’t do it for yourself. There’s no satisfaction to be found in training with someone like that, someone who can’t be tempered into something greater.” 
“Master…” Only now did Xiaohui move, tilting his head to stare up at Xinglou. 
His face was like that of a child watching his mother bid farewell. 
“Do you understand why I like your tea? Because that’s the only thing that you’ve mastered for yourself, that you’ve studied for yourself, that you’ve cultivated for yourself.” 
At these words, Xiaohui’s eyes opened wide. 
“However, defeat is humiliating. That is for the best. Now you have a reason to want to free yourself from that which binds you.” 
“But, master! I—” 
“I appreciate your loyalty, but you should be a person, not a doll,” Xinglou interrupted with a gentle shake of her head. “If you won’t do that, you’ll never satisfy me.” 
“…Yes, master.” 
“Mm-hm.” Xinglou nodded before turning her gaze back to Ayato. “Now I must express my gratitude to that girl—Kirin Toudou. She has my thanks for besting this one here. She fought splendidly.” 
“…I’ll let her know when she wakes up.” 
“Good. As a matter of fact, if anyone was going to defeat him, I assumed it would be you. Maybe I need to wait a little longer?” Xinglou said with a suggestive smile, patting him on the shoulder. 
“Huh?” 
“I’m looking forward to the championship. Do make it an interesting one.” With that, she let out a dry laugh, then led Team Yellow Dragon away. 
Ayato let out a sigh of relief as, in their place, the first-aid staff made their way onto the stage. 
 
In the student council president’s office at Saint Gallardworth Academy— 
“…So Team Enfield came out on top. Impressive, truly impressive,” began Ernest Fairclough as he watched the post-match commentary on the air-window. “I suppose we should call this Miss Toudou’s awakening? Although, I must admit, it was a little unexpected… Well then, what do you all say?” He turned to glance at the four other members of Team Lancelot, all gathered in the room. 
“Heh-heh! It’s just like I said, right? I told you they’d make it to the finals!” Laetitia declared as she brushed her hair back with a flourish. 
She was no doubt overjoyed to have finally been given a chance to face off against her rival, Claudia. She was clearly trying to act calm and composed, but she couldn’t hide the faint flush that had risen to her cheeks. 
“We should welcome this outcome. It should work to our advantage. To be honest, I’m happy not to have to go up against Hagun Seikun ourselves,” Lionel said quietly as he stroked his chin. 
Lionel, Gallardworth’s most highly skilled lancer, had earned the title of Rhongomiant, and yet, it seemed even he didn’t want to fight Xiaohui Wu directly. 
Ernest himself couldn’t deny that Xiaohui’s sheer power and abilities were, in a word, outstanding. 
Even with the unique strengths of his Orga Lux, the Lei-Glems, Ernest couldn’t help but wonder whether even he would be able to defeat him himself. 
“Unfortunately, they probably won’t be able to field a full team, not in that state. That girl, in particular—Kirin Toudou, right?—she didn’t look good. If I were her, I’d be more worried about making a full recovery.” Kevin, leaning back on the sofa with his hands behind his head, seemed to be legitimately concerned for her well-being. As long as he wasn’t on the battlefield, he would always take the side of a lady. 

“…Given her state, I doubt she will be able to take part in the final,” answered Percival, her face unreadable. 
While the three other members were all sitting on the sofa, she alone stood leaning against the wall in near silence. 
“Hmm… You’re probably right about that.” Ernest nodded. 
“It does seem to be a little different, but I suspect she has a similar eye for detail as I do. She seems to have overdone it, however, so she probably won’t be able to use it again for a while. Not to mention her other serious injuries.” 
Percival had an unusually keen sense of observation, one that allowed her to see through the true natures of those whom she encountered—and one that made it all but impossible to sneak a lie past her. 
In Ernest’s view, it was because of those eyes that homed in on the truth, and the unending sense of guilt that that entailed, that she had been chosen to wield the Holy Grail. The Holy Grail was even more selective than his own Orga Lux, and like the Runesword, it couldn’t be deceived. 
“Which means that it will be four against five, I suppose. There’s no denying our advantage. They’ll all be exhausted from their last match, while we’ve basically reached the final by default. Not to mention, our better training.” 
“…Hold on a minute, Lionel,” Laetitia responded. “As true as that might be, you’d still better not let your guard down.” 
“I’m simply stating an objective fact.” Lionel frowned, more in disappointment than anything else. “I don’t mean to make light of them, nor to go easy on them, either.” 
Lionel always tried to evaluate things fairly. That often put him at odds with Kevin and also led to him quarreling with Laetitia, who tended to express herself more directly. 
“Right, none of us here would treat an opponent that way, Letty.” Kevin spoke lightly, as if in jest, but his eyes were serious. 
They never treated their opponents with disdain, never cowered in the face of illusions, always fighting at their full strength to open up the path to victory—that was how Team Lancelot did things. Justice and order, truth and honesty—those were the symbols of Saint Gallardworth Academy. 
And yet— 
“I’m aware of that. I am a part of this team, you know. It’s just…” 
Turning away from Laetitia for a moment, Ernest glanced back at the air-window, once again showing Ayato in the middle of the stage. 
Ayato Amagiri… He truly is magnificent. I look forward to— 
But he stopped himself there, shaking his head with a bitter smile. 
Don’t. Don’t finish that thought. 
He rose to his feet, letting out a brief sigh as he tried to stifle the pain building in his chest. “Now then… I’m stepping out for little while. I’ll leave everything to you.” 
“Huh? H-hold on a minute, Ernest!” Laetitia called out after him. “What do you mean you’re stepping out? We need to plan for the match!” 
Ernest, however, simply gave her a gentle smile before wordlessly leaving the room. 
 
In Le Wolfe Black Institute’s student council room… 
“Tch! So Seidoukan pulled through…!” Dirk Eberwein practically spat the words out as he sat at his desk. He slammed his hand down on the button to shut the air-window from which he had been watching the match. 
Neither Le Wolfe nor Dirk himself had been paying much attention to this year’s Gryps. They had hired a mercenary team to fight on behalf of the school, but that was more of a face-saving measure than anything else, and it had more or less served its purpose by the time it had made its first entry. 
As for whether Jie Long or Seidoukan made it to the championship, or indeed who ended up winning that match, Dirk wasn’t particularly interested. 
What had him annoyed was that it was Ayato’s team that had won. 
Ayato Amagiri—Haruka Amagiri’s younger brother and the wielder of the Ser Veresta. 
Dirk had only met him in person once (although, strictly speaking, they had also seen each other at ceremonies and the like), but that was enough to know that he would be a problem. For Dirk, who viewed others as little more than chess pieces, Ayato was the worst kind of trouble imaginable. He was easily manipulated most of the time, but he would always manage to flip the board over at the most inopportune moment. 
“I’d like to eliminate him entirely, and yet… Huh?” 
His mobile had begun to ring. He set it to voice-only mode before opening a blank air-window. 
“…The demon and the false god are moving,” a gloomy voice reported. 
“Hmm, just as I’d thought.” Dirk frowned. Given the situation, this wasn’t an unexpected development. 
“What do you want me to do?” 
“Keep monitoring them. But keep your distance. They’ll know if you get too close.” 
“Understood.” 
With that, the air-window snapped shut. 
The operative wasn’t one of Le Wolfe’s Cats, but rather was one of Dirk’s own agents. If he involved Grimalkin, the information would inevitably leak to the school’s IEF, Solnage. He had to be selective with who he assigned to each task. 
All the more so when the task in question involved the Golden Bough Alliance. 
“What the hell are you thinking, Madiath Mesa…? If you’re gonna try something, I’m not just gonna sit here idly,” he muttered before opening five small air-windows. 
He glared at the faces of each of the members of Saint Gallardworth Academy’s Team Lancelot in turn. There was a surprisingly detailed amount of information on each of them. 
He had had the Gold Eyes do some reconnaissance a few days earlier. There was nothing unusual about gathering information on one’s potential opponents during the Festa, and so it wouldn’t have drawn attention to use Grimalkin for such a task. Not that he intended to use that information in the way that anyone could have been expecting. 
He had already looked it all over several times now, and there wasn’t much new there. Given the amount of detail they had already gathered, there probably wasn’t much else left to dig up. Nor was there likely to be anything particularly useful that he could use to his advantage. 
That was, leaving one of them aside. 
Dirk closed the remaining air-windows one by one. 
Ernest Fairclough, Laetitia Blanchard, Lionel Karsch, Kevin Holst…until finally only one remained open in front of him. 
“Percival Gardner…” 
Dirk had only ever been interested in this one—the user of the Holy Grail and Team Lancelot’s newest member. Given that she was a newcomer, he had hoped there would be something to dig up on her, and yet… 
Looking over her personal history, he couldn’t contain his surprise. 
It went far beyond what even he had expected. 
As he stared at the face in that air-window, a stream of unpleasant memories seemed to spring back to life. His finger almost tried to close the air-window through sheer reflex, but he stayed his hand, clicking his tongue in distaste. 
“I don’t like it…but this will improve my hand.” 
He already held the joker, Orphelia Landlufen, but that alone wouldn’t be enough to win. 
If you were going to play against Madiath Mesa, you needed every advantage you could get. 
Just then— 
“Mr. President, would you like some coffee?” asked a dim-witted face in a newly opened air-window. 
“Argh…” He found himself so put out that he couldn’t even bring himself to shout back at her, merely opening the door to his office with an annoyed look. “Get in here.” 
“Hee-hee, Priscilla made some cookies. They look delicious, don’t you think?” 
“Ah…” Dirk put his head in his hands, trying to find a simple way to word his instructions. “Hey, Korona. I’ve got a job for you.” 

 

“Huh?” 
“Come with me to the Gryps final tomorrow.” 
“Huh?! Really?!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together with glee. 
It went without saying that tickets to the championship match of a Festa were by far the most sought-after. Being his private secretary, she was, of course, permitted to join him in his private booth…or so one would have expected. While he didn’t have much choice when it came to the opening and closing ceremonies, he hardly ever attended the matches themselves, and so this would be her first time attending. 
“Yes! Thank you, Mr. President! I’ve always wanted to watch a Festa firsthand!” she squealed with delight. 
Dirk let out a tired sigh before continuing softly: “Deliver this, before it starts. That’s the job.” He pulled a card out from his desk drawer, scribbling something on the front before flinging it toward her. 
“Huh? Deliver it to who?” 
“Do I have to answer that? Gallardworth’s Team Lancelot.” 
“Oh…?” Korona tilted her head to one side, her expression puzzled. “I understand… I’m just a little surprised. Do you know them, Mr. President?” 
“Shut up. That’s none of your business.” Dirk glared back at her. 
Korona recoiled at the words. 
“I’m only gonna say this once, so listen up. Don’t go there in that stupid uniform. And don’t give it to them directly. Just leave it at their office.” 
Each of Asterisk’s six schools maintained a special office at the Sirius Dome during the course of the Festa, whose job it was to receive presents and fan mail on behalf of their contestants. 
“B-but in that case, won’t it take a while to reach them…?” 
“That’s not your concern. Don’t worry about it. Just tell them it’s from the institute.” 
“The institute?” Korona repeated. She clearly had no idea what he was talking about, but there was, of course, no need for her to know in the first place. 
Dirk waved his hand to signal the end of their conversation, driving her out of the room. 
“…Damn it, who would have thought it would come to this?” he muttered with an angry click of his tongue.