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Gakusen Toshi Asterisk - Volume 11 - Chapter 8




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CHAPTER 8 
DETERMINATION 
“What on earth could be so important that it couldn’t wait until after New Year’s?” Julis called out in annoyance as she opened the door to Saya’s room in the girls’ dormitory at Seidoukan Academy—before turning pale in alarm at what she saw. 
Saya was sitting at a kotatsu in the center of the room, clinging to a heavy, padded kimono that she wore over her shoulders. 
“We’re sulking,” she responded in an unusually sullen tone of voice. 
That was one thing, but— 
“You too, Claudia…?” 
“Oh no, this is surprisingly comfortable.” Claudia, sitting across from Saya and dressed in a similar padded kimono jacket, lay with the top half of her body slouched over the kotatsu. 
“You’ve really loosened up since that brush with Galaxy…” 
“There’s still a rather severe issue left to deal with, so there’s no cure like a good rest every now and then,” she said with a carefree smile, before stifling a yawn. 
“By the way, what happened to you?” Saya asked. 
“Oh dear, look at your injuries,” Claudia exclaimed. “Are those…burns?” 
“Ah, this is just…well, it’s no big deal. I was just training.” 
“You, who can resist your own abilities, got burned?” Claudia stared at her with skepticism in her eyes. 
She may well have loosened up, but she was still as sharp as ever. 
“Ah, I guess I’ll join you both, then! I don’t think I’ve ever sat at a kotatsu before!” Julis let out a light laugh, before sticking her legs under the blanket. “Oh!” 
It was surprisingly warm and comfortable. 
“Your upper body will get cold like that. Here, put this on.” Saya, still lying down, reached into a large clothes chest and pulled out another padded kimono jacket. 
“Uh… Are you sure…?” 
“Is there a problem?” 
“Not a problem, really, it’s just…” 
“Don’t worry, Julis. They’re surprisingly comfortable,” Claudia said with a light laugh. 
“…You’re too fast to adopt new things.” 
“When in Rome, do as the Romans do, right?” 
Saya began forcefully putting Julis’s arms through the sleeves, giving Julis no choice but to submit. 
“I suppose it is warm…,” Julis had to admit. “I don’t think it suits me very well, though.” 
“On that point, I think we’re both jealous of just how good it looks on you, Saya.” Claudia smiled. 
“Heh-heh.” Saya grinned, puffing out her chest as she lay down on the floor. “Of course. I’m always winning the prizes for best dressed and best dressed at a kotatsu.” 
“I don’t really get what you’re saying, but I suppose it does suit you…” 
Saya, her padded kimono jacket, and the kotatsu—they were perfectly balanced, like the Holy Trinity. 
“Well then, why don’t you tell us what was so important that you had to call us both out now of all times?” 
After all, Saya had summoned not only her, but Claudia as well. 
Sure, Saya was probably lonely since her roommate had gone home for the holidays, but from the look of things, this went beyond just that. 
“Like I said, I’m sulking.” 
“I know that! But why? I don’t have a lot of free time, so if that’s all it is, I’ve got other things to do!” Julis said with a heavy sigh, about to step away from the kotatsu, when Saya stopped her. 
“Did you know that Ayato and Kirin went home?” 
“What are you going on about? Of course I know—” 
“And that Kirin went back to Ayato’s house?” 
“Wh-what?!” At this, Julis’s whole body froze in place. 
“And that she stayed the night there?” 
“What?!” 
Even from her position on the floor, Julis could hear Saya’s teeth grinding in frustration. 
“And that the next day, they both went to Kirin’s house? And stayed the night there, too? They just sent me their excuses.” 
“—!” A sound that couldn’t really be described as speech emerged painfully from Julis’s throat. 
She could feel the energy pour straight out of her body. 
“I was shocked, too, when I heard,” Claudia said with a bitter smile, her cheek pressing against the wooden tabletop of the kotatsu. “I had no idea that Kirin could be so daring… I wonder what’s happened? First Sylvia, now this…” Her voice trailed off before she could finish. 
“Wait, what did Sigrdrífa do?” Julis demanded. 
“Unforgivable,” Saya murmured. 
“And here I was thinking we’d thrown ourselves into another heated battle…” Claudia’s voice, for once, seemed to be laying bare her true feelings—turbid melancholy. 
“What? I never…!” Julis, unable to stop herself from showing her anger, pulled herself further into the kotatsu. 
She understood now—painfully—why exactly Saya wanted to sulk, but all that did was upset her further. 
“Ugh, stop, Julis. If you crawl in too far—” 
“You’re lacking in refinement, Julis. The kotatsu is all about compromising with your neighbors.” 
“How can you say that when you keep pushing against my feet?!” 
“Oh dear, this is most improper.” 
“You too, Claudia! You’re hogging all that space for yourself!” 
“Oh? You’re as shrewd as ever, I see.” 
“Well now? What do we have here?” 
“Ugh, Saya! Don’t lift your feet like that! You’re making it hotter!” 
“Heh-heh-heh, this is just a technique to raise the temperature. Know ye the power of the best dressed at a kotatsu… Argh, too hot!” 
“Two can play at this game!” 
“Claudia, why you?!” 
The three of them wrestled between the covers and the top of the kotatsu, until finally, with no clear champion having emerged, they each found themselves dozing off into a peaceful sleep. 
 
“Phew…” 
Only when he sat down on the balcony outside his guestroom—a cup of tea, which Kirin had brewed, in his hands—was Ayato able to feel at ease. 
“Thank you, Ayato,” Kirin, sitting down beside him, said with a relieved smile. “I’m sorry my great-aunt put you through all that.” 
“No, it was good experience. I should be thanking you.” 
“Thank you for saying that…” 
It may have been mid winter, but the sun had come out and the wind had died down, so it was unseasonably warm—or rather, perhaps it was more that their bodies, still hot from the ferocity of their duel, couldn’t yet feel the cold. 
“Still… I couldn’t beat you.” 
“Ah… The same goes for me too, though.” 
In the end, they had decided to call it a tie—although technically, it was Yoshino who had made the decision so that neither of them would have to admit defeat to the other. It was a face-saving measure for both the Toudou style and the Amagiri Shinmei style, but there was no denying that it had come at just the right time. Any longer, and Ayato didn’t quite know what would have happened. 
“No, it wouldn’t have gone on so long if you had the Ser Veresta. You would have ended it right away.” 
“That’s—,” Ayato began, but he fell silent at the sight of Kirin’s forced smile. 
The way he saw it, it was precisely because he wasn’t wielding the over sized Orga Lux that he had been able to respond to his opponent’s incredible speed the way he had. 
True, he could have tried to reshape the Ser Veresta to a more optimal form, but that still probably wouldn’t have been enough. Even having regained his natural strength, he still wasn’t particularly skilled at delicately manipulating his prana—and that had nothing to do with the seal Haruka had placed over him. 
Now that the Gryps was over, according to Odhroerir’s unofficial rankings, he was third in all of Asterisk behind Orphelia and Sylvia. Of course, that assessment was based on his performances wielding the Ser Veresta, so there was no denying that, in his current state, his actual potential had slipped somewhat. 
“Heh-heh… You really are strong, Ayato,” Kirin said, a touch of bitterness in her voice. “I guess it can’t be helped this time, so I guess you don’t need to answer right away… But I’ll win next time, for sure.” 
“Kirin…” 
He was glad to know how she felt toward him, but to be perfectly honest, he didn’t have time right now to give her the attention that she deserved. Not until he had sorted out everything regarding Haruka, at least. 
Of course, he also knew that he was, in a way, taking advantage of her feelings. 
The same went for Saya’s, too. He couldn’t keep dragging it all out like this. 
Which meant— 
“I suppose, seeing as it was a draw, you do have the right to demand at least something from me.” 
“Huh?” Kirin squeaked, her face turning stiff. 
She pulled her legs up from the balcony, before moving to kneel formally across from him. 
“K-Kirin?” 
“Ayato. I think you should face your father properly and tell him how you really feel.” 
At this, he found his body trembling ever so slightly. “That’s… I mean, I’m already…” 
“Then you need to try harder,” Kirin bit back. Her hands, resting upon her knees, tightened visibly as she took in a deep breath and looked straight at him. “If I could do it, so can you!” 
“—!” 
The truth of that statement hit him right in the chest. 
It was the kind of sincere honesty that he should have expected from her. 
That was no doubt why he was able to answer as readily as he did: “…You’re right. Okay, I will… You sounded a little like my sister just now, you know?” 
“R-really? Sorry, I didn’t mean to…,” Kirin answered respectfully, waving her hands in embarrassment. 
Both of them had returned to their usual selves. 
“No, there’s nothing to apologize for. I guess I can’t keep patting you on the head, though, like an elder brother…” 
“Huh?!” Kirin blurted out, averting her gaze. “Th-that’s… D-don’t change…” Her face had turned red all the way to her ears. 
“Ha-ha, I’m just kidding,” Ayato said with a warm chuckle as he moved to place his hand on her hair—before stopping so suddenly that not even he knew exactly why. 
He had been able to do it so easily up until now, but this time, he hesitated. 
“Huh? Ayato?” 
He could feel his heart racing as Kirin tilted her head to glance up at him. “Ah, I…” But even so, he steadied his resolve as he began to slowly pat her on the head—more awkwardly than he remembered it ever having felt before. 
Kirin, too, must have realized that as she stared up toward him, her lips curling in a warm grin. “Ayato… Are you blushing?” 
 
Ayato decided to head home again the next day. 
Kirin, it seemed, wanted to stay at her own place for a while longer, but when he left, he heard her calling out after him: “You can do it!” That was enough to give him the strength that he needed. 
“…I’m back.” 
Since he had called in advance, Masatsugu was waiting for him in the living room. 
“…” 

As Ayato stepped inside, his father merely glanced toward him, as silent as ever. 
But that was fine. He hadn’t come back to engage in idle chat. 
Kirin had told him to face his father properly and tell him how he really felt. Of course, there was little chance that would turn into a lively conversation, nor was that his intention. 
For Ayato, the best way he could think to approach it was to simply say what he needed to say, and hear what he needed to hear. 
“I’ve decided, Dad—about what to do to help Haruka. I’ve thought it over.” 
“…I see…” 
“I’m not asking you to change my mind. I just wanted to hear what you thought was best… Your real thoughts about it all.” Ayato spoke softly, slowly, trying to keep his emotions from gushing up. 
“…” His father, however, remained silent, arms folded. 
Ayato, on the other hand, had decided to wait him out. He would be as patient as he needed to be. 
At long last, his father spoke up: “…I suppose I don’t deserve to be called a father. I don’t have the slightest clue what I’m supposed to do, for you or Haruka.” Masatsugu’s tone of voice was as muted as Ayato’s had been. 
That wasn’t the kind of answer Ayato had been hoping for, but he kept staring at his father, not once averting his gaze. 
They remained that way for a long time, silent, until finally, dusk began to creep into the room. 
All of a sudden, Masatsugu let out a deep sigh of resignation. “If I could, if it were up to me—there’s nothing I’d like more than to hold Haruka in my arms again.” 
At this, Ayato’s eyes snapped wide open. 
His father’s expression remained stern, but a crack in his voice finally gave shape to his inner turmoil and the truth that lay behind his words. 
“…I see. Thank you,” Ayato replied quietly as he stood up. 
This was enough. For now, at least. 
The atmosphere of the room, always so oppressive, felt somehow lighter. 
He felt as if he had managed to pull open a window that had remained lodged shut for many years, finally allowing a breath of fresh air to blow inside. 
“I’ll bring her home with me next time.” 
“…I see.” 
That was the full extent of what passed between them before Ayato departed once more. 
As he made his way to the bus stop along the twilight country road, he took his mobile from his pocket and summoned his desired contact. 
Now that he thought about it, this was no doubt why she had called him the other day. 
It was exactly as she had said. 
No, as she had foretold: 
“Remember this, Ayato Amagiri. You will ask me for my help, sooner or later. I’m sure of it.” 
She had been right. There was no denying it. The prophecy was about to be fulfilled. 
Just not, however, as she was expecting. 
“Kee-hee-hee-hee! I’ve been waiting to hear from you, Ayato Amagiri.” Hilda Jane Rowlands, alias Magnum Opus, appeared in the air-window in front of him. “Seeing as you’re calling me this time, I take it you’ve decided?” 
“…Yes. I want you to wake my sister.” 
A look of delight spread across Hilda’s face as she flashed her sharp, devil-like teeth in a smirk. “Wonderful…! A wise choice, Ayato Amagiri! So that means that you’ve accepted my conditions?” 
“Yes.” 
And by doing so, he was practically setting this savage beast loose on the world once more. 
The responsibility for unleashing that creature rested with him. He was prepared to accept that. 
But first— 
“I also have some conditions.” 
“Oh?” Hilda paused, the whites of her upturned eyes peering down at him from behind her glasses. “And what would they be?” 
First, he had to be sure that he could at least hold this creature back. 
Ayato gave her a sharp look through the air-window as he carefully, cautiously, enumerated his requirements. 
 
“Kee-hee-hee-hee! Things are going to get a lot busier around here!” Hilda laughed delightedly to herself once the air-window snapped shut. 
Ayato Amagiri had finally made the decision. Freedom would be hers once more—soon, she would once again be able to devote her every waking hour to her research and experiments. She glanced around at her laboratory deep inside Allekant Académie’s research facility. Though now barren and empty, it too would soon finally be restored. 
True, it all came with some rather meddlesome strings attached, but they were nothing she couldn’t work around. 
First, she would have to assemble her team and calibrate the mana accelerator. 
As she was planning her next moves, however— 
“You look like you’re enjoying yourself, Hilda Jane Rowlands,” came a cold voice, stripped of all emotion, calling out from behind her. 
She turned around, her gaze falling on an unfamiliar woman standing in the corner of the room. “…And you are?” 
It should have been impossible for anyone other than her to enter the lab. The vast majority of Tenorio’s members wouldn’t even bother trying, as Hilda could be guaranteed to deny them entry. 
The woman wasn’t wearing a uniform, nor did she have a school crest, so she probably wasn’t a student. 
Only when Hilda noticed that she was wearing a strange, mechanical necklace did she realize whom she was speaking to. 
“Ah, I see, I see. So you’re using a new body now… Varda, wasn’t it?” 
“Indeed, I am Varda. Varda-Vaos.” 
“Yes, yes. We met at that meeting, didn’t we, the one with the funny name? Oh, I was so young and naive back then!” 
At that time, she had still been a student at Allekant’s middle school. 
Even then, she had been in command of several research teams, and she had been considered a prodigy in meteoric engineering capable of standing alongside Ernesta Kühne. 
“Well then, what business did you have with me? I’m afraid things have just gotten remarkably busy here, so I don’t have time to stop and chat…” 
“I’m interested in you. On a personal level.” 
“Oh? An Orga Lux like yourself, interested in a human like me? And here I was thinking you had already enlisted Ernesta Kühne?” 
Hilda had known for a while now that Ernesta had established some kind of relationship with the Golden Bough Alliance. 
That was no doubt the reason behind her frequent trips off campus. 
“This has nothing to do with their plan. They might be making progress, but Madiath’s way of doing things is too abstract, too lacking in rationality.” 
“Well, I suppose that’s only natural.” 
Madiath Mesa was that kind of man. 
“And Ernesta Kühne will always take the side of humans. Unlike you or me.” 
“That does sound like her.” 
Ernesta Kühne was that kind of woman. 
“In other words… To put this in human terms, I’m still attached to Ecknardt’s old plan.” 
Finally, Hilda’s surprise and curiosity were piqued. 
The Varda she had known had been more mechanical, less tainted by human emotion. 
“But with Ecknardt gone, isn’t that now untenable?” 
Hilda had once lent her assistance to the Golden Bough Alliance. It had only been a short-term arrangement, brought to an end through a failure to reach consensus with her colleagues, but even so, intrigued by their current plans, she had continued to monitor them from a distance. 
Which was how she knew that, at the present moment, they seemed to have reached an impasse. 
“Our goal is similar to what you seek to accomplish. That being the case…” 
“Unfortunately, I have no intention of cooperating with you ever again so long as you keep that underhanded fox around.” 
That should have gone without saying. Hilda still resented him for snatching away Orphelia. 
“And what about our policy of mutual noninterference?” 
“…Don’t you want to know about Orphelia Landlufen?” Varda asked, abruptly changing the subject. 
Hilda, however, often did that too, and so she thought little of it. 
“There are several reasons why you haven’t been able to replicate it.” 
“Oh?” 
The conversation was finally getting interesting. 
“The first is that you’re dealing with a prime field. Orphelia Landlufen is a particularly rare, unique specimen.” 
“Yes, I’ve come to realize that, too—that she only turned out so well because of her latent potential. But I don’t need to reproduce the results at quite that level. It would be enough simply to confirm my theory.” 
And yet, she hadn’t been able to do even that much. In all her life, that had been her greatest humiliation and defeat. 
Varda merely gave her a slight nod. “Exactly. Your theory is not incorrect.” 
“Then why?” 
Varda pulled something out of her pocket, casting it toward her. 
“Is this…manadite?” 
It looked to be of high purity, but apart from that, there was nothing remarkable about it. It was the kind of specimen one could find in just about any research institute. 
“The second reason why you haven’t been able to replicate your experiment with Orphelia is this—the purity of your tools.” 
“My tools…?” 
“That is a piece of a class-one grade Vertice Meteorite, freshly cut. You have no way of measuring it, but now that it has come into contact with the outside environment, it will have started to decay.” 
“Decay… I see. An intriguing hypothesis.” 
At the very least, none of the prevailing theories thus far in the field of meteoric engineering had posited such a process. 
“What specifically is decaying? Artificial manadite might not be particularly long-lasting, but the purity of natural manadite doesn’t change over time…” 
“Not purity. Memory.” 
“…Come again?” 
Hilda herself was often wont to jump between topics, but this Orga Lux looked to be even more erratic. 
“Memory, you said?” 
“Of the other world.” 
“—!” At that moment, Hilda’s eyes lit up. “I see! Yes, that’s it! Yes! Kee-hee-hee-hee!” 
“It will hold its form so long as it remains deep inside a dense meteorite, but once removed, the deterioration is swift. Those of extremely high purity, such as myself, are a rare exception.” 
“This is invaluable information, I must say.” Even Hilda was possessed by a sense of duty and obligation—or so she liked to think. 
She had her own distinctive way of showing that, however. 
In any event, having been given inspiration that could lead to a significant breakthrough, she wouldn’t be able to sleep easy unless she gave Varda something in return. 
“I understand. If there’s anything I can do for you, let me know. If it has to do with this matter of yours, I’ll be pleased to help.” 
“That will do,” Varda responded, before melting away into the shadows. 
Of course, she hadn’t disappeared exactly—rather, she had no doubt interfered with Hilda’s sense of recognition. Varda herself might prove to be a specimen of great interest to her research, but now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that. 
“Kee-hee-hee-hee! Research beckons! But first things first! Once this little errand is over and done with, then it will be time to focus on matters of import!” 
 



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