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Gakusen Toshi Asterisk - Volume 11 - Chapter 3




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CHAPTER 3 
FATHER AND MOTHER 
“…” 
Ayato and Masatsugu moved their chopsticks in utter silence. Masatsugu was an uncommunicative person in general, opening his mouth only when something needed to be done. It was, of course, difficult to talk to someone with that kind of personality, so Ayato had long since given up trying to engage him in conversation. 
Indeed, dinner tonight at the Amagiri household was just as it always was. 
Things had been different when Haruka had been there. She had acted as a sort of intermediary between the two of them, effortlessly helping the conversation flow around her. 
Dinner was simmered fish with sautéed lotus root, boiled komatsuna, and miso soup with fried tofu and radish. Ayato and Masatsugu had cooked everything themselves. 
It certainly tasted like home cooking, but Ayato couldn’t help but feel that the flavors were somehow different whenever he or his father were responsible for them. His image of home cooking was Haruka’s cooking, or else the kind of thing that Saya’s mother, Kaya, would put together. 
“Kirin, please don’t hold back.” 
“Y-yes… Thank you…,” she said with a relieved nod. 
Ayato was used to this atmosphere, but she probably found it stifling. 
“Well, I guess it isn’t anything special, though.” 
“No, it’s very nice!” But despite her words, there was something unnatural about the movement of her chopsticks. 
She was probably still nervous. 
“B-by the way… What were you like as a child, Ayato?” she asked, probably trying to lighten the mood. 
“I was just a normal kid, I suppose,” Ayato answered with a smile. 
At this, Masatsugu, his countenance unchanging, spoke up: “He was the kind of kid who didn’t follow instructions.” 
“Come on, Dad…” But seeing Kirin give a real, unfeigned smile for the first time since they had arrived, Ayato couldn’t bring himself to say anything stronger. 
“Ha-ha, so you were a troublemaker!” 
“He’d quarrel with the students. He’d get serious when it came to training, but he always strayed too far from the set forms.” 
“So now you open your mouth…,” Ayato muttered as he stared into his food. 
Kirin, watching on from the side, shook with laughter. 
“Kirin?” Ayato wondered. 
“Ah, s-sorry… It’s just, this is the first time I’ve seen you like this.” 
“Like this?” 
“How do I put it… Acting your age?” she answered, tilting her head slightly to one side. 
“Huh? R-really?” 
He was slightly taken aback by her words, perhaps because he hadn’t realized it for himself. 
“Does he normally act more mature?” Masatsugu’s question only added to Ayato’s surprise. 
“Um…,” Kirin answered, pondering. “Rather than mature…calmer, maybe, or more easygoing?” 
“Oh? That does come as a surprise.” 
Ayato hadn’t realized that either—nor, by the looks of it, had his father. 
There was no denying, however, that Kirin had succeeded in brightening the mood somewhat. 
Ayato was finally able to relax during the family meal in a way he hadn’t been able to in a long time. 
And then— 
“Ah, let me do the washing up,” Kirin said when they were finished, as she began gathering the tableware. 
“You don’t need to worry about that, Kirin. We’d never make a guest—” 
“Thank you, Miss Toudou. That would be a great help.” 
“Dad…?” Ayato glanced toward him, only for his father to stare back at him with a meaningful gaze. 
Ayato—and, it seemed, Kirin too—could guess what he meant. 
In short, he was asking her to leave the room. 
As Kirin left for the kitchen, the dishes and cutlery gathered on a tray, Masatsugu straightened his posture, his expression growing even sterner. 
Right. Masatsugu had invited Ayato home because he had something he wanted to tell him. 
“…What is it?” 
“It’s about Haruka.” Masatsugu headed, as ever, straight to the point—not that Ayato hadn’t expected as much. 
“Oh…? So now you want to talk about her,” Ayato said in a low voice, his eyes narrowed. 
His father hadn’t appeared to be particularly worried when Haruka had first disappeared. 
Not only would he brush aside any suggestion that they go and look for her when Ayato so much as mentioned her disappearance but Masatsugu would also simply tell him that they should respect her wishes. 
That was ultimately why their relationship had deteriorated so dramatically. 
“You haven’t even come to see her. Not even once.” 
It was close to a year now since Ayato had found her, after all. 
All his father had to do was go to the hospital in Asterisk. There should have been nothing stopping him from doing that. 
“…I’ll go when she wakes up.” 
“That isn’t the problem!” Ayato blurted out, before forcing his eyes shut. 
Things always ended up like this when the two of them spoke about Haruka. 
“…Sorry.” 
It was a little late, but what Kirin had said earlier came back to him. He did have a habit of acting childish in front of his father. 
He tried to calm the waves beating at his heart—but the self-possession that he had finally managed to restore was soon brought crashing down with only a few short words. 
“Listen, Ayato… Haruka isn’t my daughter.” 
“…What?” 
Ayato had difficulty comprehending what his father was trying to say. 
“At first, I thought it would be better for you to hear it from Haruka herself, but now…now that it’s come to this, I guess we’ve got no choice. You’re older now than she was back then. You should be able to deal with it.” 
“H-hold on a minute, Dad… What are you saying…?” 
Ayato, unable to believe those words that had already begun to seep deep into his heart, shook his head weakly. 
“When I first met your mother…when I first met Sakura, she was already pregnant—with Haruka.” 
Sakura Amagiri was Ayato’s mother. 
“But that would mean…” It would mean that they were really half-siblings, with different fathers. “Th-that can’t be! I mean, in that case, Haruka’s real father—” 
“I never asked your mother. I never looked into her life before she entered mine, or had anyone else look into it. And she never told me about it. Only…” Masatsugu paused there for a moment, though when he continued, his voice was as matter-of-fact as ever. “I don’t know exactly when or how she found out, but your sister seems to have realized that I’m not her real father.” 
“Wha—?!” 
Ayato was lost for words. 
The Haruka he remembered had always been gentle and composed. Not once did he remember her ever seeming worried or depressed. 
But no, there were exceptions to that—like the day she had placed his seal on him. 
“No! So you’re saying that her disappearance had something to do with that?!” 
“Maybe.” 
But if that was true, why had she gone so far as to put that seal on him? “I’ll protect you. That’s why.” That was what she had said back then. But what did she mean by that? And why had she thrown herself into something as dangerous as the Eclipse? 
Ayato didn’t understand any of it. 
I guess the only to find way to find out is to ask her directly… 
He let out a resigned sigh, before glancing back up at his father. “Dad, I’ve got something I need to discuss with you as well.” 
“…What?” 
“It’s about waking her. They might be able to do it as my wish for winning the Gryps, but I’m not—” 
“Do whatever you think is best,” Masatsugu interrupted before he could finish. 
“…Huh?” 
Ayato couldn’t hold back the feelings of resentment that surged forth at his father’s apparent lack of concern. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?! You could at least hear me out!” 
“There’s no need.” 
“You’re always like this! You don’t listen to anything I have to say!” 
Ayato stared down at the table, grinding his teeth. 
Why did it have to come to this? 
No, he should have known that it would. His father held himself to a strict, unwavering rule—one that Ayato didn’t fully comprehend. 
Haruka had understood him, but not Ayato. 
“…Just let me ask you one more thing.” 
If his father was going to be so recalcitrant, he would ask him something that he should be able to answer. 
Ayato forced himself to bury his anger and stifle his emotions before continuing. “What was Mom like? What kind of person was she?” 
If Haruka had left home to search for her real father, Ayato’s sole connection to that endeavor was his mother, Sakura. 
Ayato had no strong memories of her. He remembered pestering Masatsugu and Haruka to tell him about her when he had been young, but there had been no sense of tangible reality to the person they had described. 
Masatsugu remained silent for a moment, deep in thought, before responding. “She was…strong.” 
That wasn’t the answer Ayato had been hoping for, but he could sense real emotion in his father’s words. 
It was enough to give him the peace of mind that he needed, at least in part. 
“I see. Thank you.” 
But with that, there was nothing left for the two of them to discuss. 
Ayato rose to his feet, quietly making his way from the room. 
 

“So Haruka Amagiri is your daughter,” Dirk Eberwein said from the other side of the air-window, his voice and expression as sour as ever. 
“Oh…? That’s some excellent probing you’ve done there.” Madiath, impressed, smiled back at him, putting his hands together in exaggerated applause. “You wouldn’t guess how long it took me to find her.” 
Madiath’s office was illuminated only by the faint light of the moon outside and the air-window in front of him. The shadows were where he preferred to reside. 
“Hmph. It wasn’t that hard, with all these clues lying around.” 
“Hmm. I suppose not.” 
No, it was only a matter of time before anyone looking into Ayato Amagiri also looked into his mother. The problem was what came after that, but if you took Dirk’s special talents into account—or rather, the special talents of those who served as his eyes and ears—it was by no means impossible to pull back the curtain. 
“Who would have guessed that Akari Yachigusa could still be alive?” 
“…She isn’t.” 
How many years had it been, Madiath wondered, since he had heard that name said aloud? 
Akari Yachigusa—his one and only tag partner, someone who now only existed deep in his buried past. 
“Ah, is that so? The records all say she passed away quite a while back. The year after you two won the Phoenix, in fact.” 
“Exactly.” 
“The thing is—she actually changed her face, her name, even her past, and started a new life. But there’s no way that a Strega like Akari Yachigusa could turn into someone else so suddenly. Not that easily. There’s no way the IEFs would stand for it. Which means—” 
“Very perceptive of you. Yes, that was her wish after winning the Festa. And who else could grant it but them? Although, I only realized it myself after she had already left our fair city,” Madiath said jokingly, with a shrug of his shoulders. “And what exactly are you trying to accomplish, digging up the past like this?” 
“I couldn’t care less about this…gossip. I just don’t want you to let your personal feelings get in the way of what we’re doing,” Dirk said, his gaze growing sharper. 
“Heh, it’s a bit late for that… You and me, we’re both driven by personal feelings, if you look back far enough. Aren’t we?” 
“Quit screwing around. You’ve kept Haruka Amagiri alive this long, and you’ve been watching from the sidelines while Ayato Amagiri takes the crown at the Gryps. It’s all connected.” 
Yes, it was truly impressive how Dirk had managed to connect the dots. 
At this point, Madiath wouldn’t have been surprised if his counterpart already knew about that night, too. 
But be that as it may— 
“Now, now, there’s no need for this suspicion of yours. If I killed her, I’d never be able to undo the seal placed on me. That’s the only reason she’s still alive.” 
“If that’s all you’re after, you could get that lunatic woman to do it for you. From what I hear, she’s been saying as much to nearly anyone who’ll listen.” 
“And would you be willing to part with Miss Orphelia in compensation?” 
It certainly wouldn’t be impossible for Hilda to dispel the ability, but she could be guaranteed to want to take advantage of the situation. It didn’t require much thought to work out what she would demand. 
“I’m sure she’s fully aware of our state of affairs. She won’t be likely to compromise. So speaking for myself, I’m not willing to give up our ace just yet.” 
“You shameless little…! Firstly, it all depends on Ayato Amagiri, and he wants to wake her up right away! So what are you gonna do?” 
“There’s no need to worry about that. I’ve taken precautions.” Madiath leaned back into his chair with a composed smile. “Ayato Amagiri won spectacularly, as expected. Thanks to him, we now have our first chance in decades for a Festa that could end in a grand slam. The excitement is palpable, and most advantageous as far as the plan is concerned, wouldn’t you say?” 
“I’ll give you that. And the council has almost reached a decision. Still…” Dirk paused there, his eyes gleaming with something bordering on hatred. “You’d better not have forgotten. It was Haruka Amagiri who wrecked our plans last time.” 
“I understand that. Much better than you do. It was me, Varda, and Ecknardt who put those plans together in the first place. You were simply riding on our coattails.” 
The plan six years ago had fallen apart at the final stage, at Haruka’s hand, exactly as Dirk had said. 
The Golden Bough Alliance had lost an irreplaceable member, forcing Madiath and the others to start over from square one. 
“I am, of course, grateful for your assistance. But I don’t think you have the right to talk about the previous plan like that.” 
“…Tch!” Dirk clicked his tongue in anger, and with that, the air-window snapped shut. 
“Good grief… Just how many times are we going to have this kind of conversation?” Madiath murmured as he rubbed his shoulders, when Varda appeared out of the darkness in the corner of the room. 
“Who is this Akari Yachigusa?” 
“Oh, so you’re interested in a human, for once?” 
“That’s my line. There are very few humans to whom you’re so attached. I’m aware of Haruka and Ayato Amagiri, but this is the first I’ve heard of this one.” The urm-manadite core at Varda’s chest began to glow ominously. 
“That’s only natural, considering she’s from before I met you. But if you’re asking who she was… Hmm. That’s a tough one. She was stupidly naive. The kind of person who loved loneliness and solitude but couldn’t stand being left alone. Who adored children and cherry blossoms. And…” Madiath rested his chin in his hand as he sank deep into thought, staring into the night sky outside his window. “Yes, if I had to sum her up in one word—she was weak.” 
 
Kirin, having finished washing the dishes and tidying up, was making her way back to the living room when she bumped into Ayato in the corridor. 
“Ah, Ayato—” 
“…Sorry, Kirin. I’m stepping out for a bit,” he interrupted, his gaze downcast, before quickening his pace and making for the entrance. 
“Ah…” Kirin could do nothing more than watch as he disappeared into the night. Head tilted slightly to one side, she slid open the Japanese-style door to the living room, glancing toward Masatsugu. “Um, Ayato just—” 
“Don’t worry about him,” the older man said softly, glancing briefly in her direction. “He’ll come back.” 
“I—I see…” 
It was clear that something must have happened between the two of them, but there was nothing she could do about it. For a second, she had thought about chasing after him, but when she stopped to put her thoughts in order, she realized that she didn’t even know where he had gone, so that was impossible. 
She had no choice but to drop her gaze and take a nearby seat. 
“…” 
Kirin lost track of time in that awkward silence, until finally— 
“I’m afraid I’m not very good with words,” Masatsugu began. 
His expression was still as intense as it had been a moment ago, but to Kirin, he looked terribly disheartened. 
“Their mother always said she wanted them both to be free. To have the freedom she didn’t. But even with freedom, people still have to take responsibility for themselves. So I was strict with them. I tried to bring them both up so they would understand that… Haruka did. She was always mature for her age.” Masatsugu opened up in his usual matter-of-fact tone of voice. 
Though Kirin sat nearby, he seemed to be talking more to himself than to her. 
“Even when he left to go to Asterisk, Ayato still didn’t seem ready to me. But then…seeing him today for the first time in a year and a half, well… He’s grown up. I probably have you to thank for that, and your friends.” With that, Masatsugu bowed deeply before her. 
“Huh? N-n-not at all…!” Kirin stammered, waving her hands. 
“If he’s still lost, still looking for something, it’s probably because he’s carrying a burden inside himself. But that isn’t my place to interfere.” 
He would be better off having this discussion with Ayato directly, Kirin thought. 
But he was probably only able to speak so freely with her precisely because she was an outsider. 
Because they were so close, certain invisible walls tended to pop up between family members. She understood that only too well. 
After he had finished confiding in her, Masatsugu took a deep breath, before rising to his feet. “Well then—I’m sorry to bore you with our troubles, Miss Toudou. I don’t mean this as an excuse, but he’s in your hands now.” 
“M-me…?” Kirin echoed, unsure what he meant. 
“He’s wavering, like he doesn’t know how best to strike with his blade,” Masatsugu continued slowly. “I might not be worth much as a parent, but I do know the way of the sword. In that respect, at least, I can offer you both advice.” 
“Oh…” 
That was why she had come to the Amagiri household in the first place. It wasn’t as if it had slipped her mind, but she hadn’t wanted it to get in the way of their father-son discussion. 
“P-please…!” She stood up in a hurry, quickly bowing her head. 
“Then come to the dojo,” Masatsugu replied with a firm nod. 
After the two of them changed into their martial arts uniforms, they proceeded barefoot onto the impeccably polished floorboards of the dojo. 
“Let’s start by looking at your form. Yes… Try to come at me from above.” 
“B-but…,” Kirin stammered. 
Masatsugu wasn’t a Genestella. While they might only be using wooden practice blades, it would be inexcusable for her to try to hit him with her full strength. 
And yet— 
“Wow!” 
The moment Masatsugu adopted his fighting posture, Kirin felt a rush of admiration at how perfect it was. She couldn’t help but feel as if she were looking at a thing of beauty. 
At the very least, there could be no doubt that Masatsugu was a master. 
That being the case, it would be rude of her to be more cautious than absolutely necessary, Kirin thought to steady herself, before raising her blade over her head. 
She calmed her breathing—and stepped forward to strike her opponent. 
“—!” 
The blow, aimed, she had thought, directly at Masatsugu’s head, fell short by a fraction of an inch. 
No. Strictly speaking, he had brushed it aside. 
Masatsugu had made a half-step forward as she lunged toward him, using both his momentum and hers to ward off her attack with his own blade. 
“I see… Just as I’ve heard, the Toudou style truly is a work of genius.” Masatsugu nodded in praise. 
Kirin stared back in astonishment. “How did you…?” 
“Surprised? Even us ordinary folk can do this much with proper discipline and training,” Masatsugu declared. “Of course, as far as raw strength is concerned, I’m quite sure I’ll be no match for you. Both Haruka and Ayato surpassed me in that respect long ago. No, us ordinary folk fall far short of you Genestella in both speed and strength. Let’s say I were to face off against you in earnest. At most, I’d probably only be able to hold my own for a few seconds.” 
“…Yes.” 
He was probably right about that. Even if an ordinary person managed to block her attack, she would likely be able to overwhelm them through strength alone. On top of that, it would be close to impossible for them to properly judge her movements, and even if they did, they wouldn’t be able to move fast enough to counter them. 
Genestella were simply more capable in that respect. 
So what, she wondered, had just happened? 
“But if your movements are limited, like they were only a moment ago, I’ll still have some options available. And luckily for me, the state of mind fostered by the Amagiri Shinmei style’s shiki technique also helps.” 
“Options…?” 
“Techniques,” Masatsugu corrected himself. “Someone like me certainly can’t surpass a Genestella in physical ability, but I can train myself in techniques. The key lies in precision, in how thoroughly you can put yourself into one swing of the sword. You’ve yet to master that, which is why someone like me was able to block your attack.” 
Certainly, there could be no question that technique was more important than strength, and the same went for speed. Even if it was harder to evade an attack with great destructive power, that didn’t change the basic principle. 
“Now, I’ll try to do the same.” 
“…Yes!” 
Kirin raised her practice blade in front of her. 
Masatsugu, on the other hand, held his at his side, before lunging forwards and sweeping it toward her chest, quickly twisting his wrist to slash downward. 
It was the Amagiri Shinmei style’s Twin Serpents technique—a move Ayato himself used often. 
There was something different about it, though. When Ayato used it, his movements were certainly both faster and stronger, and yet Masatsugu’s technique was far more formidable. 
The attack was sharp—so sharp, it seemed, that if she were to make one wrong move it might cut clean through her practice blade. 
The second she understood that, Kirin felt a wave of inspiration and shame rush through her. 
How shallow had she been, how foolish, how conceited, to think that she, still so inexperienced, didn’t know where next to take her own swordsmanship? 
“Um, can you show me more?” Kirin asked, her eyes sparkling as she readied herself for a third time. 
“Of course.” Masatsugu gave her a strong nod, the corners of his lips curling up ever so slightly in a faint but unmistakably warm smile. 
 



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